A crackle of gunfire lights up the smoke-filled lobby. Boom! Pop! Pop! Pop! Blood sprays, spits, and spirals as chunks of concrete ricochet from the walls.
Bullets crack, smash, and break the tile, glass, and marble. Heads cock back, shoulders spin, and knees launch bone matter as tears, blood, and hate are shed. Sweat releases from the spinning heads, and spit pours from roaring mouths. Wood explodes, and fingers are lost.
Sergeant Rivera aims his carbine at the chest of a Palomin and pulls the trigger, releasing the spring-loaded hammer. The firing pin ignites the primer. The round is propelled out the barrel, and as the brass casing releases from the ejection port, the Palomin dies. The wave of Palomin flows endlessly through the doors, windows, and openings, and eventually they begin to overwhelm the soldiers, whose magazines empty and supplies fail.
Crash! Zach kicks the police cruiser window out, and it tumbles to the ground. He looks out the broken window to see the Palomin attack focused on the building doors. Zach climbs out, and keeping low, he makes his way away from the firefight toward a café. He hops through a broken café window, then looks back at the building surrounded by a swarm of Palomin. He sighs. On the sidewalk, he sees a dead police officer. Next to his hand lies his side arm, so Zach hops back out the window, grabbing the Glock pistol and aiming it at one of the Humvee Palomin gunners. Bam! Blood releases from his head, and he slumps over the weapons system. A Palomin notices Zach in the café while another Palomin Humvee spins his gun toward him. Zach sprints and dives back into the café while a stream of rounds zips by, blasting through the café walls, tables, chairs, and bar. Debris flies everywhere. Zach crawls through the broken glass trying to stay in cover as he hears footsteps approach from the outside. He quickly pulls himself around the counter and hears feet land inside on the broken glass just a couple yards away. Crunch! Crunch! Zach looks through a bullet hole in the counter and spots a Palomin looking around. Bam! Bam! Bam! Zach unloads into him, dropping him to the floor. The other Palomin charges around the counter. Zach leaps on top of the Palomin, crashing him into the cabinets. Pieces of wood splinter over the counter tops. Zach holds the Palomin by his neck, pressing the Glock into his nose. Bam! The Palomin falls limp, and the broken cabinet is painted with Palomin blood.
In the distance, gunfire from the surrounded building continues.
Zach peeks out of the café to see another Palomin pulling the body from the gun and mounting the Humvee’s weapons system. While keeping his cover, Zach carefully aims the Glock at the Palomin and takes a deep breath. Bam! Zach knocks the Palomin forward, hitting him in the arm. Bam! Bam! Blood sprays out of the Palomin’s stomach and chest. The other gunner aims back toward the café, and Zach drops back into cover as bullets rip the café apart a second time. A hurricane of debris swirls the air and then stops.
Zach looks out the window. The Palomin struggles to load the M240. Zach seizes the opportunity to hop out of the broken window, rushing toward the abandoned Humvee. A Palomin approaches from the other side of the Humvee as Zach moves up behind the Humvee and stays low. The Palomin spots Zach and charges. Bam! Zach strikes his leg, and the Palomin loses his balance while throwing a punch, hitting Zach in the face. Click…click…click! Zach’s weapon is unresponsive. He then chucks the Glock at the Palomin’s face. Whack! A gash releases blood down the Palomin’s face. Zach then slams the Palomin into the rear of the Humvee. The Palomin falls to his knees as Zach grabs him by his head. Crack! Zach breaks his neck, drops the clockwork to the ground, and then hops into the Humvee, mounting the fifty-caliber machine gun. Click!
“Shit!” Zach curses, charging the handle back to load the first round.
The Palomin Humvee gunner slaps the ammo cover shut, aiming the M240 toward Zach in panic, but Zach already has the Palomin in his sights. Bop! Bop! Bop! Bop! Bop! Bop! Zach blasts the Palomin while destroying the Humvee, sending debris all over the road. A small group of Palomin turns its attention from the door toward Zach. Zach positions the fifty-cal toward the crowd and presses the thumb trigger. Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Zach lights up the crowd, and it disperses in panic. The combined army and SWAT unit lays into the Palomin with its remaining ammo and begins to push them out. Palomin blood fills the corridor, and the stench of iron fills the air.
