Enemy Lines: Navigator Book One

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Enemy Lines: Navigator Book One Page 8

by SD Tanner


  Picking up the phone from its cradle, she said tersely, “What?”

  An almost silent voice whispered, “Help.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Dayton, Doctor Dayton. I’m an Oncologist at the University of New Mexico Hospital on Lomas Boulevard. I’m here with patients and we need help.”

  She knew the hospital well and had tried to contact it many times, but no one had answered her calls. “What’s happening there? I’ve been trying to get through.”

  Dayton whispered, “The hospital has been overrun by killers. We managed to escape, but on our way out we found six children under the age of ten in one of the wards. We’re hiding in the drug dispensary on the ground floor.”

  It was clear his situation was desperate, but there was little she could offer to do for him. “Where are the killers now?”

  “A lot of them seem to have left, but there’s still movement in the corridor. There’s only two of us, and we can’t easily move six sick children. Some of them are too sick to walk. We need help.”

  Before she’d sent everyone to the airbase, no one had been responding to their radios for at least two hours, and she didn’t expect anyone would now. If there were any police left on the streets, they weren’t operating under her command anymore. She didn’t have anyone she could send to help them, and she wondered whether the government workers in the bunker could do something.

  “Hang on. I’m on another line talking to emergency command, and I’ll see what they can do. Stay on the line.”

  “I’ll try, but I’m at the front of the pharmacy counter in the dispensary. If they see me then we’re all dead.”

  Hearing the desperation in Dayton’s voice, she replied with a false confidence, “Just hang on. I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

  Carefully placing the phone on the table, she sprinted in her stockinged feet to the conference room with the speakerphone. Leaning over the table, she said rapidly, “I’m on the phone to a Doctor Dayton at University Hospital. There are two adults and six sick children hiding in the drug dispensary on the ground level. Can you send a squad to get them out?”

  When no one answered her, she demanded impatiently, “Well?”

  “Umm…we don’t have a squad to send. That’s why we’ve been trying to get in contact with the police precincts. We’re trying to establish what forces there are on the ground.”

  “But what about the National Guard…and the Army?”

  “Before we were told to report to the bunkers, all military personnel were ordered to report in. They recalled all troops overseas, and last we heard they’re on their way home.”

  “Where are they now?”

  Again there was silence and then another voice said, “We don’t know. No one is exempt from this disease and getting through to anyone anywhere is patchy. Even if anyone answers our calls, they don’t necessarily have a situation report for us. The last time we got through to Kirtland Air Force Base, a cleaner answered the call and he didn’t know anything other than the base was in chaos.”

  The direness of their situation was finally becoming real to her. She’d ordered everyone to the base under the assumption the National Guard or Army would roll into the city and get the situation under control. If the secured command units couldn’t talk to anyone above ground who could do anything, then it meant no one was coming. She was alone in a city full of corpses and killers.

  Frustration overwhelmed her fatigue and she shouted, “How could you have gotten this so wrong? We’ve come under attack! We’ve been invaded! All you’re doing is sitting on your fat asses thinking you’re safe underground. You’re useless!” Her spike of anger was satiated and she added bitterly, “In fact, you’re worse than useless. You were supposed to be in control, but you’re not, and now we’ve got no way to protect our citizens.”

  A new voice, one she hadn’t heard before during the call, said calmly, “I’m Colonel Bill Ketcher and I couldn’t agree with you more. Tell your doctor to hang on. One way or another I’ll get a squad to you.”

  “Just how are you going to do that from a bunker, Colonel?” She asked skeptically.

  When he chuckled, she could sense his warmth through the tinny phone line. “I won’t be in the bunker. Excuse my language, ma’am, but there’s fuck all I can do from down here. I’ll go topside and find you a squad, or I’ll go to the hospital myself. One way or another, I’ll get them the help we owe them.”

  Despite only hearing his voice for the first time, she heard the steely determination in his tone. Feeling slightly less agitated, she asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  “Well, I’m sure as the Commander that you can handle a gun. For the time being, can you stay at your post? You can be my contact into the city. Once I locate the troops, I’ll make sure we get you out.”

  She hadn’t thought about leaving yet, and wasn’t sure she could even if she wanted to. “I can stay here and man the phones for anyone who is still trying to talk to us, but the doctor and those kids should take priority.”

  “I agree, but I won’t forget you. I’ll try and call whenever I can to keep you up-to-date on progress. I’ll also need a sitrep from you.”

  Not only was his voice steady, so was his thinking. It was clear he was already making a plan and, although she was aware it might not work, at least he was being proactive and prepared to risk his own life. “Okay, but, Colonel…”

  “I think we can dispense with formalities. Just call me Bill.”

  Sitting alone at the large conference table, she nodded as if the man was sitting with her. “Okay, Bill, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but I recommend you bring as much firepower as you can. These…creatures aren’t easy to kill and they want you dead. If they see you then they will try to kill you. There’s no negotiation.”

