He strode out of the hangar with his pistol in one hand and his rifle in the other. The first shots sent two of the Spiders spinning into the night. Another three advanced, and Overton squeezed the triggers again. Two heads and a torso exploded, showering him in blue goo.

High-pitched screams ripped through the night, but he pushed forward unfazed. He fired his rifle at another two monsters still circling the Humvee and turned to finish off three more advancing toward him.

The click of a dry magazine sounded, somehow louder to Overton’s ears than the horrifying screams. He tossed the rifle aside and took one knee, aiming the pistol at the remaining two Spiders. Instead of advancing, they circled him, their claws scraping the ground.

Scratch. Scrape. Scratch. Scrape.

He closed an eye and aimed, but resisted the urge. Why weren’t they attacking? Was there something they knew that he didn’t? Something he couldn’t see? It was almost like the fuckers were taunting him.

“Fuck it,” he said and squeezed the trigger. The two bullets whizzed out of the chamber, down the barrel, and into the heads of both Spiders.

Pop.

They exploded like water balloons, their blue blood fountaining into the air. Overton surveyed the gruesome scene. Several of the creatures’ limbs twitched on the ground, their claws still scraping the ground harmlessly.

Scratch. Scrape. Scratch. Scrape.

He fired off the remaining rounds in his pistol just to silence them, then glanced over his shoulder at the hangar to gauge the distance he’d have to haul the damned RVM. The spiked, humanoid head of a Sentinel stared back at him, its reptilian eyes blinking rapidly.

“You have to be shitting me!”

He scrambled to reload his weapon as the monster slithered forward with its massive tail dragging across the concrete. The thing grabbed him before he had time to retrieve a single bullet. It wrapped one arm around Overton and heaved him into the air, bringing him within inches of its face.

“You are one ugly bastard,” he muttered, preparing for the same fate as Finley. He refused to close his eyes. Instead he squinted, studying the alien.

It looked back at him quizzically, tilting its head to one side like it was trying to comprehend something beyond its intelligence. Overton was reminded of a dog he’d had when he was a kid.

That’s when it hit him. The Spiders, the Worms, and the Sentinels—they weren’t intelligent creatures. There was no way these things had traveled trillions of miles to pillage Earth of its natural resources.

Luke had been right. These creatures were nothing more than foot soldiers in an army controlled by a life-form he hadn’t yet met. Overton let out a muffled laugh; he was about to be liquefied by the alien equivalent of a Rottweiler. He faced his fate like a Marine—with his eyes open.

Crack, crack.