Beyond Armageddon: Book 01 - Disintegration

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Beyond Armageddon: Book 01 - Disintegration Page 45

by Anthony DeCosmo


  "For thousands of years we have fought each other. For what? To prepare us for this day! The battlegrounds of Troy and Gallipoli; of Tarawa and Trafalgar; all to prepare us for now. The poets have written of our warlike nature for a reason: To be VICTORIOUS HERE."

  Trevor glanced at Nina. She stood still but he could see every muscle in her body tighten in anticipation of the fight to come.

  He returned his attention to his 'army'.

  "It is time to decide. WILL YOU FIGHT?"

  A few vacant eyes glowed alive. Isolated murmurs of ‘yes’ danced through the crowd.

  "For our slaughtered families…for the enslaved children …for your lost lovers and murdered brothers…you are DEMONS waiting to be set loose."

  More eyes filled with life. Heads nodded in approval.

  "Think of all you lost. Think of what they have taken from you. Look at what they have made us! Who took our homes? Who killed our children? They are guilty! All of them! And they expect us to roll over and die? I say NO! They will take NOTHING MORE FROM ME!"

  The words raced from his lips and he felt the power. It surprised Trevor that he could find the nerves to touch, the buttons to push. As he watched, he saw that ragtag army change into a mob of murderers.

  Yes, maybe that was his gift. He could turn people into killers. Is that what the Old Man saw in him?

  It did not matter. The ends, Trevor now realized, justified the means. He would turn them into barbarians if he needed to for it was his charge to save mankind in the name of all who had died in the flames of Armageddon.

  "Unleash your hate now and…and…AND SLAUGHTER THE ENEMY! LET THIS BE THEIR GRAVEYARD! MAKE THIS THE DAY THE TIDE TURNED AND MAN’S VENGEANCE WAS DELIVERED TO THE INVADERS!"

  Clenched fists and raised rifles pumped in the air.

  Woody "Bear" Ross stepped forward.

  "Three cheers for Trevor Stone!"

  "HOO-RAH! HOO-RAH! HOO-RAH!"

  Trevor shouted: "I’M TIRED OF WAITING FOR THOSE SONS-A-BITCHES! LET'S GO AND KICK THEIR ASS OFF OUR WORLD! NO MERCY! KILL THEM ALL! EVERY LAST FUCKING ONE OF THEM!"

  The soldiers—policemen and garbage collectors, salesmen and teachers—roared in anger. Trevor had conjured the faces of dead friends, dead brothers and sisters, moms and dads, sons and daughters. They remembered living under the yoke of slavery and running in terror from ghastly creatures.

  No more hiding. No more running. A thousand wrongs ached for vengeance.

  "Sir, you may need this," Stonewall handed one of his Civil War era swords to Trevor. "Now I am prepared to follow you straight to Hell."

  The weight of the blade felt good in Trevor’s hands. Natural.

  Trevor sought out and locked eyes with Nina. He saw his lover there. He also saw a wolf.

  "Nina…this is your moment. Seize it."

  She smiled a smile to chill the darkest heart.

  Trevor raised his sword.

  "CHARGE!"

  Benny Duda played the corresponding melody on his trumpet. The mass poured from higher to lower, roaring across the open killing field and into the woods below.

  So many nightmares had come to Earth. So many hideous beasts and terrible creatures.

  They had made one mistake: they had awoken the most horrible of beasts. They had awoken the vengeance of mankind. The day of reckoning had come. Man would no longer run and hide. Man was coming after the nightmares. Hunting them.

  The ground trembled as the human stampede practically fell down the hill and collided with the alien army amidst the trees and rocky ground of the mountainside.

  The forward tier of the Viking force stopped, stunned into inaction by the brazenness of the assault. The enemy raised rifles but had little time to fire for Trevor’s legion smashed into them not as a cohesive military formation but as a murderous, savage mob.

  A few quick pops of rifle fire echoed through the dense forest; an explosion sent a trio of poncho-clad soldiers flying. However, the weapons of modern battle were quickly discarded in favor of more barbaric means: knives and rifle butts and swords and fists and teeth and fingernails and anything that could wound and kill.

