Century Run

By Michael W. Davis

Losing his family to an alien invasion was the single most horrific thing in young Lex's life. Joining Omni Corps, an elite fighting force with technology that allows the soldiers to live indefinitely, gives Lex and his team the chance to kill the beasts that destroyed old Earth. But as hundreds of years pass, Lex questions the validity of their missions and begins to long for a normal life.

 

But Omni Corps is big business, and the bureaucrats want to hold onto power. Can Lex and the members of his squad invoke the Century Run clause of their contracts, or will the people they've been protecting for so long find a way to have them terminated?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Champagne Book Group
• Release date: Sep 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781771552219

Book preview

BURST Presents

Century Run

By

Michael W. Davis

HIGH RIVER, AB

CANADA

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

BURST

www.burstbooks.ca

A Division of Champagne Books

Copyright 2016 by Michael W. Davis

ISBN 978-1-77155-221-9

August 2016

Cover Art by SelfPubBookCovers.com/Daniela

Produced in Canada

Champagne Book Group

19-3 Avenue SE

High River, AB T1V 1G3

Canada

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Champagnebooks.com (or a retailer of your choice) and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Other Works By Michael Davis

Tainted Hero

Forgotten Children

Blind Consent

Brok Hon

Shadow Of Guilt

The Treasure

Rimfire

Echoes

Essence

Touch Of Blue

Righteous Furty

Final Solution

Final Truth

Never Forgotten

Home World

Co-Written With Candace Morehouse

Veil Of Deception

Whispers Of Innocence

Co-Written With Ciara Gold

Distant Obsession

In Loving Memory

Shortly after this book was written, Michael Davis passed away, following a lengthy illness. The staff at CBG worked hard to bring this book to press, as his last fiction piece, thanks to the efforts of his editor, Cassie Knight, and the support of the Davis family.

Mike was a long time member of the Champagne family. He was warm, funny, and caring. He loved mentoring and encouraging other authors, and always had a word of advice for anyone needing one. He had a gentle but firm way of relaying that same advice to those who weren’t quite ready to hear it.

I had the privilege and honor of calling Mike ‘friend’ for the last eight years. He was my voice of reason in a storm of insanity. My chuckle when life was getting too much. My counsel when faced with a difficult decision. I’ll miss my friend dearly.— J. Ellen Smith, Publisher, Champagne Book Group

To those that make my characters come to life by reading my stories, thank you.—Michael Davis

One

Then

Like flashing back thirty years. So much like his father.

Max studied the features, the physical mannerisms of his seven-year-old grandson as he simulated an air-to-air assault between strange extraterrestrial figures and an official model from the orbital patrol museum gift shop. Though but a toy, it reflected the same outline of his old one-man Intruder craft.

Even the family flair for capturing objects on paper with a mere pencil lived within his grandson’s hands. Max scanned the checkerboard pattern of taped parchment around the wall. Drawings of imagery alien creatures. Space borne craft with curves to make any aerospace engineer jealous. Charcoal style portraits of his mother and sister. Even the gray-haired image of Max himself was like looking in a mirror.

Amazing. So many choices for his future.

Possibilities his son and grandchild would never share. A wave of guilt drenched his thoughts. Self-incrimination, the reality that James, his only male offspring, followed Max’s path in searching for the promise offered in the stars continued to gnaw at his heart.

Too young. He’ll never remember what a remarkable man his father was.

Lex must have sensed his grandfather leaning against the door and lunged to switch off the vapor screen floating beside the wall. Sorry, Granpapa. I know I’m not supposed to watch that channel.

No need to apologize, bud. I understand your curiosity about space travel. Just make sure your mom doesn’t catch you.

Yeah, why is she like that?

Isn’t that complicated? He advanced to the edge of the bed and sat. Not to hear anything about your dad for six months then some news leak reports him being lost on a secret deep space recon mission. No explanation, no contact from Space Command, just the image of that weird shaped object on his screen before it blinked out. Hard way for a woman to learn she’ll never again see her husband. Max lifted his old personal pilot pack from the bed and ran two fingers atop the threaded letters, Colonel Max Olsen. Sure you don’t want me to buy you a new one. This thing is ancient.

Lex slid the tough neoprene-constructed shoulder knapsack into his own lap. Nope. Works great. Holds all my stuff, and I just like it—a lot. I’ll never get rid of it.

Max smiled. Believe me, Bud, I understand. I’m curious, Lex. Do you still remember times with your dad?

Sure. Well, some, especially when we’d go fishing.

As you get older, we need to talk about when James was your age, the things he did, always getting in trouble with his mom—kind of like you.

