‘Kill Everything That Moves’ Part 17

The helicopter blades thrummed as we lifted off

Nis 6, 2025

THE BONDING
The dim glow of Newlife’s emergency lights cast long shadows as I sat with Avva and Eva. The child’s laughter—a fragile sound in this metal tomb—echoed off the walls as I made silly faces.

Avva’s fingers trembled around her coffee cup. “She hasn’t laughed like that since… before.”

I knew what she meant. Before the sky turned black. Before her husband dissolved screaming in the first acid rain. Before we became rats in this underground maze.

When she suddenly hugged me, her warmth was a shock—like sunlight remembered through prison bars.

“We’ll get through this,” I whispered, unsure if I believed it.

Eva tugged my sleeve. “The bad song is louder tonight.”

THE BRIEFING
Dawn came with klaxons.

The assembly hall was packed. On the hologram, a blinking dot marked a military bunker 200 miles northeast—our best hope for answers.

Professor Danny’s hands danced across the display. “The alien DNA rewrites terrestrial biology at the cellular level. But we’ve found a weakness—their control nodes cluster in the brainstem. Destroy that, and the host dies permanently.”

She tapped a key. The image zoomed in on Eluzacid’s molecular structure—a swirling double helix that mirrored Eva’s drawings on the walls.

“As for the ‘ascension’ phenomenon…” Danny hesitated. “We believe they’re harvesting our quantum signatures—the patterns that make us us.* For what purpose, I cannot—”*

A shriek cut her off.

The nun, Sister Miriam, pointed at Eva. The child’s eyes had gone fully black, her tiny fingers carving equations into steel.

The same equations now pulsing on Danny’s screen.

THE ARMORY
The weapon John handed me weighed heavy with grim purpose. “Neural disruptor rounds. Hits the brainstem like a sledgehammer to a computer chip.”

Around us, the team suited up in composite armor—aluminum for reflectivity, iron for density. Jani tested her shock gauntlets nervously.

“Remember,” John barked. “If you see black veins or hear clicking, shoot first.* If the acid rain starts,* run.* And if you see anything…* unnatural…”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.

THE DEPARTURE
Avva’s goodbye nearly broke me. The way she clutched Eva—like the child might dissolve too—then turned those fierce green eyes on me.

“You come back.* Both of you.”*

The helicopter’s roar drowned my reply. As we lifted into the poisoned sky, Ocean tapped my arm.

“Look.”

Through the dust clouds, the ship’s underbelly throbbed like a diseased heart. And beneath it—

Tendrils.

Thick as skyscrapers, plunging into the earth.

“It’s not just harvesting,” Ocean realized. “It’s rooting.”