  This was no genius tactical maneuver. It was a frenzied swarm. Barbaric.

  Unexpected.

  Trevor spent his last five pistol shots as he raced forward, and then swung his sword. It cut through ponchos easily.

  Brewer strangled a Viking fighter with his bare hands. Shep fired shotgun blasts until out of shot, and then swung the gun like a club.

  "At the wrath of the LORD of hosts the land quakes, and the people are like FUEL FOR FIRE; No man spares his brother, each DEVOURS the flesh of his neighbor," boomed Revered Johnny as he swung his baseball bat with both hands.

  Woody "Bear" Ross snapped the neck of one of the enemy. Cassy Simms held two pistols and fired and fired and fired while laughing hysterically.

  The K9s bit and clawed, shredding disorientated Viking warriors into tatters.

  Dustin McBride wrestled the gun off a foe then used it to pummel the creature to death.

  "THAT’S ALL FOLKS!" Casey roared as he drove a bayonet into one of the poncho-wearing villains.

  Stonewall joined the fray, skewering an enemy through the chest.

  The Vikings returned fire in a chaotic fashion. Their columns had been prepared to thrust at a static defensive line, not repel a horde. They marched toward the mountaintop expecting to find a defeated, demoralized enemy' not maddened demons at close quarters.

  For her part, Nina killed with precision.

  While still jogging down the slope, she raised her M4 and squeezed the trigger once. A single bullet killed a single enemy.

  She darted to her left as a pellet buzzed past her head, then back to her right to dodge another. Her weapon rose. Her eye found the mark. The trigger pulled. A bullet pierced a goggle on her opponent.

  She raced forward again. Two Vikings—staggering backward in the face of the onslaught—noticed her approach. Their magnetic rifles discharged. She spun and jumped and rolled behind an Oak. The unfriendly rounds tore away tree bark.

  Nina popped out on one knee, fired her third shot and with it killed a third alien; the gray and black colored poncho rolled lifelessly away.

  The other enemy fired with shaky hands. His shots missed high. She launched her fourth of five bullets. It missed. The alien stepped behind the tree in search of cover.

  Nina immediately took to her feet and sprinted around the other side of that tree. The sound of raging battle filling the forest hid the crunches of her feet on dried twigs and leaves. She surprised the alien from behind, placing the last of her five bullets into his skull at point blank range. The top of the poncho exploded into mess.

  She pulled the extraterrestrial’s rifle from his dead hands and gazed at its slender, plain barrel and the oddly shaped firing mechanism. She did not understand the weapon's rate of fire, how to clean it, or even how to reload it. Nonetheless, she understood triggers well enough. She understood barrels.

  The natural-born soldier raised the strange rifle and fired at the nearest enemy fighter. She felt no recoil, only a small vibration. No smoke discharged. No casing ejected. Yet the result was familiar: one of her enemies crumpled to the ground.

  Nina charged again, further down the slope, hunting for her next victim. Her eyes sorted through the churning chaos of intertwined combatants and gave it order. She lived for the fight. Now she fought not because it was all she knew, but because she had so much to fight for. She fought for the right to live. She fought for the love she felt for Trevor. She fought for her people, not as an outcast warrior but as one with them.

  Nina waded into the battle knowing that when the alien gun ran dry, she could turn to her knife and should that break she would use her bare hands.

  Trevor led the mob of enraged humanity and chased the Vikings not only down the slope, not only over the stream and fields of the valley below, but also back up the second mountain.

  The aliens ran in terr
or from the devils that pursued. They screamed in horror as they realized how horrid the monsters they had unleashed. They cried with fatal regret that they had dared come to this planet of death.

  The Vikings ran faster and more fearful than any man had run from any of the nightmares that had descended upon that world.

  They reached the top of the hill.

  Fromm stepped from behind a tree and took aim at Trevor.

  Trevor threw his sword. It pierced the Force Commander’s neck.

  The remaining Viking warriors—some pleading in an alien language for their lives—were slaughtered without mercy. Their blood filled puddles across the mountain.

  Trevor grabbed the dying body of Fromm and carried it on top of a red rock cropping at the crown of the mountain. His rage burned. His followers gathered.

