Ranger Martin and the Alien Invasion

by Jack Flacco

  Meanwhile, General Grayson pushed Randy through the door of the roof. Randy fell to his hands and knees thirty feet from Emissary Rodan. He slowly lifted his head to notice the massive ship floating in the sky. The general kicked Randy in the gut and barked, “Get up, you worm. I’m not going to say it again.”

  Randy crawled on his hands and knees and rose to his feet. He turned to the general and said without an ounce of fear. “I can’t wait to see you lying on the ground begging for your life.”

  The general didn’t need any more excuses. He landed his fist right on the boy’s jaw, reminiscent of the torture he had inflicted on Harold, David and Billy. Then he laid his hands on Randy and dragged him by the back. Randy’s knees scraped along the surface of the roof. If Randy knew what was good for him, he would have remained quiet. He didn’t.

  Randy began to laugh. Bellowing laughs like Ranger would have laughed when he knew he had the upper hand. Of course, this disturbed the general to no end and wondered what Randy found so amusing. He stopped dragging him, picked him up from the lapels and pulled him face to face with him, an inch away from his nose. “You want to try laughing now.”

  That’s when the general heard a click. Randy had snatched Grayson’s gun from its holster and stuck it in the military leader’s side, cocking the hammer back.

  * * *

  Colonel Hendricks slowed his Humvee approaching Beech Factory Airport. He could see planes sitting in the middle of the runway through his windshield, but he, David and Billy had work to do. They had to get to the control tower where he would send the retreat message to the alien ships nearby. If Hendricks’ plan worked, the aliens would not bother earth ever again. Although the aliens would miss seeing a real threat, he hoped a virtual threat would kick them from the planet. After all, the colonel and the rest of the Resistance worked on the transmission for several months, and the complicated task would involve a number of steps.

  As the clouds turned nasty and the rain began to fall, David sat in the passenger seat inside the vehicle, squirming. He loosened his seatbelt, locked it into place and even reclined before he placed it back in an upright position.

  “Troubles with your seat?” Colonel Hendricks asked.

  “You mentioned about the transmission. How does it work?”

  “Is that why you’re fidgeting?”

  “I was trying to come up with a way to ask you.”

  “You’re one strange kid.”

  David didn’t answer noticing the rain becoming heavy and the sky growing dark.

  “There will be three transmissions. The first will be an alien scramble message that we’ll transmit from the tower. It will contact any alien ship in the immediate vicinity and tell them to leave their post and flee the planet. The alien ship will acknowledge the transmission and they will request for authentication. The second transmission will repeat the first, but this time it will add an extra message embedded in the transmission that will act like a worm to their navigation system. This message—”

  “Hold on.” Billy said from the backseat. “How did you infiltrate their security to figure out what to send?”

  “We had a top-notch team of professionals, experts in the sciences of cryptography and system-to-system transmissions. They had degrees in communication from Harvard and MIT. Their credentials? Impeccable.”

  “Wow.” David said, easing into his seat.

  “Wow is right.” Said Billy.

  Hendricks let the words hang there for a second until he told them the truth. “Actually, it was some kid with a wireless laptop who gained access to the alien network. Smart kid. He was able to piece together transmissions between alien ships and understand how their language works.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “If you do or don’t believe it, I’m telling you what we’re going to do.”

  “Continue.” David said.

  “All right, after our first transmission, the alien ship will send an acknowledgement and request us to repeat the message. When they provide the acknowledgement transmission, they will have unwittingly set up the security handshake we’ll use to plant the worm. Like I said, the second transmission will plant the worm. It’ll run through all their systems, piggybacking from the navigation system. It will also act like a daisy chain, contacting other ships and passing the worm from ship to ship.”

  “You said there were three messages.”

  “If we receive an acknowledgement the second time, then we’ll send the third transmission. It will contain the execute code to blow up all the ships wherever they are. If they don’t leave in peace, and we blow up the ships, then we don’t know if it will be nuclear, in which case, everything surrounding the ship will die.”

