Cruz: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Hell Squad Book 2) Read online

  Santha stopped her bike with a skid. The rest of Hell Squad came out of cover.

  “Thanks for the warning and the help,” Marcus said.

  She nodded. “You should get going. Their usual MO is to come in with a larger force, and a pack of canids.”

  Cruz grimaced. He hated canids. The alien hunting dogs were vicious and relentless.

  Marcus cursed. “We were supposed to check for some survivors our drones spotted in a school about a block from here.”

  Santha shook her head. “They left three days ago. Don’t know where they are now.”

  Marcus nodded. “Thanks.” He touched his ear. “Elle, can you send a Hawk our way and have the doc meet us back at base? Jenkins is injured.” Marcus glanced at his team. “Hell Squad, let’s move out. Gabe, carry Sam.”

  The armor’s exoskeleton meant that carrying a team member, even for several hours, wasn’t hard, but Cruz knew Gabe probably didn’t need the help of the exoskeleton.

  Cruz stepped close to Santha. “Come with us.”

  Another shake of her head.

  He moved closer until his body was just a whisper from hers. He smelled her—sweat and a fragrant woody scent. “Come back to base. There’s a place for you there.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Dammit. Cruz barely resisted the urge to kick something. He hated the idea of her out here, alone. “Why not?”

  Her green eyes flashed. “I have work to do.”

  He leaned closer and saw her stiffen. “Don’t you get lonely?” he asked quietly.

  “You think being with a bunch of strangers will help with that?” She tilted her head. “You’re with people all the time and you’re still lonely.”

  Cruz felt his muscles tense. He stepped back. “What are you going to do?”

  She revved the bike. “Keep fighting.”

  With frustration like a noose around his neck, he forced himself to nod. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

  She flashed him a smile. The first he’d ever seen from her. “Sure thing, soldier.”

  She gunned the bike and shot away.

  Cruz watched her disappear from sight. Yeah, she was right. Even surrounded by his team, he was lonely as hell.

  Chapter Two

  Cruz gripped the side of the Hawk as the four rotors swiveled and it began its descent.

  They lowered through a circular opening, covered by retracting doors that blended into the surrounding forest. General Holmes, the head honcho, worked damn hard to keep the base a secret from the raptors.

  As soon as the Hawk’s rotors stopped spinning, Cruz leaped off. He was tired and smelled like sweat and raptor blood. He scowled. He’d have to make do with a cold shower, though, since hot water was only available in the morning. The geek squad were working on squeezing more power out of the high-tech solar power system, but when it came to powering the base, hot water was the lowest priority.

  A few military personnel were bustling around the landing pads—mostly maintenance teams, logistics staff and pilots. Everyone wore a mix of uniforms blended with civilian clothes. Most arms of the United Coalition military had been decimated in the alien invasion. Whatever soldiers had survived had been cobbled together into the squads.

  Even Hell Squad was a motley mix. They had UC Marines, like himself and Marcus, and the others were a mix of UC Army, Navy and SAS. But what they’d been before didn’t really matter anymore. Now they were just Hell Squad, being sent to do the dirtiest, bloodiest fighting, again and again.

  Once more, that nagging, empty feeling hit him. He unfastened his chest armor, pulled it off and slung it over his shoulder. The world was fucked. Nothing would ever be the same. It felt like they weren’t doing much more than nipping at the raptors’ heels, but even if they did fight them off—and that was a big if in his opinion—there would be so much rebuilding to do. Too much.

  A headache started behind his left eye.

  “Who’s hurt this time?” Dr. Emerson Green bustled forward, her lab coat streaming behind her and her blonde hair swinging in a blunt cut that hit her jawline. Two medics waited with an iono-stretcher floating off the ground behind her.

  “New recruit,” Cruz said. “Sam.”

  “I take it he didn’t make the cut.” She waved at her medics to get Sam on the stretcher. Her gaze scanned the Hawk, running over each member of the team. Cruz saw the way her gaze stopped on the still and silent Gabe.

