by Neal Wooten
Colonel Jamison knew they had made a decent stand today, but without proper firepower, there was nothing more they could do, so he gave the order to retreat. That proved to not be an easy task. The aliens reacted to the new attack with a vengeance, firing at will at anything moving.
Soldiers rushed to the trucks and jeeps to get away. Some trucks were totally destroyed by the alien fire. The colonel hurried to a jeep as Lieutenant Williamson joined him. They sped away, trying to make it to the dye line that marked the new territory. But they didn’t make it. A shot from an alien gun connected with the back of the jeep and sent it airborne.
The colonel found himself on his back twenty feet from the impact crater. His eyes were blurry, his ears ringing. He could move, albeit not without pain, but he concluded nothing was broken. He tried to stand but couldn’t. As his eyes began to focus, he saw the beast coming toward him. He turned and looked northward and could see the dye line only about twenty yards away. There was no way he could make it.
The giant alien did not appear to have his weapon, so he charged the colonel with the apparent intent of simply squashing him, his eyes glowing red.
The colonel pulled his sidearm and fired at the face of the alien. It had no effect. This was it. He was helpless. Suddenly the armor of the alien erupted in two explosions, throwing him off balance. Someone grabbed the colonel underneath the arms and began dragging him. He was pulled all the way past the line through the dye. As soon as he was on the other side, the alien, who had recovered from the grenade blasts, did not pursue any farther, but turned to stroll away.
The colonel looked around expecting to see Lieutenant Williamson. But such was not the case. When he saw the identity of his rescuer, he smiled.
“Are you okay, Colonel?”
The colonel felt over his body. He was beat up, bruised, bleeding, and sore, but very much alive. He nodded to the guy who had pulled him to safety. “I’m okay, Francisco.” He looked over the young man who had just saved his life. Any other time he would have frowned upon such a person, maybe even looked down on him. For some reason, his fatherly instincts, which had eluded his own sons for so long, kicked into high gear. “Where’s your mother and father, son?”
Francisco shrugged. “Never knew my father. My mom and younger sister are at home.”
Without trying to sound condescending, the colonel attempted to express his concerns. “Don’t you think you should be trying to take care of them instead of running around with a gang?”
Francisco looked the colonel in the eyes. “Sí. I do try to take care of them. I know that being in a gang was my choice, but I assure you, Colonel, it wasn’t my first choice.”
As the colonel looked into Francisco’s eyes as well, he knew now he had never tried to understand. How could he know what this young man had been through in his life? How could he judge him by his appearance? All he knew for sure was this person showed up and volunteered to put his life on the line for his family, and that he had just pulled him to safety. He knew there was only one appropriate thing to say. “Thank you for saving my life.”
The young man smiled, stood up, and lowered his hand to aid the colonel, who took his hand and stood up as well.
“Sí, Colonel. You’re welcome.”
Chapter Sixteen
Colonel Jamison sat at the table in the command center, now positioned in the southern part of Mexico. It had been two days since the last battle. Although they had mounted a more successful defense, losses were still great, totaling 30 percent of manpower once again, except for the Latino gang, who never heeded the retreat order and continued to fight, even taking on the monsters hand to hand. As far as the colonel knew, there were only about fifteen of them left, including Francisco.
“Sir?”
The colonel glanced up, obviously unaware that others had joined him. “What is it, Dr. Mitchell?”
“I’d like to call a think session.”
The colonel looked up wearily. “What is that?”
“It’s what we used to do at SETI meetings. We throw out ideas at random, hoping one will be of use.”
The colonel nodded. “Yes, let’s do that.”
Everyone sat around the table. General Echevarria, Major Strafford, and Captain Owens seemed eager to hear any ideas.
“Okay,” Darren began. “Let’s begin with what doesn’t work.”
Major Strafford laughed. “That’s quite a list.”
Colonel Jamison nodded. “We know every attack from our ships, subs, and fighters and bombers have been unsuccessful, even the napalm. In other words, our most powerful weapons are null and void.”
“Okay.” Dr. McNair joined in. “So we have to concentrate on what will work on the ground.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“How about bear traps?” Thomas blurted out.
All four military commanders laughed.
“No, that’s okay,” Darren said. “This is exactly what a think session is. Not all ideas pan out, but the key is to keep throwing them out there.”
“If only they were allergic to something,” Sally said. “You know, something not harmful to humans.”
“Maybe we could examine one of the dead ones,” Captain Owens suggested.
“Exactly,” Sally said. “If I could do an autopsy on one of them, we might learn something about how their systems work.”
“But the shield covers the battlefield when the fighting is over,” Major Strafford said. “That means we’d have to attempt that during the heat of battle. How would we even do that? Hook a rope around their ankles and drag them to you?”
“It might work,” the colonel said. “Let’s try to figure out a way to get a dead alien to Dr. Xie so she can dissect the bastard to find out what makes him tick.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Back to the question at hand,” the major said. “How do we fight them now?”
“What about bees?” Thomas asked. “Maybe we could drop a hundred hives on them. Even if they weren’t allergic, it would sure be painful to them. I mean . . . wouldn’t it? ”
“Now that’s not bad,” Major Strafford said.