Radio static erupts, and Zach notices a hand radio by a dead Palomin body.
“We…ar…defe…repea…!” the static radio barks out garbled transmissions.
“Finish what you can there. I have the boy and his friend,” Apollyon’s voice says over the static.
Zach’s eyes grow big with fear.
Port of New Orleans
The night grows dark. The dock is filled with barge traffic and ships from all over the world. Barge inspectors board ships to examine the cargo containers in a time-consuming, meticulous process. They lift the levers to pull them open. Inside the darkness, illuminated eyes of all colors open, emerging from the shadows as they pass by the inspectors.
“Please don’t hurt me!” one man cries, holding his hands up.
A Palomin looks at the man with kind eyes. The Palomin passes by with no violent intent. A second Palomin approaches from the darkness. His head cocks to the side as he observes his prey. A devious smirk appears on his face.
“Hello,” the android says with a rasp.
Thousands of Palomin swarm the dock, ready to make their way into the city.
Inside Apollyon’s SUV
“What are you trying to do? What exactly is your plan?” a Palomin asks Apollyon in an uneasy mutter.
“To save the world.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I was twelve; my father placed the gun in my hand. “Look her dead in the eyes,” he said. For every death, a person is born. I aimed the pistol at my mother while she held my sister. A tear dropped from her brightly lit green eyes. She didn’t understand. “She’s just a thing,” my father said. I pulled the trigger. The baby cried. It was at that moment I realized something. I felt regret. Why was that? Was it wrong? I looked into my father’s eyes; they seemed empty. I aimed the gun at him, pulled the trigger, and felt nothing.
The Speaker of the House of Representatives Christopher Hernandez stands in the shower, letting the water hit his face and run down his body. Outside the bathroom a swarm of secret service guards surrounds the halls. The glass shower doors fog up, submerged in steam. America’s chaos runs through his head—especially the death of the president and vice president. Everything falls onto his shoulders.
“Can I fix this? Can the country count on me? I don’t know that I’m ready for this. How does somebody get to my position and feel doubt?” he thinks to himself as water trickles down his brow.
A commotion stirs outside his bathroom. He steps out of the shower, dripping wet, and grabs a towel to dry off. He wipes the fogged-up mirror, revealing his cold stare. Thud! Thud! Thud! The loud sound of feet hitting the wooden floor outside the bathroom door catches his attention. Christopher is startled and hesitates to open the door. After a brief moment to build up his courage, he swings it open, poking his head out into the dark hallway. The floor is littered with the bodies of the secret service men.
“Amy?” he yells, confused.
Nobody responds. He wraps the towel around his waist. It’s quiet. He tracks wet footprints down the hall and approaches his daughter’s room. He stops outside her doorway and sees an empty crib. With a blank stare, he drops his mouth open. He steps into the doorway of the dark room to see a dark shadow standing next to the crib. He gasps in horror then turns to run, sprinting down the dark hallway as fast as he can. He passes by rooms populated with dark figures. He runs into the living room and is stopped dead in his tracks. A shadowy figure stands in front of him holding his baby daughter. Christopher’s eyes move around the room to see other dark figures approach from all sides. The figure in front of Christopher looks up at him revealing brightly lit blue eyes.
“Please, don’t hurt her!” Chris cries.
“Wh
at kind of person do you think I am?” the robotic voice questions.
A plastic bag is pulled over Christopher’s face. He bumps a chair as the leg moans across the wooden floor. The bag suctions to his face as he gasps for air. Bam! He crashes into a china cabinet, rattling the dishes inside. His eyes go big beneath the plastic bag as he sucks desperately for air. Christopher panics while grabbing the bag around his neck, fighting to get it off. The android runs him into the wall, knocking a photograph onto the floor. Christopher’s eye’s roll to the back of his head as he suffocates, and his helpless hand falls limp to his side.
“Is he dead?” an android asks.