  Yeah, they were all worried about Gabe. Since his twin brother had died, the usually quiet, intense man had become even more withdrawn. What Cruz didn’t like most was the habit Gabe had of disappearing for periods of time with no explanation. He was worried Gabe was a ticking bomb…and Cruz didn’t want Gabe, or anyone else, hurt if he happened to go off.

  A slim figure came out of one of the tunnel entrances leading off the landing pads. She was running, her dark-brown hair flowing behind her. Her gaze zeroed in on Marcus and a smile lit up her pretty face. She launched herself at their team leader.

  He caught her with one arm, yanked her up to his chest and slammed his mouth down on hers.

  Elle Milton certainly wasn’t the same person she’d been before the attack. A former society party girl, she was now Hell Squad’s comms officer and she was damn good at it. She was also crazy in love with big, tough, scarred Marcus.

  Watching them made Cruz’s melancholy deepen. He was damned happy for his friend. If anyone deserved someone who looked at him like Elle did, it was Marcus. But watching the obvious connection between the two cut through Cruz like a combat knife. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Damn, he needed a good night’s sleep.

  Claudia nudged him with her shoulder. “Gabe and I are heading to the rec room for a beer.” She shot a sharp look at the team’s sniper. “And Shaw invited himself along to be annoying. Wanna join us?”

  Cruz shook his head. “Rain check?”

  “Roger that.” Claudia sauntered away and shot a glance back over her shoulder. “Hey, your badass girl saved our butts again. We owe her.”

  His badass girl. Cruz fought a scowl. “Yeah.”

  He took the tunnel to his quarters. He was nearly there when Lainey, one of the base’s schoolteachers, popped up beside him. He’d flirted with her a few times at the regular Friday-night parties. She was short, with dangerous curves and an open face. Pretty, fresh, and not afraid to show her interest.

  “Hey, Cruz.”

  “Lainey.”

  She smiled, fiddling with her strawberry-blonde hair. “Would you like join me for dinner? A few of the other teachers are meeting in the dining room.”

  Cruz waited for the hit of heat. The stir of his cock.

  Nothing. “Just got in from a mission. Not up for it tonight.”

  She leaned into him, her breast rubbing against his arm. “We could have a private party, then.”

  He should be all over it. Pounding his frustration out between Lainey’s creamy thighs would be better than brooding. And it would feel a hell of a lot better, too.

  But a long, slim body was the one that popped into his head. Dominated his thoughts. He didn’t want the lovely Lainey.

  He wanted Santha Kade.

  “Sorry, Lainey.”

  The woman’s mouth tipped downward, and she shrugged. “Okay. Catch you later, Cruz.”

  Since the invasion, in this small enclave of humanity, attitudes to sex had changed dramatically. It was seen as a way to reaffirm life, to feel a connection when so many had lost their loved ones. And he’d been more than happy to partake at first.

  But as he’d started to feel more disconnected, he’d begun to push the offers away. The last few months, drumming up interest in a woman had become too much work.

  Until Santha had slammed a crossbow bolt into a canid intent on tearing him apart.

  She’d saved Hell Squad more than once. She was out there, fighting the aliens. Alone.

  Cruz slammed into his quarters, yanked off the rest of his armor and clothes and hit the
shower. After the very cold water had washed away the filth, he nabbed a bottle of homebrewed beer from his mini-fridge and sat in the dark, nursing the bottle. He knew he should get out and shake off this dark mood, but right now, he didn’t have it in him.

  A knock at the door made him scowl.

  He opened it to see Marcus standing in his doorway.

  Cruz raised a brow. “You managed to drag yourself away from Elle?”

  Marcus grunted and came inside. “Got a summons from Holmes.”

  A smile broke on Cruz’s lips. General Holmes—in his early forties, highly educated with a distinguished air and a love of following the rules—clashed badly with Marcus’s rough, tough way of doing things.

  Cruz held up his bottle. “Beer?”

  Marcus grunted his agreement and Cruz popped the top off another homebrew and handed it over.