  The mood became somber in the vehicle, and David had one last question. “Why not send the kill message on the second transmission?”

  “The alien security system will detect a malignant worm trying to gain access to their systems and will shut it down. Our second message will instead disable that check because it’ll hide its contents in the SOS transmission. Once disabled, boom.”

  The rain died to a gentle trickle, but the dark clouds remained. Billows of black stirred in the background of the airport. When they reached the tower, Hendricks swung the vehicle around the back to where the tarmac met the tower. All they had to do was go in there and send the transmissions much like the colonel described.

  Colonel Hendricks and the boys leaped from the vehicle and swung to the building’s rear door. Although the rain pulled back, hail began to fall. They ran for cover after the door they attempted to open stayed sealed. They stood inside the doorway as they saw how the hail pounded the vehicle they had driven in. Small dents in the roof resembled a Swiss cheese pattern. Billy rubbed the top of his head with an open palm wondering what it would have been like hadn’t their heads been underneath the doorway.

  The hail subsided, but the clouds above twisted and churned like a cauldron.

  “I don’t like the look of those,” David said.

  “Agreed.” Colonel Hendricks wiped his face of the rain. “We should be safe once we’re inside.”

  The three dashed to another door to the side of the building, opposite the tarmac, closest to the tower. Hendricks went first, opening it and leading the way without so much as any fear as to what resided in the shadows. The first thing on his mind was the lights. He couldn’t find the switch and the corridor ahead led to darkness.

  “Leave the door open.” David said to Billy who followed. At least the light from the outside would pave the way for a short time.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” Billy asked, after having caught up with them.

  “I’m following this corridor hoping it would lead us to the tower. Keep your guns ahead of you.” Hendricks said, the sound of his boots squeaked on the floor as he sneaked and held tight against the corridor.

  Memories hit Billy of the walls closing in, reminding him of what it felt like when he sat in the train to the camp with no windows. Rubbing his eyes, he kept close to David hoping the light would once again appear. A disturbing smell caught Hendricks to have him close his nostrils with the back of his hand. He stopped not seeing further than his gun ahead of him. The smell hit David and Billy in the face as well, forcing the boys to bury their noses in the bend of their elbows.

  “What’s that stink?” Billy asked.

  “I don’t know, but if it’s someone’s dirty socks, they’ll need to do a wash soon.” Hendricks said. He raised his hand, then placed his finger to his lips. They had to remain quiet as they moved closer and the smell became more pungent.

  David rubbed his belly and he turned an awful white. He breathed heavier and heavier as the smell gripped his insides. Nothing could prevent him from tasting it and gagging on the thought he’d choke on the flavor. He crouched, and holding himself with one hand on the floor, threw up without restraint. The colonel shook his head, then smiled knowing he once did the very same thing a long
time ago. Used to the smell, he turned to Billy and said, “Watch your step.”

  Rising and wiping his mouth, David followed.

  A few feet ahead, as the light became stronger, Hendricks stepped into something he wished he didn’t. A puddle of green goo trailed from his foot to under the door of a room on his right. Not about to find out what the substance was, he passed the room and headed toward the front area. Large windows overlooked the tarmac where the planes had departed and arrived during safer times. Billy noticed a bank of elevators on the left, but doubted they worked. It didn’t stop David from walking over to try the buttons.

  The rain became heavier again and when Hendricks glanced outside, the dark clouds pitched in the sky without dissipating. In the stillness of the area, with the smell having passed, a sound reverberated from the walls around them. It sounded like a hiss. Before Colonel Hendricks could investigate, a zombie dragged from the shadows on his right and headed straight for him. Much as a reflex, Hendricks shot it in the head without an argument. Then another appeared, dragging and moaning, white eyes brilliant from the light of the windows. Hendricks shot it, too. Then two more marched quicker, more determined to get their hands around Hendricks’ neck. This time Billy pulled his gun and shot both of them while David scampered to find a way out.

  Beside the elevators, a set of stairs led to the tower.

  “Over here!” David pointed to the door with the stairs.

