From the Ashes

by Mark Tufo

  “There is so much more here you’re not telling me. You know if there was still a government, I’d be an employee, right? I’m sure I have whatever secret security clearance you need so you can tell me.”

  “I promise if we make it I’ll tell you.”

  “Well that’s incentive enough.”

  “And what about your wife?”

  “Shit, mental lapse. Don’t tell her about that.”

  Pebbles of glass were beginning to vibrate and slide down the hill as the Genogerians approached. They stretched as far as the eye could see. This wall was going to be about as useless as a shore bound wave breaker during a tsunami. Genos were going to pour up, over and around it. And then the rail gun nearest to me kicked on. If I hadn’t been looking I wouldn’t have known it because from where I sat the gun made hardly any noise, although it would have been really hard to miss the glowing balls of green that blew out the front.

  Genos were folding in on themselves as the rounds struck. It was shooting projectiles so fast it looked like a laser stream. The front waves of enemy combatants were being disintegrated—it was a death-dealing machine like no other. I heard the tapping of metal. One of the men that had been carrying the gun was now responsible for loading it. The other two were shuttling up more tubes.

  “Does it overheat?”

  “It can shoot five rails and then it needs to reset, that’s why we have the second one.”

  I could almost feel pity for the Genos. I said almost. It didn’t stop them any as they weren’t even slowing. And that gun had to be killing them by the hundreds. The round was passing through multiple Genos. I would imagine the smell of burning meat was prevalent down on that field.

  “Stubborn bastards, aren’t they?” BT asked.

  “Yeah. They don’t really know a different way.”

  “Whose bright idea was it to let them on our planet, anyway?”

  “Must have been some idiot politician.” I sure as hell wasn’t going to step up and take claim for that. Yes, I’d been in on the discussion and yes, I had wanted the Genogerians to have a new home. I’d also advocated that we keep the Progerians—lock them away, sure, but don’t kill them. I’d been outvoted on that part. “We must study them,” they had said. “We must befriend them.” I’d argued that we must put them in a large box, preferably on a deserted island. I knew they weren’t going to sit idly by and watch the earth spin. I can’t imagine that anyone truly knew they’d be capable of launching a full-scale war. Or maybe somebody did. When and if I got back I was going to go over the meeting notes and see who fought the longest and hardest for the Progerian settlement accord.

  “Yeah, you never do see the idiots that make the decisions on the field of battle, do you? They get to make the boneheaded choices but then everyone else has to pay the price.”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” I agreed a little too vehemently.

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  “I meant to.”

  “Do you always make so much sense?”

  “Oh, you’d be amazed. We should probably do less debating and more fighting.” I steered him off the conversation as deftly as I could. It was far from subtle. But we had bigger fish to fry right now, so I figured I was going to be able to skate under the radar for now. The Genos were still coming and we needed another thirty of those rail guns to really swing the momentum. They were beginning to come into effective range of our more conventional weapons. I’d say they were still more than a mile out but that didn’t stop some of the defenders from popping off some rounds.

  I can’t begrudge them that, seeing so many of the Genogerians running full tilt was unnerving. “Will any of your men run?” I asked, once again checking my sights.

  “They’re not all my men. And no, losing face among their gang would be worse than anything they could do.” He was pointing towards the Genos.

  “Well there’s literally losing face and then figuratively, so I’d have to disagree on this one.”

  “That’s some scary shit out there.”

  “Approaching five hundred yards. Game on.” I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. There was no guarantee I’d take another one. “Oh yeah, before we begin shooting and I can’t hear you…do we have a fall-back position?”

  BT merely smiled.

  “I’ll take that as a no. Please be out there, Tracy. I love you, Travis.” I took my first shot but it was tough to say if it was a confirmed kill. The Geno went down hard but was completely swallowed up as the herd passed him by, most likely trampling him to death and finishing what I had started. That was also fine with me.

  BT was shooting a fully auto AK, the heavy rounds nearly twice as loud as the borrowed M-16 I was using. The bullets were slamming into the ranks of the Genos. We stayed to the right of the rail guns’ field of fire, doing our best to suppress the enemy’s forward progress.

  “Four hundred yards!” someone shouted. The Genos had passed another threshold. In two hundred more yards they would be in range with their own weaponry and then I would switch back to my original rifle. Right now it was a wholesale slaughter. Our entire line was firing, blood sprays lifting into the air like a fine mist. It was impossible to tell the damage we’d inflicted as the Genos just kept advancing.

  No one needed to announce the two hundred yard marker as blue rounds headed our way. Most fell short or ineffectively into our glass barrier. When the rounds hit it sounded like someone putting a cigarette out in a toilet—just a short ‘fzzt’ then nothing. The screams started as the Genos found targets, which is no easy feat considering they were running at full tilt. At a hundred yards the horror of it really slammed home; their army was vast. I think even the men at the Alamo would agree that we were at much worse odds than they had been and they’d all died to the last man.

