The Caliphate Invasion

by Michael Beals

  Someone from the circle leaned forward. “Isn’t expanding our militia the very definition of maintaining order?”

  “With as many soldiers as you need, it’s really an economic question.” Greene waved his hands at the frantic construction around them.

  “You’re not the only one’s rebuilding. Look, I know how important this is. I fought tooth and nail to build our militia up before anyone had ever heard of Heinrich or the End Timers, but we don’t have infinite resources. Where do we get these fighters from? Should we conscript the farmers and starve to death later? Maybe the laborers building wind turbines to give us power so we don’t freeze in winter? Perhaps the work crews digging wells and viaducts for water?”

  He shook his head like a mad dog. “I’m sorry. If the town were under direct attack, sure, I could get plenty of volunteers, but otherwise we’re tapped out.”

  Rand nodded and jotted a note on her ever-handy clipboard. “Any ideas, Peter?”

  “You know where I stand. Allying with High Springs was a good start, but now it’s time to go pro. Let’s turn this thing into a regional coalition.”

  Sheriff Greene perked up, but Rand and most of her council frowned. “We’ve been over that. How would this confederacy of yours be any different than the other militias trying to dominate the area? No, our best defense is to stay neutral and off the radar. We need a military force strong enough to deter, but not powerful enough to be threatening. That’s the secret to survival.”

  Dixon leapt out of his chair, but reined in the urge to kick it across the patio. “Can’t you look past simple survival? There’s no point in just surviving if you can’t live! Isn’t this commune all about changing the world? So how about we step up! Let’s stop letting a bunch of religious extremists and psychopathic murderers write history.”

  Rand cut her eyes at the wavering councilmembers. “You make it sound like we have a choice. Even if we could get a few more towns to agree to collective defense, that’s just not enough. Between themselves, the Warriors and the DHS have more than a hundred thousand people in their territory. Not even Napoleon could compete with numbers like that.”

  Rand trumped over to a freestanding chalkboard covered by a large map of north Florida.

  “Don’t you know how to read this? We have these nutjob Warriors of Christ controlling Columbia County to the north and Heinrich and his bloodthirsty fascists dominating Alachua County to the southeast. Now look at us! We’re just a pair of flies buzzing next to these two great powers. If we get involved, how long would it take for either of them to brush us aside? Hours, I bet.”

  Dixon smacked his hand on the map. His palm didn’t even cover half of the unincorporated rural areas to the west. “Sure, there’s not a single township out here that could fight off either of these regional powerhouses. However, if you meld us together into one grand coalition…”

  He whipped out a marker and drew a double pincer directly on the map. His fantasy nation swallowed up dozens of independent towns, hundreds of isolated villages and thousands of proud homesteads and farms. He kept tracing the border until both hostile population centers in Lake City and Gainesville were engulfed from all sides.

  “Then you have a true superpower. Now that’s the way to survive with style.”

  Dixon tried not to grin at the lust in Rand’s eyes as she ran her hand over her potential republic. “You make it sound so simple, but these people aren’t on the front lines like we are. There’s no pressure for them to join up.”

  Sheriff Greene coughed and leaned back in his folding chair. “What about Fort White and Trenton? They’ve been dropping hints about allying… hmm. No, let’s think bigger. I used to be close with the sheriff down in Chiefland. If we can get him and his city on board, then Gilchrist County would fall in line. Things should snowball from there. You know, this could be doable.”

  Rand studied the crowd. She didn’t even risk an embarrassing vote. Instead, she stepped close to Dixon. “You realize this confederacy is going to take time to build, right? We’re going to have to negotiate with every little community around, maybe even act as peacekeepers to put down current feuds. It’s going to be a while before we see any results and can send your militia reinforcements.”

  Dixon squared his shoulders. “No problem. We won’t be any worse off than we are now, but at least we’ll have a future to look forward too.”

  “Want to bet? The moment I send out emissaries, we’re no longer an annoyance to them.” Rand jerked her thumb east. In the sudden silence, the faint, distant booms echoed off the gazebo’s conical roof.

