The hum of the motor beneath their boots vibrated. Beau sat at the center of the makeshift command station bolted to the dashboard of the 12V Jeep as they rolled forward down another corridor. They were close to the atrium. He flexed his hands over the tablet interface that displayed their route.

  Around him gathered the senior leadership team of Dome 101. Tessa, pressed close, sat with her rifle across her lap but her eyes scanned the horizon. Dr. Lorne sat in her ichor-smeared lab coat, face drawn to the screen which displayed their vehicle’s energy levels and expected range. Chief Mahoney sat hunched over, eyes scanning their surroundings with relentless paranoia. Mayor Carnie stared ahead through the reinforced clearshield, jaw clenched, and arms crossed.

  Behind them, the 12V Escalade followed them like a mobile fortress. Its tires chewed through tile and dust with patient power. Both vehicles were fully loaded with five thousand tinylings each, all bundled beside each other and teeming with fear and excitement.

  Carnie broke the silence first, his voice dry and brittle. “Where do we go if we make it out of here? What’s our final destination?”

  “I’m figuring that out,” Beau responded.

  “We lost our dome,” Mayor Carnie said. “We lost our first home. The world out there is not scaled for us. One squirrel could leap into this jeep and end us all.”

  Dr. Lorne exhaled hard through her nose. “Everything out there is oversized, alien, and unpredictable. But don’t think we can’t defend ourselves.”

  “Yeah, Carnie, relax,” Tessa said.

  “I can’t help but admit I feel the anxiety,” Mahoney muttered.

  Beau magnified the map on the touch screen. He dragged his finger toward a sloping green ridge on the edge of the known area. “We’re not staying on wheels forever.”

  “What do you suggest?” Carnie asked.

  “See that slope?” Beau tapped on the screen. “That’s a house on the north ridge. It’s just above the Crystal Bridges Trail. It has elevation. That gives us security. It’s surrounded by wooded terrain and native flora. It’s close to fresh water. There’s land to grow and space to build. There’s stone to quarry if we need it. And there’s access to the museum and the downtown area for resources.”

  “A real human house?” Dr. Lorne raised an eyebrow. “The possibility for resources is enormous…I could manufacture a new lab. And a new plastic forge.”

  Beau nodded. “I’m not looking for something cozy. I’m looking for something defensible. Somewhere we can hold out long enough to plan the next chapter for the Black Birds.”

  Tessa leaned toward the screen, her expression tight. “I think it could work.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  There was a long pause and the rumble of tires. They heard the distant pop of gunfire toward the tail end of the Jeep. The scent of mantid carapace hung in the air.

  “Let’s take a vote to confirm it,” Carnie said finally.

  There were no ballots, no ceremony, only a tally taken with pen and paper.

  “Unanimous,” Carnie murmured. “The house on the hill it is. Lead the way, Commander Danning.”

  A jolt shook through the Jeep as they turned the final corner and drove down the mantid corridor. It was transformed into a tunnel rife with chaos. There were blackened walls and blood smeared across the tiles. Ants and beetles still clashed on the floor beneath them in brutal droves, pincers locked, mandibles shattered, wings torn free. It’s like they never stopped fighting. They must have received reinforcements, because there were the remains of thousands of dead bugs all over the place. Roaches rolled in clusters on hordes of ant battalions. Daddy longlegs stalked above them all, only to be taken down by a swarming ant legion. It was a full-scale war of the species.

  And they drove straight through it.

  “Hold on,” Beau said, tightening the straps on his harness. “No brakes, Rick.”

  “Full speed ahead,” Rick responded.

  The Jeep roared across the fray. Tires smashed legions of ants in their perfect square formations. That made the ants fight even harder. Some climbed onto the tires or jumped onto the sides of their vehicle only to be met with a barrage of firepower from the posted militia guards.

  From above came a hiss—and there he was.

  General Karakis.

  He dove down, blade-arms flashing. A soldier on the Escalade’s roof behind them screamed as Karakis tore him in half and vanished again, a phantom who fled up to the rafters, out of sight and out of range.

  Beau raised his rifle up and fired toward the shadows. “Stay together—stay moving!”

  Tessa was grim-faced, focused with every kill.

  “Beau—look!”

  The corridor was ending. Ahead, the set of glass doors leading into the backyard shined like a beacon of no return.

  Light poured through them. It wasn’t artificial light, nor the sterile glow of the dome LEDs. It was sunlight, raw, golden, warm, and real.

  The Jeep passed through the opened doors. At first, Beau realized there wasn’t enough room for their Jeep to fit. But as Rick continued to power through, the door opened inch by inch until finally they screeched through. They drove out of the house and into the sprawling backyard, across a limestone tile path beneath them stretched like a ribbon through an overgrown forest. Dandelions stood like trees. Stalks of clover and ivy hung in thick jungle arcs overhead. A garden statue of a hunched old man loomed to their left, the height of a mountain. Ahead lay the wrought-iron gate—crumpled and tossed aside by some ancient storm.

  Beyond the gate, the exit was clear.

  Tessa’s breath caught. “Oh my God.”

  The Escalade rolled behind them. Civilians craned their necks to see. Some shielded their eyes. Some wept openly. Others sat stunned in silence.

  Beau squinted. “There it is. See it?”

  An asphalt road. The path toward a new home.