  Marcus sank into an armchair and took a sip. “Holmes got some intel that a group of human survivors are being kept prisoner by the raptors.”

  Cruz leaned against the small bench that made up his tiny kitchenette. “Prisoners? We’ve seen raptors take prisoners, but they’re usually dead within a few hours.”

  “These ones have been there for months.”

  Cruz straightened. “Why? What are they doing with them?”

  “Don’t know. Learning our language, our way of life? Who knows with these alien bastards? A survivor made it here to base and said he saw these prisoners before he managed to escape. Said a Dr. Randall Lonsdale and a Dr. Natalya Vasin are among the prisoners. Two genius energy scientists.”

  Shit. “Who the raptors could learn a lot from.”

  “Yeah. And whose expertise could be used around here.”

  “When do we go in?”

  Marcus took another long drag of his beer. “That’s the problem. We don’t know where they’re being held.”

  “Shit.”

  “I suggested to Holmes that Santha could help.”

  Cruz straightened. “What?”

  “She’s been doing recon in the city since the raptors arrived. I’m guessing she knows their movements and where they’re holed up better than anybody.”

  “Our drone footage—”

  “Isn’t enough. The raptors are good at jamming signals and are learning to dodge them. We don’t have nearly enough info to find these prisoners. Santha might have seen something or knows something that could help us locate them.”

  Yeah, Cruz knew she’d be a big asset. That’s why he tried so hard to convince to come with them. He gave a mental snort. Okay, that wasn’t the real reason. She’d be a hell of a lot safer here at the base and she’d be here, near him. Just the thought of her was like a shot of adrenaline to the veins. “So we head in and find her.”

  Except they didn’t know where she holed up. She always found them.

  “Elle’s started working on that. She’s been marking the times we’ve run into Santha and locations where we know she’s attacked the raptors. We should be able to narrow down a location and find her.”

  Cruz nodded. “Let’s get to work.”

  ***

  The sun was setting, spreading shadows through the ruins of Sydney. Santha moved quickly and quietly. She only had twenty minutes to set the explosives before the raptors arrived.

  She moved through the old gas station. The windows of the store were shattered, the shelves empty and a drinks fridge knocked on its side. Outside, the sign indicating the prices for gas, hydrogen and battery recharge had toppled, and leaves were piled up against the front door, rotting.

  She’d seen the raptors using this place for storage. Putting something liquid in the underground storage tanks. She guessed it was some sort of fuel. She’d stolen a raptor ground transport once—an ugly, brute-looking vehicle that reminded her of a triceratops. It had run on some black, sludge-like substance.

  Moving fast, she swung her backpack off and plucked out the small circular Nova charges, each about the size of her palm. They were small, compact and powerful. She pressed one to the side of the pump. A light blinked on—activated—then blinked off.

  After the first wave of the invasion, Santha hadn’t hysterically run through the streets, or headed west looking for the military to protect her. She’d broken into abandoned stores, and military and police installations, and stockpiled weapons, armor and explosives.

  She glanced toward the west and wondered, just for a second, what it would be like to be safe and warm in Blue Mountain Base. And at the same time, she wondered what Cruz’s warm naked body would feel like pressed against hers.

  Sighing, she leaned her forehead against the cool metal of the pump beside her. He was destroying her concentration. She’d prided herself on her laser-sharp focus when she’d been on the SWAT team. The guys had joked that nothing could distract Santha from her work.

  Now her work was destroying the raptors. It had been the reason she’d kept living, kept breathing, for the year since the invasion. It had kept her warm at night, kept her company when the shadows of loneliness dogged her. She needed her focus now, more than ever.

  With a shake of her head, she stuck another charge on the next pump and waited for the light. Revenge was all she needed. Warm bases and warm bodies were a luxury she couldn’t afford.

  She eyed the charges. One more should be enough. She didn’t want to overdo it when she had no idea if what they were storing was explosive or flammable. She didn’t want to leave a crater or set what was left of the city up in flames.

  A growling sound echoed down the empty street.