  “This will make us a threat to both sides. We’ll be playing their game, and they’re about ten turns ahead of us.”

  Masjid al-Haram Mosque

  Mecca, Saudi Arabia

  “No matter what we do, we’ll need a diversion. We need to raise hell inside here if the rest of us are going to escape.” Kat plucked away at her tray of Kabsa. Across from her, Sakura finished her plate and leaned against a column. She didn’t bother whispering, since none of the hundred other women in earshot spoke English anyway.

  “I can’t imagine anything would really disturb the guards. On my first night here, some women ganged up on a guard as he came through the dormitories picking victims for the mothership. The gals even managed to get his weapon, but it didn’t do them any good. Those ISIS bastards just opened fire and slaughtered every woman in sight, sanitized the entire wing, without breaking a sweat.”

  Kat jerked her thumb at the courtyard below them. The severed heads from her first day still rested on spits around the Kaaba, but that didn’t faze the hundreds of pilgrims circling the shrine and chanting.

  “We need to aim bigger. I’m thinking something that’ll work the guards up into a real frenzy. Get all of them out here.”

  A loudspeaker blared from the nearest minaret. Sakura gaped at Kat as a thousand women around them laid down mats.

  “You can’t mean…” The speakers droned on and chanted even louder. Kat just grinned as the other women knelt and prayed to the black cube in the center of the giant mosque.

  “Yeah, let’s see about whipping up a few Molotov Cocktails. I’d like to get the guards’ panties in a bunch for a change.”

  Sakura shivered and leaned close.

  “You should shut up about this right now or the guards will be the least of our worries. If we so much as touch that thing, we’ll never make it out of the courtyard alive. In case you haven’t noticed, what with the end of the world and all, some people are pretty damn religious nowadays. They’ll flay us alive.”

  Kat left her tray on the ledge and snagged Sakura’s arm. “While everyone’s busy, let’s take a little stroll and reconnoiter the target, shall we?”

  Sakura followed her down the stairs and into the courtyard, but sputtered the whole way. “Kat, this is insane. You need to get some sleep. Staying up all night and prowling the camp’s perimeter is getting to you if you think this is clever.”

  Kat grunted. Sakura was half-right. She’d barely slept four hours in the last 48, but too much went down at night for her to sleep. The slave camp was much larger than the 88-acre Masjid al-Haram mosque. As near as she could tell, the boundary of their prison extended in a rough hexagon for at least five city blocks around the holy site.

  The ISIS guards had erected a crude and flimsy fence around the prison, but it served as little more than a psychological barrier. The Jihadi guards didn’t even bother patrolling the line. No, the real perimeter lay just beyond the fence: three hundred yards of open terrain. The original definition of “deadline.”

  Entire neighborhoods had been leveled to provide clear lanes of fire for six drones, arranged around the camp in a star pattern layout. They sat at each point of the star and endlessly monitored their firing lanes. The robots never slept, were never distracted… and never missed. Their grim, chain-sawing guns ripped through the night every few hours, every single night.

  “I’m good, Sakura. Fo
r what it’s worth, I’m as sane as anyone else is here. We won’t be torching the cube ourselves. I’m sure we can find some Muslim ladies willing to chance hell if they can get out of this one.”

  Sakura shuffled between the women throwing their arms up and down in their salat prayers. She hugged herself as they drew ever closer to the black shrine.

  “Okay, assuming we can find someone as crazy as you to help and somehow break through the perimeter, then what? How do we keep the aliens from finding us?”

  Kat threw an arm around her. “That’s the fun part. We’ll meet up with the insurgents already hiding in the ruins. Maybe get some payback too.”

  “Wait, what insurgents? I heard ISIS keeps some men around as slaves, that’s where the food comes from, but guerrillas? Come on. That’s just a fantasy the gals tell themselves. I’ve been here since day one. Trust me, there are no knights in shining armor coming to the rescue.”

