Hostile Genus: An Epic Military Sci-Fi Series (Invasive Species Book 2) by Ben Stevens (historical books to read TXT) 📕

he could see the catwalk from which he’d fallen. He remembered now trying to climb down the ladder, the jolt of fire that had shot through his shoulder… but the rest was a blank.

It was then that he remembered his hoverboard.

He raised his wrist to his face and punched a few buttons on his bracelet with a trembling, bloody finger. A few moments passed, the space between command and execution filled by the animal sounds of the vampire mob and Maya’s protection song, its lovely melody tainted by the edge of worry and fatigue in her voice. Then, in the split second before the board began to crack skulls and part the Red Sea, so to speak, Ratt took a deep inhalation and summoned a sound of his own.

“Maya!” he cried to the sky as loud as he could, overcoming the cacophony of scream and song.

Maya heard the boy’s cry and thought perhaps Ratt was calling for her out of fear, or because of his injuries. Then she saw one of the heads belonging to the wall of monsters that clawed at the edges of her sphere dip forward in a sudden and violent motion. Replacing it and coming straight toward her was Ratt’s oversized hoverboard.

A flash lit up her eyes, one part comprehension, two parts relief. Down the hatch went a shot of optimism, followed by a chaser of doubt that scrunched up her brow.

The shield! A double realization that hit as hard as any bullet slammed Maya’s mind. The board couldn’t penetrate the shield, meaning she would have to stop shaping Strange to allow it in, which would also allow the vampires to reach her. She took another two steps closer to Ratt, standing directly over him. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, wished Lucy and Jon well, then all at once quit the song and swept down to pick Ratt up.

“Come on, Ratt!” she squeaked as she tried to lift him up. The board was on them in a second and promptly lowered itself down to a height appropriate for its pre-programmed operator to easily be able to step onto it, were he standing. The incoming assailants were tripping over themselves to be the first to get at her. They were mad with rage, desperate for revenge for the slain, as well as to garner their queen’s favor. Maya knew that if they reached her and Ratt, their end would come. It would come messy, and it would come bloody, and it would come fast.

Ratt took her by the elbow even as her hands clutched the lapels of his leather jacket, pushing her off the ground with his other arm. His legs came alive underneath him, and he sat up halfway, rolling onto the obedient remote-controlled board.

The board began to ascend vertically the second Ratt was on it. Maya felt the fingernails of the vampire mob scratch down the flesh of her calf and tear at the edges of her clothes as she stepped onto the board and rose into the sky. Suddenly, the board's ascension hesitated. Maya panicked, knowing she and Ratt were seconds away from being torn to shreds like a hunk of steak thrown into a pack of hungry dogs.

Glancing around to see the source of the problem, Maya noticed the arm of the big vampire that had lunged and caught the edge of the board. A chain of other vampires clung to him and were now working together to pull the rising board back down to their level.

Maya lifted her foot and brought it down on the vampire’s fingers as hard as she could. Nothing. She tried again, this time keeping her foot there and twisting it back and forth. Still nothing.

Then, as suddenly as the board had stopped rising, it lurched again and began floating up like a released balloon. Maya felt for and realized that the muscled vampire's hand was still under her foot. Confused, she leaned over the edge of the board to see whether the chain of clutching vampires had broken and instead saw the severed arm hanging from beneath the board, pinned in place only by her foot. That was when the next sonic boom reached her ears.

She first glanced off in the direction of the foothills she knew were there in the darkness, overlooking and cradling the city, then she looked down into the faces and saw nothing but a sea of animals. No, they are below animals; animals kill only when hungry. Don Luis Fernando had tried to paint a picture of civilization here, tried to make her believe his delusion, that he and his kind were simply the ruling class and behaved with civility toward their flock, not even killing, but “milking,” as it were, taking just enough to sustain them, while keeping everyone alive.

Animals? No, not by a long shot.

Maya stared at a sea of gibbering, howling monsters, and shuddered.

If Don Luis Fernando was to sit down with himself and have a serious, nakedly honest chat about the attribute that he would most credit for his survival and rise to power, it would be his ability to identify an opportunity and seize it.

It was much like the opportunity you might seize when waiting for a person to bend down to tie their boot laces before you slip a poisoned dagger into their ribs from behind.

Cunning? Maybe. Daring? Not really. Don Luis was all about survival at any cost. Running to live and fight another day was the norm, but every norm has its exceptions. Capturing and enslaving the Drop-Beastie that had made him had been one of those exceptions. Leaving the relative safety of cover to take out Lucy instead of fleeing was another.

From his sheltered crouch, he watched Lucy leap over him and sprint into the crowds at the edge of the plaza. He realized with growing dread that she had transformed from Lily Sapphire’s assistant and sound booth operator into a whirling dervish of perfect death, becoming,