by Chris Hechtl
“Shit,” Gabe said, watching wide eyed as she tossed a Gabe party popper in. The team was stacking up near the doors and windows, out of reach but ready to react on command.
“Damn, should have thought of that,” Gabe said as the device started to scream and flash madly.
“You did, oh you mean using it?” Shane asked. Gabe nodded. “Watch,” he said.
“I am,” Gabe said. The woman went in fast, checking high. She tossed a rock into the kitchen and turned to view the bot. It was in shredded pieces. Gabe groaned.
Shane rubbed his shoulder in sympathy. The view from Torres camera twisted back and forth. She jerked as her people started busting out windows. “Jumpy,” he said softly, watching her.
“Got your six, Torres,” her wingman said, coming into view and nodding.
“Good, Nazine, just keep a sharp eye,” she said softly looking. “Its around...”
They saw movement in the chimney. A head popped out. “Gotcha you bastard. The animal blinked and scuttled up the chimney.
“Damn, got a Santa!” she yelled on the team tac' net.
“Gotcha,” the outside guys said. “We're getting on the roof now. We'll light it up in a sec.”
“Nazine, Jeremy cover that. Pete, Meg grab the bot and get it out the door. I'm taking Ursilla and Quincy to sweep the rest of the house. Lucky this is a one story,” she muttered.
“Three bedroom,” Quincy said.
“We've got movement in the master bedroom. Rear of the house,” the outside crew reported.
“Gotcha,” Torres muttered. She snorted at the daylight spilling in through the open door to the bathroom. Plastic shards tinkled down as the crew on the roof tore open the skylight exposing the room to light. She did a quick check there anyway, nothing. She swept the other two rooms fast and then headed to the back bedroom.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she said softly. “Quincy, popper,” she ordered stepping back to one side of the French doors.
“Gotcha covered,” the bald man said, tossing a popper in. Bright strobes lit the room. Something screeched. Several somethings.
“Got a shot, taking it,” the outside crew said. “Duck!”
The view shifted as Torres hunkered down. They heard shots and animal screams. Something exploded on the edge of their view. “One down. One is in the closet. I can't get a shot. No joy,” the voice said.
“Roger,” she said. She nodded to the others and then rushed the room. They swept the ceiling and wall behind and above the door as Torres focused on the closet. “Here kitty, kitty, come out so mama can put you out of your misery,” she crooned mockingly.
Four red alien eyes glared at her from the back of the closet. It growled an ugly growl. She kicked the popper in toward it and then tapped the remote on the back of her right hand. The popper went off again, strobeing fast.
The four eyes closed and the animal squalled. Clothing flew in shredded tangles. “I bet it didn't like that,” Quincy said with a smile in his voice.
“Who cares what it liked,” Torres said. She holstered her desert eagle and un-shouldered her machete. She twisted it back and forth, reflecting the light off of it toward the cat. “Come to me you bastard...”
The cat rolled out of the closet and thrashed at her legs. She jumped back and the machete slammed down. She caught it on the shoulder and it jerked to one side. Quincy's ax swung into action and it hooked up into the thing's mouth. The animal hit the wall and rebounded dazed.
Quincy was on it again, hitting it this time in the abdomen. Blue blood splattered out. He hit it a few times until it was still, then turned to his boss. “Now that was fun!” he said. Breaking plastic from the skylight in the master bath made Torres look.
“Shit!” she said. They could just see something over Quincy's shoulder in the master bath. She yanked him to one side as another Hellcat came out, clinging to the walls. Its four centimeter long claws tore into the drywall as it climbed, heading for the darkest part of the room. It turned and sniffed and then squalled.
“Warn a guy,” Quincy said, watching the predator warily.
“I did,” Torres said. She watched the alien look at its sibling then squall at them.
“Popper?” Ursilla asked.
“No...” Torres said softly. She had one hand out motioning the others back while her right was on her holstered desert eagle. She'd lost the machete in the last fight. It was still embedded in the Hellcat's shoulder.
“Um...”
“Just wait...” she said softly. The animal seemed to gather itself to spring. “Now!” she said, drawing and firing.