  One gunshot after another and one eater after another, Hendricks and the boys took off running. David made it. Billy made it. The colonel, however, stumbled over a chair as the undead pulled their dead weight toward him as terror gripped his face.

  “Not this time.” David stormed from the door shooting anything that moved.

  “I got you.” Billy ran to help Hendricks on the floor.

  The crowd of twenty had turned into litter on the floor next to Hendricks, who shot to his feet and pressed the trigger one last time. “C’mon, we’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter 35

  “I’ve underestimated you, boy.” Grayson said.

  “You sure did.” Randy said.

  The general heard another click, this time coming from the gun’s trigger. He had shot his weapon so many times he hadn’t bothered to keep count of the amount of bullets he had left in the clip. Lucky him, he would have been dead.

  Terror filled Randy’s eyes when General Grayson grabbed the gun from his hand and threw him on the roof. The violent impact caused the teen to brace his arm and let out a loud cry.

  No more wasting time, the general thought. He relieved his gun of the empty clip, injected a new one and loaded the chamber all in one smooth motion. His next move came as expected. He pointed the gun at Randy’s face while Emissary Rodan walked toward him, ready for the general to deliver the boy.

  Randy’s heart pounded, knowing this time there was no way out. He used all his free rides and there was no amount of convincing the general to spare his life. He was good as dead.

  “General Grayson.” Emissary Rodan said. “If you want to collect your reward, I need the boy alive.”

  The general held his gun steady at Randy’s face but wouldn’t let go. His eyes had turned nasty and the grip to his gun tightened. The muscles in his jaw flexed as his nostrils flared. The anger had taken over him and he couldn’t reason any longer. His head felt heavy and a cloud came over his brain to confuse him even further.

  “Your reward, general.”

  Grayson’s hand shook, then he retracted the weapon in the air, letting out a mild grunt.

  While Grayson slipped the gun back in its holster, Ranger had picked up Jon and had made it to the twentieth floor of the Epic Center before the undead had caught up with him. He dropped Jon on the landing and said to him and Matty, “Run. Run as fast and as hard as you can, all the way to the top. If you hear the eaters chase after you, go to the roof on your own. Don’t go there unless you’re sure. Got that?”

  “What about you?” Matty asked.

  “Don’t worry about me. Run!”

  Matty and Jon did what Ranger asked. They knew if they were to survive, Ranger would figure out a way. He always has. He always will. In all the arguments Ranger and Matty have had, she never doubted for a second he didn’t care about them. He may have gone off to do his own thing on several occasions, but he’d never hurt them. She knew that much. For now, they climbed the stairs and left Ranger behind.

  With the kids out of the way, Ranger scanned the landing and noticed a fire extinguisher attached to the corner on the wall. The first thought popped into his mind: throw the fire extinguisher, shoot it with the shotgun. Boom. No more zombies. Before he could set his plan in motion, three zombies had made it halfway up the stairs and sprinted quickly the rest of the way to grab him by the legs.

  Armed with the extinguisher, Ranger wailed on the first zombie, crashing the end of the tank into its face. Green goo splashed over his shoes and on the stairs where it vanished below. The second zombie held on to his pant leg and jerked him from his spot. He lost his footing and collapsed on the landing. The extinguisher flew from his hands to the landing at the bottom. The most he could do was kick the second zombie in the face. That was all it took. A few kicks and the eater let go, screaming of the broken nose and the emerald blood pouring on Ranger’s boots. It didn’t give up, though. It joined the third one on the way to rid the undead killer.

  By this time, Ranger had had enough. He pulled the shotgun from its holster and pulled the trigger on the third zombie. It flew backward to hit the landing below, next to the fire extinguisher.

  The gunshot startled Matty and Jon to stop running. Matty wanted to help.

  “We’ve been through this before, Matty. We have to listen to what Ranger said. He knows what he’s doing.” Jon said.

  “He might need our help.” Matty turned to walk downstairs.

