by Chris Hechtl
Those on the other side got only a taste of the fire but it was enough. Flaming animals rampaged into their own lines. The alien lines broke up, most trying to get away from the bright fire.
Hernandez stopped some of the defenders from firing on them, pushing rifles down. “Let em drown or burn,” he ordered them coldly. The soldiers nodded, eyes cold.
...*...*...*...*...
“We're getting attacked on the 60 front again,” Gabe warned a few minutes later.
“Smart or stupid?” Shane asked, turning his attention from the overall plot to the localized one Gabe was pointing out.
“Smart. We don't have that many sprinklers on that side and the damn aliens might have figured it out,” Gabe said.
“Razzle,” Shane said. “Strobe when they charge to check it.” He clicked his mike. “Sixty North prep for incoming. Razzle then OJ and area denial. Followed by mortars and sniper fire.”
“Not going to use the fire?”
“I'd rather use it to break another wave. Strobes we can replace or recharge,” he said.
“Ah.”
As the aliens made their way on to the on and off ramps and funneled their way to the wall he nodded. “Now,” he said into the mike.
Along the wall the strobes and flood lights flared to life. Some began to strobe right away while others remained dark. The aliens ducked and howled. A few made their way into the dark spots naturally. When they did more lights came on and drove them out with howls of dismay.
“They are turning,” Ross said.
“No, they are getting blinders on,” a sentry said. “Shit is that Creepling wearing sunglasses?!?”
“Smart,” Gabe said.
“Too smart,” Shane said clenching his jaw. “Damn.”
“So much for that?”
“Not everyone has them,” he said. He clicked the mike. “OJ. Get them to turn and then hit them in the flank. Save the RPGs for the big boys that get in close. Try to conserve ammo people.”
Paint ball and tennis lobber weapons opened up. Each paint ball or other sphere was filled with a mix of concentrated citric acid. Some was natural; some had cleaning agents in them. A few had other concentrated cleaning agents in them, like toilet bowl cleaner and anything that was caustic to the skin.
The bursts forced the aliens to turn, roaring and thrashing. One Hellcat shook so violently it managed to buck its Creepling riders off and then stomp them into the ground. It spun in place and then blindly gored a female that had wandered into its path.
Intermittent sniper fire picked off a few of the aliens. The entire front was breaking down as their charge stalled.
“Area denial. One round,” Ross ordered.
Air mortars shot shards sabot rounds into the air. The sabots broke up in the air, raining pieces of citrus coated shrapnel down onto the area. Each piece was lovingly spot welded and bent into a triple U so at least two tines were sticking more or less up in the air. When an alien stepped down on one it gave a bellow of anger and pain and limped off.
“Hot foot,” Gabe said with a grin.
“Not quite. Thorn. I'd hate to be the Creepling who had to pull a thorn from that lion's paw,” Shane said with a snort at the sight of the bull on the screen limping around.
“Think they will?”
“I think they won’t have the chance.”
“Mortars, one, no two rounds. Fire for effect,” Ross said over the net.
Propane bottles big and small were launched by spring catapults and air mortar systems. Potato mortars fired mortar rounds. The bottles exploded on impact or blew in midair. Each was wrapped with shards of metal that tore into the battlefield. Unfortunately the aliens had armored tops but it did wound a lot of them even so. The mortars finally broke the control of the Creeplings and Gremlins though; the survivors shook off their tormentors and ran off into the night.
...*...*...*...*...
Eddy frowned. They were just about out of ammo, and the citrus... he had never really believed it would work. Now he wasn't so certain if things were going to go okay, he didn't know if he'd survive the night. He regretted not having more weapons on him. He glanced around, and noticed others doing the same.
“Keep your eyes on the prize people,” Shane's voice drifted in the darkness. “We'll get through this together.”
Eddy nodded, but he made note of several tools that might make provisional weapons in a crisis. He knew they'd amount to spitting in the wind against a hellcat, but he felt just a little better knowing a fire ax was near for some ungodly reason.