  We had about eight seconds of life left, doesn’t sound like much when you say it like that. I looked over to BT. He was calmly shoving another magazine into his weapon. I turned back to the enemy and could most assuredly see the whites of their eyes now. Even when I was a kid and I’d read about the Revolutionary War and that famous command to wait until...well you know. Screw that, if I could have kept them far enough away that they stayed a faceless, bodiless blob that would have been better, much, much better.

  I think the Genos had begun to realize just how ineffectual the majority of their shots were. A good number of them were screaming in rage, their rifle carrying arms over their heads. They weren’t going to shoot us when they arrived—they were going to beat us to death. There are a lot of ways to leave this earth and I think that would rank up there as one of the worst. Slow roasting might be the only one that would beat that. I’d had to switch trigger fingers as my index finger was beginning to cramp from the repetitive movement. If I lived I was going to file a workers’ compensation claim.

  “Might want to duck down!” BT shouted.

  I wasn’t sure how that was going to save us and then I quickly looked around. It had gone mostly quiet. Those around me were slightly pulled back and covering their faces. “What the hell?” I don’t think I got to the ‘hell’ part. I might have more or less thought it by then. There was a white flash like you see from fireworks right before the explosion, only this was much more vast. I kept waiting for the resultant explosion, like you do when you’re far away from where the rockets are going up.

  I noticed pressure in my ears began to increase and small debris around me lifting off the ground. I mean like hovering, not as if it had been lifted from percussion. And then, as if someone had shot these small pebbles and shell casings, they flew towards the Genogerians, who I noticed were all standing stock-still. Whatever was going on, they were as freaked out about it as I was. Along with the debris, the air was also pulled away from my lungs. For three or four terrifying beats of my heart there was no life-giving air. It had been sucked away from me as effectively as if I’d been submerged in water.

  “Get down!” I could tell BT was yelling, but in a
vacuum there can be no sound. Reading his lips was easy enough. I was curious and scared as hell, but not stupid. Well, not completely stupid anyway. I ducked and covered, my chest hitching as it begged for air. Right now I wouldn’t care if it was a crappy diaper laden toke, it’d be worth it. How many times had I pulled my shirt over my nose when I changed my son’s diapers? Right now, I’d breathe deep.

  My ears popped, as did my jaw. It’d been about twenty seconds since my last breath, which doesn’t sound like much. Give it a go sometime without taking a large intake of air first AND while you’re heartbeat is at an accelerated rate because you’re in the middle of a deadly encounter. Twenty seconds is an eternity; it’s all relative. How long is a day with your loved one? How long is your day when you lose a loved one? Same physical time, perspective-wise they are worlds apart. The mind is a funny thing.

  I knew I was a few seconds away from tunnel vision as brown/black spots began to form in my field of vision. Next came the explosion—like a giant bubble bursting. It was more of a ‘popping’ sound. Air, blessed air, blew past me. I gulped deeply nearly drowning in it. This was followed immediately by all manner of debris including but not limited to the pebbles and brass casings that had been in such a rush to leave. I thought at first leaves were flying past, until I noticed they were wet, red wet. Sheets of blood blew over our location, the leaves were hunks of skin ripped clear from their hosts. Then came the really disgusting part as body pieces, eyeballs, fingers, feet and maybe even some unmentionables bombarded us.

  It was like someone was using the world’s largest cheese grater, but instead of a nice parmesan they were using Genogerians. I gagged as I took in some bio-matter, it was much easier on the psyche to call it that rather than what it was. BT tossed me a bandana, this time I took it. Fuck it if it made me look like a gangbanger. I placed it over my mouth and nose and hurried to tie a knot behind my head. BT was covered in blood, and I imagine I was the same. I could tell from the crinkle next to his eyes he was smiling but I did not see the humor in our situation. When the carnage finally stopped we both looked to the battlefield. A significant number of the Genogerians were now racing to their maker. It was going to be a busy day up there, with all the calculating and weighing of souls.

  But much more importantly, the remaining ones weren’t moving. Shock, perhaps? Then I heard fighting again, small arms and tank rounds. Whoever was behind them was still firing.

  “What was that?”

  “A bomb.” BT was still smiling.

  “That was not a conventional weapon, man! Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on here?”

  He put his AK back up and starting shooting again. His non-answer was answer enough. And then something I hadn’t been expecting at all happened. The Genos were pulling back.

  “Three hundred yards!” Then the call came for five hundred and finally at a thousand yards it went quiet again. Even those that had been pursuing them had taken a reprieve, probably to get away. I’m sure the Geno retreat had caught them as much off guard as it had me and they were scrambling to get out of the way. My only hope now was that the Genos weren’t turning their attention that way. That was answered soon enough as the entire Geno line, at least that I could see, had just stopped. A low, mournful sound arose from them. It was a heart-wrenching wail.

  “Never heard that before.” I stood to survey what had happened to at least gain some semblance of understanding. The ground where the Genos had stood had been wiped clean. The ground had been stripped at least two feet down. The topsoil, along with any vegetation was gone. It was as close to any photo I’d ever seen of an off-world site like the moon or Mars, devoid of any resemblance of life. Bedrock was showing in some places. The wailing stopped after an indeterminate amount of time and was replaced by a chanting. I knew what that was.

