Julia and Joanie rounded a corner and Julia ran right into the chest of an alien soldier. The two fell to the ground. The soldier quickly recovered. He rolled over and grabbed Julia by the throat with one hand. He held her down with that hand while he brought his weapon to bear with the other.
An instant later, a diving Joanie knocked him to the side. She had her knife out and stabbed at his exposed throat. He blocked her thrust and again tried to use his weapon. She bent his pinky finger back until the knuckle popped. When he shrieked in pain she went for his throat with her teeth. He turned his head just far enough that his helmet blocked most of her attempt. Instead, her teeth barely scratched his chin.
Then a green flash sizzled past her head. She looked back. Julia was firing at a group of aliens running toward them and firing back.
“Run!” Julia shouted.
Ignoring the injured alien, Joanie ducked back around the corner they’d just rounded, followed by Julia firing behind her.
They were able to reach the next corner before the aliens got up enough courage to turn the corner the women had just left, with Julia continuing to fire in that direction.
The women sprinted for where they’d left the Jilt.
* * * *
Moose, now in position to take his final shot, waited for the ship lifting off to get high enough to ensure a resounding crash after he shot it down. He licked his lips in anticipation.
* * * *
FronCar rose to 300 vorts and viewed the overall area in UV. It was alarming how much damage had been done in just a few minutes. The landing area was mostly littered with pieces of ships, a number of buildings were on fire, many of the troops in the vicinity of the barracks lay dead or seriously wounded, and there was debris everywhere. Most of the people on the ground seemed to be wandering aimlessly, as if in shock.
He gritted his teeth.
Whoever is responsible for this attack will pay dearly.
His threat warning alarm sounded. He heeled the ship over to try to slip the missile, while simultaneously attempting to fire at the launch point.
He got a shot off, hitting a building and producing a fountain of shattered bricks and concrete. But he had no idea whether he’d neutralized the threat.
Then the missile struck the tail end of his ship.
* * * *
The blast destroyed the corner of the building across the street from where Moose was standing. The shower of debris caused him to duck into the doorway beside him.
He looked up in time to see the ship spiral down into the pond in the middle of the park. It didn’t explode, but, “You’re not walking away from that, dude.”
He turned and ran for the Jilt.
* * * *
“Control, this is attack flight leader.” The flight screamed down through the atmosphere in battle mode.
“Acknowledged, Leader. What’s the situation down there?”
“Long-range imaging shows the southern part of the city to be in flames, with multiple buildings shattered as if by explosions. The area is in the dark. A few scattered portable lights. No power. Approaching for a closer look.”
“Acknowledged, Leader. Keep us apprised.”
“Acknowledged, Control. We—. Wait! I see a smoke trail. Missile. Someone fired a missile at one of our ships. It’s going down. We’re going in to assist.”
* * * *
Julia and Joanie reached their Jilt without further incident. They climbed inside to wait for Daniels.
“Come on, Sarge, move it!” Julia fretted under her breath. “We’ve gotta get going!”
“Maybe not coming. Maybe dead.” Joanie offered.
“He’s not dead! We just have to give him more time.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know, Joanie. Enough.”
* * * *
Three minutes later, on the other side of town, Tim reached the other Jilt. He, too, entered and then began to get antsy.
“Hurry it up, guys. It’s too hot to hang around these parts. We gotta go! I’m givin’ you ten minutes and then it’s boogie time.”
* * * *
Moose was happily jogging along, rifle held loosely in his hand, when four aliens crossed the street ahead of him.
“Shit!” He fumbled with the weapon as he came to a halt.
The aliens raised their weapons.
He fired off two bursts, hitting one of the soldiers before two lances of green light burned holes through his chest.
His final thought was, “Gotcha!”
* * * *
Julia kept checking her watch.
“Damn it, Sarge, hurry up!” Julia hissed. “It’s been 15 minutes already.” She turned to Joanie, “I’ll give him five more and then we have to leave. Those were his orders.”
“Maybe not coming. Maybe dead.” Joanie said.
“Quit saying that! He’s not dead! He’ll be here.”
* * * *
Daniels continued to trade fire with one of the aliens. He now fired in single-shot mode to conserve ammo. He was surprised that reinforcements hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe their communications had been totally hosed in the attack. That gave him a moment of grim satisfaction, but it didn’t help his situation. Undoubtedly the other alien was attempting to work his way around behind Daniels. At any moment he could be caught in a deadly crossfire. He had to dispatch the alien in front of him before he could deal with the potential one behind.
He looked around for ideas.
Behind him was an empty steel garbage can someone had knocked over. He pulled it over to him, and then kicked it as hard as he could with the sole of his boot. It flew out into the street with a loud clatter.
The alien turned and fired at it.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Daniels sighted carefully and fired off three quick shots in a row. The soldier flew backward and disappeared behind the smoldering wreckage of the alien vehicle.
