Salvation (Cascade Book 8)

by Phil Maxey

  “So far it seems just to be humans. There are also a number of battle tanks. Over.”

  A chill ran through Zach. “Do you have any anti-tank munitions? Over.”

  “Yeah, got some. Shoulder launched missile launchers, but we have to be able to get them close enough. I’ve been told those suckers can take us out from over fifteen miles. And they are already closer than that. Over.”

  “You haven’t been fired on yet? Over.” Mitchell’s face jumped into Zach’s head together with anger.

  “Not yet. The Major, other officers, me and Abbey have been working on a plan to get us out of this jam. We should be able to let you know by tomorrow if it has worked or not. How’s everything down there? Over.”

  “We got a plan too, but I don’t want to say too much over this connection. Over.”

  “Well whatever it is, I wish you luck with it. Over.”

  “You too. Keep me posted. Over.”

  “Will do. Over.”

  Zach took his headset off then drunk some of his coffee. The vestiges of sleep were still clinging to him, but he stepped away from his desk, stretched, grabbed his jacket then left.

  He made his way through the maze of tunnels and was soon at the exit to the surface when he heard someone running behind him in one of the corridors. He paused with his hand on the door to the stairwell, and looked back at the way he just came. Michael appeared in full combat gear.

  “Hey…” Said Zach.

  Michael walked up to him. “Whatever mission you’re planning I want to be part of it.”

  “Where’s Megan?”

  “She’s fine, she’s being looked after by the day care people here.”

  Zach looked away shaking his head. “Yeah, I don’t know Michael…”

  Michael’s eyes glistened in the corridor lights. “I need to do something Zach. I need to make them pay. There are rumors that a big Op is being launched, and I want in. I need this.”

  Zach sighed then nodded. “I don’t know all the details myself, but I’ll take you with me to the Core, and you can sit in with me on the briefing and make up your mind what you want, okay?”

  Michael nodded.

  It wasn’t long before Zach was driving a Humvee with Michael as passenger. They moved along the deserted streets of the downtown area of the camp, then east across roads that had only been laid a few months before, and finally into the more rural part of the camp.

  “How is she?” Said Zach.

  Michael wasn’t sure at first who Zach meant. He had spent most of the journey from the bunker with his mind lost in the past. “Megan? She’s okay I guess. Not sure a six year old can really comprehend loss. She keeps asking me when…mom’s coming back.”

  “Kids are tough.” It was a cliche, but one Zach was sure was true.

  “Yup. How’s Abbey? I heard that the outpost has come under attack from the Boston people? I thought we were all on the same side?”

  “We are, but it seems Mitchells been influenced by the Cascaders.”

  “Erin?”

  “Looks that way.”

  Michael looked out at the barren fields passing by. “Shit just keeps on getting deeper.”

  The rest of the journey was in silence, although Zach kept looking to the skies wary of what he might see there. It wasn’t long before they were pulling into the parking lot where Klept’s saucer craft descended just eight hours before.

  An officer and two soldiers ran up to the Humvee as Zach and Michael got out.

  “I’m lieutenant Mullins. I’m to escort you inside and to the briefing, sir.”

  “Lead the way,” said Zach.

  They quickly covered the distance to the entrance, and were soon inside the elevator descending into the bowls of the earth. It had been a while since Zach had been back there, and he had forgotten how claustrophobic it felt. The bunker system was deep, but this was something else altogether.

  The lieutenant led them through a series of corridors, which Zach was sure were even more expansive than the last time he was there, and finally ended up at their destination. The officer knocked and was told to enter.

  The room must have been a new one because Zach had not seen it before. Stretching twenty feet in length and two thirds of that in width, it was already full of people when they entered. General Trow was at the top of the room, with an Ultor that Zach presumed was Klept and behind them both was a large screen.

  The crowd hushed as Zach moved forward. Michael found a place to sit at the back of the room.

  Trow smiled, almost looking relieved for Zach to be there. “I’ve just been telling everyone about our new friends.” She leaned in closer to him when he stood next to her. “Haven’t dropped the mission on anyone yet.”

  Zach nodded then looked around the room. Some of the faces he recognized, others were new to him.

  Trow nodded to an older man with a dark beard in the front row, who then stood up and walked forward. He turned to address the room. “As some of you know my name is Adam Fuller. I am the chief technical liaison with the Ultor's.” He briefly bowled his head to the tall alien nearby, who repeated the gesture back. “Before the Ultor’s arrived, we were having trouble understanding the Hulathen’s technology, and their biology especially, however with Klept and his teams help, we have made major strides in those areas. We have a toxin, which was created by Dr. Joshi who unfortunately cannot be with us today, that will attack the Hulathen's immune system making them high susceptible to normal human diseases.” A ripple of murmurs ran around the crowd. “We have taken that toxin and combined it with a common human flu virus, but targeted to the Hulathen's DNA.”

  “So we just got to inject the aliens with this stuff and that’s that?” A woman shouted from the audience.

  “There is a good chance that if we did that, the Hulathen would simply eliminate that particular carrier. No, we need to infiltrate deeper.”