Another android pushes its fingers against the secretary’s neck.
“He’s dead,” the other responds.
“Let Apollyon know we’re ready, and get this body out of here,” he orders.
Buckley Air Force Base
“Sir, we have lost communication with the DSP satellites,” an airman states as he stares at a large array of computer screens.
“How many?” asks the captain.
“All of them, sir.”
“Contact NORAD, USSTRATCOM, and the Pentagon immediately!” the air force captain says urgently to the airman.
The Pentagon
The undersecretary of defense stands in a command room. Computer displays populate every wall, and several dozen uniformed operators man consoles around the room.
“Sir, the missile defense alarm system has been knocked out. The satellites have no cellular activity. We are blind,” states a console operator.
“Contact Space Command. Tell them to fix the satellite uplink ASAP! And get the secretary of defense on the line,” the undersecretary orders.
“Roger,” barks another operator.
“Contact the joint chiefs and get USCENTCOM on the line,” the undersecretary orders to an additional operator.
“Yes, sir,” the other operator replies.
405 km Geosynchronous Orbit, International Space Station
“This is ISS, Space Flight Engineer Davis,” the astronaut responds.
“ISS, we have lost signal to all the DSP satellites. The spacecrafts Gemini and Intrepid are to be dispatched immediately to bring the satellites back up ASAP. You are to attempt a manual reboot of systems, top priority,” the voice orders.
“On our way,” Davis replies, letting go of a wall-mounted rod, twirling around in antigravity, and floating toward the front of the space shuttle.
The Pentagon
“Have you got the secretary of defense on the line yet?” the undersecretary asks.
“No, sir,” the operator replies.
“Keep trying!” the deputy orders.
Space Craft Intrepid Approaches the First DSP Satellite
Space Flight Engineer Davis enters the airlock and begins suiting up. He locks his pressurized helmet into place and connects the gloves with a click. Oxygen hisses into his suit while he faces the door leading into the darkness of space. The pilot closes the airlock behind Davis and seals it shut. Air whistles loudly then stops with a deep thud just as the door locks into place. The outer door opens as everything goes quiet, fading into the silence of space. Davis twirls toward the satellite; the massive planet is overwhelming in size. The illuminated city lights are breathtaking, like millions of little holes in the dark side of Earth revealing the light from within. Davis glides toward the satellite. The dizzying city lights spin slowly then stop just as he lands on the satellite and grabs hold of a bar. He lifts open a door flap locking it back so he can examine the dead satellite. The sun begins to peek around the left side of Earth with a powerfully blinding glare.
Washington, DC
Apollyon sits in the back of the SUV in convoy with another SUV, which contains Emily. The SUVs weave in and out, around the wreckage and past the crashed and burning vehicles, their assorted parts littering the street. Apollyon opens the sunroof to stand up and absorb the chaos that surrounds them. His face passes through smoke while the sound of screams echoes along their path.
“This is quite the spectacle, boss!” a voice from beneath him says.
Apollyon looks up into the sky with a stern look.
“Oh, but the spectacle has yet to begin, my friend!” he replies with a cold, yet hearty rasp.
A voice cackles from below inside the cab.
“When does it begin?” the peon asks.
“Right now,” Apollyon states with a firm and unwavering growl.
Space Craft Intrepid
The space flight engineer examines the satellite when something catches his eye. He lifts up his head to see a bright, fiery trail that appears to emerge from the sun’s glare as it arcs around the globe and enters US space.
“Davis. Are you seeing this!?” the pilot asks over the radio.
“Houston, this is Intrepid. There is a rocket trail entering US space.”
“Intrepid, this is Houston. Which direction is the bogey heading?”
“It’s headed east into the States toward the night side of Earth.”
Peterson Air Force Base NORAD/USNORTHCOM Command Center
The base alarm sounds off loudly while pilots sprint across the flight line. The planes are equipped with missile defense high-energy laser beam weapons systems and are on standby Alpha alert. Crew chiefs fire up the power carts and break the aircraft seals. Security forces rapidly remove the cordon ropes as the crew members sprint up the forward crew entrance door and take their seats.
