by A. J. Allan
But the annoyance he had with Li and himself quickly turned to horror. Despite the light show of lasers flying through space, aiming to take out the pollen, some of it got through and clung to the ship. Those aliens, whatever they were, were about to board Churchill.
“Churchill this is Apocalypse, Squad 7, come in!” Lt. Andrews shouted furiously into the comms system. “The aliens are about to board! That pollen is for insertion into the ship! Prepare your troops!”
A cackling voice came back with gunfire in the background.
“Acknowledged. Preparing soldiers for the noctura.”
The noctura. Like the night. Creatures of the night. Monsters of nightmares.
“Damn it that better be enough,” the CO muttered.
But it became frighteningly obvious that soon, that wouldn’t be enough. Many lights on the ship fluttered on and off. Fighters which dispatched from the loading bays down below got eaten up in a matter of minutes. And through it all, the Apocalypse could do nothing but watch as it got within range.
“Sir, what do we do?” Irons asked, barely masking the nerves in her voice.
Lt. Andrews went silent for a very long, very uncomfortable period of time. He doesn’t know. He has no idea. How the hell could we? When we’re fighting a living organism of a ship?
“Prepare to take out as much of the space pollen as possible,” Lt. Andrews said. “And pray to whatever God you believe in that the Churchill can take out the enemy.”
“And if it can’t, sir?” Li asked.
Dammit, Li.
“Then pray to whatever God you believe in that he’ll put you in heaven and not hell.”
They maneuvered in, now less than thirty seconds away. It wasn’t looking good. It wasn’t looking like anything. More ships were breaking down. More of the Churchill was disappearing, its systems failing. Lopez looked behind the great beast and saw it was currently in orbit over India. How much damage would New Dehli suffer? Mumbai? If it crashed into a Mass Media warehouse, how many tens or hundreds of millions of death would that result in?
“Fire! Fire fire fire!”
Everyone unleashed everything they had toward the stream of pollen. Lopez shut his brain off and focused on his turret, but just before he did, a thought crossed his mind. It’s useless. We have to get out of here. We have to escape. Get to the dreadnaught. Formulate a plan. Execute. And then win. We’re not going to win this battle.
Fight, dammit!
His mind closed off, the only focus the action in front of him, Lopez took the opposite approach of Kowalski, who blindly aimed his fire. Lopez picked his targets in rapid succession, aiming for pods of pollen that he could take out in one quick swoop. The strategy worked from the perspective that he amassed a great deal of kills.
But it failed in the sense that for everyone that he killed, another dozen came from the ship. It looked like the ship was almost giving birth to the pollen and the aliens within rather than deploying a finite amount of weaponry.
“Bastards just won’t die!” Irons shouted.
Just then, they saw a small shuttle escaping from the command deck. It was unmistakable what was happening.
“The general’s evacuating,” Jordan said.
Of all people to say it, the one in closest proximity to him was the one that made the most impact. The general. The leader of the ship. He was abandoning the Churchill.
Moments later, an explosion started in the Churchill. It spread throughout. Numerous fighters and other ships broke away, joining the general’s shuttle as they fled for some unknown location.
“Churchill Fleet One, this is Apocalypse and Squad 7, do you copy?”
No answer came.
“Churchill Fleet One, this is Squad 7, I say again, do you copy??”
Still no answer.
“Churchill Fleet One!”
No answer.
In front of them, the Churchill continued to explode.
“Self-destruction, or at least implosion,” Lt. Andrews said, swearing under his breath. “It’ll remain a useless hunk of metal in space, no working electronics or technology. It’ll remain in orbit for a period until it comes to Earth. By then we’ll be all gone, either on a new world or eradicated from the universe. God. Damn.”
Lopez dropped his battle focus. As far as he could tell, Apocalypse was on its own.
And that’s when an engine died and the ship began to lose power.
24
“What the hell??” Irons cried out.
“What’s going on?!?” Li shouted.
“We’re losing power in one of the engines,” Lt. Andrews cried out. “Son of a bitch. The alien in the turret Jordan had probably left behind some acid. Shit.”
