Darryl and Clarrisa’s corpses swayed from the breeze as Rick read the letter John handed him. Their bodies cast long shadows over Rick and John. Sandra and the soldiers were in the next room. They’d seen the bodies but didn’t want to check out the room.
“Should we bury them?” John said.
“No,” said Rick. “It would take too long. They’ll have to hang here.”
John looked solemn. Since the invasion he’d managed to avoid much of the horrors. He didn’t see how bad things got. He’d heard, but he’d never seen it with his own eyes. Seeing it like this made him realize how depraved things had been outside the bunker, how lucky he’d been. The cold reality of the invasion was hard to comprehend in Starpeak.
They left the Morton’s house and checked a few more houses along the street. They had to be selective about what they found. They couldn’t carry everything with them. They didn’t have the room. Rick’s backpack was stuffed full of cans of beans, wires, and electrical tape.
As the sun set and the moon rose over the silhouette of the city, they set up camp inside a house. They were almost at the other side of the city. Tomorrow they’d be close to the cubes. Sandra said Bobby found them on the western side of the mountains, north east of where they were. Rick could see the mountains from his room’s window.
They all went to sleep and woke up to the sound of the wind blowing. Some clouds had rolled in over the mountains and cast the city in a dark grey. If it didn’t look like death and destruction before, it did now.
All they had to do now was make it through the city’s downtown core. Once they’d done that, it would only be a couple hours hike to the mountains.
The city core was much like the suburbs. Some building’s would be levelled, some would remain untouched. John was puzzled by the logic of the harvesters and AOJs. It confused him as to what they were trying to harvest from this destruction. The alien ships seemed to have a particular appetite. John took notes the whole way through. What were the aliens looking for? This was the type of research and data he’d been missing for these past few years.
One of the buildings that was still standing was a tall skyscraper. It wasn’t completely untouched, it had seen some action from the AOJs. It was perforated at points. Giant holes casted giant rays of light onto the streets below.
It wasn’t the alien destruction that Rick was interested in. He was interested in the evidence of a battle between two warring groups of humans. There were fragments of grenades on the ground, bullet shell casings and skeletons of dead combatants. He knew that the dead were from a human hand because of the shape the bodies were in. The bones were still mostly intact, and the markings of bullets could be seen over any material they were still wearing. Plasma bursts hadn’t killed them. Bullets, grenades, or human hands had. Sandra was just as intrigued in the human battle as Rick.
“What do you think this was?” Sandra asked, shielding Bobby’s eyes from the worst of it. The boy pushed away his mother’s hand.
“Most likely two large groups of survivors,” Rick said. “Fighting over supplies in the city, I guess.”
John stopped looking at the alien destruction on the skyscapers and turned to Rick. “Explains why we haven’t found much,” he said.
Rick nodded. They’d found nothing out here and it was starting to frustrate him. They’d have to find the cubes quick and start making their way back sooner than he’d planned to. Bobby would have to be oen hundred percent correct about the location.
“How much farther to the cubes?” Rick asked Sandra.
“It’s just beyond that mountain,” said Sandra, pointing to a small mountain five miles away. “We should be there by nightfall.”
It was at that point that Bobby ran from his mother’s grip. He’d spotted something of interest.
“Bobby, where are you going!” Sandra yelled.
The boy didn’t stop running. Rick and Sandra ran after him. Bobby ran up to a body which had been reduced to a skeleton on the ground. He picked up the jacket it had worn. “Look,” he said, calling to his mom.
Rick ran up to him and saw what the boy was pointing to. Sandra followed suit. As she saw it, her mouth dropped open.
“What it is?” said Rick.
“It’s the reason why we left this place,” Sandra said. “It’s the reason why didn’t turn back. That’s the crest of Quinton’s camp.”
Chapter 42
There was something unsettling about the forest. It made Felix more uncomfortable than the cities or suburbs. Maybe it’s because he grew up in suburban Chicago. Maybe it’s because he liked being around technology. He wasn’t sure.
Felix and Sharon hadn’t seen another human in weeks and the motherships that had littered the Texas landscape were far and few between in the great American plains. It was a nice change.
They’d been travelling for months from the Texas coast. They were close to Starpeak. They were almost there.
They’d stopped travelling for the night. They set up a small makeshift camp and rested by a small fire Felix made. Felix turned to Sharon. He wanted to talk, but she was sleeping. He didn’t want to wake her. The poor woman didn’t sleep well. She’d often wake up screaming. She was haunted by nightmares of torture and rape. She looked at peace now. But he knew that it would only be a matter of time before the terrors crept up on her again. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. He wasn’t a psychologist. She had severe PTSD. She needed meds and counselling.
He lied on the ground and looked up at the moon. Its light shined through the thick branches above. Out in the distance, he could hear the sounds of animals. It sounded like a squirrel was clawing at a tree, maybe it was a raccoon. Other than that, all he could hear was the wind, which was cold. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. But he couldn’t. His mind was racing. He had been consumed by the question about what was blocking his signal. He didn’t like not knowing things. They’d be at the radio tower tomorrow. Once he was there, he could figure it all out.
