The Broken and the Dead (Book 2): The Merciless and the Dead

by Jay Morris

  Tucker took a deep breath, the aliens had mobilized but hadn’t left their base as Tucker had hoped. The Defenders, two armadillos and one huge one that looked like a giant pink and gray bear, maybe a badger, it was hard to tell. Evenly spaced between them were the three type 1 vehicles, together the three vehicles and three defenders made the points of a star, Da-Nah technicians were arranged along lines that connected those points. Symmetrical, predictable and deadly. Tucker recognized the formation from a tour of Fort Monroe in Norfolk that he had gone on years before with his wife and kids. The memory made him smile, why not? He thought, he’d probably be dead in a little while anyway, why not smile?

  Day 43, Command Area Vehicle 1-3, 4:55 P.M

  “Insistive-Statement-Factual-Urgent“

  “Statement-Amenable”

  “Statement-Factual-Composite :{ Sensor-Energy-Status-Positive,

  Sensor-Thermal-Status-Positive,

  Conjunctive (Sensors, Vehicle Type 4-Detonation),

  };”

  “Insistive-Query-Identification-Type 4”

  “Statement-Factual-Identification-Vehicle 13-4”

  The Supreme Director flashed determination and his scent fury, he stood and faced the technician who had delivered the news. He spoke clearly so there would be no mistake.

  “Command-Insistive-Protocols-Original-Combat-Initiate”

  Day 43, 5:00 P.M

  “Tucker!” Karen said as she patted his shoulder, “They’re moving! It’s working!”

  Tucker parted the brush in front of their observation point a little and to his relief he saw that the alien force was indeed moving off to the southwest.

  “Yes Karen, it is working. Come on, let’s get back to the truck, we got a bomb to set off.”

  They moved carefully through the woods, in no particular hurry, they had to give the aliens time to move off to their imminent battle. And they needed time for the underling to do their next move.

  Day 43, Richmond Benedictine Preparatory School, 5:10 P.M.

  We made it back to the others in record time. Mary was driving like she was a NASCAR pro instead of a Doctor. Amy was pacing nervously when we pulled into the circle drive. She ran up to us and pulled the door open before I could. She pulled me into a hug and kept thanking Mary for bringing me back safely. The Doc just shook her head and said “Yeah, no problem” as she came around the front of the Humvee. George padded behind her then wobbled over to the group of underling who were laying in the shade psycho-talking or whatever it was that they did.

  I pulled myself free and looked at her,

  “Amy what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know really, I just had a bad feeling.”

  I sighed and said “Yeah, me too.”

  We looked at each other and it was as if for a moment we shared our thoughts. I said

  “But Tucker told us to stay here till the underling get here.”

  “He forgot one thing.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “He isn’t the boss.”

  “Oh yeah, I forgot that for a moment.”

  She bit her lip, she truly was a beautiful woman, for being so old anyway.

  “Let me get some things together, we’ll take the Humvee.”

  I nodded then added

  “Let me tell Mary and the kids about the change in plans.”

  Amy was getting a rifle ready when Mary went to her after I broke the news

  “Amy. Listen to me, this isn’t the plan.”

  “Plans change.”

  “Tucker is going to explode.” I warned.

  “It’s okay, I can handle that old fart.” Amy said with a knowing grin.

  Mary tossed her hands in the air and then let them flop down in frustration.

  “Oooooo-Kaaaaaaay.”

  She said in an exaggerated act of surrender, you know like she was really saying

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  The engine in the Humvee was still making that ‘ticking’ sound as it cooled when we got in. There was a slam behind me and turning around I was shocked to see George sitting there.

  “George! What are you doing? You aren’t supposed to go this time. Go on, go be with your friends.”

  He stared at me then handed me a note.

  “What is this?” I opened it and read it.

  “What does it say?” Amy asked.

  I shook my head in disbelief,

  “It says ‘Ja-nee you momma is nice and you throw oblate spheroid very very good’.”

  I stared at the little gray and even though his expression didn’t change I swear he was smiling. “What is he talking about?” Amy asked.

  There was confusion practically tangible in her words.

  “It’s complicated, forget it, I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.” She shook her head, put the transmission into gear and we pulled away.

  Day 43, James River Plain, 5:40 P.M.