The fifty caliber round tore into the animal as it sprang, tearing into the exposed underside of the beast and blowing it back against the corner of the wall to rebound and then fall to the floor. Blue blood and gore showered them. Ursilla winced and then started flicking blood and bits off her.
“That was fun,” Quincy said picking stuff of his own uniform. “Shower. Definitely need one.” He shook his head. “As usual.”
“Let's make sure this place is secure before you relax?” Torres growled. Quincy nodded. She eyed Ursilla. The big husky woman scowled and then nodded. Together they poked and swept the rest of the room. Every pile was checked. Fortunately no more aliens were found. Quincy was grinning at the gun safe they pulled from under the bed. Torres found a battered but still serviceable hunting rifle still in its case in the closet. There was even two metal boxes of ammo and some hunting gear hanging in the back. Score.
Not every house had a weapon or useable gear of course. But about a third had something that Kyle could repair or they could use or trade. Many had been used by their desperate owners but had failed. She'd found a few lying on the floor with spent casings and splattered blood as the only sign of a battle gone horribly wrong. She shook off her woolgathering and focused on the job at hand.
“Figure out what kind of Santa we've got?” she asked, touching her mike. She flicked blue goo off her hand and then wiped her arm with her left.
“Not yet boss. Waiting on you, Flamer is set up,” Tom said from the room. They looked up to hear him moving around above. “Shed's clear by the way. We got a lot of pool chemicals and garden equipment,” he reported.
“Got that. Anyone check the attic?” she asked.
“Nothing boss. I can't see any entry points for them. I mean none open.”
“Doesn't mean anything,” she said.
“Boss, if they didn't get in...”
“It. Doesn't. Mean...”
“Okay, okay, checking,” Meg said with a sigh. “Quincy want to give me a hand?”
“Coming,” her partner said. He nodded to the two women and then moved out.
“How's that?” Shane asked sitting back.
“Damn. Like... wow.” Gabe was wide eyed.
“The aliens move fast. Your machine isn't built for it. They attack from behind and above. A person can adapt. We've got some speed. Your machine has lag. Its great for a scout, don't get me wrong. Maybe good for a patrol, or to lead something off. But for day to day ops...”
“Its not happening,” Gabe sighed. “Sorry Torres,” he said.
“Not your fault Gabe, you tried,” she said over the net.
“Roger,” he said.
“Attic clear,” Meg reported a minute or two later. “Harvesters? What about the chimney?”
“It'll keep. Sweep the kitchen and the rest of the house fast. We pull out in five,” she said. Coming around the corner into the main hall. She checked the laundry area, then the pile of towels. “Kitchen and bathrooms. Get the meds, towels, and don't forget the TP this time.”
“Roger.”
“Someone check the inside of that couch too. Remember last time,” she said.
“What happened last time?” Gabe asked. He looked over his shoulder to Shane.
“A team thought a building was clear and a guy got lax. Sat on a couch and a couple of Gremlins were inside it. Tore him to shreds.”
“Ouch,” Gabe said wincing.
“Yeah, I'll say,” Torres said as she warily checked each piece of furniture. She dodged people moving in and out with boxes.
“Bathroom's clear, bedrooms...”
“Clear,” Ursilla said. “Nothing on the wanted list there,” she said shaking her head.
“Got it,” Torres said coming up to stand by the crew watching the fireplace warily. She turned to view the kitchen. “Don't bother with that,” she said as someone looked into a china cabinet.
“Gotcha,” he said moving on.
“Garage is.... clear,” a voice said over the net. “All units accounted for,” she said.
“Kitchen's clear. Go for it,” the last harvester said moving out with a box on a dolly. They had even pulled the stove, dishwasher and microwave. The fridge had been left as is.
“You hear that Tom?” She asked walking backwards. She turned, pulling the crew back.
“I'm all set. Merry Christmas,” he snarled as he flipped the cap off the fireplace with a crow bar and and then shoved a wand down inside. He flipped the pilot on, then squeezed the trigger.
