Earthfall (Book 2): Earthfall 2 [The Mission Continues]

by Knight, Stephen

  “Things cool over there, Big Sarge?” he asked finally.

  Mulligan didn’t turn to him. “Yes. Why?”

  “Just asking.”

  “You’re always just asking. Trust me here, Captain. If I was going to snap my cap and go off the deep end, it would’ve happened years ago.”

  Andrews snorted. “I know. Just checking in.”

  “Thank you, sir, but please ... stop that shit. It bothers the hell out of me.”

  “As much as Lee calling you Sam?”

  Mulligan let out a heavy sigh. “That crowning indignity would be hard to top.”

  Andrews laughed, then sobered a bit when he caught sight of several corpses lying in the lee of a building. Their clothes were tattered, but still recognizable. Jeans, coats, boots, a flannel shirt here, a camo jacket there. They were clustered together, and as the rig passed, Andrews saw two were adults, the other two were much smaller. Children. A family, and they’d died holding onto each other.

  Holy fuck.

  “Eyes forward, sir,” Mulligan said.

  “Hooah.” Andrews returned to his job, which was driving the SCEV. After a moment, he said, “Listen, what are your thoughts on this? When we meet these folks, what’s your preferred plan of attack?”

  “You mean procedurally, or personally?”

  “Personally.”

  “Been thinking about that. I say don’t rush it. Might be best to just observe for a while and see if we can figure out who it is we might wind up dealing with. In fact, we might want to even drop back after making our initial recon without actually contacting them.”

  Andrews frowned. “Seriously?”

  Mulligan stirred in his seat slightly. “Seriously. I mean to say, it’s a consideration. We could verify their existence, then leave them be. Wait to rendezvous with Five when they get up here, then go in as a team. Personally, I’d like the backup. And if there’s any shooting, I’d prefer Slattery takes the heat, not me.”

  Andrews snorted again. “Come on, Mulligan.”

  “All right, just kidding about Slattery, though he is a slacker. But I’m definitely serious about hanging out and watching for a bit before we establish contact. However ... if it comes to that, you and I should be the ones who handle the encounter. Eklund’s too smart to risk right now, and Winters is too young. Not enough experience.”

  “We can hear you, you know,” Leona said from the second compartment.

  “I’m not giving out state secrets here,” Mulligan said. “The captain asked a cogent question. We’re undermanned, and the usual plan is the rig commander and an SME, usually the team medic, initiate contact. Since we don’t have a medic assigned and you’re fulfilling that role as well, Lieutenant, I’m the logical choice to accompany the captain on account both commander and XO can’t disembark at the same time.”

  “We probably have some time to discuss this further,” Leona said, but from her cool tone Andrews could tell she didn’t like what the incubating contact plan was.

  “We will,” Andrews said. “First things first. Let’s verify we’ve found them, then we’ll decide on what to do.”

  “Sir, I have a question,” KC said.

  “What’s that, Kace?”

  “What if they come to us?” she asked. “I mean, it is possible they might actually be happy to see us, right?”

  “Fair point,” Andrews said, “and it sure is possible. After a decade or so scrounging off whatever they can find in the area, they might be looking forward to a touch of advanced civilization again. Without resorting to violence,” he threw in, glancing over at Mulligan.

  Mulligan raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, cease fire. I’m hoping that’s exactly how they behave. It would be a bit of a refreshing change of pace.”

  Andrews shot Mulligan a thumbs-up. “So, KC, to answer your question. If they approach us in a non-hostile fashion, we’ll receive them the same way. No one will be allowed on the rig, but the sergeant major and I will go out to them and see what they have to say.”

  “I thought we were going to discuss that part a bit further,” Leona said.

  “We will, but that doesn’t mean the decision hasn’t already been made,” Andrews said, keeping his tone as light as possible. “Procedurally, the commander is supposed to lead the engagement, and I can’t have both you and I out of the rig at the same time. Mulligan’s right about that.”

  “Mulligan has more experience than both of us put together,” Leona said. “Let him stay behind. He can operate the rig single-pilot forever and a day.”