We’re going to die. We’re going to become alien shit or we’re going to crash into Earth.
“Orders, commander!” Kowalski yelled.
A quick breath came, loud enough over the comms that made it clear Andrews had a plan but was just working up the courage to say it.
“We’re going to crash land as close as we can to Nellis Air Force base in Las Vegas,” he said. “It’s not going to be fun. I need everyone to buckle up as hard as you can.”
“Why Nellis, sir?” Lake said.
“I’ll explain it when I get there. But right now, just be grateful that the aliens aren’t chasing us.”
That much was actually true. Lopez looked around his display and saw the aliens remaining close to the Churchill, sending more pollen and boarding parties to it. Undoubtedly, he realized, some men and women had gotten left behind. They probably didn’t make it in time to evacuate. Or they were in the process of doing so but had run into the noctura. The ugly things that looked like they could tear apart a human with all of its appendages and teeth.
The thought made him shudder.
“We’re about to enter the atmosphere. I’m gonna shut engines off until we get below 10,000 feet altitude. I want to make this as soft a landing as possible. If we’re lucky, we’ll hit Lake Mead.”
“And if we’re not lucky?” Li asked.
Dude, seriously?!?
“Then you better hope that thick ass skull of yours is enough to protect you against the rocks of that desert.”
The descent quickly turned into a living nightmare. Even with Lopez strapped in, even with Jordan positioned such that he couldn’t move too much, both of them still felt hot and compressed. Lopez could barely turn his head, but he could see enough.
He could see the Pacific Ocean beneath them, the endless sea of blue, a nightmare to have to try and survive as much as the emptiness of space. In space, it was giant monsters that could kill you in about ten different ways, all of them gory and awful to think about. In the ocean, there were sharks and other creatures just waiting to take a bite out of your leg.
Strangely, though, the aliens still did not pursue them. Perhaps they really are creatures of the night. They prefer dark corners, the dark side of the world. We always avoided being in the path of the sun if we could on the Churchill. Maybe they’re no different. If so, at least we have the full day ahead to help ourselves.
The roar of the ship burning through the atmosphere, the heat on his skin, and the bright reflection of the sun off of the ocean dulled all of Lopez’s senses.
“Altitude at 20,000 feet!” Lt. Andrews said through the intercom. It sounded like he spoke from two miles away at a distant echo, barely audible and barely perceptible.
The coast of Los Angeles came into view. I was just here less than a day ago. Was it a day ago? I lost track of time. No. It’s not morning. It’s afternoon. We don’t have a full day to ourselves.
We have maybe a few hours.
“15,000 feet!”
They shot past the coast. Desert awaited them on the other side.
“10,000 feet! Irons, help me with the thrusters!”
The ship slammed as it activated frontal thrusters, attempting to slow the ship’s descent. Lopez held on to Jordan, but this was going to be bad. The
y would need a miracle in order to ensure that Jordan didn’t get hurt too badly. Or worse.
“5,000 feet!”
They were only a few seconds away from crashing into any of the mountains around Las Vegas.
“Shit!” Lt. Andrews shouted. “Li! Jordan! Lopez! Kowalski! Lake! Hold on tight!”
The ship began rotating, its controls shot, as soon as the CO spoke. Now it became a true nightmare—being disoriented made it feel like uncontrolled free-fall, as if they had let go of an edge of a cliff and were falling to their doom.
“Brace for impact! It’s gonna hit the lake, in three… two…”
Lt. Andrews had nothing more to say. Lopez could see nothing. He could only hope that the last thing he saw wasn’t the proper formal attire of Jordan crunched up on him. He closed his eyes just as the ship hit the water. Lopez lost consciousness.
25
Lopez darted up suddenly. Smoke surrounded him. He heard the voice of Irons ordering someone to “carry him away from the ship.” His skin burned, his back felt like someone had hit it with a nine-iron, and his hearing didn’t function as it had before the crash.
