Awakened (Saturn's Legacy Book 4) by Joshua James

Author:Joshua James [James, Joshua]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2023-11-25T00:00:00+00:00

Stepping inside the mouth of the cave was a welcome relief. The cooler air washed over my skin, engulfing me in a damp coolness that I hadn’t experienced in almost two years, at least without the aid of my suit. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sensation of cool soil beneath the soles of my feet, or the spongy give of the ground against my toes.

During the attack, I had seen lights flickering in the mouth of the cave, but they had receded, and if it hadn’t been for a faint golden glow far ahead of me, I might have thought I was alone.

It was tempting to turn off my light to avoid detection, but I wasn’t sure what kind of technology my opponents might have, apart from their magnets. For all I knew, the tunnels were lined with cameras that would allow the locals to track my every move. Turning off the light would put me at an even greater disadvantage on their home turf.

I was only a few dozen yards from the mouth of the cave when my light caught something yellow on the walls. At first, I thought it might be blood—after all, I wasn’t sure what color the blood running through these people’s veins might be—but when I turned my light on it, I paused.

The yellow was a splotch of pigment, possibly paint, blown across the wall in a circle a foot and a half wide. At the center of the circle was a handprint the color of the stone beneath.

I took a step closer, lowering my rifle. Someone must have splattered the pigment while keeping their hand on the rock. It was a signature, a mark of individuality, one that said, I was here.

I paused long enough to lift my own hand to that silhouette. Whoever had left the mark had no thumb, only four blunted fingers. My hand was much larger, my digits much longer, slim but with padded fingertips. Like whoever had made this mark, I only had four digits, compared to Kelley’s five.

I had told Kelley that we were the aliens on this world, and this handprint only proved it. All the same, I rested my palm against the rough stone, where some previous individual had left a simple mark of their passing, proof that they had lived.

If I’d still been wearing my helmet, I wouldn’t have heard the soft movement from nearby within the tunnel. I whirled, lifting the rifle to my shoulder, planting my feet wide apart to brace for impact.

Silence followed, but it did not reassure me. The path before me was still empty, and nothing moved against the walls.

On impulse, I flicked my gaze upward. Two large, yellow-gold coins glinted among the stones, and I tilted the barrel of my laser rifle upward to illuminate the slim figure that clung upside-down from the ceiling.

The attackers that had killed Savannah had been dressed in bulky natural armor, but this one wore nothing at all. It had the

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