  “You didn’t hear that big shootout last night?”

  Sakura grimaced. “Of course, but I’ve long since learned to stay out of the way and mind my own business.”

  “Honey, killing is our business, if you want to get out of here. I was up in one of the minarets, trying to get a better view of the drone sentries in action. Shortly after midnight, a large gang of armed men stalked out of the city center and attacked the most northern drone. Sure, they were outmatched and slaughtered to the last man in just seconds, but their sacrifice wasn’t wasted. Another team of twenty or so insurgents took advantage of the situation and penetrated the perimeter farther south.”

  “Really? How many women managed to escape?”

  Kat ground her teeth. “Well, none, but the theory’s sound. A pair of flying drones swooped in and plastered everything within a quarter mile radius. They killed hundreds of prisoners rather than risk a few dozen women escaping. Even destroyed their own damaged sentry drone in the process. Which didn’t seem to be a problem, since a new robot replaced the lost one in seconds.”

  Sakura shook her head. “Yeah, but lost prisoners mean nothing to these alien bastards. Their raiding parties drop off a new shipload of terrified women every hour. So why are you telling me this? Trying to drive me to suicide?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m pointing out that we’re not alone, which is half the battle. If we can recruit some sacrificial lambs to attack the Kaaba, I’ve got the rest figured out—”

  The moment prayer time ended, the Muslim crowd focused their full attention on them. With a slight rustle of cotton, two dozen angry women swarmed around Kat and Sakura, blocking their way.

  A poltergeist in a pitch-black, head-to-toe burqa and niqab face-wrap glided up to Kat.

  Kat smiled and touched two fingers to her chest, mouth and then brow, doing her best to simulate a formal Arabic greeting. “As-salāmu ʿalayki.”

  The newcomer did not reciprocate, but at least she spoke English. “You should not be here.”

  Kat grinned at the woman’s eye slit. Even from inches away, she couldn’t make out a single eyelash through the veil.

  “Tell me about it. I don’t suppose you know a way out? I’m Master Sergeant… uh, right. I’m Kat. From America. Where are you from?”

  Kat stuck her hand out. The black ghost in front of her kept her arms to her side. Raw, undulated hatred radiated out from her veiled eye slit. Kat couldn’t see a weapon anywhere, but the metallic slide of scabbards being unsheathed rang the air around her.

  “You are a nonbeliever! Heathens are forbidden inside Mecca. This is a crime. This is a sin!”

  Sakura grabbed Kat’s right arm, hiding Kat’s K-bar behind her own back. “A million apologies. We did not know any better. We’re leaving right now. Peace be with you.”

  The petite gal shoved Kat away with surprising strength. “Don’t mess with her. That crazy bitch runs the largest gang of local survivors. She’s just as ruthless as the guards.”

  “Interesting. Maybe we should have a cup of tea with her later.”

  Sakura kept prodding Kat along. “Let’s just get back to the mall concourse and hang out with the other heathens.”

  ***

  “How do the drones tell the guards apart from the women?” Kat kicked her feet up on the mall’s railing and studied a pair of ISIS fighters joking about something in the distance. A hundred yards farther, an alien drone spun in slow circles. Kat never took her eyes off them as she ran her K-bar across a whetstone.

  Beside her at the table, Sakura held her hands until they stopped quivering. Only then did she risk raising her teacup. “You mean besides the fact that they’re the only males around? How about the guns they carry? Big red flag.”

  “Nah, that can’t be enough. Many of the guards love those white man dresses and some don’t even bother carrying weapons. If you think about it, the one thing every ISIS member always has on, no matter what, are those tiny headsets.”

  “What’s your point? So they have radios.”

  “I guarantee you those are more than just a radio set. It must be some type of friend or foe beacon. Like a miniaturized version of what we put on aircraft.”

  “Still doesn’t do us any good. You think we can swipe some and just walk right past the robots? If it is a beacon, doesn’t that cut both ways? As long as you have it on, they can track you, and the second you take it off the bots will cut you apart. What’s the point?”