  “Deeper how?” Said a man.

  Fuller stepped back.

  “We have put together a plan for a mission,” said Trow. “To go through one of the cube gates, to travel to a location far from here and to strike the Hulathen were it’s really going to do the most damage.”

  The noise in the room increased.

  Trow raised her hand. “Yes, that means we have to go into space.”

  Anxious conversations passed between the participants.

  “I would like Klept to now tell us more about what we need to do, and more about the Hulathen,” said Trow. She looked at Fuller who tapped away on a keyboard linked to a computer nearby. He then walked to Klept and handed him a microphone.

  A hush descended across the room.

  “Thank you for allowing me to address all of you. As some of you will know, my name is Klept, and I am from a species called the Ultor’s. The Hulathen came to our home world hundreds of years ago, in earth time. They evolved the creatures on our planet, similar to what happened on earth, but with less devastating effect. Some of us tried to fight back against them, but unfortunately, others of my kind took the technological gifts the Hulathen offered them and so our planet was enslaved. Myself and others kept fighting though. And indirectly that has led to how I am here today. The Hulathen, from your human perspective would be regarded as immortal beings. As with most interstellar species they create new hosts for their consciousness, and then when these hosts are ready their consciousness is transferred to the host avatar. We have replicated the toxin your scientists first created, and if injected into the correct place we believe the virus will be able to spread throughout the Hulathen in this region.”

  “But you said they are immortal? What about their err…consciousness?” Said someone from the crowd.

  “This is beyond our means to destroy. We should focus on what we can actually achieve.”

  “And if we ‘achieve’ this, then the Hulathen will leave us alone?” Said Trow.

  “I believe so yes. At least for a few millennia.”

  “Where will the cube gate take
us?” Said Zach.

  “The first point will be the staging post, which orbits the earth. You and Fiona have already been there. From there we—”

  “We?” Said Zach.

  “Yes, I will be making this trip as well.”

  “We can’t ask you to take this risk for us,” said Trow.

  “I appreciate as you would say the sentiment General, but unfortunately your people will not have the technological expertise to use the navigation controls to get to where you need to go.”

  Trow nodded.

  “So from the staging post, we will then go through the larger gates, which there are three. They are positioned roughly half way between this planet and what you call Mars. They appear as three large black discs in the night sky to you. That will take us one hundred and nine light years to a star system where the Hulathen have a facility where they create the hosts for this part of interstellar space.”

  “And getting back?” Shouted Michael from the back of the room.

  Klept hesitated before talking. “Getting back might be…difficult.”

  “But there’s a way back right?” Said someone else closer to the front.

  “In theory yes. But should we make it to the Hulathen creation facility and achieve our mission, the Hulathen will be sure to have learned of our presence by then, and might have shut down the gates.”

  “Meaning we will be stuck a hundred and nine light years from earth…”

  “That is correct.”

  The room fell silent as everyone absorbed the ramifications.

  Zach stepped forward. “Everyone here has been selected because of their expertise and the courage they have shown since the Cascade started. But this mission is strictly volunteer only, and we only need eight people. So—”

  Before Zach could finish, people in the room started to raise their hands. It wasn’t long before all had theirs held high.

  *****

  The radar operator at the outpost put down his mug of coffee and leaned closer looking at the screen in front of him. The contact points were on the move. As his heart rate increased he waited a few seconds for the display to update. When it did he took in a sharp intake of breath.

  He turned around to Lieutenant Shaw seated behind him. “We have contact movement—” He looked back at the screen. “—On…the north…west…yes, all sides. All moving towards the outpost, sir.”

  Shaw clicked on his radio and relayed the information to Major Hoxted, who was with Brad and Abbey upstairs in the seating area adjacent to the kitchen.

  “Looks like it’s on,” said the major to them.

  Abbey took a deep breath and readied herself. Leaning down she grabbed a scarf and some goggles from her backpack, wrapping the former around her face. “I better get going.”

  Brad got up and hugged her. “Good luck.”

  She nodded, as did the Major, and they all walked to the large porch outside.

  Abbey slid her goggles on and looked up at the gray sky. She felt her backpack, then raised her arms above her, bracing her joints against the strain that was about to be placed on them, and was ascending in an instant. The house, then the compound began to shrink below her as she flew higher and higher, being held aloft by Mo’s powerful wings.

  She shifted her weight to the northeast and Mo responded by banking in that direction.

  Hundreds of feet below, Brad and the major looked up, wiping the rain from their eyes, trying to make out the woman and her creature against the uniform cloudy sky.

  “How sure are you this is going to work?” Said Hoxted.

  Brad started to walk back into the house. “I’m not. We should get all non-essential personnel into the reinforced hanger.”

  Elsewhere. A mile to the north of the outpost, Captain Cruz listened to the report from his radio that the enemy was on the move. He studied the landscape in front of him, laying low on the roof of what was previously a bank. He clicked on his radio. “This is it people, just got word they are on the way.” He looked to his right. “Barber, you seeing anything where you are? Over.”

  “Nothing on this side of the town. Over,” replied a female voice.

