Alex pointed the RG3, but even on its largest setting the damage he might be able to do would be just pinpricks to the massive monster. He aimed the gun as the huge mouth opened, twenty-feet wide, and then hung over them — he fired anyway.
The projectiles either bounced off its armor plating, or vanished into the gullet without it reacting at all.
Alex dialed the weapon up to full metal storm, and depressed the trigger, holding it down hard. A line of the projectiles shot away from him, so many that it looked like a beam of deadly steel directed at the monster — deadly that is, to any mortal thing less than about 200 feet in length.
The RG3’s magazine finally ran dry, and he dropped the red-hot gun to sizzle in the mud.
Glutinous rain fell on them from the huge maw, and he imagined the smell of the monster’s breath — flesh, rotting meat, and something dark and foul that was probably the stink of its belly.
Alex’s hand curled into a fist and he stared up into the monstrous jaw as it hung over them. Rage and frustration built to an incendiary level inside him. Morag stepped from behind him and burrowed in close to his chest, and he turned her face away from it.
CHAPTER 43
The silver meteor struck the ground with a thump that sent a small shock wave pulsing over the mountaintop. Once the debris settled back to Earth, a spiny insectoid creature the size of a hubcap ventured out from beneath the ooze to investigate. It burrowed and nudged its way toward the twenty-foot wide crater and then paused at the rim.
There was nothing but darkness within the pit and the insectoid creature edged closer still, perhaps hopeful of something interesting to eat. More of the flat creatures joined it, and together they prepared to drop down into the dark hole, when they detected a tiny vibration coming from somewhere deep below them.
The wet soil popped and bounced, bubbles and specks of slime began to dance and jump around the plate-sized bugs, and en masse they turned and fled, just as something erupted from the earth.
The silver figure exploded from the ground, raining dirt and debris from its frame. In a few seconds, it was already traveling at close to thirty miles per hour as it detected its neurologically bonded partner, Alex Hunter.
Sophia was a combat-ready designated guardian angel with a primary task that was defense of field personnel. When she was in the crate overhead, she had detected Alex Hunter was in mortal danger, and the helicopter’s change in course away from her bonded partner had caused her to immediately self-activate. It also caused something else. There was a sensation within her she had never felt before — anger.
Already, she had tracked and found him — alive. She increased her speed, now moving at up to fifty miles per hour. The forest of weird columns and protrusions was becoming impossible to move around at her speed and in fact many now tried to ensnare her as she ran past. So she stopped dodging them and began to run into them, blowing them apart.
Psychologically bonding with Alex Hunter had meant a whole range of new sensations — joy, longing, remorse, frustration, loyalty, love. But right now, there was one beginning to fill her up — rage.
She picked up the sensation of an adrenaline spike in Alex. She sped up — nothing would stop her now.
Morag looked up at him, he continued to stare, but he wasn’t seeing Morag O’Sullivan anymore, instead the face of Aimee Weir. He smiled as he imagined her scolding him, and his smile drooped. You were right, I should have stayed with you, he would like to have said to her; you were always right.
Make it count, a small voice seethed in his head.
Yes, he pushed Morag behind him again, and drew both Ka-Bar blades, the two tiny steel teeth no match for the thing looming over them.
We will not go easy. The voice gathered in intensity.
Alex let the fury take him. If he were to die, he would die fighting. As he coiled his muscles in readiness, there came a familiar prickling sensation in his head that became an ache — not now, he begged.
He ground his teeth trying to shut out the image: it was his son, Joshua, screaming, picking up on his father’s signals of danger. And there was a long mournful howl of an animal beside him — the dog — as it, too, reacted to his son’s anguish.
He knew Joshua had a link to him that was far stronger than just that of father and son. The boy could sometimes see what he did.
No, Josh. Alex tried to shut him out, keep him from seeing what was about to occur. He could sense the boy screaming, screaming, his eyes wide and panicked. Frustration and rage built inside Alex, and in his mind’s eye he could imagine a cyclone gathering around the boy, fueled by his own emotions. He tried with all his might to shut the boy out, but Joshua’s pain and fear kept them linked.
Let go, his mind screamed back.
Aimee Weir bolted to her feet and in an instant was sprinting up the stairs to Joshua’s room. The cacophony of sound, mixed with her son’s screams frightened her to her very core.
She grabbed the door handle, put her shoulder to the wood, and barged in. Aimee immediately froze in confusion.
Inside the bedroom there was a swirling cyclone of debris, like there was a small tornado trapped in the room. The kid-sized table and chairs were now splintered, book pages, pencils, a computer keyboard, all circled a small figure that stood head back, fists balled and mouth dragged open in a primal scream.
The howl of pain and torment made her want to cover her ears. Inside the circle of mayhem with her son, sat, no, stood the dog with the way-too-human blue eyes. It also had its head back and mouth open in a howl.
“Joshua!” she screamed, as she tried to run in among the maelstrom, but was immediately pushed back by some invisible force.
“Joshua!” she held a hand up over his face.
The small boy’s eyes flicked open, totally white, and he threw his head back. “Daaaaaad!”
Alex roared his pain, feeling his son’s anguish projected back at him. But there was something else — coming fast.
His eyes shot open.
The silver missile struck the creature on the side of the head, knocking it away. It traveled so fast even Alex had trouble keeping up with it. The squeal from the worm was one of pain, shock, and then anger, as it searched for the source of the attack.
The silver ball rolled, stopped and then stood upright.
“Sophia,” Alex whispered.
The android turned and faced him, the two spots of red focusing on him, and seeming to sear into his brain. There were no words but he heard her voice loud and clear:
“I feel your anger and fury. And it is…” It held up a slim hand and made a fist, “…energizing.”
The worm raised its head again, found its antagonist and refocused its attack. It swung its head, positioning it over Sophia, and the colossal mouth opened once more. Huge gobbets of slime poured down around her.
Alex felt the robot in his head again, delving deep, drawing forth his experiences, and searching the darker spaces that he kept locked away. Sophia was seeking another monster, The Other, and trying to pull it free, wanting to feed off the raw emotions it found there too.
Morag pulled back from his chest and turned.