  “Subtext: ‘Yeah, don’t let the old fucker have any fun’ is what she’s getting at,” Mulligan said.

  Andrews held up his right hand. “Okay, guys. Baby steps, all right?”

  The decrepit town of Sisters fell behind them as the SCEV bore to the right and followed the two-lane highway to the north and west. It pushed through the remains of a barrier that had been erected on the settlement’s northwestern side. If it had been designed to hold back anything substantial, it had certainly failed. More likely, whomever had attacked the town had destroyed it on the way out. It did not appear the attackers had stayed, but had simply raided and rolled out. The road beyond was fairly clear, save for where old, dead pine trees had fallen across it. Many of those rotted husks had already been crushed beneath vehicular traffic, and those which hadn’t didn’t cause the SCEV to slow even one iota. Andrews felt the pressure of excitement beginning to build in his chest, and he pushed the control column forward a bit more. The rig accelerated up to forty miles per hour. Mulligan glanced over at him, but said nothing.

  He feels it too.

  As the rig roared down the desolate highway, droplets of water spattered against the diamond-matrix view ports. First it was just a few, then a dozen. Then it was full-on rain, hammering the rig with a vengeance. It came down in heavy sheets that were blown by the wind. An actual storm had coalesced seemingly right overhead. Andrews heard the rain pouring across the top of the vehicle. The tires were already splashing through quickly forming puddles.

  Mulligan switched on the wipers, and they went to work immediately, slapping back and forth. “Well, at least they work!”

  “Leona, can you run an analysis on the rainwater?” Andrews asked.

  “Already on it. Getting some good volume here through the vacuum pump. Just need a few minutes for the initial pass.”

  “Awesome,” Andrews said.

  “Hey, Captain. Slow down a bit, huh? You’re up to almost fifty,” Mulligan said. “We’re excited about the mission and all, but the last thing we want to do is hydroplane off the road. Hooah?”

  “Heh, you got it, Sarmajor.” Andrews eased back on the control column, bringing the SCEV back to a sedate thirty miles per hour. He checked the radar display, then pressed a button on the MFD. The imagery was transferred to the heads-up display before him, overlaying what he saw outside the view ports. It was getting suddenly dark. As if anticipating the command, Mulligan reached to the overhead panel and switched on the rig’s LED lights. They cut a brilliant swath through the gathering gloom.

  “Turn off in one mile,” Mulligan reported.

  “Roger, got it.”

  The rig continued plowing through the stormy day. Light flared suddenly as a lance of brilliant lightning cut across the sky, momentarily drowning out even the glare of the SCEV’s LED arrays. A moment later, there came a basso boom they could hear through the rig’s thick hull. Thunder.

  “God damn!” Andrews said. “This is sure some shit, Sarmajor!”

  “Not like the dust storms we get down south, eh?” Mulligan replied. More lightning arced, stabbing from cloud to cloud, illuminating the heavens for them. “See how bright that lightning is? That’s not just some paltry static discharge caused by a turbinado, that’s true Mother Nature at work, boy.”

  “Never seen anything like this before,” Andrews said. “It is pretty awe-inspiring.”

  “Well, get ready for some more awesome
news,” Leona said from the command intel station. “This rainwater? It’s remarkably pure. Like almost ninety-nine percent pure.”

  “Ain’t nothing ninety-nine percent pure,” Mulligan said.

  “Well, not after you had your way with me, no.”

  Mulligan looked suddenly stricken, and Andrews and KC both cackled with laughter at the big man’s discomfiture. After a moment, Mulligan laughed along with them. Even though they were in unknown territory and cruising through a potentially dangerous thunderstorm, the crew’s spirits were higher than they’d ever been in that moment.

  They approached the turn-off onto the road that would lead them into the higher elevations. A bent, battered metal sign declared there was a camping ground ahead. Sure enough, more tattered, weathered tents were clustered at the site. Also present were demolished trailers and even a vintage motor home. The motor home’s wheels were gone, and its door was torn halfway from its hinges. Whether that was from weather or something more malevolent, Andrews could not tell.

  Mulligan peered at the old vehicle through the rain-streaked windows. “Wow, an early 1970s Winnebago Brave. That thing probably has more living space than we do.”

