by John Davis
“It's all right here,” Alicia said, taking a moment to hand the classified paper and photos to the sniper. “She was marching you into a trap,” Alicia said sternly. “All of us, she was marching us into the waiting arms of Ancient soldiers! There is no Lackland Air Force Base. Not anymore.” she added, her voice calming with despair.
“She's right, it's all right here in black and white,” Calypso said with solemn words before stopping on the list. “Wait.”
“I know, he's number eleven.” Alicia replied quickly.
“Who?” Preacher asked.
“Commander Snelling.” Alicia replied with reservation.
It hadn't fully hit them all yet, but Butchers waited for no one, especially Resistance soldiers filled with confusion. And they weren't to be taken as simple brutes of war.
As the door sprang open abruptly, Alicia was the quickest to respond, firing three shots which seemed to zip into the first Butcher.
Very large but equally injured, the demon fell to the ground in overwhelming pain, victim to her hot lead as much as his own haste.
Right behind the Butcher who had fallen into a pool of his own blood, a second charged, this time finding a victim of his own. Burying his serrated blade deep into the meaty area of Austin's shoulder, the Sheriff yelled loudly, a mixture of pain and shock to blame.
The demon's plan was to rip his blade back out quickly, but he ran short on time as Calypso stepped in, burying a flush elbow into the Butcher's face.
The Ancient warrior of great skill was huge, there was never a person to question it, but Calypso was no slouch in the department of physique. He too was large, his throbbing muscles damn capable of putting even the largest Ancient on its ass, and he had proven it to everyone as the Butcher lost its grip on the sword and stumbled back onto the ground.
Calypso had won the initial confrontation, only to lose moments later as he lunged on top of the Butcher and quickly found himself outmatched.
The last remaining Butcher charged, slowing momentarily at the sight of one of his so many guns on him. Less than a second later he slowed a considerable deal more, hit in both the legs and chest from gunfire. Jackson, Alicia and Preacher had all fired on the beast, and though a single round may have missed, with the combined skill of the soldiers it was unlikely.
Calypso draped his large arms across the neck of the second Butcher, pummeling it into the floor just a bit. And as the two struggled back and forth, Alicia fired a single shot that hit the heart of the Butcher and dropped it quickly; only to turn and fire two more shots into the chest of an already dying Butcher who lay on the ground.
“I'm out.” she said as she stood in the doorway, her lustrous hair flowing with the cool night breeze as she ejected a cartridge from her pistol and quickly replaced it with a full one.
As Jackson extended an arm to help Calypso to his feet, they turned to Sheriff Austin Garrett, who lay on the ground in dire pain. The Butcher's sword was still inside him, its teeth weaving in and out of tissue that was vital to his survival.
”Get him onto a table, that should help with the loss of blood.” Alicia said as both Jackson and Calypso quickly scooped him up and carefully left to head further inside the house.
“What now?” Preacher asked, his accent still thick with German descent.
“Well, my superior and those who have allied with him must be removed from power for their treason.” Alicia replied.
“I agree. How did you...” Preacher began to ask.
“According to Jackson, one of our own spies intercepted it only days ago. Been carrying it with him since, but when I was describing her group to Jackson, he recognized the name.” Alicia said.
“Well,” Preacher said, thinking of the treason of Nadia Jacobson. “Explains why she was so upset over the possibility of calling in an air strike.”
Alicia stood there for a few moments, her eyes studying the lifeless Butchers. “I just don't understand how a Human could turn on their own kind?”
“Yea, especially one that's so damn cute.” Jackson replied swiftly as he once again entered the room, his humor well received, Alicia smiling wide.
“I guess we best sit down and figure out our next move,” Alica said, her eyes still firmly connected to those of Jackson. “Going to have to get Austin back to Washington City if he's to survive.”
“He isn't gonna leave these folk here to die at the hands of Ancients.” Preacher replied.
