“Are you okay?” Layla said.
“Fine. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“What happened?” Ben said. “Did you get them?”
“Shot them both. The front one had a grenade ready to go.”
Layla squinted. The smoke stung her eyes. She pulled her sweater over her nose and mouth and followed Gregor downstairs.
Near the bottom, she stepped over the twisted figures of two dead croatoans into a room bathed in light. The entrance door had been blown off its hinges, a body lay underneath.
Gregor grasped Layla by the shoulder. “Don’t look to your left. You don’t need to see this.”
She focused outside. Gregor pointed his rifle upwards and dashed out, turning amongst the weeds, looking up through his sights. Ben joined him and searched the sky.
Layla tentatively joined them. There was no sign of the previously circling croatoan. She approached the alien by the overturned bike. Its weapon lay few feet away in the knee length grass.
She picked it up, pointed it toward the forest and pulled the trigger. It easily depressed like she was squeezing a tube of toothpaste. The alien rifle kicked against her chest as a projectile whistled out and thumped against tree.
Gregor ducked. “Be careful with that.”
“I’m not going through another situation unarmed,” Layla said.
He appreciatively grunted and started heading for the forest.
“Where are we going?” Ben said.
“Away from here. Who knows what might turn up next. I’m not waiting to find out,” Gregor said.
“We could take the hover-bikes?” Ben said, gesturing to the three parked by the forest’s edge.
Gregor spun and grabbed Ben by the scruff of his neck. “Do you want to end up like Marek? Do you?”
He pushed Ben away. Ben stumbled after him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I just…”
For the next hour, they picked their way through dense, slimy undergrowth. Gregor probably chose the route to provide cover. Layla breathed hard, swiping away branches and kicking away weeds that knotted around her feet.
They eventually hit a former road. Gregor leaned against a rusting SUV and wiped sweat from his brow. He gazed into the distant sky at the thin outline of the mother ship. This was probably the first time he had to stop and think about Marek. Layla decided to leave him to his own thoughts.
She shuddered at the thought of a new alien hulk in the sky. An instrument of death that would shortly bring about their demise. They had to do something.
Ben stretched out on a rock twenty yards away. Layla went over to him. “Are you okay?”
“A few scratches, nothing major.”
“Do you have any idea where Jackson went? Think. We need to put our differences aside. Fight this thing together.”
He shrugged. “Charlie and Gregor? You’re joking, right?”
“I’m being serious. Unless we come up with something soon, well, you know what’ll happen.” Ben flashed a glance at Gregor, who still stared into the clear blue sky. He sheepishly looked back at Layla. She lowered her voice, “If you know something, now is the time to say.”
“Charlie’s got a plan. I don’t know what exactly, but he’s been working on it for some time. I know where he’ll be,” Ben trailed off.
She resisted the strong urge to punch him in the face. “I swear, if you don’t start talking—”
Ben failed to spot Gregor moving around behind him. He wrapped his arm under Ben’s chin and squeezed tightly.
“I’m giving you a minute before I snap your neck,” Gregor said.
Ben’s face reddened, he gasped. “I’ll tell you. Please. Let go.”
Gregor loosened his grip and grabbed the back of Ben’s hair. Layla leaned toward him. “This is no time for games. Where will he be?”
“Ridgway. The clock tower. Noon tomorrow. I’m supposed to meet him. Give him information about the shuttle runs.”
“Did he say why?” Layla said.
“That’s all I know. I wasn’t going to meet him. I’m with you guys. Honestly.”
Gregor released his hold, and slapped the palm of his hand against the side of Ben’s head. “You treacherous little shit.”
“What are you going to do?” Layla asked Gregor.
He threw Ben to one side. “What do you think I’m going to do? Tomorrow I’ll be in Ridgway, waiting for Jackson to show his face.”
Chapter 30
CHARLIE WIPED the debris from his face. The grenade explosion still made his hearing ring. Using the cloud of smoke and concrete to hide their position, they’d managed to outmaneuver the hunter, using Charlie’s knowledge of the alleys and side streets to get some distance and return to Quaternary HQ
“What about Denver?” Maria asked as they cleared the sheet metal out of the way and headed into the basement.
“He’ll be okay,” Charlie locked the door behind and took a breath. Even though the root kept him fit and strong, his age meant that he still felt the fatigue once the adrenaline and the root’s effect wore off. “Come on, we need to go up a few levels.”
Before they entered the basement area, Charlie stopped at a small room previously used by janitors. Mike had converted it to a gun rack. Charlie took Barrett .50 caliber rifle. If anything would stop that damned croatoan bastard, it’d be that.
Taking the stairs two at a time and wincing with the effort, Charlie led Maria into the third floor where his old office used to be. His, Mike’s and of course Pippa’s. It was like a mausoleum.
Desks and computers were still in the same place since the day he left it. Papers and books littered the floor, disturbed by the vibrations of war. He made to reach up to the bead necklace and remembered he’d given it to Ben.
It didn’t matter. Pippa’s face was still clear in his mind. She smiled at him with that quirky look of hers. He pictured her wafting into the office, dirt smudged on her face as she excitedly talked about their next project or some surprising find.
“Are you okay?” Maria said, touching his arm.
“What? Yes, sorry, I just… it doesn’t matter. Okay, stand back from the window, but from somewhere you can use this to spot for me.” He handed her the monocular sight.
“What is it you want me to do exactly?” Maria asked.
Charlie opened the boarded-up window and balanced the Barrett’s barrel across the sill. He rested the rest of the gun on the edge of a desk that he pulled closer.
“That bastard alien is going to have to approach from that street down there. Everywhere else is too dilapidated. It’ll know we had to come this way too. I want you to be a second of pair of eyes to help me focus on it.”
“Okay,” Maria said, pulling a wheeled office chair closer so that she could rest and still get a good view out of the window.
Charlie got himself comfortable, brought the scope to his eye and checked his distances. All seemed good. He just had to wait. Even if the hunter came at them from the shadows, there was still a ten-foot section of open space it’d have to cross. Hopefully, they’d spot it before it got to that section and gave him time to aim.
They sat in silence for five minutes. Sweat beaded on Charlie’s forehead. He knew Denver would have the part by now and be on his way back. And as though conjuring him with his very mind, Maria excitedly said, “Den’s there, look.”
With an alien weapon in his hands he came out of a side street, looking either side, always on alert. “You keep watching him,” Charlie said, not loving this at all.
His fears were born of good instinct. As Denver stepped further out into the open, forty feet behind him, the shadows shifted and the hunter slid out of his position. The bastard was probably there all the time. Charlie couldn’t quite get a good aim on him. A fallen wall obscured his vision, but he could see the shadows moving now that the noon sun had dipped lower to the west, lengthening the shadows across the sidewalk.