Sharon had proven herself to be a useful companion. She was older, and had been through hell, but she was tough. No one could have survived what she did without being tough. They hadn’t had too many run ins, but the few they did have proved to be challenging.
Before they left yacht, Felix made sure that Sharon was equipped. He had one extra weapon on his ship and it was a powerful S-Class shotgun. Like his prototype rifle, it was a military-grade weapon. It was illegal for civilians to own, but he was a trillionaire and any authorities who spotted him with it turned a blind eye. He didn’t have much ammo for it. Sharon looked pretty badass with the shotgun and she wasn’t shy to use it.
Feeling that time was of the essence, Felix decided to take the most direct route to Colorado. This meant going through the Dallas suburbs, which were crawling with motherships and hostile human groups. Felix hot wired a truck he’d found and drove to Dallas. It only took them thirty minutes to get to the outskirts of the city from the coast. But that’s where they ran into trouble.
They were travelling on the freeway and making their way into the city when they saw a sign that read: ‘Help!’ Against his better instincts, Felix pulled over. If someone needed help, he couldn’t ignore it. He knew it was stupid, he knew that it was most likely a trap, but if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. As soon as they pulled over, they were attacked.
Gunfire rained down on them from all directions, poking bullet holes through the truck’s cabin. As soon as the shots penetrated the body of the truck, Felix pressed his foot on the gas and started to drive away from the gunfire. He guided the truck into a nearby gas station and both he and Sharon jumped out. They both managed to avoid getting hit by any bullets. It was a miracle. As they got out of the truck, they ducked down low used the truck as cover. They waited for the attackers to make their way toward them.
Felix told Sharon to stay by the truck and told her to keep low. He’d have to do most the fighting. She was still weak and without his yacht�
�s sophisticated security system, he needed to be careful. Every bullet had to count.
He had Z-49 and a few grenades he picked up from the bodies of some of the men who’d attacked his yacht. With Sharon still behind the truck, Felix ran to a gas pump and stayed low. He hid behind the pump and waited for the attackers to make their presence known.
He could hear footsteps and some chatter.
“You think we got em?” one of the attackers said.
“For sure,” said another. “We lit that mother fucker up!”
Felix had the element of surprise on his side. He’d have to use it to his advantage. From the sounds of the attackers, he could discern four unique voices. If there was four of them, he’d be able to take them on. He checked the ammo on his rifle, he had eighteen shots left. He’d have at least four shots per attacker.
He looked beyond the pump. Across from his hiding position was a booth where the store clerk would stand. Once he got a lay of the land, he ducked back behind the pump.
All four attackers came into gas station at once. They saw the remains of the truck, which was still smoking, and walked slowly in. One of them yelled out, “Any survivors!” The others laughed.
“There’s no survivor’s here, Dwayne,” one of the attackers said.
“Yeah, they are dead!”
“Shut up,” said the apparent leader of the group. “If they’re alive they can hear us!”
The group quieted down. Felix and Sharon stayed quiet. Felix signalled to Sharon to keep her cool. She acknowledged his request. He could see that she was breathing heavily. If she had a panic attack or something, that would ruin their chances of survival. She needed to stay calm. Years of meditation and stress training had taught him how to handle situations like this. If he could survive hostile board rooms, he could survive fighting off some goons with guns in a gas station. He checked on which direction the attackers were going. They’d split up. Two of them were headed Sharon’s way, two of them his. Sharon was behind the truck, which was close to the booth. Two were headed toward the pumps. The only way he was going to survive this was going to be if he looked at it as if it were a videogame. He’d have to take some risks. He’d have to go against his instincts.
He watched the attackers approach the booth. They were careful. They were going to check on the truck. He could tell by the way they moved around the truck that this was something they did regularly. They probably trapped vehicles in like spiders all the time.
The two attackers that were checking out the pumps seemed distracted by something they found on the ground. Against his better judgement, he sprung up from his hiding place and ran to Sharon. None of the attackers saw him.
“Are you crazy?” Sharon said, as Felix fell beside her.
“A little. We need to be a bit aggressive in this situation.”
“What makes you say that?”
“They outnumber us and have the advantage,” said Felix. “If we act weak and defensive, that’s what they’ll expect. We need to play it up as if we’re the ones in control. It’s a strategy I used all the time in the boardroom.”
Sharon nodded.
“On the count of three,” he said.
“On the count of three what?” she asked.
“You’ll know.” Felix winked at her and then said, “One, two, three.” He then sprung around the right corner of the truck, aimed his rifle and took out one of the attackers with a shot to the head.
Sharon got the idea. She followed his actions, except she sprung out on the left side and fired her shotgun, blasting the other attacker at the truck back about ten feet.
As the attackers bodies flew through the air, the other two by the pumps took notice and ducked.
“Fuck!” one of them yelled.
“How many of them are there?” the other said.