...*...*...*...*...
They noted red, yellow, and blue glowing patches in the army. It was hard to make them out, and they went on for miles and miles around. Apparently Doc had been right, the aliens used it as both a threat display and to try to drive off predators. He could see more than one alien predator backing away when something suddenly turned on the lumes.
...*...*...*...*...
“I think they are getting serious boss,” Ross said over the radio net a little while later.
“You mean they weren't before?” Hernandez asked.
“Special weapons and aliens coming in,” Tom said over the radio net. “South East side near the cement plant on Eucalyptus.”
“Shit,” Gabe said. Ross had shifted forces to the 215 from that area. They hadn't heard anything from the apartment complex on that side for a while. Most of the people there had abandoned it in favor of the safety of Towngate. The few hold outs were probably hunkered down or dead.
“Ride it out. Let's see what they've got,” Shane said. “Alert five reserve squads to head over there,” he said.
He watched as Creeplings and Gremlins chased blinded aliens towards the defenses. There was a mix of aliens, but the first were Salamanders. The alien creatures roared in pain and confusion, rushing the area only to be cut down. As they fell their puss bags dumped out their flammable goo all over the area.
More aliens followed them, including Smokers. The Smokers were confused; they sprayed a noxious, inky mess all over the area. The squad leader in the area got the idea to light off the sound FX in the area. The blinded aliens turned in confusion, breaking the attack waves up.
Sheilders were projecting wild patterns on their sheilds with bright bioluminescence displays. It was dazzling. Other animals around them avoided them. It made it hard to get a bead on one with a scope, the patterns were blinding.
Those animals in the front ranks were either forced forward or were overrun. The bodies began to pile up. Hell-deer, small turtles, Shielders, Hell-hounds, and Hellcats were driven into the fields of fire to absorb mines and weapons. Then others followed, walking and climbing over the dead.
“They are absorbing our fire,” Ross cautioned. “Attritting our defenses.”
“Quantity, I know,” Shane said with a nod. “Gabe order the reserves to spray and pray. Start with citrus and then gas if it doesn't work.”
“It'll work on the herbivores. They can't see but they can still smell and hear,” Gabe said, passing the order along.
The antlered Forest Walkers, Striders, and other aliens that were picking their way through the tangled mess of bodies caught the first whiff of the citrus odor and immediately began to snort and turn away. Their controllers tried to force them back but they stepped over them and into the darkness or upwind of the smell.
“What makes me wonder is where the hell they got them all?” Gabe asked.
“The predators probably came with them. And remember they breed like rabbits.”
“True.”
“I think the herbivores were rounded up for this. It might explain why they are taking so long.”
“Boss, we're getting fire.”
“Fire?” he asked.
“Sniper fire. Inaccurate though,” Hernandez said. “Sector Four West.”
“Gabe,” he said pointing to the monitor.
“On it.” Gabe brought up the view so he could see, just as a light exploded.
&n
bsp; “It seems the Gremlins are trying to snipe the spotlights and weapons,” Ross said dryly. “They're learning.”
“Not something I'd like to see. What are they using?” he asked.
“Some are using rocks, others are firing Terran rifles and pistols,” Ross explained. A Creepling appeared with a colt revolver. It fired a few times, then hit empty cylinders. It looked at the weapon, peering down the barrel, and pulled the trigger. Its head exploded.
“Russian roulette,” Ross said with a smile in his voice.
“Hey, I'm not going to complain if they do our work for us,” Hernandez laughed. Another Creepling came forward and picked up the pistol. She prodded her sister then pointed and shot at a light. It had sunglasses on so it shot one then turned on another. The second shot stopped and clicked on an empty cylinder. When it hit all empty cylinders it threw the pistol at the light and knuckle walked away.