  Kat flipped her blade over and rested the side gently against a fingernail. The knife sunk in without needing any force. She tucked the blade away and squeezed Sakura’s hand.

  “The robots can’t stop us if we take them out first. It’s time to quit fooling around. How many girls can you rely on to make a move tomorrow morning? Most importantly, I’ll need at least six tough fighters with fast reflexes that aren’t worried about making it out of here alive. Anyone you know who might fit the bill?”

  Sakura gazed up, hopeful tears clouding her eyes. “Are you sure? Ah… I heard about a group of female police officers a few wings over, but there are plenty of gals willing to fight right here. If you really have a plan, then give me an hour and I’ll get you an army.”

  “Excellent… ah, shit.” One of the alien dropships whooshed over the nearby Landing Zone. Its back ramp dropped, but only bearded ISIS fighters stormed out. They broke into little groups and began rustling up women. One band burst into the mall and came their way.

  “Let’s go. We might not have an hour.”

  Kat and Sakura instinctively turned back down the mall, along with a hundred other women, to get out of sight. Sakura ran ahead and reached for a side door.

  “Here’s the quickest way back to our wing—”

  The door swung open and smashed her in the nose. A pair of guards sauntered out. Alien railguns dangled at their sides, but they each cracked old-fashioned whips over their heads. The men barked simple commands in a dozen languages before getting around to English.

  “Line up. No harm, if you cooperate. Run and you die.”

  Several more guards filled the concourse. Within moments, they had the women corralled in two lines. A man started at the head of each and waved a wand over the crotch of each female. Most of the time the machine blinked red and the guard pushed the girl away. Each ran off in relieved tears rather than stand around and push their luck.

  Next to Kat, Sakura seemed unnaturally calm. Kat nudged her. “How’s it that you’ve been here since the beginning, but never got called up?”

  “I wasn’t caught completely empty-handed. I managed to hide a stash of pills before they captured me.”

  “What pills?”

  A militant stepped up to Sakura and wanded her quickly.

  “What do you think they really want here, Kat? They’ve destroyed the world and now they’re going to repopulate it. Sorry I didn’t have enough to share.”

  Sakura disappeared as soon as she was cleared.

  Kat barred her teeth behind her burqa mask as the smelly man got right in her face. Exactly how long had it
been since her last period?

  “Ah, shit.”

  The wand’s light blinked green.

  A second guard grabbed her wrist and dragged her towards the ship. She was hustled into a smaller crowd of whimpering young women. One tried to break and run, but a whip slashed across her back. The ISIS straw boss smashed both of the woman’s kneecaps with the butt of his rifle. He forced two other women to carry the screaming victim.

  “The masters aren’t interested in your legs. Anyone tries anything else, and I’ll break everyone’s knees!”

  The guy’s British accent gave Kat an idea. She shrugged off her head covering, letting her blonde hair cascade down. She dug deep and tried to force some awe into her voice.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You know, if I have to get impregnated, I want it to be from a real man.” Kat took advantage of his gawking and stepped close to him. She pressed her hand up against his chest and massaged lower.

  “Not from your cowardly masters. How’d you like to slip one over on them? What do you say we slide off into one of these side rooms and have some fun?”

  The guard wavered as her hand found his buckle, but he soon recovered. “You have no idea what you’re suggesting. Get your stupid ass on board…” Kat looked past him and winked at Sakura.

  The rapists were far from sex-starved, but the novelty of witnessing a female willingly offer herself to one of them was quite a show. Half a dozen of the ISIS fighters had crowded around to leer.

  All had their backs turned to the mob of unarmed women.

  Sakura shrieked. “She’s an American soldier and she’s got a plan to escape!”

  With one insane, forlorn call of hope, hundreds of women surged forward. Kat didn’t skip a beat. She slammed her blade, easily concealed in her burqa, right into the British guy’s nutsack. She snagged his rifle as he collapsed and stomped on his windpipe. Kat spun around to finish off his buddies, but the fight was already over.