At the same moment, Hiram growled and raced behind Daniels. Before Daniels finished turning, he heard the sound of growling and a cry of pain. Then he saw a green flash and heard a yelp. He stood and put two bullets into the alien’s face, where body armor did him no good.
Hiram had heard or smelled what Daniels, involved with the other alien, couldn’t: that the second soldier had gotten to within 30 yards of Daniels’ exposed back. Without Hiram, he would have been the one lying on the ground.
He, knelt down and stroked Hiram’s side. He couldn’t pet his head, because the top of it was missing.
“Thanks, boy. I’m so sorry. You were a good friend. That makes twice you’ve saved me. I won’t forget you.”
He stood and then ran toward the Jilt and escape.
* * * *
Tim checked his watch for the fourth time in the last thirty seconds. “That’s it Moose, Jason. I’ve given you all the time I can. If you’re not here in the next minute, I’m buggin’ out.”
* * * *
Daniels reached the street where he’d left the Jilt. Where was it? For a moment, he thought he was on the wrong street, or maybe it was a block up or down the street. But then he recognized the colorful sign for Sam’s Barbershop across from where he’d left the Jilt.
He was all alone in a city full of aliens looking to kill him.
“Shit.”
* * * *
PlevHun, the soldier whose finger Joanie had broken, was taken to the emergency triage station set up in the one corner of the park that hadn’t been obliterated. Because his injury wasn’t life threatening, or even particularly serious, he was put in the “can wait” category and given a painkiller. There were far more serious injuries to care for first.
* * * *
In the absence of FronCar, who was unaccounted for, second-in-command Commander JesBronn, took over both the rescue operation and the hunt for the attackers. He ordered the immediate shipment of ten massive field power units and comm gear to the city below. That would be enough to run the perimeter barrier, lights, and the other equipment
needed right now for emergency care. The power units would arrive from one of the carrier ships in the next hour.
He also ordered six defensive weapon emplacements to be delivered and set up around the city. That would protect them against further attacks from the ground or air. It would take several hours to get them in place and online.
Until then, those on the ground had to stand firm and endure.
But that’s what soldiers do.
* * * *
Daniels stood where he was for a minute, pondering his situation. What next?
The Jilt was missing, which probably meant that at least one of his team had survived to get this far, presumably Julia—unless Joanie had learned to drive when he wasn’t looking. That was good news. On the other hand, it didn’t help him one bit. He was much later returning than he’d planned. Undoubtedly she had waited until she couldn’t wait any longer.
He couldn’t really blame her, even though he knew he would have waited until hell froze over. Leave no one behind. But she was just following orders—his orders. He smiled at the irony that essentially he’d abandoned himself.
Now he had to find somewhere to hide, and then figure out how the hell he was going to get out of here alive.
* * * *
From a hilltop several miles from the city on the route back to the armory, Chrissy had stopped to view the city through her night-vision binoculars. She’d observed the explosions and fires earlier, including the ships Moose had shot down, and then the arrival of more alien ships.
That didn’t bode well for the humans inside the city.
If everything had gone according to plan, they should all be gone by now; but as Chick said, no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.
“Come on, lover. You can do it. Come back to me.”
She continued to watch, while listening for the sound of oncoming Jilts.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Daniels awoke with a start. He was seated on a chair, rifle across his knees, facing the door. He rose stiffly and stretched his aching back. He’d really overworked it these past few days.
“I’m still alive. I guess that’s a good way to start the morning.”
He walked over to the window and pulled the blinds aside far enough to peer out. The predawn light gave him a good look at the havoc he and the others had caused the previous night.
From this fifth-floor apartment, he had a view over the three story building in front of him. Beyond lay the park. There, aliens milled around like ants on a carcass. To his left was something that looked like a triage area. Judging by the number of people he could see, they had a lot of casualties. As a soldier, he took great satisfaction in a job well done. But as a human being, his heart sank at the thought of all the suffering.
They were no longer combatants, but patients. He could no more kill them now than he could strangle an injured kitten.
He shifted his focus to the landing area. Aside from the wreckage, there appeared to be more ships there than there had been last night. Reinforcements, or merely medical units down to help the injured? Maybe both.
Daniels walked to the bathroom to relieve himself and splash water on his face. Then he sat back down on the chair and took inventory of what he had with him to keep him alive. His M16 clip was down to 4 rounds. He had two buckshot rounds for the launcher. His pistol still held a full clip. He had his trusty KA-BAR knife, night-vision goggles, and a stale energy bar he’d stuffed in his pocket before leaving the Jilt.
It wasn’t much to fight off an entire alien army with.
