Savage (39 page)

They had done this before, reaching across the great divide to exterminate their enemies and take the treasures of a vanquished world.

Using the most powerful of storms as cover, they disguised their initial incursion . . . arriving upon the coveted world unnoticed, using the planet's own indigenous life, turning the seemingly harmless lower life forms into weapons. The lesser the brain function, the easier it was for the invading organism to control and manipulate.

Distracted by the storm, the higher species would be taken unawares, softened for what was to follow.

The information rushing into her brain suddenly began to slow, and Sidney felt the connection between her and the organism brutally severed as the others became aware of her presence within the consciousness of their tool of attack.

They were not happy to sense her there, reaching out to capture her mind, to prevent it from returning to its earthly vessel. Their psychic touch was revolting, like squirming maggots upon the meat of her brain.

They were far stronger than she was, and Sidney felt herself being pulled farther into their realm on the other side of the veil. The others were desperate to have her, the information that the organism had shared through their accidental bond dangerous to their agenda.

Her mind was still trapped within the organism, and the others reached out to take her away, to leave behind an empty husk that could do no further harm to them.

Or to their plans for humanity.

Sidney snapped back to her own mind at the sounds of gunfire.

Her eyes felt as though rocks had been taped across them, but she fought to open them and did not quite understand what she saw.

There were others in the cave with them now, men and woman with guns and . . .

Fire.

The organism tried to take her back.

Sidney felt it at the base of her brain, a revolting, alien touch that wanted nothing more than to see her dead.

She realized that she still tightly clutched the spear imbedded in the organism's body. She took a deep breath and forced herself to pull the weapon from the sucking flesh, breaking the organism's hold upon her.

Standing there on the alien organism, she felt the raw emotion of what she had experienced. The knowledge of what had happened and who—or what—was responsible driving her to the edge of insanity.

The others.

How dare they?
she thought, her hate-filled gaze like laser beams as she stared down upon the still-living abomination.

“How dare you!” she screamed manically, plunging the spear point deeper, and deeper still.

And with each stab, the link between her and the alien organism was reestablished—a bond made and broken again and again as the twin fork tines came down.

And with each stab she felt it dying.

Until she felt nothing and surrendered to the swarming darkness.

Unable to fight anymore.

Sidney dreamed of a sea of red.

Moving through the waters of scarlet at an incredible speed, faster and faster she traveled until she was moving so quickly that she tore through the crimson surroundings of the environment, punching through to the other side.

There was a sound like the blaring of the loudest horn announcing the end of the world.

A sound that told them she had arrived.

Sidney awakened with a start, not really sure who, or where, she was.

“Hey there,” she heard a familiar voice say. “You okay?”

Her immediate thought was
No, no I am not okay
.
Nobody is,
but she managed to hold her tongue as she glanced over to see Doc Martin sitting by her side, gently holding her bandaged hand.

Sidney shot up, ready to leap from the cot where she was lying.

“We have to get out,” she said, eyes darting about the room, searching for any signs of animal or insect life.

“Hey, calm down. It's over,” Doc Martin said, standing up from her seat and gently pushing Sidney back down. “You've got to take it easy. You've been through a lot.”

Sidney looked around, taking in her surroundings. She was in a large tent. There were other cots lined up around her, but they were empty.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Stanley Airfield,” Doc Martin said. “They've set up a temporary camp for the survivors and—”

“Who?” Sidney wanted to know, suddenly remembering the cave and the people with the guns who had come in.

“Some branch of the military, I imagine,” Doc Martin said with a shrug. She fished through the pockets of her blood-covered smock and removed a crumpled pack of cigarettes. “They aren't too keen on talking about it.”

“Snowy,” she said suddenly, struggling to sit up again. “My friends . . . Cody, Rich . . . Isaac . . .”

“They're fine,” Doc Martin said. “Getting checked over in another part of the camp. It's amazing that you all made it through. You're lucky to be alive . . . we all are.”

Sidney remembered the cave and how she didn't really believe that any of them would make it out.

“How did they find us?”

Doc Martin puffed on her cigarette, careful to blow the smoke away from her. “I guess they've been investigating similar events in other areas,” she explained. “Something to do with zeroing in on some weird signal they started to pick up. They tracked it to the caves.”

The image of the pulsating organism filled Sidney's mind, and she remembered how she had been touched by that very signal.

And what it meant.

The front of the tent parted, and a dark-skinned man reading something from a tablet stepped in. There was a woman behind him holding a leash, and at the end of that leash . . .

“Snowy!” Sidney shrieked far louder than she'd intended.

The woman released the leash, letting the dog come to her. Snowy bounded up onto the cot excitedly, licking Sidney's face and head and anything else that she could reach.

“How's my girl?” Sidney asked, going through the motions of checking her over for any signs of injury as she petted her.

“She looks good,” Doc Martin said. “I gave her a once-over when they brought you all into camp.”

Sidney embraced the dog, pulling her into her arms. The dog obliged, falling into her. If Snowy could have somehow become part of her at that moment, they would have merged together in a single organism.

Images of the twisted animals that had inhabited the cave filled her thoughts, and she found herself suddenly very afraid.