“Engineer, start the checklist,” the pilot states into the headset.
“APU clear.” The slow whine of the power generator screams to life.
“Power good!” the engineer states. “All buses online.”
“Clear one, two, three, and four,” orders the pilot, and the four general electric engine fans spin to life. Within minutes, a column of aircrafts begins to launch one by one. Airborne crews await further orders.
The Pentagon
“Take us to DEFCON 1,” the undersecretary of defense orders. “Notify the joint chiefs, and alert the combat commands!”
“Set military posture to DEFCON 1. It’s time to protect our home,” he adds.
“What is happening?” a woman whispers to herself.
“It’s in these moments that we truly find out who our allies are,” the deputy says with a low voice.
Space Shuttle Intrepid
“Houston, this is Intrepid. We just spotted a second bogey.”
“Intrepid, where is the second bogey?”
“Passing over the Gulf of Mexico, heading north.”
USS Theodore Roosevelt Carrier Group on Cruise in the Gulf of Mexico
The klaxon sounds off on the aircraft carrier while pilots sprint across the flight deck toward the aircraft on the ready line. The alert aircraft pilots stand ready with engines running, waiting for a launch order. Ship lifts spring, bringing more aircraft out of the belly of the warship. “Launch the alert aircraft,” the air exec commands into the speaker. The orders are given as red-clad deck officers direct the launch from the flight deck. In moments, blast deflector raise, and steam catapults hurl the warplanes into the sky amid a cloud of smoke and noise. Moments later, the nose gear latches of two more fighters snap into place to await their order as well.
“Launch the fighters and ready Jackpot. We have a confirmed missile threat inbound US territory, 175 miles out on heading 352,” states the air exec.
As Jackpot is readied for takeoff, the exec orders, “Highcap sixteen, you are clear to intercept.”
“Roger, Roosevelt, we are clear to intercept.” Afterburners ignite. “Roosevelt, we are three minutes from intercept. I have the missile on radar.”
“Highcap sixteen is only gonna get one shot at this on your intercept course. You are clear to launch two Alphas when you get tone.”
“Roger, Roosevelt, two Alphas.”
“Then get out of there,” the exec commands. “Jackpot will take it from there.”
“Roosevelt,
this is Highcap sixteen. Unable to intercept. The missile has changed course. We are off station and RTB,” the aircraft pilot states.
“Roger, RTB, we have Jackpot on station. Come on home,” the exec states calmly.
Moments later, a high-energy beam from Jackpot pulses and creates a missile fireball 260 miles from the Theodore Roosevelt just south of Corpus Christy, Texas.
Space Shuttle Atlantis
Boom! The bogey explodes. City lights shut down in sections.
“Holy shit!” Davis shouts.
“Davis, do you see that?” the Atlantis shuttle pilot asks with panic.
Davis looks to the east of the United States to see a third missile trail entering US space.
“Houston, we have a third bogey making its way into the East Coast,” Davis says with an uneasy sigh.
Emily’s SUV
Emily sits in the back of the vehicle with her bloody head rested against the right door. Her eyes roll back and forth beneath the lids.
“She was pregnant, the woman you saved. You blanketed her with your body. The building caught on fire, bullets hissed by your face, and a grenade took part of your hearing. But there you stayed, roaring as embers and debris showered you. You kept her safe,” a male voice says.
“I didn’t keep her safe. She got killed,” Emily responds.
“It was still a selfless act,” the therapist replies.
“Selfless or not, she’s still dead. Perhaps if I did something different,” Emily adds.
“There is nothing you could have done,” he responds.
“You don’t know that,” she replies with a low voice.
“I know you risked your life and gave up part of your hearing in an attempt to save someone you didn’t even know,” he replies.
Emily Begins to Awaken
Her eyes open slowly. She notices her hands are bound by a wire. Breathing lightly, she slowly peeks to her left and notices a large man sitting next to her. He doesn’t notice she’s awake. Emily keeps her head down as she observes the vehicle’s interior. A man sits in front of her in the passenger seat next to the driver.
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