  “What are they doing?” BT had risen and was standing next to me.

  “They’re praying for their dead and chanting to their god for our deaths.”

  “Those savages pray?”

  “You’d be amazed how very similar they are to us.”

  “Oh yeah…you have a pet one.”

  I laughed, thinking of Dee as a pet. “It’s probably the other way around, but yes, I’ve had a lot of contact with them and that one in particular. And I consider him more of a friend than anything else.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Are you going to tell me what that was?” I turned so I was facing him.

  He pulled his bandana off and wiped the blood off of his face. If anyone looked the savage I would have to say it was the both of us as we were covered in viscera.

  “We’ve had some help.”

  That was obvious—a couple of bulldozers had not created the wall. The rail guns were light years ahead of anything our military was working on and the bomb, if that’s what you could even call it, was not of earthly origin. “I’m listening.”

  “Ever heard of Stryvers?”

  “Unfortunately I have. I was aboard the Guardian, on one of our tours I believe, when our guide told us about the war they’d had with a species called the Stryvers. Neither the Genos or Progs have much good to say about them. Another alien race hell-bent on world domination and destruction, right?”

  BT nodded reverently. “The dust had just settled over L.A. I’d come back trying to find out if any of my family and friends had somehow survived. There was nothing, man, not even a stray dog. I rounded a corner and there it was, a ship. I ran toward it, I didn’t even have a gun, I bent down and grabbed a chunk of something. I can’t even remember what it was. I didn’t care I was ready to kill something. They had just killed everything! My city was gone.” BT was choking up.

  I knew the feeling well enough, upon my first glimpse of what used to be Boston the despair had settled so deep I thought it would weigh me down forever. It had threatened to shove me to the floor and maybe through it. I would have put my arm over his shoulder if I could have reached.

  BT continued. “I don’t know what I was thinking, or even if I was thinking at all. I wanted revenge. What stepped out of that ship, though…that I hadn’t been expecting.”

  “More crocs?”

  “Not even close. These things made the Allees look like cuddle pets.”

  “You’re shitting me?”

  “Do I look like I am?”

  “No, I just wish you were.”

  “I’ve seen them four or five times now and it’s all I can do to keep my gorge down. They’re something like a spider mixed with a yeti.”

  “What?” My fear of spiders is only eclipsed by my fear of cats and clowns.

  “They have these four thick legs covered in this coarse brown hair that they travel on. And then the torso comes up at a ninety degree angle from the body.”

  I was having a hard time visualizing what he was saying. “Like a Centaur?”

  “Something like that, I guess. The two halves are about the same size although the body is bulbous like a spider. The things had to have been about nine feet tall with four arms, two of which were recessed back…didn’t seem to be used much, almost like they were vestigial. I stopped short when I saw it holding something. It didn’t look like a gun but I was pretty sure it could kill me. I could hear it crackling like a taser.”

  “What the fuck did you do?”

  “I was frozen, I couldn’t do anything. I’m not proud to admit this, Mike.”

  “I won’t tell anyone. I’m pretty sure I would have just crapped myself and balled like a baby.”

  “I don’t really believe that.”

  “You have more faith in me than I do then.”

  “Its head though, if that’s what you can call it, was just more of an extension of its upper torso. I can unequivocally tell you that it was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. It had eight eyes and they were all as black as night. Then it spoke.”

  “It spoke?”

  “Sort of, it had some sort of mandibles an
d they were moving but it seemed to be projecting thoughts in my head, telling me to calm down and be still. The funny thing was, I did.”

  “Is that some sort of predatory thing on its part? Make you calm just before eating you?”

  “It may be, would be pretty nice if the stuff you were hunting just stopped and waited for you to kill it. But I’m still here so...”

  “You’re killing me, what happened?”

  “It expressed sorrow for the devastation. Then it showed me images of its home world. There were these huge misshapen towers and his people walking all around doing whatever it is his kind does. He showed me images of great land battles. They were giving as good as they were getting from what I could tell, maybe even winning and then he shifted to a later time that had a strikingly similar quality to what we’re looking at. The towers were gone, replaced by rot and ruin. The Stryvians were gone, and he stood upon the remnants of his world much like I had been here. The Progerians had developed a new technology.”

  “Those city-busting bombs?”

  BT shook his head. “Biological weaponry that specifically targeted them.”

  “I’ve got so many questions I don’t even know where to begin. Why...why are they here?”

  “He said that they trail the Progerians when they can, doing raids and striking at their flanks whenever they can cause some damage. Anything to help pay back the vast debt of death the Progerians inflicted on them.”

  “The rail guns...the bomb? This hill?”

  “Them.”

  “Are they here?”

  “They’re pretty gun shy for good reason.”

  “So they’re willing to help but not get their hands dirty? Did you get any sense of who started the war between the two?”

  “I didn’t think to ask, I suppose he implied it was the Progerians.”

  “What if they’re here to assist until we win, or lose I suppose, and then swoop in to take out the victor?”

  BT was silent. “Were you a government conspiracy theory kind of guy?”

  “The question should be, ‘Weren’t you?’ ”