ALIEN RESISTANCE
“Omnibus Edition”
By Amanda Close
Copyright 2014 Amanda Close
ALIEN RESISTANCE
Episode 1
ACT I
Tara scanned the blasted city street, her keen eyes hunting for signs of Izrid snipers, as her hand clenched the well-worn grip of her assault rifle. More than one resistance fighter had lost their life to the alien sharpshooters, and Tara was taking no chances. She was a patient soldier, and that quality had kept her alive on several occasions. Unlike many of the defeated professional soldiers who had waged global war against the invading Izrid aliens two years ago, Tara understood that her enemies outmatched her both in number and in weapons technology, and that victory lay in stealth and patience. She had only been twenty-two when the Izrid first came, and in the two years since she felt as if she’d aged by a century. She had been living in a small studio apartment in Chicago when the Third World War was officially declared, and though she and the rest of the country had seen it coming for a long time, when the nation officially took a war posture she was numbed by the reality of it.
As a child she had learned about the first and second world wars, and the countless micro-conflicts that had been waged since then, though it was all history, and there was a distance that made it seem less solid. The threat of mutual nuclear annihilation had kept the world’s superpowers from turning to those devastating weapons, at least in the beginning. The corporations that ruled most developed nations were simply re-organizing the global power structures, finally melting down the ideal of nationalism in the fires of a bloody and conventional world war. Since the dawn of time human beings had fought over resources, both human and material, and WWIII was no different, even if the weapons had become more advanced down through the millennia. Tara had fled Chicago after several weeks of continuous terror attacks carried out by sleeper cells of enemy combatants. She, like thousands of others, fled into the suburban and rural communities that surrounded the sprawling metropoli of the country. Tara struggled, as did all the refugees, with hunger, thirst, and the need for shelter. Local authorities had little aide to offer the refugees, and soon even those authorities were cut loose by the corporatist governments as the war effort became a global quagmire. For nearly a year the world was at war with itself, alliances were dissolved, re-formed, then re-dissolved, and nobody had a clear picture of what the war was even about, or what victory might look like.
That was when the Izrid invaded, at the most fractured and violent time in human history. Global communication infrastructure had been so damaged by the time of the invasion that most military and remaining government entities were unaware of the invasion until it had reached such a magnitude that mounting an effective defense was impossible. The Izrid were more technologically advanced than humans, though not by such a wide margin that they were able to dominate humanity without a vicious fight, and even now, two years after a crushing worldwide defeat at the hands of the alien invaders, humankind still carried out a fierce resistance.
Whatever plans the Izrid had did not seem to include the survival of the human race. Interrogating captured Izrid warriors had proved fruitless for the resistance, as the alien race seemed to be arranged into a strict caste system, much like cockroaches or ants indigenous to earth. The warrior Izrid displayed only a modest animal intelligence, seemingly biologically programmed exclusively for battle and manual labor. They were fearsome indeed, with scaly and dull reddish yellow skin, reptilian facial features, and four-armed bodies that stood over six feet tall. In battle they wielded a combination of projectile and close quarters weapons. The resistance had witnessed at least one other caste, what appeared to be a leadership caste that had been seen at a distance during several ambushes, though most were assumed to remain inside the giant armored war machines that served as the mobile bases for the Izrid force. Their task today in fact was a complex ambush that had been carefully designed to bring down one of these otherwise impregnable fortresses. Called a suicide mission by some in the resistance, hailed as what would be the first major victory since the war began by others. Post-war Chicago was a twisted shadow of itself, as the former great American city had been reduced to a smoking ruin during the combined conflicts. All that remained was a wasteland of concrete ruins and shattered architecture, now the dystopian battlefield upon which the resistance waged its defiant war of survival against the alien invaders.
