He lifted the rifle and squeezed the trigger, keeping it held down while bullets spat out of the weapon, chopping through the creatures. He released the trigger, jumping over their bodies and racing along the crossing. The hum of the ship was gaining in pitch, enough that the entire cavern felt like it was beginning to shake.

  The platform hadn’t looked that long from the side, but it felt to David like it took forever to cross. He was close to the end when a trife jumped down at him from above, and he barely got the rifle over his head in time to stop its claws from raking his scalp. The demon fell on him, and he rolled and pushed, throwing the creature over the side, plummeting to its death. He rolled over again and stood, getting to the airlock door. He stared at it for a moment and then started pounding the butt of the rifle against it.

  “Help!” he shouted. “Help me!”

  He had no idea if anyone was on the other side or if they could hear him or not. He continued to pound, the noise in the cavern increasing, the light increasing. He felt waves of heat rising from the ground, and when he looked back over the edge he could see the Marines were doing their best to retreat, the mass of trife in pursuit.

  He continued pounding on the door. Was anyone there? He was too close not to make it. Come on!

  The hatch hissed and slid aside. A pair of Marines with rifles pointed at him were standing in the doorway. One of them reached out and grabbed him, yanking him inside. The other reached for the panel to reseal the hatch.

  A trife dropped in from above, claws slicing down and into the man’s wrist, nearly severing his hand. The Marine screamed and fell back, the second Marine turning to shoot.

  Four more trife came down from the side of the ship, taking them all by surprise. They must have been hiding close by, hoping the hatch would open again.

  David aimed his rifle and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. The demon jumped at one of the Marines, its head darting in and biting between the helmet and the body armor. The Marine screamed, grabbing a knife from his hip and sinking it into the trife.

  David didn’t see what happened next. His gun was out of ammo, and he wasn’t about to hang around to die. He dropped the weapon and ran, through the corridors and deeper into the ship, getting as far away from the trife as he could, as fast as he could.

  He wasn’t sure how far he went, but he paused at a hatch on the left side of the corridor, hitting the controls to open it. The door slid aside, revealing a storage room stocked with what appeared to be boxes of rations. Good enough. He threw himself inside, closing the door behind him. Then he fell to the ground, leaning back against the boxes.

  He couldn’t believe he had made it.

  He couldn’t believe he was about to go into space.

  Chapter 21

  “Pre-burn is go, General,” said one of the privates manning the many control stations on the bridge of the Deliverance.

  General Watkins smiled. “Here we go.” He turned to the officers still present on the bridge, including Adam. “Major Jackson, sitrep.”

  “Sir,” Major Jackson said, taking in the three-dimensional tactical map that had replaced Proxima B on the holotable. “All units are on the retreat, moving toward the lifts from the sled up into the ship. They’re still taking heavy casualties, and it’s only getting worse.”

  “I’ve lost ninety percent of my company, sir,” Adam said, trying to hold back his emotion. So many Marines had come so close to escaping the hell that Earth had become. So damn close. “Everyone else was passed to Major Lyle for ship defense.”

  “I’m down ninety-five percent,” Lieutenant Beak said. “What was left of my detail is with Major Lyle too.”

  “What about the hangar?” General Watkins asked.

  “Techs are still working on it, sir,” Major Jackson said. “We’re lucky our people have managed to keep the trife off them so they can do their job, but even for the ones who are still fighting, their ordnance load-outs are getting low.”

  Watkins’ jaw flexed in frustration. “Have the bastards gotten into the ship?”

  “We have a few rogues in the corridors. Once we clear the cavern, we can send units to track them down.”

  “Don’t linger too long on that. We can’t afford to have them starting a nest on the ship. We might never get them back out.”

  “Yes, sir. We’ll be able to redirect our resources as soon as the Deliverance is clear of the hangar.”

  “What resources?” Doctor Valentine said. “How many Marines do you have left out there?”

  Adam swallowed hard. He knew the current answer to the question. He didn’t want to think about it.

  “We’ve still got units making their way to the lifts,” Major Jackson replied.

  “How many units?” Valentine asked. Jackson didn’t answer. She made a face. “General, are you sure you have enough Marines left to hunt down the trife?”

  Watkins glared at her a moment. “We’ll have enough people left.”

  Valentine didn’t look convinced. “How the hell does this happen?” she hissed. “We’re this close to getting out of here, and the trife just suddenly appear? Or some asshole group of scavengers figures out we’re down here and leads the things right to us? For hell’s sake!”

  “We’re all in this together, Doctor,” Adam said, barely able to contain himself after her outburst. “And maybe I should remind you that we could have left yesterday if you weren’t so damn insistent on packing up whatever it was you risked my Vultures’ lives to deliver.”

  Valentine opened her mouth to speak.

  “Enough!” Watkins snapped. “Lieutenant Jones, this isn’t the time or place. “Doctor Valentine, you’re welcome to go to your module whenever it suits you. Now might be a good time.”

  Valentine glared at the general for a moment, and then turned and stormed from the bridge, her assistant trailing behind her.

  “Don’t let the trife get you on the way down,” Major Jackson called out after her.