  Trevor found the strength of all mankind. He lifted the commander skyward above his head as the alien gurgled blood and clutched at air.

  "IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN DO? IS THIS ALL THERE IS?"

  He tossed the dead body to the ground. It thudded and rolled off.

  Trevor raised his arms toward the summer sky. He shook his fists at the mysterious forces of the universe that had orchestrated Armageddon. He hollered a barbaric roar. A roar that echoed from the mountain and over the treetops and across the land.

  The aliens and creatures from other worlds that heard that roar trembled.

  34. Secrets

  Trevor stood on the balcony and watched as the convoy of Humvees, SUVs and one Bradley left the estate. He worked his radio to talk to the man in charge of the expedition.

  "How long will it take to get there?"

  Stonewall answered, "We will be exercising abundant caution, but I anticipate our arrival sometime later this afternoon."

  How much had changed since Jon’s expedition to Allentown last autumn! This time, after so many battles, Stonewall felt confident enough to travel the turnpike via motor vehicles, as opposed to slinking across the countryside on horseback.

  The convoy included Reverend Johnny and it aimed to reach The Order’s abandoned facility, secure it, and confirm the existence of the correct enzyme. If all went well, Trevor and Nina would fly to Allentown in the morning and it would be done. The memories would be purged. The woman he loved would cease to exist.

  And Trevor Stone would go on leading his crusade.

  He walked from the balcony into the empty Command Center where maps and binders called for his attention.

  Ten days had past since the Battle of Five Armies.

  Despite the victory, their casualties had been many. So many dead, many more wounded. Yet, they would recover. Trevor knew that. In the meantime, he would need to bide his time, restock ammunition, find more refugees, birth more Grenadiers, and focus on basics.

  Eventually, the war would start anew. More battles. More death. More killing.

  All part of his role to play, his path to walk…alone.

  ---

  Lori Brewer—carrying seven and a half months worth of baby--wobbled toward the barn. According to Dr. Maple’s ultrasounds, she carried a girl. The first child of the new world.

  Nevertheless, not even pregnancy could keep Lori from doing her work, so she wobbled toward the barn carrying a knapsack stuffed with bandages and medicine.

  The animals surrounded her, jumping and fidgeting excitedly.

  "Have we been good little doggies?"

  Lori patted heads until she came to Seth, a German Shepherd, with shrapnel in his haunch. His bandages needed to be changed. Lori spent several minutes cleaning the wound and re-dressing it. Seth flinched a little but he flinched less with each day.

  Her task complete, Lori struggled to stand. A strong arm reached in and helped her up. That armed belonged to Nina Forest.

  "Oh, hey. Thanks. I don’t get around like I used to."

  "Yeah," Nina gently tapped Lori’s belly. "With that big bowling ball you're carryin’."

  Lori smiled but said nothing. An awkward silence persisted for several seconds until Nina broke it with the bad news: "Tomorrow."

  Lori tried to find something to say. "Oh, well, I, um, well…"

  "I guess there are some words you’re not good with, huh?" Nina lightened her words with a tiny smile as she finished, "Like ‘goodbye’."

  Lori shook her head, saying, "No, no, it’s not goodbye. You’ll be back. You just got to get that thing out of your head."

  "It’s goodbye."

  Lori wanted to walk away from the conversation. It turned out there were a few things she did not like to tackle head on.

  "Why are you saying that? You’ll be back by tomorrow evening."

  "The person I am now won’t exist anymore."

  "Allriiighty then, so what, you’ll be a six foot red head? Will your name change? You gunna have green eyes? No. You’ll be back."

  Nina tried to explain as much to herself as to Lori.

  "My memories of everything…everything since the crash will be gone. All those experiences. I won’t remember any of it. Not meeting you or Trevor or everyone else. Not all we’ve gone through since then. Things that have…have changed me."

  "But you’ll still be you!"

  "I can’t be. I won’t be. I’ll lose everything that made me…that changed me…since then. All the times you were a nosey pain in my ass," she smiled. "Shep…Shep being, being disappointed in me that day…feeling guilty about what I did to Trevor. I mean, who would you be if you had never met Jon? Or if you had never known Richard the car salesman."