“Miss Sidney Moore,” the dark-skinned man then said, looking up from his tablet. “May I call you Sidney?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“I'm Dr. Gregory Sayid, and this is my head of security, Ms. Langridge.”

Langridge smiled at her and Snowy. “Somebody's glad to see you,” she said.

Sidney pulled the dog closer, burying her face in her neck and taking in her comforting smell, even though she seriously could have used a bath.

“I was wondering if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions?” Sayid asked.

Doc Martin suddenly stood up from her chair.

“That's my cue,” she said. “I'll catch you later on.”

“Don't go too far,” Sidney called to her.

Doc Martin turned at the entrance to tent and smiled. “I'll just be a yell away,” she said before going outside.

Dr. Sayid was staring at her, and she realized that he was waiting for her response.

“Sure,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“Excellent.” He looked down at his tablet again, his fingers tapping the screen.

“You and your friends—”

“I'd like to see them,” she interrupted.

“Excuse me?” he asked, looking up.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “You mentioned my friends, and I'd really like to see them.”

He stared at her and then nodded. “Of course,” he said. He turned to Ms. Langridge, who'd been standing by. “Brenda, would you mind?”

She nodded before leaving the tent as well.

“Thank you,” Sidney said.

Sayid nodded and smiled, then went back to the handheld screen.

“Sidney, it's my job to gather information about what happened on Benediction, and I was wondering if you might share any personal observations as to what occurred here during the storm.”

What she'd experienced linked to the organism filled her mind. Where should she begin? There was so much to explain.

She was about to begin when Cody stepped into the tent. Sidney couldn't help herself, and she bounded from the cot to wrap her arms around him.

“It's so good to see you,” she whispered. She was doing everything in her power to hold back the tears.

“What about me?” She heard Rich's voice and released her ex-boyfriend to throw herself into the arms of one of her closest friends.

“It's good to see you, too,” she said, squeezing him as tight as she could.

She lifted her head to see Ms. Langridge holding open the flap of the tent so that a nervous-looking Isaac could duck his head and enter.

“Isaac,” she said, opening her arms to hug him, but he stepped back, eyeing her cautiously.

“Glad to see you alive and well,” she said to him, feeling slightly embarrassed at her overt emotion.

“Yes, it's good that you're not dead,” Isaac told her.

“I'd say that's very good,” Rich said, looking around to see if everybody agreed.

Sidney was so glad to see them again, alive and, from the looks of it, relatively in one piece. There were plenty of bandages, and even some stitches, but nothing that wouldn't heal over time, she imagined.

“All right then,” Sayid said, interrupting their moment. “I've already interviewed your friends, and now it's your turn, if you'd be so kind.”

Sidney nodded, returning to the cot with Snowy practically glued to her side.

“I'm ready,” she said, sitting down.

Sayid lowered his eyes to the tablet. “When was it that you realized that something was wrong?”

Her thoughts flashed back to the deafening crack of thunder when Cody and Rich were retrieving the sailboat. She knew now, through her connection to the organism, that it wasn't thunder at all, but the arrival of . . .

Sidney was about to answer when she became distracted by a man who'd come into the tent, stopping at the entrance. They all looked in his direction.

“Borrows?” Ms. Langridge asked.

“I need to speak with Dr. Sayid at once,” the young man said, and Sidney picked up the anxiety coming off the man in waves.

Sayid smiled at her as he stood up from his chair, turning his attention toward the man.

“What is it?” he asked.

“A storm,” the man said.

Sayid's posture went rigid.

“Where?”

The man held out his own tablet, running his fingers over the smooth surface to share what information he had. Ms. Langridge drifted over to see as well.

“It's Boston, sir,” the man named Borrows said, barely able to restrain his intensity. “And it bears all the landmarks of the storm that hit Benediction, only . . .”

They all had turned their attention to the young man.

“Only this is much bigger.”

Sidney felt as though she might throw up. “I know what it is,” she then said, her voice causing them all to turn toward her. “It's an invasion.”

Ms. Langridge stepped forward.

“How do you know what—”

“This is just the beginning,” Sidney told them, her words filled with dread and warning. “They come in the storm.”

They come in the storm.

THE END?

As always, copious amounts of love to my wife, LeeAnne, for all that she does, and for putting up with my nonsense. Love and thanks also to Kirby, for inspiring me to write a book with a killer French bulldog as a character.

Special thanks also to Michael Strother for his energy and enthusiasm on this book; to Howard Morhaim for having my back; to Liesa Abrams for just being who she is; and to Dr. Kris Blumenstock for my veterinary stuff. Thanks to Thomas Fitzgerald and Seamus, Dale Queenan and Allie, Barbara Simpson and Mugsy, Larry Johnson and Mel, Nicole Scopa, Frank Cho, Mom Sniegoski, Pam Daley, Dave Kraus (miss you every day), Kathy Kraus, and the swarm of creepy-crawlies down at Cole's Comics in Lynn, Massachusetts.

We're going to need a bigger boat.

ALSO BY

THOMAS E. SNIEGOSKI

The Fallen Series

The Fallen 1: The Fallen and Leviathan

The Fallen 2: Aerie and Reckoning

The Fallen 3: End of Days

The Fallen 4: Forsaken

The Fallen 5: Armageddon