  He then looked to his left. “Tate? Anything on the west? Over.”

  A gravely male voice responded in the negative.

  “Remember the plan, let them move into the town before you open up and each of you sound off about which of the heavy armor you are targeting so we don’t all pummel the same tank. Over.”

  A number of soldiers acknowledged.

  Within the outpost soldiers and other personnel ran in all directions, some going to the wall and lookout towers, others going to the large concrete covered hanger which housed what remained of the military vehicles.

  Brad ran up the small staircase to the attic of the main house with his binoculars, his rifle, a radio and a backpack. He pushed open the window, pulled his hood over his head, then carefully stepped out onto the damp roof. The rain was falling harder, and was bouncing off the tiles. Gripping onto the wooden frame of the outside of the window, he stepped around the arched roof to be able to see to the north.

  Holding his binoculars to his eyes, he surveyed the area. From his position he could see above the trees and the warehouses and office buildings of the town, and at first wasn’t seeing any movement. But then shapes and colors that were not natural moved amongst the gaps. He clicked on his radio. “Think I’m seeing movement on the main road into town from the north. Over.”

  He turned, being careful not to slip and moved over the rest of the roof to look towards the south. This time he saw the movement of military hardware instantly moving across a field. He also saw the outpost’s own light tanks, turreted Humvees and soldiers hidden against the trees and farm buildings in a defensive cordon, beyond the walls. “Movement to the south as well, looks about six miles out. Over.”

  “Looks like they are tightening the noose. Over,” replied Hoxted. “To all units outside the walls, do not engage unless you are fired upon, or I give the—”

  Before the major finished an explosion came from the east of the outpost, earth and part of the road there flew through the air raining down upon the walls. Then another explosion, this one tearing into part of the east wall, leaving a smoldering hole. Soldiers ran for cover into the nearby buildings.

  Brads radio came alive with conversations, but he wasn’t able to catch what was being said. As he looked to the south more flashes of light visible through the gloom of the heavy rainfall, heralded more shellfire. He crouched not knowing where they would land. They exploded one after another around the periphery of the outpost, destroying walls and lookout towers.

  He held his radio to his lips. “They’re taking away our defenses! Over!”

  A mile to the north a battle raged. Three heavy tanks sat burning at a junction, while streams of neon flashed back and forth between buildings and rooftops.

  Cruz, with three others, peered through smoked glass windows of the bank they were just on top of. “The wrecks have jammed their way through, but they’ll just find other ways south.” He clicked on his radio. “Tate, sitrep! Over.” Only static came back to him. “Damn it.” He held his radio up again. “Barber? You out there. Over.”

  The clatter of gunfire came from his radio’s speaker. “Still here Cap, just. Over.”

  “Sitrep. Over.”

  “We got one casualty, few walking wounded, and we’re out of missiles. Got one of their tanks though. I think they have broken through at tango. What’s the order Cap? Over.”

  Cruz hesitated. He could hear the fury of explosions to the south, the direction they were meant to escape too. He shook his head. “Stick to the plan. We need to head away from the outpost. It might lead their forces away. Everyone meet up at the rendezvous point. Over.”

  “On our way. Over.”

  In an unguarded building within the hailstorm of fire that was raining down upon the outpost, a large man laid, his head covered in bandages, a machine beeping monotonous
ly just off to his side. As flashes of orange lit the walls of the hospital ward around him, the beeping suddenly increased and Clovis sat upright. He looked around then ripped the wires and cables from his arms and swung his feet around to the cold tiled floor.

  He stood a little uneasily and grabbed hold of the bed to stay upright. Once steadied he walked calmly to the door, peering through the small glass panes to the corridor outside which was empty.

  He pushed one of the double doors open, letting it swing shut and slowly walked along the hallway, until he arrived at the deserted lobby area. He could hear the fury just outside the wooden doors and smiled. He then walked through them, not being affected by the collapsing walls just tens of yards away, or the smell of smoke or heat from the burning towers.

  Turning he walked up to the main house and without pause opened the main door. He stood, looking into the hallway and on seeing there was no one there, walked inside, opening the door to the basement. A cacophony of noise drifted up the stairs which he steadily descended, until he walked into the main operations room of the outpost, which on seeing him fell silent. He pulled out the chair at his end of the table, sat and put his feet up on it. “So, shall we talk terms of surrender?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A number of soldiers around Hoxted raised their side arms, and pointed them at the relaxed man, sitting back in his chair just a few feet away.

  “Do you hear that?” The man who looked like Clovis held his hand to his ear.

  Hoxted realized that the bombardment had stopped. Her radio suddenly came alive with Brads voice saying the same.

  Clovis pointed to it. “Why don’t you tell him the good news? That there will be no more death, well mostly no more death, and you’re all going to lay down your arms.” His head twitched and he looked off into the distance. “Actually some of your forces are still fighting. Do I need to continue the attack Major? Or are we done here? And—” He looked around. “—Where is Abbey?”

  “She’s not here,” said the Major. The soldier’s eyes flicked between Clovis and the woman in charge next to them.