A flutter of movement shook Tara from her inner thoughts and snapped her focus back to immediate events as three more resistance fighters crept up to her position, each one carrying a heavy piece of equipment. Among them was Rick, a grim man of few words who kept to himself, though who fought with tenacity and cunning. There was Banda, a former mechanic who had become vital to the local resistance. The fact that the region’s resistance leader, a former lieutenant colonel named Fiona MacArthur, was putting her in the field instead of keeping her at base to maintain the systems there meant that this was a vital mission indeed. Cole brought up the rear, an achingly handsome man in Tara’s opinion, who kept quiet about his former life, though had been with MacArthur’s resistance since the beginning. Tara looked hard at Cole and realized that despite the fact that they had been sleeping together for the better part of six months now she knew almost nothing about the man, beyond his physique and his military expertise.
“Wow, this really is the sweet spot Tara, good eyes,” said Cole as he gripped her offered hand, “We’ll have a clear field of fire for at least a few seconds before they’re able to bring about the main batteries. This could work.”
Rick grunted in agreement as he unfolded a massive telescoping tripod and locked the legs into place in a wide stance. Cole unslung the long barreled rail-gun weapon system he had been carrying on his back and with Rick’s help set it onto the tripod mount. They locked in all of the bolts and Rick stepped back as Cole checked the range of motion on the weapon, then as Cole nodded Banda approached with her load.
“Do you think MacArthur will be able to push them this far west?” asked Banda as she hefted the ammunition pod onto the rail-gun and clipped it into place.
“MacArthur was blasting Chinese tanks and Russian commandos before the Izrid showed up, so I figure trusting her to get the job done is a safe bet,” Cole responded as he helped Banda with the ammunition belts.
Banda reached into her pack and brought forth a sturdy case, which she handed to Cole while Tara and Rick continued to scan the area for signs of the enemy. Cole opened the case and inside were twelve long cylindrical metal tubes, each one covered in a coat of polished chrome and tapering to a rounded point.
Tara looked back over her shoulder and asked, “So what are those anyway? I’m assuming something more potent than basic rail ammo.”
Cole held one up to his face, and as the sun glinted off the chrome he said, “These are devastator rounds. Miniature nukes housed in titanium casings that allow them to punch through almost any armor to deliver the payload. I’ve seen these things knock down skyscrapers. I don’t know where MacArthur found them, but if these work, man, this invasion is going to go very differently from now on.”
The group went quiet at the remark, each silently hoping that the devastators would be enough to get the job done. The Izrid mobile fortresses were deadly machines indeed, easily the size of ten to twelve story buildings, bristling with armor, heavy artillery, and housing legions of foot soldiers. A distant series of explosions signaled the start of the attack, and the team sprang into action.
Tara remained in place while Rick took up a firing position perpendicular to hers so that between the two shooters they could cover the vast majority of the street an
d neighborhood below. Cole checked and re-checked the rail-gun as Banda hovered nearby, ready to give assistance the moment it was needed. Several more explosions rocked neighborhood and the resistance fighters could hear the grinding progress of the enormous war machine as it smashed through the city ruins in hot pursuit of the decoy team. Within moments Tara could see the decoys fleeing down the street, a group of nearly a dozen resistance fighters riding an assortment of dirt bikes and motorcycles, each vehicle carrying a driver who had a shooter lashed to their back. It was a precarious plan, though it seemed to be working.
The decoys, led by MacArthur, had attacked the fortress with rpg rounds and sniper fire, then as the machine took the bait and moved in on them the decoy team had set off several IEDs to truly set the hook. The attacks were unlikely to cause any major damage to the fortress, but the hope was that they could bloody its nose and draw the fortress into a pursuit. When the machine came in range both Cole and another rail-gunner across the street would open up. The resistance had been struggling to mount an effective offensive on the Izrid forces, and so far had been forced to resort to guerilla tactics and sabotage, which while causing casualties and collateral damage was doing little to drive the invaders off world. The hope was that if the resistance could fine a reliable way to take out the mobile fortresses, which were the crux of the Izrid occupational force, a critical first step in winning back the planet would have been made.