  “Major,” Watkins said.

  “That woman is like a tattoo.”

  “Tattoo?”

  “She really gets under your skin.”

  “Agreed, Major. Let’s focus on getting our people on board and getting the hell out of here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Module, sir?” Adam asked. “Doc Valentine isn’t staying in Metro?”

  “No. Don’t ask me how, but she has full operational authority over the USSF science teams, coming directly from Command. We had the research module installed weeks ago, and she didn’t waste any time claiming it for her project.”

  “What project, sir?”

  “Damned if I know. I haven’t had time to ask much about it. Command sent the orders in.”

  Adam raised an eyebrow. General Watkins was the first step down from Space Force Command, a group of a dozen four and five-star generals and admirals pulled in from the old branches of the military when the mission shifted from fighting the trife to running from them. That he didn’t know what Valentine had brought on board or why made his skin crawl like he was getting a tattoo.

  “General,” Major Ng said, her face pale. “We’ve got a problem. Lift four is offline. A malfunction in the servos. We don’t have time to fix it.”

  “Damn it,” Watkins said. “What’s the attrition rate?”

  “Twenty to one right now,” Major Jackson said.

  “How many are down there?”

  “Two thousand.”

  Adam did the math along with the General. Losing the lift was going to cost at least twenty Marines their lives.

  “Pre-burn at eighty percent, General,” the private announced.

  “Sir, whoever isn’t on board by the time we reach one hundred--” Adam started to say.

  “I’m aware, Lieutenant. I hate losing them more than you do.”

  Adam wasn’t sure that was true, but he could see the pain in Watkin’s expression. Things had gone from bad to worse in no time flat. The rushed nature of the ship’s construction was leading to malfunctions they weren’t expecting, and it had already cost them more lives than they could count.

  They could only hope the massive sled that was supposed to carry them through the atmosphere and into orbit didn’t break down.

  “Private Osborne, activate the cameras,” General Watkins said. “Let’s open our eyes.”

  “Yes, sir,” the private replied.

  A moment later, the dark displays around the bridge lit up. The light from the thrusters blinded most of them, but a few of the cameras revealed a view of the cavern from around the Deliverance. One of them was pressed against the side of a trife, exposing smooth black leathery flesh.

  “Eighty-five percent,” the other private, Delfina said.

  “Are there any units still out in the open?” Watkins asked.

  “Negative, sir,” Major Jackson replied.

  “Private Smith, prepare to trigger the charges.”

  “Yes, sir. Remote connection is active.”

  Watkins looked back at the officers. Adam knew the general was hesitant to bring the mountain down around them when there might still be people they could save. They didn’t have a choice.

  “Do it,” Watkins said.

  The bridge suddenly fell so silent Adam could hear Private Smith tap the control panel to activate the explosives. Everything seemed to hang frozen for a moment, peaceful and still and perfect.

  Only for a moment. The first charges started detonating, muffled explosions closer to the surface of the mountainside. They were joined a few seconds later by the second layer of explosives, more powerful and closer to the Deliverance.

  The ground started to shake, the rumble increasing in volume through the hull. The cameras showed the rock and debris begin to tumble down, the shaped charge pushing most of the dirt away from the Deliverance, but not all.

  “Sir, lift two is offline,” Major Ng said.

  Something started beeping on the bridge, and Adam looked over to the station. A map of the ship was displayed there, with parts of it turning orange.

  “Internal systems are malfunctioning,” the private at the station said.

  “We aren’t holding up well to the shaking,” Adam said.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it,” General Watkins said. “We just passed the point of no return.”

  “Ninety percent,” Private Delfina said.

  “Private Junis, turn off power to the sled lifts,” Major Jackson said.

  “What?” Watkins said, glaring at him.

  The Major’s face was white. They all knew what the order meant.

  Every ATCS outside the Deliverance was registering a flatline.

  “Sled lifts disconnected, sir,” Private Junis replied.

  “Ninety-five percent.”

  “Junis, make sure all of the external hatches are sealed,” Watkins said. “Run an emergency bypass to lock them down.”

  “Sir? What about the hangar?”

  “The hangar too. It won’t seal until the techs get it fixed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The rumbling continued, the Deliverance shaking, the cavern vanishing around it as the top of the mountain sank beside the massive vessel. Dirt had piled up on a number of the active cameras, hiding the world around them once more.

  “One hundred percent burn, General,” Private Delfina announced.

  “Captain Rogers, release all mooring clamps and fire the sled thrusters, full power,” General Watkins said.

  “Yes, sir,” Captain Rogers replied.

  Adam couldn’t see the ship’s pilot from his position near the holotable, but he felt the change in inertia almost immediately. The sudden movement caused him to reach for the table, using it to balance himself. The ship’s dampeners would only do so much, especially during liftoff.

  “Three meters,” Captain Rogers announced. “Six meters. Twelve meters. Thirty meters.”

  They were climbing.

  Everyone on the bridge gave out a short cheer, muffled by the stark reality of their situation.