The room was silent for two full minutes as everyone thought.
“Well,” the colonel finally said, “are bees and bear traps the best we’ve got?”
“The truth is,” Sally said, “that primitive weapons might be the most effective. Their technology is so far advanced, they’ve learned how to defend against high-tech weapons, but maybe they’ve forgotten how to defend against low-tech devices, even bear traps.”
Captain Owens spoke up. “The same goes for us. We can’t train soldiers overnight how to use spears and bows and arrows again. I mean, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“Even spears and arrows won’t penetrate their armor,” Major Strafford said. “We need something that can attack them from behind.”
“Boomerangs,” Thomas blurted out again.
Everyone laughed.
“It’s not bad,” the colonel said. “Do we know of anything more lethal that can circle around to the rear of the aliens?”
No one had an answer.
“Wait a minute,” Dr. McNair said. His eyes shifted around but were not focusing on anything in the room. “Wait a minute,” he repeated.
“Well?” Darren said. “Share it with us.”
Dr. McNair looked up. “I was just remembering my family’s last ski trip many years ago.”
Everyone laughed.
Captain Owens patted the table as he laughed. “Great. Do you have slides?”
“No, no, wait,” Dr. McNair continued. “I remember that it hadn’t snowed so the resorts made their own. These creatures love the heat, right? They’ve been warming our planet for years now. They even picked Central America for their point of invasion. Forget attacking them with fire from above; let’s attack them with cold from the ground.”
The colonel sat up a little straighter. “How would we do that?”
“Snow machines,” Thomas said.
The colonel let the information sink in. “You mean—”
“Yes, sir,” Dr. McNair answered. “We set up snowmaking machines all along the front of the shield and blast away. I’m not sure the snow will stay with this heat, but it might cool the area down enough to make them really uncomfortable.”
The colonel jumped up and rushed to the SATCOM and put in a call for General Nickerson. Once he got him on the line, the colonel told him what they needed.
Major Strafford crossed his arms and nodded. “Yeah, I knew I would think of something.”
The next day, large military helicopters began delivering snowmaking machines. They raided every ski resort in North America. Soldiers had instructions to spread the machines out along the front of the shield, approximately one hundred feet away. They worked night and day to finish.
“They’re all in place,” Sally told the colonel.
The colonel looked out over the area. It was still partially wooded, so he couldn’t see very far. But the snow machines were all pointed in the right direction, and it would be only a few days before the shield would lift. To the colonel they resembled large spotlights. “Fire ’em up!” he ordered.
The machines, fed by water lines, came to life and began shooting arcs of snow into the air all the way to the shield. But with temps over one hundred degrees, the snow was melting as fast as it was flying.
“All we can do is let them run,” the colonel said and walked back into the command center.
He and the other commanders went over strategies while the team of advisors tried to think of other ideas. They all went to sleep that night with the slightest spark of hope. The snow machines might be a dumb idea, but it was at least an idea.
The hum of the machines allowed the colonel to quickly drift to sleep. He slept long and hard with no nightmares and woke up refreshed, although a bit embarrassed that it was almost nine in the morning. The smell of coffee lured him into the main part of the command center, and he took a seat. Everyone else was already there.
The major laughingly looked at his watch, making the colonel smile.
“One more day after today,” the colonel said. “Are we ready?”
“Yes, sir,” the major, captain, and general answered.
“Have you looked outside?” Sally asked.
The colonel looked up as he was raising the cup of coffee to his lips. “No. Why?”
Sally and the others were grinning, so he walked to the door and opened it.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.” Angel rushed out beside him and ran toward the machines. The colonel stepped out and let his eyes take in the scene. It looked like a winter wonderland. The ground was covered with at least a foot of snow. It was even piled up on the shield. Angel bounced up and down as she ran and played in the frosty white flakes.
Everyone came outside and laughed at the pit bull having fun in the snow.
“We didn’t get much snow in Georgia,” the colonel said. “She’s loving it.”
“Come on,” Thomas said to Sally. “Let’s play in the snow.”
Sally hesitated for a moment, then added another shirt and put socks over her hands. No one had thought to bring winter clothes. Why would anyone, in the summer during a global warming crisis in Central America? She walked out and saw Thomas drudging through the powdery piles of fine ice. She ran to join him.
“Hey!” Thomas yelled as a snowball hit him in the back of the head. “Watch the hair.”
“You poor baby,” Sally said as she threw another.
Angel bounced all around them as the snowball fight ensued.
Darren and Dr. McNair joined them, and for at least a moment, all of them forgot what a predicament they were in.
“You seem quite at home in the snow,” Darren said to Sally.
“You bet. I grew up in Minnesota. We had the harshest winters in all of the country. My parents are still there.”
“Ah, the parents,” Thomas joked. “I guess you’ll be taking me home to meet them when this is all over.”
Sally laughed and threw another snowball at him. “In your dreams.”