* * * *
Dr. ZemBleth walked from patient to patient, personally supervising the performance of his staff in this trying time. He knew that whenever the Drahtch invaded a planet there would be casualties, many of them. More than a million, sometimes.
They were always prepared for that, with immense Medical Hubs aboard each carrier ship. But after a year of relative peace, with fewer than a thousand casualties—mostly bite wounds—they had grown lax.
This attack had taken them completely by surprise. It had been a hectic night as they scrambled to locate many of the field doctors and get the personnel, supplies, and equipment aboard the battle pods and down to the surface. Then they had to hurry to clear an area for triage and treatment, set up the gear, organize the wounded by severity, and so on. But now, twelve hours later, things were flowing more smoothly.
They were able to treat the minor wounds here, while those requiring surgery or other major repair were flown back up to the ships they were assigned to. There was a constant flow of people both up and down.
He was confident that the additional soldiers would secure the area. His only concern was for his patients—all three hundred and twelve of them.
Two hundred and fourteen others were beyond his help.
* * * *
FronCar awoke with a splitting headache. He found himself on his side, still in his pilot seat. The ship had come to rest on its starboard bulkhead. He released his safety constraints, but that made things worse. He discovered that his left leg was pinned against the port bulkhead by a piece of equipment dislodged by the crash. His right leg banged into the starboard bulkhead. It wasn’t until then that he realized he was injured. There was a gash in his thigh, but that was fairly superficial. Judging by the pain, he guessed his right leg was broken below the knee.
Now hanging by his pinned leg, he attempted to free himself. With no leverage, he was unsuccessful.
FronCar attempted to use the ship’s communicator to call for help, but it was as dead as the rest of the ship.
He hung there, pondering what to do.
* * * *
Tim and Julia independently asked themselves the same question. As each prepared to exit the city the night before, they were stopped by the sight of dozens of alien craft buzzing around the perimeter of the city. Clearly, they were looking for the attackers. At the same time, they created a protective cordon against further intrusion. However, it also prevented those within from leaving.
Once the day got warm enough, the heat from the Jilt’s engine would be somewhat masked by the background heat. But at night they would be more likely to be spotted, especially by hypervigilant crews looking for revenge.
For now, they had to sit tight and hope they wouldn’t be spotted by the alien foot patrols combing the city. At least the Jilt’s AO camouflage would help hide them—if the patrols didn’t get too close.
* * * *
PlevHun knew the more seriously injured among his fellow soldiers had to be treated first, but his finger hurt, damn it! The pain meds he’d received last night had long since worn off.
If that wasn’t enough, he now had a headache. His chin itched where that filthy indie had tried to bite him. But he told himself not to scratch. He didn’t want to get dirt in the scratch and risk an infection. No telling when the medics would get to him.
* * * *
Chrissy was seriously worried now. No one had come this way in the last ten hours. Either both Jilts had taken a different route for some reason, or…
That thought was too painful to think about.
In all the excitement of the past few days, she hadn’t thought to tell Chick the good news.
The morning of the attack on the mansion, she wasn’t just peeing in the bathroom, she was testing herself. Suzi wasn’t the only one who was pregnant—if the two-year-old pregnancy test was at all accurate. But after several days of vomiting, she was pretty sure it was.
* * * *
Daniels munched on his energy bar and reflected on what they’d accomplished with their attack. There was no question that they’d won a battle, a major one. One he really hadn’t imagined they had a chance of winning, against such ridiculous odds. But in the end, they’d won nothing. The aliens would still claim the planet, if, perhaps, with a few hundred fewer people.
Either way, the aliens had won the war in a virtual cakewalk. This was the only attack against them as far as he knew, and it
did nothing to slow the inevitable takeover of Earth. He was sure that after this debacle they would be much better protected in the future against further attacks. This was a one-and-done deal.
That was a depressing thought.
Enough ruminations. He needed a way out of the city that wouldn’t get him killed. He had to find his way back to his bride-to-be.
* * * *
PlevHun finally received treatment for his finger, as well as another painkiller. After that, his headache didn’t bother him anymore. And although he’d received some antibiotic cream for his scratch, his chin still itched.
That was a minor annoyance, compared to what others were going through.
Damn indies!
He coughed. And then sneezed. Damn allergies. The pollen on this planet didn’t agree with his nose.
* * * *
It was noon and still no one had returned from the city. Chrissy began to cry. They’d known it was a longshot, but she’d still held out hope that at least some of them would make it out alive.
She wiped her tears and got back into the Jilt. With a heavy heart, she started the engine and headed for the armory. If anyone did get out, that’s where they’d expect to find her and the others.
* * * *
By 2 pm, Julia had decided that she couldn’t afford to wait any longer. The tension was eating her up inside.
It was already hot outside. She thought she could make it if she went slowly enough that the AO would have enough processing power to keep up the illusion.
Aliens Versus Zombies Page 32