Before the crash… yes, the crash. He heard Irons. He had survived.
But would he still survive?
He glanced down—no, up—at his arms and legs. They remained intact. They went the way the bone structure required it too. His shins had some burns, but nothing that prevented him from functioning.
He reached for his belts to unbuckle when someone told him to wait. He looked down. Where there once was glass protecting him was now an opening. Kowalski and Lt. Andrews waited for him.
“Drop and we will catch you,” Lt. Andrews said.
Lopez felt too fatigued to argue. He placed his faith and essentially his life in the two soldiers. He dropped, his stomach lurched, and then he fell to the ground, bringing Kowalski and Lt. Andrews with him. But none of them were hurt by his fall.
Lopez slowly rose, giving his hand out to Kowalski and Lt. Andrews to pick them up. He stepped to the remains of the fore of the ship. Though intact, the ship would probably never fly again. Apocalypse Squad, as well, would probably never see the stars. Will we even see another day? I feel like that’s as legitimate a question as if we’ll get to space again.
“Where’s everyone else?”
Kowalski nodded his head about a hundred feet away. Lake stood near two figures on the ground—Irons and Jordan. Li emerged from the side of the ship, coughing. Li sported a nasty cut over his right eye, one that made it swollen and likely unusable. But he was alive.
Lopez hurried over to the others. Lake had scratches on her face and burns, but was otherwise fine. Irons had a gash on the side of her head and had a piece of cloth wrapped around it.
But Jordan looked terrible. His right shoulder was popped out of place, he had a severe wound on his abdomen, and he also had cloth wrapped around his forehead. His breathing was shallow, though he didn’t look critical. Irons was using medical supplies from the ship to heal him, entirely focused on caring for the man who had dumped her less than a few hours ago.
“How is he?” Lopez asked Lake, leaning in to try and avoid drawing the attention of Irons.
“It’s not good,” Lake said. “I think he sliced an artery. He’s present and aware. But he lost so much blood…”
No. No. He’ll be fine. He’s Jordan. Silencer. Besides, if he survived that ship crash, he can survive just about anything.
Lopez took a couple of steps toward them. When Irons saw him, she stood up and embraced Lopez tightly.
“You OK?”
Lopez nodded.
“Mav doesn’t die.”
He immediately regretted his choice of words. He suspected that Irons was thinking only of death right now, what with Jordan lying on the ground having lost too great a percentage of his blood to feel comfortable.
“Damn right, I’m not letting you go even if you get your throat cut,” she said with a wink.
But the playful, teasing demeanor vanished when Jordan gurgled. Irons left Lopez without a word and set back to fixing him up. The rest of Apocalypse Squad joined up, forming a small circle around them.
As far as the eye could see, they were the only human survivors out of Mass Media within hundreds of miles. The Churchill had turned into a giant hive for the noctura to destroy. Any human on that ship had perished or fled to some unknown location. If there was anyone left on Earth, they had probably fled given the impending invasion and assault of the noctura.
They had to fight the element of fear and isolation. They had to depend on each other. But they had more than just that element.
They had the dry desert heat of Nevada to deal with, smack in the middle of summer. And they only had enough water and food for one day. They had to get supplies in Las Vegas, but they had to do it before the aliens settled into the city.
In short, they had a near impossible mission to execute.
“All right, privates,” Lt. Andrews began slowly. “Here’s the deal. We need to move to Nellis Air Force Base. It’s about 30 miles west of here. There’s absolutely no way we can make that journey in a single day, so we’re going to go scavenge for supplies in Henderson, probably about 15 to 20 miles west of here. It’ll make our journey to Nellis longer, but we gotta do it, especially if Nellis doesn’t supply us what we need to do.”
“And what,” Li said, his voice dramatic. “Is it that we need to do?”
No, no, no. We can’t be doing this. Not here. Not now.
“We need to get back to space and find a way to defeat that ugly fucker before it comes to Earth and destroys everything we have here.”
“I’m sorry,” Li began.