Gas flowed through the hoses into the wand and ignited. Flames burst back at him. He looked away, glad he was in a firefighter suit. They could hear snarling and skittering inside the chimney.
“Not getting it,” Torres said.
“Pissing it off though,” Meg said looking in from a shattered window.
“Pissing me off you mean. We're wasting time here,” she said. Finally there was a second burst of flame. “Obstruction,” she muttered.
“No flames down there?” Tom asked.
“No, I think there is an obstruction or something,” she admitted. Suddenly a smoldering animal fell into the fireplace. It twitched and then crawled out. They approached it warily, guns on it.
“Here,” Quincy said hefting the fire ax. He handed the shaft to Torres who turned to take it. She holstered her Desert eagle and then took a two handed stance and swung. The animal groaned as she lopped off its head. Blue blood pooled on the carpet. “Done. That all?” she asked.
“You want to stick your head up there and check?” Quincy asked.
“No, Tom, get down here and put the hose up this end to be sure,” she said, eyes on the fireplace. They'd left the camera on a stick in the truck.
“Roger,” he said.
“And that's how you clear a house. You use a mix of weapons and try to conserve ammo whenever possible,” Shane said nodding a few minutes later as the team reassembled outside. “Good work.”
“We'll see if we can clear the block boss before shift ends,” Torres said wiping her brow. “I'm just glad they are tract houses. Clearing a trailer park... Now that's hell,” she said.
“Keep up the good work Torres, all of you,” he said. His radio keyed. He clicked it. “Yes?”
“Boss can we talk? We've got a report in and well...” He sighed.
“On my way Sheila,” he said. “Don't be so hard on yourself Gabe, worthy effort. And your Poppers are definitely a success,” he said.
“Thanks boss,” Gabe said nodding. He pushed the controls away. “We'll keep working on it till we get it right.”
He turned in the doorway. “You do that,” he said smiling and walked out.
...*...*...*...*...
Shane nodded to the others in the council. Jerry looked tired as usual, but in good spirits for once. Bob had put a lot of effort into expanding the infirmary area. Apparently they had just finished moving in.
“What's this about a college?” Bob asked. “Don't we have enough on our plate as it is?” he asked, sounding disgusted as he sat down. Jayne snorted softly. Bob had lost a lot of weight since they had first met. Mostly because of a lot of sweaty work and not a whole lot of food. Or at least not as much as the big man had been used to shoveling away.
“Its a combination school. Grade school, High school, trade school. I think some of us would like a college, but I don't see that happening this year,” Shane said shrugging.
“Why not?” Jerry asked tiredly.
“I think food production and water are our two main priorities after defense,” Shane said nodding to Bob. “Eric and the farmers have been agitating for larger commercial grade greenhouses.”
“Which we're going to start working on just as soon as we secure the land properly,” Bob said with a nod.
“How?” Jayne asked.
“He actually meant the land is there, we just need to clear it and get the wall up,” Hernandez said with a grimace. He pulled his chair out and sat down gingerly.
“Hurt?” Jayne asked, concerned. Jerry looked up.
The army corporal shook his head. “Sore. Muscles. I cramped up this morning and it hasn't completely gone away yet.”
“Ah,” Jayne said with a nod. She glanced at Jerry and shrugged. “Sorry doc, you can't have him I guess.”
“Thanks,” Jerry said dryly. He blinked and then sat up straight. “What do you mean by clear the land? I thought it was vacant?” he asked. He pointed to the map.
They had planned out the area carefully over the past several months. The vacant lots between the 215 and Day Street had been earmarked for greenhouses and farm land. Some people weren't happy about that, but that was inevitable.
“The problem is the damn aliens. Some of them get in the dirt and cover themselves up by day. We've got to go in and flush em out,” Hernandez said disgusted. “We had a couple of incidents,” he said looking at Bob.
Bob nodded, looking grim. “Remember two days ago doc? Guy with a severed leg?”
“Ah,” Jerry said nodding.
“Something big carved up two of my guys and snipped his leg off like a twig.”
“What happened to it? You don't know what it was?” Jayne asked. Bob shook his head.
