Nathan Hystad - The Survivors - Books 1-3

“Why have a colony city in the snow?” Slate asked, breaking his contemplative silence.

Magnus shrugged. “Why do people live in northern Canada or Alaska?” He waited for a reply. “No, seriously, if you know, tell me.” He barked a laugh, and when no one else followed suit, he continued. “They have resources up there. A stone much like diamond, that sparkles like a geologist’s dreams and conducts electricity better than anything we’ve ever seen. And it isn’t always snow-covered. Just three-quarters of the year.” This made him laugh again, and I joined in this time, for his sake.

“Of course,” Slate said, his question satisfactorily answered. “Did those colonists lose a bet?”

“You’re a funny guy, Slate. I think I’m going to like hanging out with you. We asked for volunteers, and after all everyone had been through, living in a safe place with everything you could need to survive, we didn’t have to do a lottery. We had all the positions filled in a week. We were as surprised as you are.” Magnus tapped some icons, and the ETA appeared on the viewscreen. Ten minutes to destination.

“Did we get through to Terran Four?” I asked, and Mary sent a message to Dan back at the home base.

“Dan says they left just after us,” Mary answered.

“It’ll be close. Everyone ready? Shoot to kill. I know we’re the aliens here, and believe me, we do have animal rights activists on our asses here too, but lives are at stake. Stick together, and hopefully, we can extract the group before too much damage is done.” Magnus lowered us below the clouds, and instantly, we couldn’t see beyond the viewscreen. Snow enveloped the small vessel, but he had no problem flying it using the computer navigation system.

The plan was to land a hundred yards from the structure in the video, and get between the oncoming creatures and the humans, if we weren’t too late. It took another minute for Magnus to lock in on the coordinates, and when he did, we lowered quickly to the ground, still unable to see much more than blowing white flakes as we bumped the surface softly.

The doors hissed open, hinging toward the sky, and we got out, pulse rifles in hands. My heart pounded and sweat covered my back, a contradiction to the freezing temperatures outside. Why had we come with Magnus? Shouldn’t we have left this type of thing to the trained soldiers? Then it hit me: I was the only non-military among our group of four, and probably still had more experience in the field than half the actual soldiers now filling that role on New Spero. My confidence increased, my steps becoming firmer and my grip a little lighter on the rifle as I followed Magnus toward the barn we could just make out through the snowstorm.

“You two go right,” Magnus called through our earpieces.

Slate and I obeyed, cutting right to flank the people on the other side. Only when we arrived, there were no people standing up.

The familiar hum of a transport vessel came at us from our other side, and soon another ship landed near us, armed men emerging from the doors, much like we had only moments ago.

Magnus shook his head. “Damn it! We’re too late.”

That was when I saw it. The half-eaten horse lay blanketed by a thin layer of snow, a pool of blood staining the white ground. The closer I looked, the more I saw signs of a struggle, footprints from both humans and animals mixing, but quickly being covered by the ever-falling snow.

“They might still be alive,” one of the newcomers said to us. “These things will feed” – he pointed at the horse – “and drag anything else back to their nests. We have some at Four, but they’re smaller and fewer. Seen it a few times.”

“Let’s go after them,” Magnus said matter-of-factly.

“In this storm, we’ll be lucky to make it a mile without giving up,” the new guy said, the three other soldiers with him keeping quiet.

“Look…” Magnus started to argue, but we all stopped short as we heard a small voice.

“Help! Daddy!” it called from the barn.

I ran toward the sound, gun raised just in case. “Where are you?” I asked, voice rising above the wind.

A small figure emerged into the doorway, wearing a snow suit and a pink hat. It was a little girl, no more than seven years old.

“I’m Dean. What’s your name?” I asked, knowing she would be terrified.

“Monica. They took my daddy,” she said, fat tears arriving at the corners of her eyes.

“Who did? The animals?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Which way did they take them?”

She pointed to the west. “He told me to hide in here, under the hay pile. I miss him. We were out for a horse ride, and Queenie hurt her leg. The horse doctor lady came with some help. Then they came.”

I didn’t have to ask who they were.

“I like her.” The tears were starting to fall. “Isabelle, the horse doctor. She makes me laugh. Can you find my daddy?”

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Isabelle. My sister was a veterinarian, and Magnus had told me she lived in Terran Five. It had to be her.

“Guys, we’re going after them.” One of the men from Terran Four came over and gave Monica a heated blanket, ushering her toward their transport vessel. My friends nodded grimly. “I think my sister was among the ones attacked.”

Mary’s eyes widened. “How’s that possible?”

“I don’t know. The girl said her horse got hurt, and they were stuck out here from the storm, and a horse doctor named Isabelle came to help. That has to be her.” I was shaking with adrenaline and the need to stop talking and go rescue them.

“Let’s go. These little bastards are cave dwellers, so we either attempt to follow the tracks being covered by more snow every minute, or we assume they’re going to the mountain three miles west of here and fly there,” Magnus said.

“I’ll follow the tracks and meet you there.” Slate took off on foot. His pace was fast and efficient.

“You heard the man, let’s get on the ship or he might beat us there,” Mary said, moving for it already.

“You guys will never find them, and if you do, how do you know they aren’t already dead?” one of the guys from Terran Four asked.

“We don’t know, and that’s why we’re going. Get that girl back inside the gates, and tell them what’s happening right under their noses,” I said before rushing toward the transport.

Moments later, we were taking off, and if possible, it seemed the snow was falling even more heavily. As we neared the mountain, I felt a tugging I couldn’t explain. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I sat in the back of the transport, my blood starting to burn. I wanted to cry out, but I couldn’t.

“Ma…ry,” I squeaked out through the pain. Her face turning to me was the last thing I saw before all went black.

W hen my eyes came open, I was alone in the small ship. My body still ached, but the searing pain was gone.

I felt for injuries and scanned myself for blood, but everything seemed normal, except for a throbbing headache. I moved to the medi-kit and shot myself with a small dose of painkiller, instantly feeling the thumping subside.

“Mary, Magnus, come in,” I said into my comm, but no reply came. They must have known I was breathing, and had gone for the people first, hoping whatever happened to me wasn’t fatal. Seeing me passed out, but having to leave my side, must have been difficult on Mary.

I threw on an insulated cap and grabbed any weapons I could fit on myself, along with a few rations of food and an emergency kit. One thing I remembered from those outdoor TV shows was you never went into a situation without being prepared. Especially heading into a mountain full of alien monsters, on a planet you’d just set foot on the day before.