I’d like that. When?

How about next weekend. We can go camping on the island. Maybe catch some bass before they go dormant in the winter.

Outstanding, but just you and me, okay? Amy makes too much noise and mom’s always bossing me around.

I understand. His grandson rifled through the array of soldiers, spacecraft, plastic monsters, colored pencils, and of course, his eternal comrade and sleeping buddy, the raggedy stuffed rabbit, Blackie. Granpapa, you ever encounter any alien invaders when you flown up there, I mean in space?

He grinned at his imaginative grandson. Not that I recall.

Well, they’re out there right now.

Really.

Yeah. Guy on the news said…

Lex, transporter will be here from the academy any minute. A demanding feminine voice echoed from the first floor. Get down here now.

Max mussed the boy’s hair. Boss is calling. He ventured to the door. I’ll tell her you’re on your way. Don’t want to miss your first day at school.

He descended the stairway, entered the kitchen, and said to his daughter, He’ll be here in a minute. Then, he advanced to his second grandchild playing at the table and stole a nibble of her bacon. Thanks sweetheart. Amy slapped her oatmeal with a spoon, laughed and uttered several garbled words. My sentiments exactly, girl. Max flipped on the vapor screen in the corner facing the table.

Dad, you know I don’t want the kid’s watching that thing, especially at breakfast.

Fine. I’ll go silent. He adjusted the volume and inserted the wireless receiver around his ear.

Young man, get down here right now or I’ll feed your breakfast to the dog. She tilted her head, obviously waiting for footsteps on the staircase. Lex! I know you hear me up there.

Max chuckled. I’ll get him. He exited the kitchen. Get down here right now or no fishing this weekend.

The trail of running feet across the ceiling signaled his threat had taken effect. I’m coming, I’m coming.

Max exchanged a glance with his daughter while she shook her head and transferred the boy’s plate to the table.

He fights me on everything.

Lex is a great kid, Angie. Just has his head on typical boy stuff.

She shoveled a spoon of oatmeal into her one-year-old daughter’s mouth. Girls are so much easier.

Yeah, well wait until they turn thirteen and start flirting with every hound dog that sniffs by.

I never did that.

Hell you didn’t.

Lex lurched into the room, removed his favorite stuffed animal from his sack then dropped the backpack by the door. He flew into a chair and plopped the black rabbit on the table. After gobbling two slices of pork belly, he said, Sorry, guys.

Get that thing off the table. He’s filthy.

Lex wrapped both arms around his make-believe pet. Blackie’s not hurting anything.

His mother huffed. See, Dad. He just ignores whatever I say.

No I don’t.

Max removed the object of contention from the disputed area and placed him on the corner of the bread cupboard. Will you two stop fighting all the time? Gives me a headache.

But she never shows him any respect. Lex frowned.

Lex, you need to learn how to accept a compromise.

He’s just as important as anyone else in this family.

I said stop. Max pointed at the ragged fur ball. Or I’ll toss him into the closest.

Fine.

Amy added her view on the topic with another whack of the table and a series of loud pitched nonsensical words.

Max stuffed a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth and confirmed, My thoughts exactly, young lady.

Angie brought two more plates from the stove, placed one in front of Max and sat at the table next to him.

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Lex suggested, I was watching a news report about those bursts of green light we saw two weeks ago in the sky. Know what they said?

Max said, Meteor shower, right?

No, nothing like that.

Eat first, then talk. Getting to her feet, Angie responded to the scratches at the screen door. Unlocking the latch, she allowed the dog inside. Clean your feet, Snowball. The white dog obeyed her command and advanced to hover beneath the table where the males began a periodic treat feast of scrambled eggs to the pet.

Angie wrinkled her nose. Stop feeding your breakfast to the dog. That’s why she suffers from diarrhea ever morning, and you guys are never here to clean the results.

Lex leaned into his grandfather. Has she always been this bossy?

Without a smile he confessed, Always.

I heard that, and Dad you promised to fix the plunger on that screen door. It just won’t close right. Raccoon snuck in and made a mess of the inside trash can last night.

I’ll go into town today and get the parts. He pointed at the TV. Wait a minute. Listen to this. He removed the screen from private mode.

I prefer the kids focus on the family at breakfast.

Damn it, Angie. Something important is going on. He adjusted the volume on the remote.

The government has determined that what appeared in the sky twelve days ago was not a local event as expected, but witnessed across the globe. Although initial assessments suggested meteor showers, we now know the event was caused by clusters of fabricated assemblies.

