Chapter 23
Ladies and gentlemen,” said the public address announcer, “please welcome Mother Russia’s very own Crimson Bear!”
The crowd cheered as Pierce flew into the stadium and shot toward Colt, who barely managed to get out of the way.
“What are you doing?” Colt asked.
“What does it look like I’m doing, genius?” Pierce pulled in front of the grandstand and bowed in midair. He basked in the applause before turning back around and rumbling toward Colt, amber eyes blazing as the exhaust burst from the bottom of his boots.
Colt opened the throttle, and Pierce gave chase as the crowd cheered them on. Everything was a blur, but as Colt darted around the aerial field he thought he saw Robert Downey Jr. sitting next to Scarlett Johansson in the loge section, along with George Lucas, Harrison Ford, and all four judges from The Voice. “Wait, is that—”
“Yeah, it’s Charlize Theron,” Oz said, cutting him off. “But you might want to focus on Bowen.”
Colt turned his head in time to see that he was about to fly into the press box where VIPs like Senator Bowen and the president of the United States were supposed to be watching them. He released the throttle and arched his head back, changing his trajectory so that he shot straight up, and that’s when he saw the sky open up.
The Hydra looked like a flying aircraft carrier as it emerged from the portal, light dancing across the surface. It had a hangar, eight rotors that kept it aloft, and two long flight decks filled with dozens of Taipan fighters.
“What is that thing?” Pierce asked as he pulled up beside Colt, who was hovering near a green flag decorated with the familiar symbol of the Department of Alien Affairs: a white hand with three long fingers.
“A Delta Class Hydra, which means there could be a thousand Thule on board, not to mention twenty Taipan.”
“What about those?”
Colt looked up to see three massive figures drop from the sky. They were little more than specks at first, but as they neared the ground, he could see that each one was at least thirty feet tall and wrapped in a thick iron hide.
“Trackers!” Oz shouted as the first landed, sending a tremor across the entire campus.
People rushed out of the stadium in a blind panic as the second Tracker landed near the first. The third Tracker landed outside the stadium, amber eyes glowing like spotlights as its head swiveled as though it was searching the campus grounds.
Colt hovered, watching the events unfold like a spectator in someone else’s nightmare. A Thule transport landed nearby; the hatch opened, and at least twenty-six armed aliens poured out.
The crowd was screaming. Colt prayed that Grandpa McAlister had gotten Lily to safety as DAA agents opened fire on the Thule, who attacked in kind. One of the agents flew in on a jet pack and shot a rocket launcher that hit the Tracker in its knee, but it only left a burn mark.
Colt looked up again and saw three Apache helicopters release Hellfire missiles that pounded the Tracker. It staggered but somehow kept its feet and answered the attack with a hail of missiles that erupted from the launcher on its shoulder.
One hit an Apache, piercing the hull. Fire and smoke billowed as the helicopter fell, spinning slowly until it hit the ground.
“I saw Lily,” Oz said. “She followed a bunch of people into the admin building.”
“On it,” Colt said as he flew over the top of the stadium and out toward the campus grounds. Thanks to the jet pack, it didn’t take long to reach the front steps of the administration building. He looked around for anything he could use as a weapon and saw a DAA agent facedown, his hand still wrapped around the barrel of an assault rifle.
Colt approached cautiously, knowing it could be a trap. He tapped the agent with the tip of his boot; the man didn’t budge, so he tried again. Nothing. Heart pounding, he picked up the assault rifle, but the magazine was empty.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he listened to the faint echoes of someone screaming. He tossed the assault rifle on the steps, knelt beside the fallen agent, and unlatched the holster that held the man’s handgun. Colt half expected him to stand up, or at least to reach out and grab his wrist, but he didn’t budge.
“Thank you.” Colt wanted to say more, to thank him for sacrificing his life. He wondered if the man had children, and how they would react once they learned that their father was dead.
Another scream. The sound of something heavy crashing against the floor. Colt felt the weight of the gun in his hand and remembered what Grandpa had said, that there was no glory in killing. Did that go for the Thule as well? Did they have hopes and dreams, or were they soulless killing machines?
He slipped inside the building, the gun held to his chest as his eyes searched the reception area. There were splatters of green liquid on the ground, which he assumed was blood from the Thule. A trail of drops led toward Director Thorne’s office. Colt removed the magazine from the handgun to make sure it was full; then he checked the chamber and found an extra round, which meant that he had thirteen shots. It wasn’t enough to take down one of the Thule unless he got lucky and hit it in the eye, but it was better than nothing.
Two more DAA agents were lying on the floor in the hallway. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble,” Colt whispered, reciting the verse from Grandpa’s medallion as he hurried past an empty office.
“McAlister!”
Colt spun, his heart pounding in his chest. He found Pierce crouched beneath two bookshelves that had fallen at odd angles. “What are you doing?” Colt asked.
“Looking for my dad, so shut up and get in here before one of those things hears you.”
There was a sound like shuffling feet, and Colt turned to see something heavy moving slowly toward them from the other end of the hallway. He could only make out its silhouette, but it was well over seven feet tall with six muscular arms and a long tail that swished back and forth. It stopped to sniff the air.
