by Chris Hechtl
“I'm a little busy here,” he said, checking his rifle. He pulled the clip and set it down on the hood of the truck and then slotted in a fresh clip. He then picked up the half empty clip and took the rounds out, counted them and then pulled rounds from a case on the dashboard and reloaded it. The rifle clicked as the clip rammed home and then the bolt worked. He checked to make sure the safety was still on. It was. Good.
“Um...” Candace looked at Ben. Ben was still swiveling around slowly, doing a pan to get an establishing shot.
“You've got two minutes to make your pitch. Interviewing me in the field is not safe. You two are to stay outside at all times unless we clear you to go into a house. Stay on the street, in a vehicle or on top of the camper.” He pointed to the command vehicle nearby. “Do not get in anyone's way or they will run you down. We're on the clock,” he said firmly, all business as he checked the action one more time and then slid the bolt home.
He pulled his used brass out of his pocket and dropped it into a plastic container with a big 'used brass here' sign on it. “You recycle?” she asked. “I mean your bullets?”
“Of course,” he said. “Bullets are in short supply, especially rounds for heavy weapons. We can reuse the brass.”
“Oh.”
“We recycle a lot. Everything we possibly can. We're getting better at it every day,” he said. “Its not as easy in the field, but we're learning,” he said. She nodded. Ben turned on him.
“Quick and dirty,” he said pointing. “Command vehicle. If I yell at you to take cover or someone else does I want you two to find the nearest vehicle or that one and get inside, no arguments.” He turned to Ben. “And don't fuck around to film. Don't stand there waiting to get eaten. Move your ass. You can get plenty of footage later. Got it?” he ordered.
Candace and Ben both nodded. “Good. This is a hot zone. Either of you ever filmed in combat before?”
“Um... no.”
“I can tell. Neither one of you have any body armor or a helmet on. Not very bright.” He looked up at the sound of small arms fire. He turned, localizing it as Ben did. It slowed and then stopped. “Report,” he ordered over the radio.
“Clear.”
“Clear,” he said. He turned to the intruders. “Most of the aliens inside are predators or scavengers. Nocturnal. They don't like to be disturbed.”
He pointed to Bobby and his crew. “Bobby there is the lead harvester for my group. Don't try to interview anyone unless they are taking a break. Stay out of their way or they will run you down.”
“Gotcha,” Candace nodded, sober. Bobby was yelling at a team to move and load the trucks faster. He raced up the truck ramp with his load, parked it and then dropped the dolly over the side, jumped out to keep the ramp clear for the stream of people behind him. Instead of pushing the dolly he tucked it under an arm and trotted fast back into the house.
“That's a lot of stuff,” Candace said amazed.
“Food, weapons, equipment, appliances, tools, construction material, and chemicals. Anything we can think of. Even some furniture, bedding and clothes. Lights,” he said nodding to a crew pulling flood lights off the front of a house. They were even taking the fixtures and clipping the wires.
“Wow,” Candace said, slapping Ben on the arm so he'd turn and film it. “Thorough,” she said.
“Loot, pillage, and then burn. We're not to the point of burning yet, but we would if we had more water. Right now its more along the line of loot, pillage, and bulldoze. If we are in a hot spot.”
“Efficient,” she said nodding.
“We try to be. I've got a good crew.”
“Can we put a camera on someone's helmet?” she asked. “So we can see it from their point of view?”
“An assault?” Let me think about it,” he mused. “I'd rather you do it later. Set it up tomorrow. Give us time to prep and whoever wears it time to get used to the additional weight. We've done it before but its a pain in the rear.”
“Okay,” she nodded.
“Meantime you can pull the footage we've got from Gabe. I've got some camera crews here too. Or had. They are off today,” he said.
“You do?” she asked surprised. She sounded a little put out. She pouted a little. Yes, definitely put out. Probably didn't like getting out scooped.
“You sound disappointed,” he said making his way to a house that had yet to be cleared. It had a little blue gnome on the front porch. “We've got to get intel back to the eggheads,” he said looking back her way and then back to the house. “My wife being one of them. We can't risk them but they want information on the aliens nesting habits, so that's the best compromise.”
“Oh.”
She talked about the council. He explained while distracted that it worked because everyone knew their job and he delegated as much as possible.
Suddenly there was a bull roar from the back of a nearby house. He winced, immediately going on the alert. A pair of RPG weapon techs hefted their burdens and moved at a trot to the sound. He hand signed them to position themselves. They nodded grimly.
A bull Hellcat came out of a back yard on a blind rampage. The animal snarled under fire, thrashing its head and slamming through the picket fence like it wasn't there.
It paused and pawed at the ground and roared again, turning in place. Shane wasn't sure what it was doing but he swore when it lined up on him and the camera crew. He slapped both of them to the ground and tried to find a nice truck to roll under just as an RPG took the alien out with a loud explosion of fire, gore, and plant matter.
Candace was wide eyed when he looked at her. The thing had exploded less than fifty meters from them. He picked her up off the tarmac absently as he spat out crap and brushed dead bits off of him.
Ben had rolled to his knees and was still shooting. He looked over to the camera guy and snorted. Trust a good camera guy to not be phased by that.