  The hairs on the back of her neck rose. With hurried movements, she stuck the last charge on the lid covering the underground tank. Then she shoved the rest of her stuff in the backpack and swung it onto her back. Time to go.

  The snarls and growls got louder, followed by an almost wolf-like howl.

  Except she knew these were no wolves.

  They came into view, racing along the street in a vicious pack. Canids.

  The canine-like aliens had thick, tough skin, spikes along their backs, and jaws filled with wicked teeth. They’d also developed a taste for human flesh.

  Dammit. Santha sprinted back around the gas station building, squeezed through a hole in the fence and ran in the opposite direction. She lifted her gaze to the rooftops. Up was best. Canids could jump but they weren’t the best climbers.

  She spied an apartment building ahead. She’d scale the wall, wait the canids out, and then as a bonus, she might get to watch the raptors blow themselves to tiny alien pieces while she was at it.

  But she was halfway to the building when raptor fire hit the ground around her. The green poison sizzled and hissed. She dived over it, rolled and got straight back to her feet.

  Santha cursed under her breath. A raptor patrol was coming from the opposite direction, leaving her trapped in between. Eight of them, all armed.

  She pulled her two Shockwave laser pistols from their holsters on her hips and fired. She didn’t bother aiming. She just wanted enough distraction to get to cover.

  Some of the raptors scattered, others kept firing.

  Santha walked backwards, her green lasers lighting up the street. As she neared a shop front, she turned and ran.

  The door to the grocery store stood open like a gaping mouth. She’d just reached it when raptor fire tore across her left thigh.

  “Ahh.” She almost went down but grabbed the door frame. The burning pain was indescribable. Panting, she pulled herself inside.

  Fuck. The acidic poison was chewing through her trousers and eating through her skin. Now she was bleeding profusely, too, her trousers wet with her blood. Not good.

  Gritting her teeth and fighting to stay conscious, she grabbed a grenade from her belt, ripped out the pin and tossed it outside.

  She didn’t wait to see what happened. She heard the bang, and the yells of the raptors, but she also heard the growls of the canids getting closer. She quickly grabbed a tube of med-gel off her belt, ripp
ed the lid off with her teeth and squeezed the entire tube onto her wound.

  Instantly, the pain eased a little. It was all she could do for the moment. She needed to get out of there…because the raptor poison also paralyzed.

  Santha hobbled to the back of the store and out into a narrow alley. She hadn’t gone far when she realized she was leaving a hell of a blood trail.

  Shit. She squeezed her eyes shut. The pain might have lessened but it was still bad enough to have bile rising in her throat. She swallowed repeatedly and kept moving, but it wasn’t long before she was dragging her leg and sobbing from the pain. The paralyzing effect of the raptor toxin was shutting down the muscles in her leg.

  The canid yips and howls were getting louder.

  She wouldn’t make it. Not like this.

  Santha slumped against the side of a building. After fumbling in the pouch attached to her belt, she yanked out a pressure injector filled with a blue liquid. She dragged in a breath, jabbed it into her good thigh and depressed it.

  Wincing, she waited until the bracer shot hit her. It was a cocktail of stimulants and painkillers designed for use by Special Forces troops on the front line. The advantage was it would hold off the paralysis and she could get away. The downside was that when it wore off, she’d collapse, out cold.

  The bracer hit in a few seconds and Santha tilted her head back, savoring the sensation as the pain faded away and adrenaline surged through her. Her senses sharpened, and energy flashed through her in a seductive rush.

  She grabbed a tourniquet from her pouch and yanked it tight around the top of her thigh. She ignored the ugly wound.

  Then she ran.

  She knew the stims wouldn’t last long. She moved through buildings, ran along streets, leaped over abandoned cars. She needed as much distance between her and the aliens as she could get.

  But the excited yips and snarls of canids were still following her.

  They were tracking her.

  She ran faster. Her lungs burned.

  As she sprinted through what had once been a park, she rounded the now-overgrown playground where kids had once played and laughed. When had she last laughed? She knew. That last night with Kareena, before the fiery lights in the sky had turned night into day.