“You see one, don’t you?” Pierce said.
Colt nodded.
“Anybody else with you?”
“It’s just me,” Colt said.
“We need to go find backup.”
“Not without Lily.”
“The girl you were flirting with back at the stadium? She was hot.”
Colt fought the urge to break Pierce’s jaw.
“Relax,” Pierce said. “I’m not going to hit on her or anything.”
“Lucky me.”
A Thule bellowed, and the hideous sound reverberated through the hallway.
“We can’t stay here,” Colt said.
“I can’t just let them take my dad.”
“Then let’s go find him.”
Pierce narrowed his eyes. “Seriously? You’d help me?”
“We can help each other. Let’s go.”
Colt and Pierce followed the trail of blood to Director Thorne’s office, where a fake bookshelf had been ripped away from the wall, revealing what looked like elevator doors.
“I don’t get it,” Pierce said. “This is a one-story building.” Colt had a terrible thought. “Koenig.”
Pierce had a hard time believing that the United States government was housing the leader of the Thule under the academy grounds, but he followed Colt into the elevator and down to the same floor where Grandpa had taken Colt.
“Hold on.” Colt heard a faint whisper.
Closer, closer, the voice said. Show no mercy. Kill them. Free me.
“What’s wrong?” Pierce asked.
“We’re getting close,” Colt said.
“What, you have some kind of super-powered hearing now?”
“Something like that.” He wasn’t about to tell Pierce that he could hear Koenig speaking in his head.
When the elevator stopped and the door opened, they found a man in a dark suit lying on the ground moaning, a ring of blood staining the tile around his head. “Who . . . who’s there?” he asked, his voice faint as he struggled to lift his head.
“Captain Starling?” Colt ran toward the instructor.
Starling looked up at him, eyes filled with terror even as he forced a smile. His skin was pale, his hair wild, and his right arm had been severed at the elbow. “Trust me, it hurts worse than it looks,” he said through a coughing fit.
“It’s not that bad,” Colt said.
Starling looked down at the bloody stump, and for a moment it looked like he was going to cry. “I tried to stop them,” he said, closing his eyes. “But they were . . .” His voice broke off into sobs.
“It’s okay,” Colt said, kneeling beside him.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Pierce said.
“I know.” He looked around, trying to find something that he could use as a tourniquet, but there weren’t many options. “We’re going to get you out of here, but first we need to stop the bleeding. Okay?”
Starling nodded.
“This might hurt.” Colt reached up and ripped the sleeve from Starling’s flight suit, trying not to gag as the stench of blood filled his nostrils. Starling groaned as Colt cinched the sleeve around the injured arm.
“Thank you,” he said, and then his body went limp.
Colt pressed his fingers just below Starling’s jaw, but he couldn’t feel a pulse.
“Is he dead?” Pierce asked.
“Yeah,” Colt said, reaching to close Starling’s eyelids. He shook his head, wondering if any of this was real. Starling was an annoying blowhard who drove everyone crazy, but Colt wouldn’t have wished this in a million years.
“Now what?” Pierce said.
Colt stood up and wiped his hands on his armor, leaving streaks of blood that matched the streaks on the biometric scanner. He led Pierce to Koenig’s detention cell and stopped short. The cell was open, and two DAA agents were lying still on the ground.
“Looks like they already—”
Before Colt could finish his sentence, a massive Thule rushed out of the room and grabbed him by the throat. It hefted him off the ground.
I like to watch the life pour out of the eyes when people die, don’t you?
A cold hand caressed Colt’s mind. Koenig.
“Let him go!” Pierce raised his M14, but Koenig only laughed.
Or what?
A feral sound escaped from between Colt’s lips as he lashed out, catching the Thule in the throat. It bellowed, releasing him as Pierce opened fire. Bullets sprayed, covering Koenig. He stepped back and Colt lunged, trying to take its legs out.
Ah, sweet rage. Do you not see how it empowers us? It makes us stronger, so nothing can stand against us!
“I’m nothing like you!” Colt screamed as he pounded Koenig’s jaw with his fists.
That’s it. Let it flow. Embrace what you’ve become.
As the beast within threatened to take over, Colt fought to hold on to his humanity. My name is Colt McAlister. My parents were Mary and Roger McAlister. My grandpa’s name is Murdoch McAlister, and my best friends are Oz Romero and Danielle Salazar.
Surrender and live.
“Never.”
Then behold your destiny.
Before Koenig could move, Colt grabbed his jaw. Koenig shook his head and flung Colt against the wall. Pain shot down Colt’s spine as Koenig sprang and, in one quick motion, ripped Colt’s helmet from his head.
Look for the soft spot, Colt thought.
Koenig bit down on Colt’s shoulder, and his teeth cut through the skin of Colt’s neck. Searing pain was followed by nausea, and for a moment Colt thought he was going to pass out.
Gunfire. A flash of light, and the Thule cried out. He burst past them and ran down the hall toward the elevator.