Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. Read Online Free PDF

rising.”
    “I wonder how long they survived?” said Tomlinson.
    “Almost five months,” said Stratton, standing just behind Steven on the threshold of the doorway.
    “How do you know that?” asked Tomlinson.
    Stratton nodded toward the wall on his left. Less than two meters away, hanging on the wall beneath a few centimeters of clear ice was a large digital calendar. “They activated the pause button, marking the date for whoever found them. Bottom-line, they’ve been dead more than fourteen years,” said Stratton.
    A guttural, rolling clap of thunder vibrated the ground beneath their feet. The webs sang in response, resonating like a thousand soft wind chimes.
    Steven wondered if the spiders were aware of the danger the storm posed to them, or if they even cared.
    Instinctively, the team standing outside moved closer to the doorway, tightening their ranks.
    “Stratt—take Moore, Cole, and Martinez outside and maintain an eighty-meter perimeter around the doorway. Keep the courtyard clear for Robbie to pick us up later. If the spiders attack, throw the frying pan at them if you need to, but don’t let them close up ranks.”
    “Aye, sir. Come on, grunts. You heard the man.” The four of them fanned out, taking up defensive positions in the square.
    “I don’t understand it, sir,” said Tomlinson. “We’re standing at the precise coordinates, yet the readouts say the source of the transmission is still fifty-nine meters away.”
    Since the moment Steven entered the room, he had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. It was a feeling he had experienced once before when tracking a marauding mountain lion on his parents’ ranch as a teenager in Montana. Without thought, his hand went toward the scar on his left shoulder where the big cat had wounded him long ago. Now, like then, he instinctively held his breath, his heart speeding in expectation of a sudden confrontation. He studied the depths of the room, the ceiling, the corners—and that is when he saw it. In the upper, far right corner of the room, the glass lens of a small frost covered camera zoomed in on him.
    Taking a step toward it, the frost crunching beneath his feet, a yellow emergency light twinkled to life above him. He glanced upwards at the ice-laden light that was straining to be brighter—but lacking the power to do so—and then back at the camera.
    Without warning, the steel security door behind them slammed shut. The loud clang made them all jump and they spun in reaction. Fanning their guns around the room, they stood at the ready, searching for an unseen intruder. The scanners revealed nothing, besides their own team and the two frozen corpses slumped against the wall.
    Hitch tried the handle and found that it was locked. The latch to unlock it spun uselessly. “Why do I suddenly feel like a trapped mouse?”
    “Take it easy, everyone. No twitchy fingers,” said Steven.
    “Admiral, did you close the door?” asked Stratt from outside over his comm.
    “No! It closed by itself. Apparently, it’s locked internally. Is everything all right outside?”
    “So far,” said Stratt, uncharacteristically sounding a bit on edge.
    “Robbie, I’ve got the feeling we are going to be here longer than expected. With the storm closing in, before things get too rough, I want you to pick up Stratton’s team. We can ride it out in here if we need to.”
    “Aye, aye, sir. Will do.”
    “Sir, you’ll want to see this. The man is holding something. It started to glow just as the door closed,” said Tomlinson.
    “Stratt. Watch your back.”
    “Aye, sir. We are.”
    Tomlinson moved away from the frozen bodies to make room for Steven. Kneeling, Steven swiped the snow away to find that the man was holding an oblong box. Recognizing it as a security box used for transporting precious documents, he pried the man’s frozen fingers away. Taking it, he set it upon his knee. Its luminous, red security scan latch was lit and waiting to be