“Gruel. We ran it over with a loader a few times. Did the whole field.”
“Ew,” she said. “Made a mess?”
“Yeah,” Bob said. He smiled a little though. “Fertilized the ground though. Real nice,” he said grimly.
“I bet,” Jayne replied snorting softly. She turned to Hernandez. “So... why not use the construction equipment? Just drive back and forth? Or that combine thing Walt cooked up?”
“Um, because there is a lot of crap there. But that's actually a good idea,” Hernandez said rubbing his head. He looked at Bob. “I guess I should have listened to you more,” he said. “I'll get Todd's crew. He's got mulchers on all his trucks.”
“Really?” Bob asked amused. “That's something to see,” he nodded.
“We'll get it done,” Shane said nodding. “Do you have enough materials for the projects?” he asked. “Bob?” Bob turned from looking at Hernandez and then grunted.
“A bit. Plastic we've got a plenty. We can probably scavenge from the greenhouses your teams have been finding and bringing in and of course the housing and buildings,” he said shrugging. “Structural material... that's a bit iffy.”
“The wall is sucking that much up?” Jayne asked.
“You have no idea what goes into making a thirty foot high cement and steel wall and trench around a perimeter that's what? Five miles now?” Bob asked. “Six?” he waved to the map.
“Wow,” she said. “Sorry, not my field Bob. I didn't mean anything by it.”
“I know you didn't,” he said. “Just tired is all,” he said, rubbing at his eyes.
“Do you have enough to complete the wall?” Shane asked, playing with a stylus. Bob opened his eyes after a moment and grunted again.
“No. We'll have to scavenge for more. We'll probably end up using rammed earth for the center of some sections.”
“Ouch,” Hernandez said wincing. He knew from experience that wasn't going to be easy. Not on the scale they were working at.
“About this school thing...” Bob said, dragging them back on topic.
“Its for everything and everyone who needs it. Right now we've got a day care as you know,” he smile
d at Bob. Bob's wife was the head of the day care centers. “But we need to move beyond that. We need to educate our kids. And educate some of our volunteers. We've got a basic school in place, but we need to expand on it.”
“Oh?”
“Well, for one thing, we need to formalize training our soldiers. Also our construction crews,” he said. “Ross is doing a good job but he wants some sort of boot camp.”
“Hmmm.”
“I'd like to set up some sort of driving course too, if at all possible.”
“Driver's Ed?” Jayne asked amused.
“You have no idea how important that is for some. Learning the basics of oh, say driving a stick, or a tractor trailer, or construction equipment.”
“Ah. And IT as well I take it?”
He nodded. “All practical stuff of course. Teaching people how to read, write, use a PC, CPR,” he nodded to the doc who nodded back. “First aid, maintenance, firearms, and working in general.”
“Having to train people one at a time is a pain in the ass. Some people have the most stupid ideas about doing shit. And everyone has their own way of doing it that they think is right,” Bob growled.
“Right. So we run the new people through a short course. Get them all on the same page. Then you can either slot them in as a team, or cherry pick them to fill in holes on existing teams,” Hernandez said. “I for one like the idea of training soldiers, even if I know its going to be a pain in the ass. Knowing the guy or gal next to me is going to hold his or her own weight and shoot straight is good. What Ross has been doing is good, but we keep having to skim off people to fill in the gaps in the teams before they are really ready. That's got to stop.”
“Exactly. It also gives us a chance to wash out people who either aren't serious or can't hack it. Let them get a taste for the job without putting people in danger,” Wayne said nodding.
“I'm for that too,” Hernandez said nodding. He was still having nightmares about losing kids who just didn't live long enough to learn.
“We've been running classes on an ad hoc basis,” Doctor Phillips said flexing his fingers. “Its...” he shrugged. “Well, so far its been okay but we don't have any formal facilities or equipment.” He'd taken in a couple of interns from his make shift biology class to help with the research. That was one of the only reasons he had agreed to teach. He loved teaching kids, but usually he shifted the day to day lesson plan on Yan so he could focus on more important things.