Tara sighted down her rifle as she thought of their mission, silently skeptical of the possibility of success given the abysmal failures of past attempts. Though she stayed the course, determined to fight her best. Tara looked back at Cole as the fortress came into view, smiling in return as he winked at her. They had not been together long, though in these dark times bonds were formed quickly, as they were likely to end just as quickly. Cole was a good man, courageous and compassionate, and Tara often laughed at herself that it took an alien invasion for her to meet a man worth having. Small arms fire drew her attention and she saw that the decoys had turned around and were making the attempt at a last stand. It was all part of the plan, though Tara knew this was the most costly element of it. Within moments the Izrid ground forces had moved in to engage the decoys, whom had abandoned their vehicles and were scrambling for cover as they fired. Thankfully the fortress kept moving, even as it disgorged dozens of armed Izrid warriors, who began spread out across the ruins, rushing to flank the decoys and ferret out the resistance snipers hidden in the area. The urge to start shooting was difficult to resist, as Tara witnessed the decoy team getting mowed down in alarming numbers as they did their best to distract the Izrid troops and the fortress from the hidden threats in the buildings adjacent. Tara knew that if any of the Izrid warriors neared their position she and Rick would have to open fire to keep themselves from being assaulted, and that would expose their position, possibly before Cole had a clean shot.
Just as Tara saw the first of the Izrid warriors enter her field of fire the rail-gun team across the street opened up on the fortress, sending the devastator rounds screaming towards the target. The rail-guns made no sound at all, relying on magnetism to hurl the projectiles at the target, though when the rounds hit there was a metal on metal impact that sent vibrations through the ground itself. The fortress shook as the mini-nuke warheads detonated deep inside the machine, though impossibly it lumbered onwards. Tara aimed at the head of the nearest warrior and kept her signs on him, ready to shoot the moment he turned his head to notice them. Then suddenly the entire building across the street was pulverized by concentrated heavy artillery fire as the fortress unloaded everything it had on the other rail gun team. Tara took the window of opportunity and sent a single round through the skull of the warrior while it and its comrades were looking at the building collapse. Cole gave the word and his rail-gun spun up, he didn’t have the cleanest shot in the world, but it was the best they were going to get.
The rail-gun started spitting rounds into the fortress as Cole worked the gun, tracking the fortress with each shot as it lumbered onwards. Rick shouted a warning and then began firing, only to be pitched dead onto his back by a hail of gunfire as several Izrid troops emerged from the ruins behind their position. Banda screamed as a round punched through her thigh, though she managed to return fire while she fell to her knees. Tara turned and began shooting at the warriors as they rushed the rail-gun position. Cole was yelling with a mix of fear and elation as he ignored the fight going on around him and continued to pump round after round into the fortress, the vibrations of the internal explosions making the entire area seem as if it was suffering an earthquake.
Tara sprinted forward to get a better firing solution as Banda laid down suppressing fire, keeping the warriors ducking and sending one to the ground with two smoking bloody holes in its chest. Tara reached the low wall and crouched while reloading her carbine, Banda’s shooting had stopped, and when Tara looked she saw that the resistance fighter lay dead at Cole’s feet, half her head simply not there anymore. Tara screamed and turned back around to fire, shooting a warrior who was rushing them with its twin axes, then driving another back into cover. A moment later the world flashed white, and Tara could not see anything, then she hit the ground hard. The resistance fighter rolled over and saw that she’d been thrown by the massive explosion of the mobile fortress. The rail-gun lay in ruin and Cole was frantically shouldering his rifle and grabbing the ammunition case with the last of the devastators. She struggled to her feet as he ran to her, gesturing away from the fight as he took her hand. They fled while everyone and everything was stunned by the blast, not wanting to be present when Izrid reinforcements arrived.
ACT II
They had been running for what seemed like forever, until finally Cole found a small building among the ruins. Breathless they dropped their packs and weapons. As the adrenaline of battle and retreat faded away they both looked at each other and started laughing.
“We did it baby,” Cole said as he grabbed Tara around the waist, “I can’t believe it worked.”
“Anything they throw at us, we just keep fighting,” said Tara as she kissed him, “That’s why we are going to win.”
“Let’s celebrate,” Cole suggested as he kissed Tara harder, “Right here, right now.”
“Shouldn’t one of us keep an eye out?” she coyly replied, only to be silenced by Cole’s lips.