“The best range to take them out with heavy weapons is about a hundred meters. That was danger close. No time to reload.”
“Shit,” Ben muttered, picking blue gore off his camera and flicking it away. He grimaced as some of it stuck to his hands. “I've got to shut down for a bit Candace.”
“Sure, um...” she raised a hand and wiped at her face and then grimaced. She shook her head and felt stuff in her hair.
“Yeah, you're kind of coated,” Shane said with a laugh. “You get used to that too.” She looked back to the dead alien. There were bits of shell and bone left here and there. Some were smoldering. A soldier stomped a fire out and then kept going on his business.
“Lord I hope not,” she said. He gave her a look and then shrugged. “Wash from the camper if you need it. Don't waste water,” he told her as an aside.
He checked the building and then came back and nodded to her as she and Ben got cleaned up.
She asked about other groups as she did a quick wash and towel dry. He suggested she talk to them. “But to be careful, the VVHS crew is bad news. If you don't believe me, ask that lady who we saved.”
“City Council woman.” Bobby interjects in passing.
Shane turned to nod to Bobby as he passed and then back to Candace. “Yes. Her. She's had some bad times with them.”
“Whatever happened to her?” Bobby asked slowing and turning.
“Doc cleared her so TJ put her to work. She's coordinating the trade groups and opening negotiations with some of the more... civilized groups. I'm going to put her on the shoe store contact team if she can handle it. She's also running a rape therapy group,” Shane answered absently.
Candace winced. There had been a lot of reports of that happening. She'd been lucky, Ben had stopped a group from gang raping her a few weeks ago.
“Yo boss, we've got a den. Pair or more of Hellcat females inside,” a scout said. He could barely hear caterwauling. The aliens knew they were in trouble and weren't happy.
“How can you tell?” Shane asked, straightening and turning to the guy pointing to a nearby ho
use.
“Cause they ripped out the dining room windows and we can see them. They look pissed. I think we just killed their mate.”
“Alpha male lion. Lovely.” He turned in place. “Yo! Tater!” Tater turned and waved. He came trotting up with his gear.
“You called boss?”
“Yeah, get your gear and lob a couple of smoke and flash bangs in there. Piss the ladies off good and get them to come out for a hot date.”
“Sure thing,” Tater grinned. “I love my job,” he said, hefting the barrel of his mortar.
“What's he going to do?” Candace asked confused. Tater was a big guy, and he'd just graduated to an air mortar that was connected to a pair of canisters on his back. One held propane the other had air. He loaded the mortar and then leveled the barrel at the nearby window.
“Fire in the hole!” he said. There was a 'Phut!' of flaming gas and air and a tennis ball sized grenade smashed through the window and into the house.
“Two!” he said, lobbing a second and then a third. The third shot went off with a loud bang and bright flash. Smoke was starting to pour out of the house.
“You may want to step back,” Tater said to Ben who had his camera on his shoulder. “Seriously man...”
He started to turn when there was a screech and roar and then the front of the house seemed to disintegrate. A pair of fanged Hellcats stormed out and immediately squalled, covering their four eyes from the overhead sun.
“You waiting for an engraved invitation? Take em out!” Tater yelled and waved to the RPG crew.
One of them flicked him the bird, dropped his cigarette and then hefted the RPG. He turned and with a flash it slammed into the lead animal, throwing it over onto its side. It kicked feebly as its guts poured out of it and then was still. The guy reloaded and then picked his cigarette up and flicked off some dirt before popping it back into his mouth.
The second RPG gal had swiveled at the same time. Her round ripped the second one near the shoulder and the base of the neck. The head was torn off and tumbled down the street as the body staggered and fell. She grinned and high and low fived her partner.
“Now that's how its done,” Tater said with a grin. He theatrically blew off the muzzle of his barrel. “Next?”
Ben was grinning at the show. Damn this was going to be good. Ben couldn't see the overall action so he climbed onto the back of the camper and stood, walking around to get as much of the action as he could. The crew in the office was going to shit a brick.
Candace was staring awed. “And this is a usual day for you?” she asked.
“No, actually this is kind of slow,” Tater said over his shoulder. He shrugged.
“Yo! We've got babies!” the scout said from the back yard.
“Ah, that's more like it,” Tater said as rifles began to open up and Hellcat kits screamed.
...*...*...*...*...
“So which one of you sicked that reporter on me?” Shane asked the council later that evening. The question sounded amused and conversational but Jen and Jayne knew better.
Jayne snickered and pointed to TJ. TJ held up a hand but gave Jayne a disgusted look. “Tattle tale,” she growled.
“I don't think it was as much sicking her on you as much as getting her out of our hair for a while,” Jayne said, swallowing her amusement. She shrugged.
“She got some good footage,” he admitted. “And luckily she didn't get killed.”
“Always a plus.”
“And I think the brain matter will wash out. Too bad we didn't get any in her, might have improved her blond IQ a few points.”
“Hey!” TJ growled glaring.
“Should have thought to outfit her before sending her into a combat zone,” he said, giving her a long look. TJ had the grace to blush.
“I, um...”