“Here they come. More of the Smokers,” A sentry said. The Creeplings chased packs of Smokers into the defensive area once more. The Smokers emitted an inky black smoke behind them. Hellcats and Gremlins tried to take advantage of this temporary cover but the human defenders weren't fooled. A sniper took each Smoker out, making it fall and then RPGs ripped into the smoke, sending it swirling as they exploded among the ranks of alien creatures, sending the Gremlins flying. The fire from the explosions threw the smoke up into the air and the prevailing winds dispersed it.
...*...*...*...*...
“We've got zombies! Can this get any worse?” a voice cried, rising in panic just as the last battle died out.
“Station, identify yourself,” Ross said.
“This is Station Three, 215 side. Um... South West near Sams, near the corner. We've got zombies crawling across the freeway now.”
“Hit them with flames,” Shane ordered immediately. He didn't want the worms anywhere near his people. He was surprised the aliens had tolerated them.
“We're doing it but they keep coming!” the voice said. “We're running out of fuel!”
“Boss the gas truck's stalled at the East end. I don't think we can get there in time,” Gabe said.
“Station Three keep pouring it on. Soak them, then flame. Dave...”
“I've got a truck in motion now.”
“We're almost out of fuel!” the Station Three leader said, voice rising in panic.
“Cut back and use sniper fire to take them out as they come. Keep cool. Use the flames to make a wall in front. Gas the moat,” the leader ordered.
“Roger.”
...*...*...*...*...
The Eucalyptus/215 corner collapsed after a half hour. The defenders fell back to the perimeter around Sam's club. Shane made the difficult decision to pull back the forces from that side to cover the retreat. Equipment was abandoned as people hastened to evacuate, up Canyon Springs Parkway, avoiding the entire Eucalyptus wall.
Panic seized some and they ran from their posts. Section leaders pulled things together and the near rout returned to an orderly retreat. They even managed to pull in weapons and ammunition before falling back to Lowes, Costco, Winco, the apartments, Towngate Center, and the mall.
...*...*...*...*...
“Got a big one,” a section head said waving and pointing towards the 60. “Big nasty customer coming up here,” he said. He was staying at the mall, watching things from the roof.
“We'll let's see what we can do about that then,” Shane said, reaching out for his son's rifle. Nick however moved the gun away.
“Dad, I'm a better shot than you, remember?” Nick asked hefting the rifle. “Not just in Resistance, or Call of Duty, or Black ops. On the range too. Or are you conveniently forgetting last year?” he asked. Shane looked at his son and snorted softy. He had forgotten taking Nick to the range for his birthday last year. He studied the boy, and he was amused to see Nick didn't even squirm under that evaluating gaze. He had matured a lot in the past year. All he could see was determination. Determination not just to prove himself, but to fight.
“All right Nick,” he said nodding. “Your target,” he said, pulling his hand back and stepping aside. The section head raised an eyebrow and then gave a miniscule shrug as the young man hunkered down into a classic belly profile, getting comfortable.
Nick took up spot to shoot; his father studied the target through his night vision goggles. “Just take it easy. Pick your shot. Remember, eyes, mouth or underside. Flank if you can't get any of the others,” Shane said softly beside the kid.
“Got it,” Nick replied, equally soft. “I'm going for that bull Hellcat. The one with the broken tusk,” he said. He had diamond tipped rounds so he was pretty sure he could hurt the bastard.
“Gremlins all around? Good call,” he said looking at the near by section head. The man nodded. “Call the shot Nick,” he said.
“Gotcha,” Nick breathed, watching the Gremlins goad the animal forward. It kept whirling about, trying to gore them but a trio of Gremlins was on its back, hanging on to its ears and sail, digging claws into it to steer it. They seemed to be bounced about a lot, despite toe claws dug into the animal's skin. One of the three was bucked off and trampled carelessly. The animal roared. It was dripping blue ichor from a dozen or so small cuts.
“Ah,” Nick said, “now that's a beautiful sight,” he said softly, grip tightening again. “Do it again,” he whispered hopefully.
When the animal turned and roared again he breathed out and squeezed ever so gently. The shot was as much a surprise to him as it was to the bull. The crack of the shot hitting its throat and tearing out vital blood vessels made the animal suddenly cough and stumble.