As seen in this photo taken by one of our orbital patrol ships, the bat-sized cylindrical items were etched with some form of alien markings. Many in the scientific community believe the recent appearance of strange mobile vegetation pods worldwide are correlated to the space debris that broke up in our atmosphere. This video was taken near the beach by several tourists before they were attacked and killed. Notice the creatures roll across terrain and appear much like Midwestern tumbleweed bushes, only these require no wind, rather are self-mobile and capable of speeds up to ten miles per hour.

Angie gasped. My God.

Angie, please. Just listen.

At first, botanists theorized this new species was a derivative mutation of our thistle weed, even forming spore bearing cryptogams similar to Earth breeds. Only these plants are lethal. Now, many believe these tumbleweed lookalikes are somehow related to the probes that invaded our atmosphere. This foreign species homes in on sound waves and ejects fibrous thorns at any mammalian lifeform. Once impaled, the victim becomes comatose. Within minutes, the spores spread throughout the body converting the flesh into mushroom-type stalks that eventually release miniature rollers that spread and travel on their own. This reproduction process is so effective the areas of infestation are expanding exponentially.

Why haven’t we heard about this? Angie rested her hand over her heart.

Lex yelled, I told you two days ago but you never listen to me.

Kid’s got a point. You never watch the news.

Amy joined the ruckus by screaming and slapping the table with her hand.

To add to the growing alarm, many in the field of theology are debating this event could be a prelude to the pestilence foretold in revelations for the rapture.

Max groaned. Morons. What sane person would fashion a divine order with such brutal intent? I mean really, plants devouring people—what bullshit.

Dad, you’re frightening the children.

He surveyed the faces of his two grandchildren. Sorry, kids.

Current attempts to curb the spread of these invaders have failed. No agent has proven effective to counter the transformation once a person is infected. Plus, Ground Defense Forces has been incapable of stopping the onslaught against our metro centers.

According to a spokesman from GDF, You can’t blow out vitals of an adversary with no organs. Our only means of defense has been old style flame throwers which indiscriminately destroy anything in their path, including humans. It’s a simple case of math. Their numbers are too large and ours too small.

Front line defenders have coined the name, Howlers, for this new species based on the sound emitted when they detect a mammal. Within roughly ten yards, they possess IR sensors sensitive to detect and triangulate on the thermal image of warm-blooded animals, which explains why they ignore reptiles and aquatic species.

A low pitch siren sounded outside the front of the house, and Angie jumped in her seat. Jesus. She stood, stepped to the counter and switched off the floating screen. That’s enough, Dad. Lex, the transport for school is here.

The boy launched from the table but Max blocked his path with one arm. No, son. You’re staying home today.

Oh, Dad. They’ll get this under control. They always do.

My God. Were you not listening to that report? He moved to the front door and motioned the half empty hovercraft to leave. Things are turning to shit out there. Our forces are not ready to counter such an extreme event. Maybe twenty years ago before our defensive assets and space resources where hammered into oblivion.

You’ve always been such an alarmist. She swung away from her father, finished the dishes and explained, Then you’ll have to watch the kids while I go to work.

You’re not going anywhere either.

I most certainty am.

Damn it. He pulled her from the sink, and plopped his daughter in the adjacent seat Sit down. They stared eye to eye for an instant. You’re in denial, sweetheart. That report did not scream ‘life is normal, march on’.

She shook her head and buried her face in both hands. I miss James so much. Without him, I’ve been terribly lost, and now all this.

I understand. That’s why you walk out of the room whenever Lex flips on the news. You’ve been living in a cocoon, but that has to stop right now. The kids and I need you to pull out of that cloud you’ve been in and confront this new threat head on.

She wiped her nose. I will. So what do we do?

We don’t stay here, that’s for sure.

Hey granpapa, what about that island where we fish?

He pinched his grandson’s chin. My thoughts exactly. It’s small, almost no animal life except a few birds. I don’t expect any infestation there. We can camp out, listen to the emergency channel, stay advised on how GDF efforts to control this invasion are preceding, and adjust accordingly. I see no recourse. If the worst comes to pass, we’ll take my old bush plane and be ready to bug out.

Worst how?

Even ten years ago before I retired, we had contingency plans that’d go into effect if the population were at threat. I think this justifies as such an event, least there’s a chance if things turn chaotic.

How can we help, Dad?

You and the kids pack up some clothes and any provisions we have on hand for the trip. Lex?

The boy stood to attention. Yes, sir.

I want you to transfer all that bottled water in the basement into the garage.

Roger that.

Max rummaged beneath the sink, removed a dozen whiskey bottles and a cardboard box before stuffing a dry patch of cloth inside.

Dad, I don’t get it. Why do we need liquor?

"I don’t have time to