  Pods 8, 11 and 13 were still in disarray after the explosion of one type 4 and a second being disabled. But Director 8 was under no illusions, the Supreme Director had set up the ambush to keep them stalled here, in the open and vulnerable. She expected the attack at any moment, she had set a trap within her trap. Her cat-defender was lying in wait in the forest to the south, the defender from Pod 11 was in the river to the north, waiting for an activation command. All siblings and a few guardian Da-Nah were in a type 3 waiting for the attack then they would be evacuated to meet up with Pod 2, who’s Director she trusted to protect the siblings. She had her unarmed Da-Nah and all the underling from all three Pods acting as bait, to let the Supreme Directors techs believe their trap had worked. Her armed techs were hidden in her three type 1s. They would rush forward and disembark amid the attackers. Her trap would snap shut, with luck the Supreme Director’s force would be severely mangled and forced to retreat.

  The attackers were spread out, moving quickly through the forest in a line abreast. The smoke rising from ahead left no doubt where the renegade Pods were, the lead technician had serious reservations about this mission but the Supreme Director had shown himself unwilling to allow his commands to be questioned. His force was only a hundred meters from the convoys, he considered approaching Director 8 alone, and perhaps there was another explanation for her Pods to be here?

  The technician never got the chance to ask. Lasers from Director 8’s triplet of pods began to fly from every direction. The lasers were silent, precise and deadly, but their targets were not silent, their screams echoed through the forest. When a target fell or the laser was improperly aimed the trees exploded when the water within them super-heated almost instantly. The Supreme Director's technicians finally began to fight back and their Defenders closed with the technicians who had sprung the trap. Bits of pink flesh was cut away by the lasers and strange indentations were formed by numerous collapsing binder rods. But the Defenders were well constructed, it took a tremendous amount of damage to stop them. For the first time in recorded Da-Nah history, Da-Nah slew Da-Nah. The last time this had occurred the Da-Nah had only colonized a hand full of worlds and Mastodons had yet to make their hairy appearance on Earth.

  Da-Nah died on both sides but the losses caused by the exploding vehicle began to show, the Supreme Director had sent too many technicians, but that was when Director 8’s Defenders entered the fray. The first rose from the river like a monster from the primordial ooze, and it attacked from the left flank. Three Da-Nah fell to it before it was met by something just as big, and just as fearless. Two Defenders, mirrored biological machines, programmed to destroy, tore at each other, genetically modified flesh was rent by machined bone of high strength alloy. They grappled and tumbled over each other, locked in deadly combat, unaware of the technicians from both sides they crushed. The two Defenders locked onto each other rolled into the depths and mud of the James River, never to be seen again.

  The battle line wavered and once more the Supreme Directors troops pushed forward and once again it was met by D
irector 8’s Cat-Defender. But this time, her construct was far more lethal than its counterpart. The Cat-Defender was blindingly fast, and its paws were armed with needle sharp retractable sickles eight inches long. The Cat-Defender spun its simpler counterpart around, climbed up its back and using something completely unique among the Defenders: a mouth. Its jaws were hinged in such a way as to allow it to open far wider than a normal Earth cat, it’s teeth were serrated like cross-cut saws, but dominating everything else were two fifteen inch incisors that extended below the jaw line when its mouth were closed. The Da-Nah had serendipitously re-invented the saber tooth tiger from Earth’s Pleistocene, it snapped the alloy steel reinforced neck like it was a twig, and then tore its opponents head off. The confrontation took exactly eight seconds.

  The battle was at this point essentially over. The Cat-Defender worked its way down the Supreme Directors line, killing at will. The technicians had no option, they surrendered. The survivors were brought before Director 8. She did not kill them or allowed them to be abused by anger painted, grief scented technicians, and instead she spoke to them as Da-Nah. As sisters and brothers of the most noble race ever to exist. She presented her evidence of the Supreme Directors madness and aggression. She showed them the laser damaged type 4 and the still burning remains of the other. She said that they could stay here at this place with her type 3 vehicles or they could go with her, to remove Supreme Director 1, end his un-Da-Nah like behavior, and end this planetary induced madness.