  “Having fun walking down memory lane, Sam?” Leona asked.

  “Stop calling me that!” Mulligan snapped.

  “That’s the price you pay for confining me to the vehicle,” Leona snapped back. She was actually getting a little pissy that it appeared Andrews would be taking Mulligan with him when it came time to contact the survivors. Andrews couldn’t think of a way to smooth that over, other than allow her to accompany Mulligan instead of him ... and that just wasn’t going to happen.

  The privileges of command, he thought.

  He slowed the vehicle to a crawl as it approached the next waypoint, then slowly guided it into a right turn. Water was already starting to cascade down the highway in waves. It seemed that at least an inch of rain had already fallen over the past several minutes, and the skies were darkening even more. As a counterpoint, another bolt of lightning pierced the cloud cover and rippled past overhead. The ensuing explosion was loud.

  “Ground strike!” Andrews said, responding to the visual alert that flashed across the MFDs. “Good thing we’re shielded.”

  “Let’s not take that for granted,” Mulligan said. “Remember, these things were built to specifications by the lowest bidder.”

  “Good point. KC?”

  “Go ahead,” KC responded.

  “Isolate the buses and put the secondary generator on standby. Also isolate the APU for the time being, all right?”

  “Roger, underway.”

  “I can’t believe we don’t have a checklist for lightning strikes,” Leona said. “Maybe we need to create one.”

  “Already done,” Mulligan said. “The checklist is something like this. Item one: What was that? Two: Was ... was that lightning? Three: Does everything still seem to work? Four: Did anything catch on fire or fall off? Five: Sip coffee. Checklist complete.”

  “Sounds very professional.”

  “Hey. Ask and ye shall receive.” Mulligan regarded the radar return on the display. “There’s a level off ahead, looks like the entrance to a parking lot. Getting some flutter on the returns—looks like it’s flooded.”

  “I see it. Must be where this waterfall is coming from. How deep can it be?” Andrews accelerated up the hill, and the SCEV practically rocketed upward in response. Mulligan held up a hand.

  “Hey, take it easy, kid,” he said.

  “Calm down, you geezer!” Andrews said as the rig crested the rise. Still accelerating, it plowed through the standing water ahead, sending a tremendous, frothy explosion into the air. The SCEV actually began to deviate from its course as its eight tires fought for purchase through water that was actually deeper than anticipated. The vehicle began to spin out, heeling radically to the right. For an instant, the rig was uncontrolled, reacting to the dual forces of its momentum and the dampening effect of the water. Andrews whooped it up, feeling like a kid doing doughnuts in the snow for the very first time. In the second compartment, KC and Leona did the same. In direct counterpoint, Mulligan grabbed the instrument panel’s glare shield with his left hand, his right going for the copilot’s control column. Andrews eased the control column to the left and turned the wheels into the spin. Mulligan followed him through, his hand firmly grasping the copilot’s column in what Andrews likened to a death grip.

  Old guy can’t take it, he thought with a mental guffaw.

  The tires finally caught with a jerk and powered the big rig through the pool. On the other side, it resumed its upward climb without difficulty.

  “Yeah, baby!” Andrews said.

  “That was awesome!” KC cried.

  “Congratulations, sir. You just managed to drift an SCEV,” Mulligan said, a sour tone in his voice. “I thought maybe you were a little too old for that kind of stuff, but stupidity is apparently a bottomless well.”

  “Don’t be such a puss, Sarmajor,” Andrews said.

  “Seriously,” Leona threw in.

  Mulligan shook his head and sighed. “You people would do well to remember this moment when Andrews drives us off into a ravine and we all wake up dead.” He paused. “It was kind of fun, though.”

  Andrews chuckled as he guided the rig up the incline. The rain was continuing to come down and showed no sign of letting up, and the water rolled down the road in response. The SCEV remained sure-footed, powering them up the road without any slippage or loss of traction. The vehicle was a true champ, despite Mulligan’s quip about it being built by the lowest-bidding contractor. He swept his eyes across the displays, taking in the vehicle information that wasn’t being relayed to the heads-up display. Everything was nominal. The SCEV was doing exactly what it had been designed to do.