Dr. McNair mostly played with Angel. It made him think of his new friend, Glenda Eagle. He wanted to forget what lay ahead also, but found it impossible to do so. As much as he enjoyed seeing the accumulation of snow and everyone having fun playing in it, he couldn’t help but realize that they were fighting a race of aliens, aliens who had conquered space travel and the harness of solar power, and they were fighting them with flakes of ice.
Throughout the day, the soldiers also tried to forget what lay ahead and played in the snow as well. They made snowmen, had snowball fights, and even made ice cream from the snow.
As the heat rose during the day, it melted some of the snow, but not all of it. Over the next night, it accumulated even more. By the morning the shield was expected to rise, there was at least two feet on the ground and a huge bank of snow piled up on the shield.
The command center was moved north beyond the dye line, and the colonel watched with binoculars as the alien soldiers lined up behind the shield to await their next incursion. He smiled as he watched them stare up at the snow on the shield in confusion. When the alarm sounded and the shield rose, the snow came crashing down right on top of them.
At first they didn’t move. They just stood there covered in snow. Finally, they shook off the white powder and began to advance slowly through the knee-deep drifts.
The colonel had the men form the front line much closer to the shield this time, hoping to catch the creatures in the snow. He gave the order to advance. Jeeps sped forward and men rushed toward the enemy. It was working. The aliens were having trouble hitting anything with their weapons.
The colonel and Francisco had remained behind this time. The colonel stood up in the jeep watching the battle through his field glasses. He turned toward Dr. McNair and Sally, who were with the others behind the dye line, and gave a thumbs-up. “It’s working!” he yelled. “They’re actually shivering.”
The aliens still stood in the snow trying to aim their weapons, but the cold was definitely having an effect on their motor skills. Drivers steered their jeeps right into the snow, spinning and sliding in all directions as they bombarded the awestruck monsters with rockets and grenades. Then the jeeps would pull away before the aliens could react and circle around for another attack.
It was working better than they could have hoped. The colonel gave Francisco the word for them to join the battle. Francisco gritted his teeth and put the jeep in gear. They sped toward the scene.
The snowmakers continued to spit the plumes of powder onto the battlefield. Before long, the aliens noticed this as well and began targeting the machines. By midday, every one of them had been destroyed and the heat of the day was melting the snow fast.
By the afternoon, the entire area was a muddy mess, and the tides had turned. The aliens, no longer cold, began to hit their targets and the troops were forced to fall back. Most of the jeeps and soldiers were completely covered in mud, which had begun to dry into cakes on their skin, making it hard to move. The battle raged on until it became clear that the soldiers had little left to give, so the colonel gave the order to retreat.
Once all the soldiers and jeeps were past the dye line, the aliens simply turned to walk away. Their job was finished after all. They only needed to make the area safe for the workers.
Colonel Jamison watched as they disappeared into the forest. There were several straps across the creatures’ backs to support the frontal armor, but no real protection at all. “We have got to find a way to attack them from behind,” he said mostly to himself.
“Here, Colonel.” Sally offered bottles of water as the colonel and Francisco entered the command center.
“Thank you,” they both said.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work,” Dr. McNair said.
“I wouldn’t say it that way,” the colonel said. “It definitely
slowed them down in the beginning. They sure didn’t know what to think of that snow. Plus, they were shivering.” The colonel smiled as he thought of the large creatures shaking in the snow. His smile quickly disappeared, however, when he thought about how many soldiers he saw fall this day.
“I don’t think we can round up many more snow machines,” Thomas said. He looked at Darren and Dr. McNair. “Is there any other way to produce that effect?”
“What about fire extinguishers?” Sally asked.
“We would have to get awful close to use those,” Francisco said. “I’d prefer something we could use from a distance.”
Major Strafford came into the command center with a severe cut on his arm. It had been bandaged in the field, and not very well.
“I’ll call a medic,” Sally said.
But the major held up his hand to stop her. “I’ll be fine. What are the losses, Colonel?”
“I don’t have that info yet,” the colonel said. Then he looked around the room and noticed it was much more empty than normal. “Where is everyone?”
Chapter Seventeen
With another report of high casualties, the colonel ordered all soldiers with young children to return home.
“Just the parents?”
The colonel looked up at Major Strafford, then at Thomas, Dr. McNair, and Darren, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Captain Owens and General Echevarria had not survived the last battle; neither had Lieutenant Williamson, much to the colonel’s dismay. He realized now that the lieutenant was one of the bravest soldiers he had ever seen.
“What are you asking, Major?”
“With all due respect, sir,” the major said, “what else can we do here? It’s been almost two weeks and they have sent no replacements . . . again.”
The colonel thought about the question. It was a valid question to which he had no real answer. “What do you suggest, Major? Should we evacuate all of Mexico? Send them to the US? Then what? Send everyone to Canada? If they keep progressing through Canada, then what? That should liven up the immigration debate.”
The major didn’t laugh at the attempted levity. “I don’t know, Colonel. All I know is I’ve lost more men than I care to think about, and we still haven’t even slowed them down, much less made them stop. I realize losing men means nothing to you. I know that’s why they chose you for this mission.”