“They’ll be reeling from this one, we’ve got time,” insisted Cole huskily as he drew her closer.
“We’re crazy, you know that don’t you?” she said as she smiled.
As they kissed Tara could feel Cole’s manhood bulging inside his combat fatigues, and the knowledge of how it felt inside her spurred her onwards. He pulled her duty jacket down around her elbows, bunching it up in his fists and pulling it tight, effectively binding her arms behind her. While he held her arms back with one hand he raised the bottom of her tight black tank top, exposing her stomach, made lean by war and starvation, as he caressed her waist. The thrill of victory and sexual desire radiated from their bodies as they kissed passionately, letting their tongues wetly intertwine as he slid his hand down the front of her pants to gently massage her pulsing clit. Tara bit his bottom lip, sucking on it gently as she mewled with pleasure, relying on Cole and the wall to hold her up as the sensations of his fingers toying with her buckled her knees for a moment.
Cole kept touching her, breathing in her ear and kissing her neck as he stroked her. It took every ounce of Tara’s self-control not to cry out, knowing that too much noise might attract the attention of nearby enemies. Cole seemed to sense her struggle, and from the glint in his eyes she knew it excited him as much as it did her. To recklessly risk their lives so that they could enjoy each other’s bodies, it had the perfect blend of risk and reward to elevate their post-apocalyptic libidos to incredible heights. Cole let go of the bunched jacket and slid his hand back out of Tara’s fatigues as the young resistance fighter pushed forward and wrapped her arms around Cole. She kissed h
im again, then pulled away and started lowering herself to her knees, letting her tongue flick his chin and neck as she went. When she was level with his waist Cole undid his belt, smacking her gently on the cheek with the belt strap as he pulled it free from the loop. Tara grinned up at him and took a firm hold on his throbbing shaft, then began running her tongue up and down the sides of it until it was glistening and bouncing slightly as his heart pumped blood furiously through his system. The girl opened her mouth and took him into her, and he could not help but to move his hand behind her head and grip her hair, gently pushing her head back and forth as she sucked his cock. Cole was a well-endowed man, and Tara was a willing yet petite lover, so he had to be careful not to thrust too roughly, else she might gag on his formidable girth. What Tara lacked in the ability to take him completely into her mouth she made up for with enthusiasm and an expertise that made Cole find it difficult to stand on his own, and he found himself holding the wall just to keep standing. Tara moved her mouth up and down on the huge shaft, letting her tongue make wet swirls around the tip as she worked the base of it with her right hand, her left gently massaging his balls.
Cole feasted his eyes on her erotic display, and for the briefest of moments he forgot about the terrible war in which they’d found themselves. The years of blood and terror seemed to fade away as this beautiful warrior woman cradled his balls in her mouth as she pumped his cock with her hand. He never wanted the feeling to end, knowing full well that the moment it did he would be back on the battlefield, and suddenly he wanted to be inside her. He wanted to feel her warmth around him, wanted to fill her body to the brim with his own, to pound his humanity into her womb and revel in the raw human energy. He was overcome with his desire, as the smell of gunpowder and smoke filled his nose, and suddenly this sex act was about more than pleasure, it became a defiant celebration of their humanity amidst the genocidal alien invasion. Tara could feel the change in Cole’s energy, his posture and mannerisms at once becoming more bestial and more desperate. He pulled her to her feet by her hair and pushed her up against the wall, taking a firm grip on her tactical harness with his other hand. Cole let go of her hair and savagely pulled her pants down just below her ass, and instead of gently working her panties off he looped a thumb through them and moved the small cloth away from her wet pussy. Tara was shocked by his sudden intensity, though found herself responding to him with a desire of her own. They were soldiers, fighters for the resistance, and this is what battlefield fucking looked like. She smiled at that and turned her head to look back at him, her eyes burning with lust as he worked his cock inside of her. Cole grunted like an animal as he fucked Tara like a man possessed, with one hand gripping the tactical harness and pushing her against the wall while the other rested on the top of her ass, holding her panties to the side.
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