Felix took this as an opportunity to throw off the attackers. “There are seven of us,” he yelled out. Sharon hit him as he said it. He knew he made a mistake. He could see through the truck’s window that the attackers were going to call his bluff. There was no way seven people could hide behind a truck that size. Typical Felix, he’d tried to oversell the product.
“Sure there are,” said one of the attackers.
“Fuck.”
“That was dumb,” said Sharon.
Felix began to doubt his overconfidence. He hadn’t felt this much in his life. He could hear the two attackers jump up from behind the pumps and run toward him. It would only be a matter of time before they found out that it was just him and the injured Sharon.
But that didn’t happen. Sharon wasn’t going to let that happen. Despite her injury, despite her weakness, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. The two attackers weren’t expecting her to jump up from behind the truck with a fully loaded, military-grade shotgun. They didn’t expect her to unleash pure terror on them. The look on both their faces when she fired round after round into their bodies was one of anguish. Both attackers had the look of people with their pants caught down. They learned their zealous nature got the best of them, just as it had almost got the best of Felix. Sharon didn’t expect herself to be so accurate with her shotgun blasts. Some act of luck or good fortune guided those bullets in the right direction. She’d rescued them both that day.
As he got up from behind the truck and wiped himself off, he thanked her. She was crying. He found that peculiar. Hadn’t she been the one to so aggressively save the day? He helped her up and gave her a hug. The ferocity with which she reciprocated his action made him realize just how cathartic this experience had been. Her aggressive nature, which had saved them, had been driven by a more primal instinct than a rational one. She was the victim for so long, that it must’ve felt good to finally be the one in control.
After they made sure that no more attackers were in the vicinity of the gas station, they decided to leave the truck and make the rest of their way to Colorado on foot. It was the better choice. It allowed them to keep a lower profile. And that’s how they’d been travelling for months.
As Felix lay by the fire on that cold Colorado night, he began to question if it was the new technology in her shotgun that made the bullets so accurate. Like his rifle, her shotgun had been developed with an anti-kickback technology. Although, the shotgun’s anti-kickback tech was not nearly as aggressive as his rifles. In any case, it had worked. He just didn’t like blaming anything on luck alone. His mind thought about it for a few more moments, but he quickly returned to thoughts of the radio tower and trying to discover what was blocking the signal.
He tried to close his eyes and get some sleep but couldn’t. The crackling of the camp fire did little to help. It only reminded him of the gunfire he’d heard that day in Dallas. He didn’t want to think about any of that. He just wanted to push forward. They were so close. He stayed like that for a couple hours.
When he was finally about to drift off, he awoke to Sharon’s hand on his chest. “What is it?” he asked.
“Gunfire,” she said.
Chapter 43
The bunker in Starpeak was designed to withstand a 75 megaton bomb. There were forty-floors that ran underground, and twenty that ran above. The twenty above ground were shielded by the mountain which the bunker was embedded within. It was the safest spot in the country. Had the president managed to make it out of Washington DC, this is where he would have been.
Tuck looked at the control room and smiled. He knew it. The years he’d spent reading about strange conspiracy theories written by ex-government officials weren’t such a waste. Parts of them had been true. There was a secret government installation in the rockies that was designed to be the last bastion of the US government. Sure, it wasn’t as glamorous as he’d imagined, but he was impressed.
“We’re going to need your help,” Ethan said.
Tuck scoffed. He looked Ethan up and down and spit on the floor. He didn’t mind treating Ethan like shit. This was the same asshole who’d tried to kick out all the camp members months ago
. He didn’t respect Ethan and he wanted Ethan to know it.
“Don’t give me that kind of look. You’re the reason we’re in this mess. If it wasn’t for you and the rest of the camp members, no one out in the forest would know we exist. You just happened to blow up the door that kept us hidden. Now every group of hostiles out in these woods knows where we are. We are sitting ducks out here.”
Ethan was right about that. The bunker had been attacked regularly since the camp members arrived. With the rocky facade blown apart by Dirk’s dynamite, it wasn’t easy for it to remain hidden. It was only a matter of time before one of those hostile groups managed to breakthrough.
“So what do you want us to do?” said Tuck.
“I want you to take all your able bodied people and head down to the entrance way and fight off whomever is attacking. This is your mess. Clean it up!”
This was exactly the kind of shit Rick had warned Tuck about. Before he left, Rick told Tuck to be wary of Ethan. Tuck could see why. Ethan wasn’t a straight shooter. He was a man who was driven by ego and job advancement. He didn’t give a rats ass about the man standing next to him. That said, Tuck questioned his own quick judgement. He’d seen the bodies from the SpaceForce guards who’d been defending the entrance way. Ethan wasn’t joking around. The bunker was under attack. But was he really being serious asking for help for the camp? Or was this some attempt to get rid of the camp members? Tuck didn’t want to respond to Ethan’s demand without consulting the rest of the camp. He was old, wounded, and didn’t understand why Rick left him in charge. Rick didn’t want to tell him that it was because of his indecisiveness. It his very reluctance to speak on behalf of the camp that made him the perfect man to be in control.
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