  Her appeal went far better than she hoped. All but two of the technicians joined her. Only two would be surreptitiously terminated once the rest left her temporary camp to deal with the Supreme Director. It was then, at the height of her victory that strange, unexpected and frightening facts were discovered. One of her type 3’s was missing, so were the underling, and so were all of the youngest Da-Nah.

  Day 43, Command Area Vehicle 1-3, 5:58 P.M

  “Insistive-Query-Status-Assault-Units”

  “Statement-Factual-Conjunctive (Communication-Negative, Status-Unknown)”

  “Insistive-Command-Status-Update-Required”

  The technician nodded and left the command area but was immediately was replaced by two more:

  “Permissive-Statement-Factual-Urgent” said the first.

  “Statement-Amenable”

  “Statement-Factual-Status Vehicle 12-3 unknown.”

  “Command-Insistive-Statement-Factual-Previous-Iterate Chronal-delta (0.0).”

  “Statement-Factual-Status Vehicle 12-3 unknown.”

  “Statement-Emotive-Irritation Event-Probability-Precise (0.0)”

  The technician was frightened, he didn’t know how to proceed, but the second technician broke the uncomfortable silence:

  “Statement-Factual-Respectful

  Conjunctive (Enumerated List

  [Pod 8-technician-multiple,

  Pod 8-Unknown-Defender-Modified,

  Pod 8-Type 1 vehicle-multiple], Locative-Update-Precise Destination-Local)

  Numerical-Estimate-Chronal ( .76 )”

  “Statement-Emotive-Composite :{ Anger, Frustration}; Event-Probability-Precise (0.0)”

  The Supreme Director hammered his fist on to the display top which only prompted even more bad news from the first technician.

  “Statement-Factual-Respectful Composite :{

  Da-Nah-Pre-Adolescent-Multiple Locative-Unknown,

  Underling-Multiple Locative-Unknown.};”

  “Command-Insistive-Query Da-Nah-Locative-Unknown Numerical-Relative-Estimate”

  “Da-Nah-Locative-Unknown Numerical-Relative-Precise (1.00)”

  The Supreme Director sat down, he flashed confusion and gave the scent of the lost. All of them? All his Da-Nah young were missing? How? And then he had it, Director 8. She had done this horrific thing, he would remove her head himself for this atrocity. He scrambled from the command area ordered his remaining combat technicians and his one remaining Defender, HIS Defender to defensive positions. Wait, he thought, until his Ursine-Defender had the opportunity to deal with these rebels.

  Day 43, Continued, 6:10 P.M

  Amy and I knew where Tucker and Karen should be, more or less. We drove slowly down the road looking for any sign, and then there it was, grass and brush flattened into wide ruts formed by the huge tires on the deuce and a half. “There” I said and I pointed the track out to her. She bit her lip and slowed to a crawl and pulled off the road, the Humvee lurched down into the roadside gully then again upwards as we came up the hill on the other side. It was so steep we couldn’t see the ground for a moment, only the sky. But the vehicle eventually righted itself and we slowly followed the big truck.

  After about fifteen minutes Amy glimpsed the tail gate of the truck, but there was no sign of Karen or Tucker. Amy stopped thirty yards from the truck then backed up, cutting the wheel hard to the right and going off the track to park between two large bushes. I looked at her curiously, “Just getting it ready for a quick getaway” she said with a smile. I nodded and a moment later Amy, George and me are slowly creeping down the track, looking for Karen and Tucker.

  We crested a long rise, and there laying on their bellies were our two malingering Hectors. I motioned to Amy to wait, then picking up a pebble I toss it gently towards them, it accidentally hits Karen on the tushie. She slapped at it like it’s a grasshopper or spider or something. She rolls onto her left side and looks back at us. She gives me her patented ‘you are stupid’ expression. She then taps Tucker on the shoulder and points back at us. Tucker looks back, he drops his head to the ground in a way that said he was frustrated but too tired to do anything about it.

  We low-crawled up next to them, Amy and I cradling our rifles in our arms in front of us. There is no dramatic “What the Hell are you doing here” conversation, I figured that could come later if we survive. When we are with them Tucker points at his eyes with two fingers then points down the hill. I look where he is pointing and cannot believe what I see.