  Bill gave such a deep sigh she heard it clearly through the crackling phone line. “That’s the way of any enemy, ma’am, they always want us dead, and it’s our job to beat them to the punch.”

  Despite her circumstance, she found herself smiling at his practical take on their situation. “If we’re dispensing with formalities, then you can call me Jo.”

  A part of her wanted to keep listening to Bill’s steady voice and attitude, but she worried she might lose the phone connection to Dayton. “I don’t want to stop talking to you, Bill, but I need to talk to the doctor. He’s waiting for me to tell him what we’re gonna do.”

  “Go do that. By the time you get back I’ll be getting ready to head out, but I will call you, Jo, I promise. Stay near this phone and wait for my call.”

  She was already half out of her chair, but she leaned closer to the speaker. “You can count on it. Travel safe, Bill.”

  Without waiting to hear his reply, she turned and ran into the main room towards the phone that was still lying on the desk.

  “Dayton?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re sending troops to get you. Stay low and wait.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Hard landing (Leon)

  The plane was skidding to a bumpy halt, and a tangle of bodies was falling from the open door. Lexie had managed to yank him onto the platform, and was holding his arm with one heavily gloved hand. Bodies were still sliding past him and falling onto the tarmac, where some remained motionless, but others were immediately springing to their feet and running towards the cluster of small buildings. Once the plane finally stopped, Lexie pulled him with her as she jumped from the platform. With her fast pace, he felt himself literally flying across the tarmac.

  She flicked the lower half of her helmet up and shouted, “They’re gonna blow it. I can see the missile.”

  As they threw themselves to the ground, the plane exploded into pieces, and he prayed none would hit him. Loud gunfire could be heard all around them, and he tried to bury himself deeper into the grass. He had no idea where Tuck and Billy were, but he wasn’t optimistic knowing they could have turned, fallen from the plane, or been killed by the
explosion. Lifting his head from the dusty ground, he tried to see what was going on. A number of heavily armored vehicles were driving across the airstrip, and shooting at the men and women running towards the buildings.

  Lexie was cautiously climbing to her feet, and then she leaned down and easily pulled him from the ground. “Come on. You need to get onto one of the trucks.”

  Judging by the sound, they were firing .50-cal weapons that seemed to be having some effect, but not as much as he would have expected. Some of the running forms were falling to the ground under the barrage of gunfire, and then climbing to their feet again. Lexie was pulling him towards one of the moving vehicles, and when she caught up with it she waved at the gunner. The truck came to a stop and hands reached out to pull him on board. She didn’t join him, but turned and ran towards the running soldiers.

  “Don’t shoot her with the fifty cal. You’ll kill her.”

  “Roger that,” a voice replied.

  Now inside the truck, he turned to the man next to him. “What the hell is going on?”

  “We’re under attack.”

  “By what?”

  “Our own people.”

  “I know that. I was on the plane, but what the hell is going on?”

  “The cities are falling. People just went crazy and started killing one another.”

  It didn’t make any sense to him. “But how did we lose the cities?”

  “Sheer volume of the assault. It looks like at least half the population went completely fucking nuts. We’ve had people turn here too, but a fifty cal to the chest or head puts them down.” The plain faced soldier leaned in and said grimly, “But if you want ‘em to stay down, you’d best blow their heads off.”

  Giving him a look of disbelief, he asked, “What the hell survives a fifty cal round to the chest?”

  “I dunno, but they’re not…human. They’re built like black rubber. There doesn’t seem to be anything in them…you know, like organs. They’re fuckin’ hard to kill.”

  That explained a lot about what had just gone wrong on the plane. Nothing had seemed to stop the killers. An attack on their homeland was a serious change of circumstances, and he hoped they had it under control. “What are our orders?”

  “We’re being sent to the cities all over the country to try and take them back.”

  “You mean we’ve lost them?”

  “Like I said, the cities have fallen. Everyone is being deployed to the cities, but command is kinda patchy. We keep losing officers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The soldier gave him a worried look. “They keeping turning into freaks.”

  “Woah, check out that ninja!” Another voice exclaimed.

  Peering through the narrow slit in the truck, he watched Lexie hammer a running man to the ground. Not content to just bring him down, she slammed her foot against his head repeatedly. Whatever she was doing worked and the man didn’t move again.

  “We need more of that kinda action.”

  “Well, there isn’t anymore, she’s a prototype,” he replied.

  “She? Isn’t it a robot?”

  “Don’t be dumb, of course not. It’s a woman and it’s a new tech they’ve been testing. It’s crap,” he replied dourly.

  “Doesn’t look like crap to me.”

  “Well, it is. She’s blind and the whole set up drains power.” Pausing, he added, “She can’t survive a fifty cal, and when she runs out of power she can’t move.”

  Nodding brusquely, the soldier said, “Prototype or not, we’re gonna need more of that tech.”

  He supposed they would and wondered how advanced they were in their production runs. He remembered Lexie had noticed a man with an odd read on the flight, and thought that maybe her visor was able to detect the people who would go nuts. If that was the case, then they would need more visors as well as the armor and hydraulics.