  Lori cast her eyes to the ground.

  Nina went on: "I just wanted to say…I just want to tell you thanks for being my friend. I know what that means now. Just that, well, I’m going to forget it tomorrow."

  Lori reached over and gave Nina a hug.

  "This sucks. You know that? It sucks."

  "I know. Listen to me; Trevor is going to need you. He’s going to need his friends."

  "But--"

  "No, listen. It’s going to be tough for him. Not just tomorrow or the day after that. The months and years after that. You know he’s a good man. You also know he’s in a tough spot. I’m just saying, don’t let him be too alone."

  Lori did not understand what Nina meant. Certainly Trevor would try and win Nina again. How could he not?

  Nina changed the subject: "So you’re thinking a girl, huh?"

  Lori wiped a tear away, "Yeah. I mean, yes."

  "Pick any names yet?"

  "Catherine."

  "Catherine. Catherine Brewer. Has a nice ring."

  "Yes," Lori agreed. "Yes it does."

  Nina smiled, put a hand on Lori’s shoulder, and then walked away.

  Lori thought to herself, Catherine Nina Brewer.

  That has an even better ring.

  ---

  "Do you understand?" Trevor asked Jon Brewer.

  He did not understand. He did not get it.

  "I thought you loved her. Was I wrong?"

  "I do, damn it. Don’t make this any harder."

  "I don’t get it, Trevor. Why?"

  They stood together in the empty living room in the estate.

  "Listen to me. You’re not dumb, Jon. You know there’s a lot of crazy shit at work in…in ‘all this’. Right? Things aren’t all straight up and forward, right?"

  Jon nodded.

  It had been tough enough to deal with the idea of alien monsters and armies invading the Earth, let alone Trevor Stone’s strange ability to command dogs and summon knowledge he should not have. Accepting Trevor’s post-Armageddon abilities without giving them much consideration always seemed the easiest route. Yet there could be no denying that Jon’s friend—the one-time car salesman—had a direct line to forces of some greater magnitude.

  "This is killing me, do you understand?" Trev closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "But this is how it has to be. If not, then everything could unravel. That’s not my choice. Do you hear me? But this is how it has to be."

 
; Jon repeated Trevor's strangest directive to date: "No one is ever to tell Nina about the relationship you two had. It is never to be spoken of. It never happened."

  "And if they do?"

  "Treason," Jon spoke the ugly tasting word.

  "Your wife is going to be a hard sell on this."

  "Shep may be harder. He said he never saw Nina as happy as she was with you."

  Trevor raised a hand.

  "Stop. Just stop. I can’t hear that now. It’s done. It’s over. Tomorrow is a new day."

  Jon saw the anguish in his friend. He did not know why things had to be like this; he could not understand it. What grand plan did this serve?

  He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  "I’m sorry."

  "We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?" Trevor said.

  "Wow, yeah we have."

  "We have much farther to go. Much, much farther."

  ---

  The last night arrived. Trevor and Nina had the mansion to themselves

  Shep had left for an all night poker game and the Brewers found a new home on the far side of the lake. Dante, in the meantime, did not say where he went but Trevor suspected he stayed with Kristy Kaufman for the night.

  Trevor had secured a couple of prime cuts of beef, fresh vegetables, and a bottle of wine.

  After dinner, they sat in the living room and dreamt of a normal world for themselves. A world without Armageddon.

  "And where would we have lived?" Trevor asked.

  "Hmmm," she smiled. "Well, Philly of course."

  "Because that’s where you worked?"

  "Well, I mean, I was a cop you were--"

  "A car salesman. I know, I know."

  "Philly is a great place. Lots of things to do. We could go to the zoo. Catch a Phillies game. Stroll through the museum."

  "Now that’s a funny image," he laughed. "You and I, strolling through the zoo. After all we’ve seen I think a couple of giraffes would be kind of anti-climatic."

  "This is a different world," Nina whispered. "A world where I’m not a soldier, and you’re not a leader. It’s a dream world. We’re we could just be together. No responsibilities."

 

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