“Didn't think. Next time do. Its not like when we first started and were fumbling around. The other side was too. Now we're better organized so there is no excuse. And unfortunately the other side is also better able to kill. Bigger, stronger and nastier.”
“Bad?”
“No, Hellcat pride. A couple of Creepling packs. I think we missed the Gremlin. A few odds and ends. Light day.”
“You call that light?” Jayne asked looking at the others.
“Yes,” he said. Ross studied him and then nodded.
...*...*...*...*...
Psychologists and therapists were working with traumatized people to help them deal with their loss and with the nightmares and trauma. There were organized therapy sessions. When the therapists compared notes with the doctors they were actually surprised that some people weren't traumatized or hadn't shown it. A few muttered about being desensitized to the violence by social media of the time, games and movies. Most shrugged it off. “Its a good thing then, huh? We each cope how we can doc. We need people to stay focused and not fall apart. If they are moping and depressed they are no good to anyone right now.”
...*...*...*...*...
Jen read the latest census results and snorted softly. The group had gone over the entire surviving population. The findings were that mostly able bodied people under the age of sixty had survived the first night and made it to the mall. No surprise there. If you couldn't fight off your attacker you were meat. Half the surviving children were with one parent. Many only survived because of Shane or people like him.
She turned to see the night watchman. The watchmen went around every day before dusk, telling them to douse lights and hide heat sources. The same groups spent the night going around inside to make sure the mall was kept dark, quiet, and camouflaged. She shook her head. Her grandparents had told her about that. That during world war two the watchmen had been both in the countries that saw combat and even here state side. She was glad she'd remembered it and had Bill implement it.
She flipped a page and snorted. They had even checked on people's habits and wants. There was an entire page on people who smoked or drank.
It was simple. People who smoke go outside to do it. Many quit the habit right after the invasion. Mainly because the cigarettes were becoming hard to come by and no one wanted to go outside if they didn't have to. A few of the militia were still clinging to the filthy habit, more for the hit of nicotine to calm their jangled nerves then anything. A few had tried getting into marijuana but Shane and Hernandez had landed on that with both feet. Hard.
Drug use was frowned upon in the mall but usually ignored as long as it didn't affect performance. Not many people did it, knowing that if they did get hooked their supply was limited and dwindling daily. Drinking had been heavy for the first week or two, but when people still had to work worrying about getting drunk and attracting attention had caused social pressure to rein that in. It had put an end to binge drinking.
Most of the people who still drank were those who were outside a lot. Some of Bob's crew but many were the militia. She bit her lip. The guys and gals who did that day in and day out needed a break. An outlet to get rid of the sight of blood. She just hoped that they kept it under control.
She sighed as she flipped through the report and then tossed it onto a stack of others. She picked up her tablet and turned it on.
There were dozens of aliens and Jen was determined to catalog them. It was remarkable how they went through both growth and maturation. That boded ill for the future.
She found a note of a new alien. Or at least one no one had survived running into until now. It was a tentacle monster and from the sketchy report of it attacking people from below ground... very scary. They were calling it a Tremor worm even though it looked more like a flattened squid.
She thought for a moment and then snapped her fingers and set the tablet aside. Someone had brought something in. Something small in a jar. Doctor Phillips had tried to put the dead young version of something that still gave her nightmares in alcohol for future study.
She got up and went over to the sample case and checked. She traced her fingers over the markings checking.
Specimen... five... five four three... five no, five four nine. Ah. She nodded, picking up the jar and staring at the ugly thing bobbing in the liquid. It looked like an amoeba or snail, with tentacles and nasty teeth on the underside.
“What's that?” Doctor Phillips asked.
“There is a report of an alien creature attacking from below. I remembered Walt had reported something in the field near where that guy kamikazed into that Hellhound apartment complex. We thought this was some sort of snail, but if you factor in the aliens' growth it may be a juvenile of whatever is doing it. Tremor worm,” she said looking at the tablet.
“Is it? Hmmmm....” Yan came over and sat on the edge of the desk. “May I?” he asked reaching out. She smiled and handed him the jar carefully. The assistant and the biologist were fascinated.
“Do we have another sample?” Doc asked, sounding hopeful.
Yan shook his head. “No. At least I don't think so. What I'm wondering about is how this thing lives. I'm hoping its not like a Terran parasitic worm. You know living inside a person and then well... hatching out of their feces and growing underground,” Yan said quietly.
Jen shivered. “Now that's enough to freak anyone out.” She didn't even want to think about one getting stuck in someone, or growing in them. That thought of her not wanting to think of it made her shiver. Her imagination was getting the better of her again.
“And its completely unsubstantiated so let's keep that speculation under wraps. We don't want to start a panic,” Doctor Phillips said firmly.
“Agreed.”
“Yan, please put this sample on the list for a survey and necropsy. We can scan it and get it into the files and do a biopsy. A quick external autopsy without cutting into it.”
“Keep it in a tub of alcohol. If it hits air it breaks down fast doc,” Jen suggested.
“A good suggestion. This sample is small enough for us to do that,” Doctor Phillips smiled as Yan put the sample aside.
“What are you two working on?” Jen asked, crossing her arms and more than ready to change the subject.