“Yea, that's the real kicker isn't it?”
Chapter 4
“Listen up everyone, please,” Sheriff Austin Garrett said loudly, at least as loudly as his injured body would allow.
He stood on the wooden porch of his office, nearly two hundred townspeople gathered nearby.
“Washington City is our only option now, and we have to go quickly. Take only the things...” he said, several people interrupting him.
“But this is our home!” a man near the rear of the crowd proclaimed.
“Not anymore. When the Ancients return to find their own soldiers laying dead, make no mistake. They will burn New Kinneston to the ground and spare no lives while doing so.” Austin said.
“We should not be forced to pay for their mistakes!” a second man yelled, bringing confusion to the crowd.
“I want you all to hear something,” Alicia said as she walked to the crowd of gathered survivors. “The only mistake made was your thinking this war would not eventually end up at your doorstep.” She added, before pausing for several moments. “Since Invasion Day, your own species has been slaughtered without reserve. Not just soldiers. Not just hardened men with weapons in hand. Everyone!” she added, her eyes cutting across the crowd of citizens. “I'm sorry that we had to be the ones to bring them to your doorstep, I truly am. But if you would choose to remain here and turn a blind eye to the slaughter of innocent women and children, then you don't deserve to live in the first place.” Alicia said, sobering those who listened as Jackson approached her.
“There are only two safe places left on this planet. Washington City and Berlin. You all have heard this on your radios, and each of you knew this day was coming,” Jackson said. “But the Ancients do not care if the time is convenient for you, and they don't care about your lives. We do. So those who choose to stay, are free to do so. Everyone else packs what they can carry and leaves for Washington City with us.” he added a bit more calmly.
“One hour,” Alicia said with authority. “Everyone has one hour to collect what they can carry, at which time we will escort you to Washington City.”
Chatter and grumbles filled the crowd of people as the group of Resistance soldiers walked inside of the Sheriff's Office. Calypso hoisted Austin onto the long table of fine wood, his injuries worsening by the hour as the Butcher's sword remained plunged into him.
“I still say there is no way in hell we are going to make it. Too many people to escort, and not a single one of them has the training for it.” Jackson said.
“There's no choice,” Alicia said. “We have to try, if we leave these people here for certain death then we are no better than the Ancients.”
“I ain't leaving them here. I can't.” Austin said, cringing from the soreness of invasive steel.
“We're too far out for radio contact, I've tried seven times now.” Calypso said, working quickly with the transmission device they had brought with them.
“Save the battery, besides, the last thing we want is to bring the entire Ancient Division back to New Kinneston.”
“Can Washington City hold up against an entire Division?” Preacher asked.
“Don't worry, she'll hold. Just wish I was there to help.” Alicia replied.
“Everything has got to be a woman. Even cities now.” Calypso said with a wise tone.
“Yea, I'm getting that's why your group was led away from the real fight and right into a trap.” Jackson said.
“Well in that case,” Alicia said, a smile instantly painting her face a bit. “Let's set a trap o
f our own.”
And as the hour passed, dragging into what seemed like a tense eternity of emotion, citizens of New Kinneston began to crowd back around the entrance of the Sheriff's Office. One by one, each bringing with them loved ones and what little personal affections they could carry.
“Where are the rest of them?” Alicia asked as Calypso helped Austin to his feet.
Even though a sword remained plunged into his shoulder, its steel blade half hidden by his own flesh, the Sheriff walked to the front door as daylight began to set in.
“This is barely over half,” he said, his words disheartening. “I have to try and convince the others to come.”
“There's no time,” Alicia replied. “The biggest resource we have right now is daylight, and we can't afford to waste another second of it.”
“Sheriff,” a man said, approaching the local hero a bit skittish. “Wondered if you might take my children to Washington City with you?”
“Mr. Ranford, I expect you will be able to take them yourself.” Austin replied.