  “Straight on till morning,” he muttered.

  Mulligan glanced at him. “Where’d you hear that expression?”

  Andrews shrugged. “My dad? My mom, before she died, maybe. Why?”

  Mulligan shook his head. “Just an echo from the past,” he said quietly.

  “Sarmajor, I’m sorry for going gonzo back there and almost spinning us out. I just ... I don’t know, it felt right.”

  Mulligan laughed heartily. “Son, that was hardly going gonzo. Tossing a flash-bang grenade into an up-armored Humvee right as the crew closed the doors? Now that’s gonzo.”

  “Who did that?” KC asked. “Sarmajor, was that you?”

  “Perish the thought, Winters. I’m the child of policy and regulation, and the Uniform Code of Military Justice was my disciplinarian. Never have I strayed from the side of right.”

  Andrews laughed. “Mulligan, we gotta talk, one of these days.”

  “We have a month ahead of us, sir. I suspect we’ll get to it.”

  “I’d like to listen in when that happens, Sarmajor,” KC said.

  “Well, well, well. Sergeant Winters is finally coming out of her little shell,” Mulligan said. “Don’t worry, madam. I’ll be sure to bend your ear, too.”

  “She’ll learn to regret it,” Leona said.

  Andrews shook his head at Leona’s audacity. A year ago, she wouldn’t have gotten within a mile of Mulligan. Now, she was practically pulling his chain in public. He discarded that track of thought and went back to piloting the SCEV. According to the course information, the next—and final—waypoint was directly ahead. They were within three minutes of intercepting the barricade the drone had detected. A quick glance at the status display told him there was no chance of launching the UAV under these circumstances. Though the rain wasn’t a major factor, the wind most certainly was. The small aircraft would remain in its enclosure until the wind dropped below twenty miles per hour, which meant the SCEV crew would be reduced to divining the circumstances around them through the rig’s external sensors as well as their own Mark I Eyeballs.

  “Closing in on the phase line,” Mulligan said.

  “Roger that.”


  “Let’s back off on the power a bit, sir. We don’t want to roll into anything nasty.”

  Andrews eased back on the control column. “I’ll make the approach at twenty miles per hour as indicated, then come to a halt around two hundred yards away from the barricade. That cool by you?”

  “That should do fine, sir.”

  Andrews peered through the view ports into the stormy afternoon. The rain wasn’t letting up, but it wasn’t impeding the vehicle in any way. The SCEV went over a gentle rise, and he brought it into a sweeping turn to the right, following the curvature of the road. Halfway through the curve, he brought the control column back, standing it just ahead of idle speed. The SCEV responded and slowed, its big tires slicing through the water coursing down the roadway. Lightning flashed, illuminating the barricade ahead in a stroboscopic flash.

  “There it is,” he said. He brought the control column back to the neutral position and toed the brakes. The rig came to a gentle halt, idling in the gloom. Ahead, revealed to them courtesy of both high-intensity LEDs and the millimeter wave radar, was the barricade.

  Andrews and Mulligan looked at it for a long moment. The square panels lying on the pavement were actually chunks of plywood with nails driven through it, a decidedly low-tech but still efficient method to cripple vehicular traffic. The SCEV wasn’t imperiled; even if Andrews had driven over them, the rig’s tires were sufficiently robust to survive such an encounter. The rest of the barricade was less impressive. It was mostly concertina wire stretched across several wooden members in three layers. The barriers extended well off the road, disappearing into the trees that stood off to either side.

  “The barricade’s designed to keep people out,” Mulligan said. “Won’t do much to stop vehicles that get past the first layer. Which makes sense—no one’s going to be driving around here, anyway.”

  “So how do they?” Andrews asked. “I mean, fuel supplies have to be inert by now. Especially diesel.”

  “Biodiesel,” Mulligan said. “It’s the only answer.” He reached down to the center console and fiddled with the output controls for the millimeter wave radar dome on the SCEV’s back. The radar returns revealed more metal extending outward from the barricade, indicating that the barrier ran a good hundred yards or more through the trees and light brush that dotted the hillside.