  “Don’t do it. He wouldn’t have sent us up here if he didn’t know what he was doing. Let him do what he does best and let’s keep going.”

  While Matty and Jon disappeared into the shadows of the stairwell, the second zombie that had broken its nose under Ranger’s heel didn’t know when to stop. It jumped Ranger and bit him in the hand, the same hand that’d held the shotgun. The shotgun flew from his grip and landed above his head. With shoulders pinned by the creature and its blood pouring on Ranger’s face, it was a bite away from declaring a win.

  The crowd downstairs had one more flight before reaching the extinguisher. Ranger had to get the zombie off him, grab the shotgun and in an act of perfect timing, shoot the tank at the bottom landing just as the crowd of zombies came to get him.

  In the meantime, General Grayson put his gun away, reached and grabbed Randy, propping him to his feet. Then, he marched the boy to Emissary Rodan.

  “Here’s your prized package. I trust you will now hold to your part of the deal.” The general snarled tossing Randy at the emissary’s feet.

  “Thank you, General. Once the boy is in my possession safely on my ship, I will send for a transport to retrieve you from here and carry you wherever you would like to go, based on the terms and conditions of our agreement.”

  “I’m sorry did you just say to me you wanted to leave with the boy before delivering on your agreement?” The general cracked his neck both sides and took a step forward.

  “As per our agreement. Yes.”

  “I can’t allow you to do that, emissary. I ran the tightest conversion camp in all of the former United States of America, found the boy you so desperately wanted, lost my camp in the process, lost my best men to chewers in the course of transport, which you had so masterfully created, got my ass whooped more than once, and you want me to give him up without so much as a clue when I’ll be heading on out of this rattrap? Think again.”

  “Then, General Grayson, what would you suggest?” Rodan crossed the top set of his arms at his chest while he placed the lower set of his hands on his hips.

  “Take me and the b
oy to your ship, transfer me to a transport and send me on my way.”

  “That is not possible.”

  “Of course it’s possible. Communicate with that big ship up there in the sky and tell them you have two passengers ready to come aboard. It’s not difficult.”

  “General Grayson, it is not within military protocol to allow an allied general to gain access to one of our ships.”

  “Protocol.”

  “Yes. We cannot allow it.”

  “Not allow.”

  “Yes.”

  The general stared at Emissary Rodan, then smiled. He heard those words “protocol” and “not allow” far too often in his military career to care about protocol and what is and isn’t allowed. What interested him most was the sound of the waves beating against the shore of his own little paradise he’d wanted. If he couldn’t have that, then he shouldn’t expect anyone else to have it either. Within a matter of seconds, General Grayson threw his hand on Randy’s throat and dragged him to the edge of the building.

  “I’m coming with you or he dies.”

  While Grayson’s hand squeezed Randy’s throat, the zombie with the broken nose, bleeding green, had Ranger pinned on the landing of the stairwell ready to take a bite of him. It snapped, drenched Ranger with green blood, and screeched as the other undead climbed the stairs. As they approached the bottom landing, he pushed with all his might and kicked the zombie off. It fell to the middle of the stairs. While reaching for his shotgun, the zombie hopped the steps and once again jumped Ranger, this time burying its teeth in his chest.

  In the throes of a scream, Ranger punched the zombie in the head with his left hand, but it wouldn’t let go of his chest. It had clamped on it good and had every intention to rip a chunk from Ranger before he threw him back on the stairs. Ranger wouldn’t tolerate it. His knife appeared in his right hand and he plunged it into the eater’s skull. Immediately, the undead loosened its teeth and collapsed on the zombie killer’s chest. With no time to rest, Ranger extracted the knife from the body, quickly slipped it in its holster, and noticed the slower crowd having reached the bottom landing where the fire extinguisher lay. All he had on his mind was the shotgun in his hand, a blast to the extinguisher and running for his life. It would have worked hadn’t the crowd shuffled the extinguisher down two landings with their feet. With several seconds between him and the horde, Ranger had to think of something else fast. No way could he shoot the tank hoping it would blow, not from where he lay.