  They were leaving Earth behind. The only home any of them had ever known. While they might all survive the trip to Proxima, the path that lay ahead was anything but smooth. The present was anything but smooth too.

  They were leaving Earth behind.

  And the trife were coming with them.

  Chapter 22

  Caleb turned slightly and fired, a burst of half a dozen rounds that cut down a group of incoming trife. Sho released a barrage of her own beside him, covering his flank and pulling down a few of the demons.

  Washington stood close to them both, a large knife in his meaty hand. His rifle had gone dry a minute earlier, leaving him to settle for grabbing and stabbing anything that tried to get too close. The big man was fortunate his reach was longer than that of most demon’s, making it easier for him to cut them before they could get to him.

  The hangar was nearly overrun with trife, so many having broken through the stuck blast doors. It was a wonder any of the Marines defending it were still alive. They had mostly consolidated in the back of the space, using the massive loaders stored there as cover while they took potshots at the demons and did their best to keep them off the techs working on the doors. All of their ammo load-outs were getting low, and Washington wasn’t the only combatant who had been forced to resort to close-in fighting.

  Somehow, they had managed to hold the line.

  Somehow, they had managed to keep the techs clear to finish their work.

  But if something didn’t change soon, Caleb wasn’t sure it would last.

  He rotated again, firing a single round into a trife that was trying to jump him from the wing of a drone. He shifted again, shooting a second that had ducked underneath the fuselage and tried to sneak up on him. Washington took care of a third, reaching out with his long arm and stabbing it in the chest as it tried to jump down at him.

  Sho’s rifle fired three more rounds and then fell silent.

  “I’m empty,” she announced, dropping the weapon to the floor and pulling her knife.

  “We can’t hold out like this,” Corporal Hafizi said.

  “We’re almost there,” Caleb replied. He could see the light from the sled’s thrusters and feel the slight shivering of the Deliverance as it prepared to launch. “As soon as we clear the ground, we’ll only have to clean up what’s left of them.”

  “If there’s anything left of us,” Sho said.

  Caleb’s gut hurt from the comment. He had lost almost all of the Marines Major Lyle had given him, save for his two Vultures, Corporal Hafizi and Private Won. Of the nearly one hundred green marks that had been on the tactical a few minutes earlier, only a dozen or so remained.

  The red marks still numbered in the hundreds.

  The battle came to a pause a moment later, a sudden rumble sounding from somewhere above the Deliverance and taking both humans and trife by surprise. They all stopped fighting for a second as the ground started trembling, shaking the starship and prompting Caleb to reach out and grab the wing of the drone to steady himself. Sho fell to her knees, and a moment later tons of rubble began dropping past the half-open blast door. The deafening roar of the collapse drowned out everything else.

  The trife recovered a split-second before the Marines. Caleb nearly lost his head as a demon bounded at him from the other side of one of the APVs, swinging a clawed hand at his throat. A knife sprouted from the creature’s head, thrown with enough force to knock it sideways and away from him. Caleb looked back at Washington, who grinned in response. He flashed the big man a thumbs up and shot another trife coming his way.

  The Deliverance continued to shake. One of the pipes along the hangar’s ceiling burst and steam started spraying out from it, high enough over their heads that it didn’t cause any immediate damage.

  “Sergeant Card, we’ve got trife breaking through the line,” Major Lyle said. “The right flank is broken, and the bastards are moving into the stairwell. Take your squad and get after them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Caleb replied. “You heard the Major, once we get clear, we – ”

  A sudden mass of trife suddenly poured in through the open hangar door, pressing against one another, hissing and screaming in a chorus of fear. They were flowing like water, forced from the cavern into the hangar to escape the falling debris.

  “Belay that order, Sergeant,” Lyle said. “One thing at a time.”

  “Roger that, Major,” Caleb replied. “Don’t let them through.”

  Caleb aimed and fired, the trife gathered so densely in the entrance to the hangar that one round dropped two of them. He fired again and again, killing another and then another before killing two more. The other Marines in the hangar did the same, taking measured shots one round at a time, the number of trife making it impossible to miss.

  The creatures didn’t stand near the open door for long. They started moving, splitting and spreading away from the center and rushing the remaining humans, including Caleb and his squad.

  Caleb remained calm. Aim and shoot. Aim and shoot. Aim and shoot. Trife dropped in front of him like bowling pins, but more replaced them right away, closing the gap in a hurry. Caleb fired his last round, dropping the rifle and switching to his sidearm to continue the defense.

  The Deliverance continued to rumble, and a moment later he felt the sudden pressure on his body, inertia pulling him back and down. He shifted his feet to stay upright, watching the trife stumbled before regaining their balance. He glanced at the blast door and could see the world moving outside.

  They were starting to rise.

  “Got it!” he heard someone shout over the deafening cacophony.

  The blast doors finally started to move.

  “Great timing,” Sho said. “That might’ve helped five minutes ago.”

  Caleb didn’t reply. He moved his gun hand, firing a round into a closing trife, finding another target and shooting again. The pressure was increasing, the Deliverance continuing to accelerate. They were in the process of leaving Earth behind. It should have been an experience to savor and remember, regardless of what came next.