All eyes turned to him. Even Jordan’s. Lopez braced himself for the one soldier in the group who least followed conventional protocol to suddenly make life a living hell from within.
“You saw what just happened, right? You saw how the Churchill got destroyed, right? How our leadership fled like cowards? How our hunk of metal is now just a free base? How they left all of Earth to die? How they left us to die?”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, Loose!” Irons said. “We are not fucking dying here without a fight! And I’m not going to take a fight that I’m going to lose!”
“Oh, really?” Li said.
“Yes!” Kowalski yelled.
“Oh, Mr. Hot Poland, Fred, you think—”
Firestone had his nickname for a reason, and he showed it when he erupted and went after Li. The two became entangled in punches. Lopez moved to break up the fight, but Lt. Andrews held him back. Let them fight. Let them get it out. Fine.
The two wrestled to the ground with Kowalski, not surprisingly, getting the upper hand. He delivered a hard hammer fist, causing Li to go limp. Kowalski stood up, kicked the ground right by Li, and swore as Li groaned and rose to the ground.
“Do you really think beating me up will make a difference?” Li said, his voice becoming emotional. “This is it, man! Game over! We’re not beating these things. We’re not. We’re going to die.”
He took a long breath, his voice on the verge of becoming sobs.
“I don’t want to die.”
He sat down, tears beginning to flow. Lopez looked to Kowalski, who looked like he remained angry to avoid showing the same emotion. Irons looked away, pretending to tend to Jordan. Lake was the only one who mirrored Li, her eyes dampening. Lopez was in too much shock to cry. Only this morning, he was trying to think about going into a hookup because of the military’s policies, and now he was facing death at the hand of an enemy he had no idea existed at the time? How the fuck did things change so damn fast?
“Eric, look at me,” Lt. Andrews said. It didn’t get past Lopez that the commander spoke to Li as Li spoke to others. “I can’t promise that you won’t die. I can’t promise that we all won’t die. But I can promise that I will do everything I can to help you. And I’ll help you by getting us to Henderson where we can eat and drink water. But once we help
ourselves, we have a job to do. We have to save this planet. And the only potential way we can do that is by making our way to Nellis. Now look, son. I’m as scared shitless as you are. I don’t want to die either. We all feel that fear of death. But I’m not going to let it stop me. Even if it’s screaming at me to quit.”
Li, with a sniffle, nodded. He’s probably never had anything harder in life than deciding whether to do Mass Media or the UGM. Relatively easy, all things considered. I’d probably break like that if it was the same for me.
“I won’t prevent you from walking away. But if you walk away, you will truly be on your own. You’ve got six other soldiers, myself included, who are willing and ready to help you however you need it. But you have to promise to provide that same level of support for us. Is that something you can do for me? For us?”
After a few sniffles and a shaking lip, Li nodded his head.
“Thank you, Eric. Sincerely, I appreciate it. The rest of you, gather around.”
Everyone moved in, their emotions more stable. Even Kowalski had regained his composure, going from active to dormant volcano. Jordan walked with Irons, leaning on her shoulder. He had to go back to the ground once they reached the lieutenant. He didn’t look good at all. He had trouble keeping his eyes steady, and his head lolled every couple of seconds.
“At this point, we are who we are,” he said. “A war-weary vet, a temperamental niece, a wounded warrior, a gay maverick, a scared philosopher, an uncontrollable fighter, and a tattooed monster. We’ve got about one L-36 per person, one round of rations, water for this afternoon, and each other. That’s it. The UGM? They’re not coming back, at least not as long as we stand a chance. The noctura? They’re definitely coming, most likely once the sun sets this evening. I’m not going to sit here and say the odds are great and we have a chance. I’m not going to lie to you. We are probably going to die.”
The honesty, instead of making Lopez nervous, made it more refreshing. If anything, the fact that he didn’t have to hide who he was around these six soldiers made him actually comfortable, not distraught.
“But as I told Li, once we do enough to ensure that we are fine with supplies, we have a job to do. We have to get to Nellis Air Force Base, procure a PWA, and then attack the enemy.”