  Between Lexie and the armored trucks with .50-cal weapons, they’d managed to bring down most of the turned soldiers. Some had escaped, but none had made it into the buildings on the air base. Being a small airbase, there was nowhere for them to convene, and he found himself being sent to another plane. After his last experience he didn’t really want to board it, but he was being sent to Albuquerque. He had just climbed through the main doors to the C-17, when he heard Tuck calling his name.

  Staring down the rows of seats, he saw Tuck’s dark hair and waved. “You made it!” When he finally shuffled down the aisle, he threw himself into the chair next to Tuck. “Have you seen Billy?”

  Tuck shook his head, “No, I don’t think he made it.”

  “Have you seen Lexie?”

  “Nope.”

  The plane was only half-full, and just before they pulled the doors closed, Lexie pushed her way on board. With her helmet off, she wore her thick, dark visor, and her short blonde hair was a tangled, sweaty mess. Pushing past the men at the door, she made her way towards them carrying several large rugged black boxes with handles.

  Puffing, she dropped the boxes in the aisle. “Move over. I need to sit down. This armor is heavy and I’m on half power to conserve my packs.”

  He flipped up the armrest so she would fit and moved several seats over. “Where’s Donna?”

  “She’s sitting at the back of the plane.”

  “What’s in the boxes?”

  “Power chargers, spare visors, repair kits…stuff I need for the gear.”

  “Why are you coming to Albuquerque?”

  “I need to get to CaliTech in California where the techs are.” Waving her gloved hand vaguely at her face, she added, “This stuff doesn’t maintain itself.”

  He had a lot of questions to ask her, and he settled back as the plane began gaining speed to take off. “Can you see the people who’ve turned? Is that what you saw on the other plane?”

  Donna had joined them, and she sat on the other side of Lexie listening to their conversation. He couldn’t see Lexie’s eyes under the thick, dark visor, but she sounded almost bored when she replied, “Everything on the planet emits a different signal. The techs have managed to isolate hundreds of different signals, and the scanners inside the visor reads them. The onboard computer interprets the signals for me. I can’t see exactly, but I have a grid with outlines and blobs that represent objects and people to me.”

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  Sighing, she replied, “Some people are emitting a signal that’s showing as a…green sort of blob. People shouldn’t look like that through my visor. Right now I can see you as a pale, pinkish sort of shape.” Touching his arm, she added, “And if I touch you I can read your physical status. Your heart rate, blood pressure, temperature and oxygen levels. When I touch the green blobs, I don’t get a read. It’s like they’re dead, only they’re still moving.”

  Giving her a worried look, he asked, “Are there any green blobs on this plane?”

  Lexie shook her head. “No, but there weren’t on the last plane when we left either.”

  “When did they show up?”

  “I don’t know. I had my visor on limited scan to conserve power.”

  While they’d been talking, Donna had opened one of the rugged boxes and was clearly checking the contents. Leaning across Lexie’s armored legs, he asked, “Donna, what’s in California?”

  “The main design and development labs for this gear.”

  “Do you work with Lexie?”

  “I’m what they call a ‘handler’. It’s my job to keep her and her gear working. Her shadow nav, Ark, is back at CaliTech in the underground command center. He helps to interpret what she’s seeing through her visor and directs her during combat.”

  He was beginning to understand a Navigator wasn’t simply a heavily armored individual with advanced vision, and they relied on a team to keep them operational and effective. “How many Navigators are there?”

  “It depends on what you call a Navigator. There are shadow navs that are based in the main lab. They u
se the satellites to take a direct feed from the visors. Then there are navs only capable of using the visors and not the armor. There’s also several types of armor in prototype. Lexie is in light armor with mid-range hydraulics. We have heavier armor and hydraulics with different weapons systems, but they don’t move too fast.”

  Lexie snorted. “She’s talking about the ‘tanks’. They’re basically heavy duty armor and hydraulics with massive firepower, but they move so slowly I call them turtles.”

  By now a small group of men and women had formed around their seats, and they were trying to listen to their conversation. One man was leaning over the back of the chair in front of him and he said, “We’re gonna need massive firepower. Our standard weapons have no effect on whatever these things are. Even a fifty cal struggles to get them down.”

  Tapping Donna on the arm to get her attention again, he asked, “How much kit is in California?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I do know they were training people and shipping raw materials to ramp production, but it got put on hold when the army threatened to cancel the contract.”

  “How hard is it to learn how to use the gear?” The other man asked.

  “It depends on what kind of nav you wanna be. Fully functioning like Lexie takes at least six months, but you can learn to use a visor in a matter of a month, and the tanks just need to be fit.”

  With a sharp exclamation of disgust, Lexie said bluntly, “As long as you’re okay with having your eyeballs replaced.” When no one spoke, she added, “That’s why I have to get back to CaliTech. I need to be near the techs. What Donna isn’t telling you is that the gear is buggy as hell. The software and firmware have conflicts and they’re still working on it. My software will already be out-of-date, and I’ll need to get the latest version when I get back to the labs.”

 

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