Page 3 of Star-Born Anomaly
The shielding rippled blue and green around her, stretching upward to protect all four fields like a tent. Wynn double checked the settings. Set to maximum, it would keep every drop of rain from damaging the seeds. Hopefully those first few drops hadn’t harmed them. She let out a long breath, her limbs trembling after the burst of adrenaline.
The world around her continued to darken under the approaching storm, then lightning flashed, rippling below the clouds like breaking glass. Thunder cracked a moment later. The sound punched her eardrums. She leaned back, the control hub pressing into her spine, and tipped her head to the sky. Mesmerized, she watched as a wall of rain rolled straight toward her.
The shields sizzled blue and green when the moisture hit, then the swirling clouds took over, darkening the day to night. She squinted toward Research Station 214, and couldn’t see the tether through the thickness of the clouds and incoming rain.
But something moved on the horizon below, about to be swallowed by the storm, a dark shape against brown terrain—something that shouldn’t be there.
Wynn’s chest seized with panic. She reached for the pulse rifle and grabbed nothing but air, remembering too late she’d left it in the hovercart meters away. The urge to run nearly overwhelmed her, but her feet remained planted.
Heart in her throat. She swiped her PALM against the UV-suit’s control panel, activating her visor’s interface.
Category five storm. Take cover.
The message repeated itself across her vision, but nothing told her what marred the horizon.
Had someone from Research Station 214 decided to check on her when her comms were down? She shook off the idea. They would have driven a hover vehicle, not walked.
A spike of lightning lit up everything around her. Wynn refocused on the thing in the distance in the wake of its brightness. It looked about the same size as a person.
Or an animal.
Thunder cracked louder than the last one, making her jump.
Dread roiling in stomach, Wynn turned, snapped the control panel closed with a click, then forced her feet to move. The wind picked up, swirling and twisting around her legs while the blue and green shields rippled above as the rain continued to drizzle.
She reached the hovercart, grabbed the pulse rifle out of the bed, and tucked it against her shoulder, finger on the trigger. Using the scope, she aimed it toward Research Station 214. The magnifier didn’t have enoughrange to tell her exactly what it was, just a dark, undefined mass, but it was heading toward her steadily, maybe even slowing.
Opening both eyes, she stared above the scope.Only one.There was only one of it. If it were a beast, wouldn’t it have brought its friends? Itspack, the media kept calling them.
Lightning exploded above her, reaching its fingers under the clouds. Wynn blinked away the streaks in her eyes and focused on the form in the distance. It looked like a person. But why would they be out there? She rechecked her PALM, and found no messages from Research Station 214. If they were sending someone, then they would have notified her. It didn’t make sense.
The rain picked up, the net above her undulating constantly. Wind slapped against her body, making her sway. The environmental warning pulsed red at the bottom of her visor. She couldn’t stay out here any longer.
Wynn slid the pulse rifle between the passenger seat and the dashboard, then jogged around the front of the hovercart to jump in the driver’s seat. She pressed the start button. The engine sputtered, then died.
Her chest squeezed, echoed by another rolling rumble of distant thunder. She tried the start button again. The engine sputtered once more, then went silent.
“No. No. No.” This had happened before—the day Foster died.
She pressed the button again, and her throat closed up when she got the same results. She smacked the control panel with both hands, then gripped the throttle like she could break it apart.
Lifting her head, she focused on that figure in the distance. It didn’t look like it had gotten any closer during the past few minutes. The beasts had traveled quickly, giving her and Foster no time to seek shelter.
Lightning flashed, then another, followed by a louder crash of thunder than before. The sound rattled her helmet around her head, making her grit her teeth.
She picked up the pulse rifle again and looked through its scope. Another bolt of lightning lit up the terrain in the space between her and Research Station 214. She blinked away the bright cracks lingering in her retinas and focused.
The thing in the distance looked the same, a dark shape against a brown horizon, but it was getting harder to see with the rain now spreading between them.
What the hell was it? Her binoculars back at the outpost could see farther, and would give her more information. Wynn lowered the rifle, returning it to its place.
Inhaling a deep breath, she pressed the start button again. “Come on. Please.”
The engine rumbled to life. The vibration traveled through her body to her jittery hands. She gripped the throttle and put it into gear. Her foot slammed on the accelerator, the cart shooting off like a pulse cannon. She drove straight down the row at full speed. Once clear of the netting, she slowed and took the turn to her outpost.
No longer within the enviro-net’s protection, wind slammed into her like a wall. Rain splattered against the hood of the hovercart and her visor, the percussive sound beating into her head and body. She wiped her vision clear, her hand shaking. Water coated the ground, deep channels forming in the cracks. Without her UV-suit, she would be soaked through.
A warning flashed on the hovercart’s control panel, telling her to take cover.
