COLD WAR: Alien Strike: Book 3 by Ken Bebelle & Julia Vee

Author:Ken Bebelle & Julia Vee [Bebelle, Ken]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Military Science Fiction, alien invasion, first contact
Publisher: Sixth Moon Press
Published: 2017-11-29T22:00:00+00:00

***

He was marched back to the lab and secured to the tables again.

The small alien...the Mother...it came to the side of Jonesy’s bed and stood there a moment, gazing upon him with its dead eyes. Jonesy found the sight of the alien’s eyes strangely familiar now, less disconcerting. It reached up on scaly hand and gripped the end of his amputated arm. Its firm grip squeezed the end of his arm, and power, energy, flowed through his arm from the Mother. The hair on his arms and neck stood on end as the power built. His teeth began vibrating in his head and he clenched his jaw to keep them from chattering.

Still the flow of power increased. His breath came in panting beats through his teeth and he bucked against his restraints, arching his back as far as it would go. His hips lifted off the table, and his shoulders strained to the limit. The power leaked from his pores now, his arm felt like it was dipped in acid and flayed with razors.

He reached through his mind for Daina, but couldn’t find her. He faintly heard screaming, but that might be him screaming. He wasn’t sure.

As the pain reached for yet another crescendo, the door to the lab opened, and one of the scientist aliens came in, followed by two Hunters. Even through the bloody haze of his pain, Jonesy could still make out the strident emotions passing between them.

The scientist… no, that wasn’t right. It was more like, an Engineer.

For a moment, the wave of pain ebbed, leaving behind a dull throb in his arm. The tiny Mother alien turned away from and directed her gaze at the Engineer. Joney’s mind began to hum, a low level of static as if he had comms on the fritz. What the hell?

This was nothing like how he had connected with Daina. Instead, it was like he couldn’t quite connect at all, but he could catch occasional spikes as the sound roared briefly. Jeezus, am I hearing the aliens talk?

Blessed relief rippled up his arm as the Mother ignored Jonesy. The site where she gripped his arm radiated icy waves upward before fading into numbness. As he lay there, panting, the sounds in his head began to come together, no longer random noise. He strained to make sense of it, and in exhaustion closed his eyes.

Images began flooding the back of his eyelids. Alien landscapes, the Engineer collecting other humans. The Mother alien waving its arms at two more Engineers. Just how many of these things were there?

Jonesy couldn’t hear anything other than the rush of blood beating in his ears interspersed with the crazy loud white noise blares. Maybe it wasn’t talking. But he could swear that he understood the tone, like the feelings between the aliens in these montages playing against his eyelids.

They weren’t testing him or any of the others. They were just taking them apart, and seeing how they could put them back together. Like psychotic auto mechanics.

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