“No sir, our home is here. The wife and I, we can't just pick up and leave when there's a good chance this will all blow over with time.” Mr. Ranford replied.
“You do realize the Ancients are going to return. And when they do,” Alicia said, stepping from the porch in order to approach the man. “They will kill everyone here.”
“Yes ma'am, I realize that's also possible, which is why I'm asking you to take my two children with you. Give them a life and a chance should that happen. I've lived my life, and don't exactly fear death. Just want to know they are in good hands.” Mr. Ranford said.
“But Mr. Ranford, I...” Austin said, his words cut short.
“Yes sir, we'll be glad to help. Lots of children in Washington City that will be glad to have a couple more playmates.” Alicia said, turning to Austin and glancing hard.
As the man turned to leave the conversation, saying goodbye to his children in hopes of seeing them again, Alicia pulled close to Austin.
“It's no use. He's made peace with his fate, and just wants his children out of harm's way. Only thing we can do is protect them now.” she said, Austin nodding a bit to acknowledge the truth of her words.
“Alright, we have to head out shortly,” Jackson said, stepping up to the group in his United States issued uniform. “How are we doing this?”
“Austin will ride in our stagecoach, Calypso and Preacher on the front of it. We'll ride horseback alongside, with the rest of the caravan behind,” Alicia said using a finger to pull a bit of hair behind her left ear. “If we hit trouble, our guns will be to the front. But if the caravan needs us, Jackson and I can fall back to assist them.”
“And the children we are to protect?” Certes asked.
“I want them in the stagecoach with me. If their parents are trusting me to keep 'em safe, then I damn well plan to.” Austin replied.
“Good plan. Now, about getting everyone ready to move.” Jackson said as the group turned to look at those who would be making the journey. Well over a hundred of them, many of which were women and children.
“Listen up,” Alicia stated firmly, her voice as commanding as it was melodic. “A lot of the men of New Kinneston have decided to stay and fight if needed. That's their call. And I've given them my word that once we reach Washington City, I will personally bring a strike team back here,” she added. “But they have asked that women and children make the first trip in, and believe me when I tell you that we are committed to protecting you all with our own lives.”
“That said,” Jackson added, nodding to her for a moment. “We ask that you trust our military training and do as we ask of you until we reach Washington City. Any questions?”
“Just get our people there safe!” a man yelled as the others who would remain behind locked and loaded their weapons.
“You need not worry about that,” Alicia said, firming her own pistols into holsters which attached to her thigh. “I'm a bit pissed off, and when I get pissed off...”
“When she gets pissed off, Ancients tend to die!” Calypso proclaimed as the group cheered loudly.
Moments later the caravan began heading out. A stagecoach, two horse mounted warriors and a string of older supply trucks tagging along behind, each filled with the women and children of New Kinneston.
“Hold the line!” a Resistance soldier yelled, dozens of his own entrenched at the edge of Washington City. The Division of Ancients had tried to sack the city in one fell swoop. Of course, the mortar fire intended to crumble major landmarks was instead knocked down by the protective shroud of Guardian Angel.
The Resistance Soldiers each shouldered single-shot rifles trimmed with both bronze and wooden grain. They had lived every single day since the invasion inside of Guardian Angel, so they knew its limitations. Rolling nearly a dozen black powder cannons onto the street which was closest to the Ancient encampment, the soldiers of Washington City began to ring out booming death.
“It pains me that we can travel the entire solar system within hours, but cannot take a city held by Humans. Humans!” the Ancient Templar yelled.
“My Templar, we have lost all communication with the Butchers who remained in New Kinneston.” one of the Ancients stated.
“Keep trying, just as we will keep trying to take this disease of a city.” the Templar said loudly.
“At once!” the Ancient replied with obedience.
“Form a ground assault team. When ready, have those who remain here lay down an ongoing stream of covering fire.” the Templar demanded, barely pushing the words from his body before an explosion rang true only feet away. A cannon shot that had decimated the area and injured the demon in command.