The Gremlins and Creeplings around it looked up in confusion as blue blood sparkled in the light. It squirted all over the area in a spray and then slowed as it oozed down the animals throat. Mortally wounded it stumbled a few paces and then fell, crushing a few of the Gremlins under its multi-ton bulk.
Its tongue lolled out and its chest breathed a few times and then sagged. Under it a Gremlin's hand feebly moved, claws scratching at the ground before flopping down dead.
“Cool!” Nick said, smiling as his father and the section head pounded his back and shoulder.
“Good shot kid, good shot!” his father said, grinning.
“One down, thousands to go. Think you can do it again kid?” the section head asked, pointing to another bull coming up behind that one.
“Sure,” Nick said, voice even. He was surprised he wasn't even trembling. “Sure thing,” he said.
...*...*...*...*...
Johns, Sams, Costco, Winco, Wal-Mart, and the school annexes were forced to abandon under fire. Lowes funneled the overflow by the back door into the Mall perimeter.
The warriors covered the retreat as the aliens rampaged through the buildings. Gabe used lights and auto turrets to keep them off balance and away from the retreating humans.
As the rear guard came into the defenses they slot into place, tightening the ever shrinking perimeter.
Together they watched bitterly as Sams, Winco and Western Towngate burnede. Firefighters used back fires to keep the fire away and put out embers with water stored to keep the wild fires from engulfing them.
Slowly the fire marched around the perimeter, engulfing the toy store, Target and then the medical complex South burst into flame. Shane realized the aliens were burning the buildings deliberately, denying it to the Terrans.
“Area denial,” he said to Wayne. The damn aliens had learned that from them apparently. Wayne nodded tiredly, listening to the crackle of the flames. He was wounded but still willing to work.
“They've got it backwards. Loot, pillage, and then burn. They are burning first.”
“Nothing really for them to loot or pillage. We pulled the people out,” Hernandez said.
“True.”
“They don't like fire. This is their area denial.”
“Yeah.”
...*...*...*...*...
Around three AM they saw high steppi
ng Striders come in, hopping over some of the defenses. Shane called a check fire, allowing the aliens through since the Creeplings and Gremlins weren't riding them. A squirt of citrus got them moving out downwind, away from the defenses. One even jumped on a roof and crashed through to the inside. Bob winced at the damage as fire teams moved in to put the wounded animal down.
Shane looked through his night vision goggles and grimly snarled at the sight of Creeplings and Gremlins on the follow up aliens back. A few held the alien Striders' trunks as reins, tugging or clawing at them to direct them. Others had improvised reins of rope or cable rigged to the animals. One of the Creeplings was juggling a water bottle. It threw it forward and when it bounced the lid came off and something poured out. It cackled hopping up and down and then threw another. When that one hit the two fluids mixed and burst into flame.
“What the hell?” a soldier said. “Molotov cocktail?”
“Their version of it anyway,” Shane said. “Firefly spit I bet. I'm wondering how the hell they got close enough to milk the bastards though,” he said.
“Who cares,” the guy said, tightening up.
“Intel. Knowing is half the battle,” Shane said, patting the guy on the shoulder.
The guy looked over his shoulder and snorted. “Sure thing GI Joe,” he joked.
Soon it began to rain fireballs. The Creeplings had got organized, or at least got better aim or better containers. Each would strike another in mid air, raining fire down onto the defenses. Fortunately many fell short.
“I think we've had enough of this,” Shane said waving to the heavy weapons squad. “Pick your targets carefully boys and girls,” he ordered.
They grinned as they hefted the tubes and aimed. One by one the Striders were taken out with bazookas. At first they aimed for center mass. The aliens were knocked over hard. “Timber!” A guy yelled cheering and pumping his fist into the air.
The Strider he had hit kicked feebly and then laid still. The Striders weren't built to take a bazooka hit. A few though managed to struggle to their feet and trumpet in anger and fright.