  A huge Defender, is standing motionless in the woods, it is a monstrosity, and it has long hair-like fibers on its back, shoulders, hips and chest. The Arms end in paws with claws that look like they are a foot long. The feet are strange, each has what appears to be six short toes instead of the usual three long ones. The claws on the feet look wide, almost diamond shaped and they remind me of garden trowels. There are technicians spread out in the trees, but not many of them.

  Tucker reaches and pulls me over to him and whispers to me

  “They are just waiting, no idea what for.”

  I nod and pass it on to Amy on the other side of me. George took out a piece of paper and wrote something then handed it to me, it said “underling gone.” I passed it to Tucker. He nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose like he does when he has a headache. Finally he took a deep breath then he flashed a bunch of hand signals that made him look like he wanted us to steal third either that or he was doing the hand-jive. We all looked at each other then back at him for further explanation. He sighed, then slowly made a circular motion indicating all of us. Then he made little ‘walkie’ fingers on the ground. Finally he points to a large outcrop of limestone and made it clear he wants us over there, behind the huge Defender and the whites.

  I got it and so did everyone else, we started to creep to the outcrop. When we get there we gathered ourselves together, we were all breathing heavily, it had been a rough move on a steep slope like that. I looked around, Tucker is gone. I whisper “What the heck?” and look to the others, no one knows anything. Suddenly we heard the distant rumble of the big turbo-charged 478 cubic inch straight-six engine. “Oh shit” I heard Karen whisper.

  The sound of the engine, whining as it crested the hill got everyone’s attention. When the huge military truck appeared I could see Tucker driving it, we made eye contact as he went by and I finally understood Tuckers words to me:

  “No matter what it takes”.

  The truck also got the attention of the Bear-Defender and the
technicians. The truck began to accelerate towards the camp far below and the Defender accelerated on an intercept course to stop it.

  The Bear-Defender was fast, but not fast enough to catch the truck before it reached the center of the compound. Fifty yards from his target, Tucker’s luck ran out, the truck began to take hits from the technicians. Lasers cut away parts of the cab, hood, and they must have hit the engine as well because steam from the radiator mixed with oily black smoke bathed the cab. Blinded, Tucker began to veer off course and just as the truck rocked hard to the passenger side so that I could see the undercarriage, a laser sliced away the five tires and wheels from the driver’s side. The rubber tires caught fire and exploded, I don’t know if it was already going to happen or if the tires exploding was the last straw but the truck continued to roll and it crashed onto its side.

  Barrels tumble free despite the chains that they had fastened them to the bed and to each other. On its side the truck slowly spun like a giant green Frisbee. It came to a stop right where I imagine Tucker had intended to set off the bomb but nothing happens. The Bear-Defender reached the vehicle, it ripped the driver’s door from its hinges and threw it across the compound. It is so huge it actually had to bend over to reach in the cab. It pulled Tucker out by one leg, the way a man pulls a trophy fish from a basket. Tucker isn’t moving or resisting. The technicians are catching up and that’s when Amy screams: “FIRE!”

  Amy, Karen and I let go at the technicians, me and Amy both had .308 NATO and Karen her 5.56. We were high above them on the hillside, well concealed and on their flank and at first they had no idea where our fire was coming from. The rifles were devastating on the alien bodies, the bullets lifted them from the ground, ripped them open and tore their limbs off. The blue mist of their blood filled the air, azure fans painted on frost white corpses. The technicians only got off a few wild shots with their lasers but one of their binding rods disappeared into the rock outcropping we were using as cover. In moments the techs were either dead or dying but the aliens still had one weapon, one our rifles would not harm, the Bear-Defender.

  The huge thing spun to the sound of our attack, it threw Tuckers limp form 50 feet across the compound, and he looked like an unwanted rag-doll thrown from a speeding train. He crashed into a large stand of young Virginia Sweetspire, the fall leaves brilliant in red, orange, and purple, seemed to swallow him whole as he disappeared into them. We however had other issues to deal with, after we had nearly emptied our magazines into the technicians we took turns swapping in fresh ones. We kept firing at the Bear-Defender, and while it would sometimes slow or move a little sideways in response to our weapons, its approach was inexorable. Its wounds would seal themselves after only a second or two, I swear I could sometimes hear a ping as the bullets hit metal inside the body. The claws slapped away trees ten or fifteen inches in diameter the way a person brushes a curtain aside to see who is at the window.