“My Templar, are you...” one of the Ancients asked as several soldiers rushed to his aid.
“My body will heal!” the Templar screamed, laying on the ground with gaping cuts across his stomach and shrapnel embedded into his upper back, exposing glimpses of transparent bones. “Just do as you were told. Get those cannons off of us or we will be beaten!”
“At once.” the Ancient replied.
As the Templar lay there, the sunlight adding to an already painful situation, he began to wonder if their race had overstepped.
To the Ancient race, Humans were cattle who possessed the ability to reason. They could be used for tasks that otherwise hindered the Ancient race. But, just since the first minutes of Invasion Day, the Templar had seen so many of his own species perish. And though he dared not speak of it, an act that would be considered treason, he did wonder if the cost was worth paying.
The Ancients had planned to hit Earth strong on the first day and within a week own everything, and everyone, associated with the planet. It was to become a small planet that they could inhabit and manage, just as a farm. But the Templar knew the same thing that all Ancients knew deep down, though none would ever admit to it. They waited too long.
They knew Humans would advance, it was the natural progression of things. But, they had anticipated us to remain a peaceful race, one that would present little retaliation. Instead, they arrived to discover the grit of Human war. Humanity had been killing itself for centuries. Religion, politics, gold; all of it had led to Humans becoming more seasoned as warriors.
They had not arrived to find the weak cattle who were left here during the Egyptian ages, but rather, a race of warriors who were quick to unify when put to the test, coming together to face the doom of a star-born enemy.
And as the Templar watched those around him falling to their deaths, each body hitting the crusted ground of an extra-terrestrial planet, he realized that he had seen enough. Looking down to the wounds which had exposed his transparent bones only minutes before, he could see most of it repaired through the genetic skin grafting that allowed their race to heal so quickly.
“Enough!” the Templar demanded, standing to his feet just as his ground assault team was about to charge the city. His Division of soldiers was in shambles, ca
nnon fire combined with that of the Human Torque Guns to blame.
“We will fall back to New Kinneston, find our Butchers and wait for reinforcements!” the Templar yelled.
Falling back from battle would look bad on his record of war. However, he had decided that should the Ancient Council call him out on it, he would cross examine them with a war they were losing badly. At least the war against Washington City.
And though his body was growing stronger by the minute, self-healing the wounds recently inflicted, it wasn't nearly strong enough for the wounds to come.
Nearly a dozen molten slugs passed through the alien's sternum and stomach, as they did on several other Ancient soldiers. All fired from a Torque Gun that was mounted to a rooftop on the edge of Washington City.
“It's a hit, keep it coming!” Lieutenant Forsberg yelled to his men, one of the soldiers holding the gun still while the other fired through the iron sights.
It was a large gun, nearly the size of a anti-aircraft placement. A large, revolving chamber that fired as though it were a Gatling gun, though it was fed by a thick plastic hose of steam. The Humans had developed the technology less than a year before, the steam allowing one hell of a torque-filled punch in each shot while not falling susceptible to the rules of Guardian Angel overhead.
And, just as they had done with every previous attempt to sack Washington City, the Ancients fell back; scrambling into the hills that surrounded such a beautiful place to live.
“Hold!” Lieutenant Forsberg yelled, halting the gunfire by his side of the battle. “Conserve your ammunition, they are out of range. Assemble a team to go finish off their dying and collect gear.”
“At once Lieutenant.” a soldier replied with haste.
“I'll report our victory to Commander Snelling at once.” Lieutenant Forsberg said, turning to personally deliver the news.
Though it was not necessary. Snelling had been watching the entire battle through the large, atrium-styled window of his office. Hoping with every moment that the Ancients would finally win them over. There was a place for him in an Ancient-controlled Earth. He had been promised more power, more prestige. It was the reasoning behind his move to the Ancients' side, and he had expected a swift defeat of Washington City after doing so.