Overrun

  “Center all attack on the larger units!" Bullet Leader's voice came back across the communications link. "Gunners continue to fire. Repeat. Gunners continue to fire. Pilots bring the units back in. Full-scale retreat!"

  "Safety zone twenty miles!" Watch Tower yelled into his wrist. "Say again! Safety zone twenty miles! Death Wall ignition in two minutes."

  An entire fleet of the large transport vehicles became visible from beneath the flying grit obscuring the battle below. Like submarines skimming just below the water's surface, the top of the structures jutted ominously through the billowing black smoke.

  As if a singular foot reached from the heavens and slammed their brake pedals to the floor, the Bullet vehicles spun about in coordinated unison as soon as the order to withdraw was given.

  Some catapulted across their sides and burst into flames while others were crushed by the mammoth wheels of the advancing transports.

  Cannon fire from the smaller vehicles slapped harmlessly off the transports’ heavy armor as the land fleet made its panicked retreat.

  Return artillery bursts from the transports picked at the smaller Bullet units transforming them one by one into bright balls of light that wounded deeply the surrounding earth.

  "Lock down the dome!" Watch Tower yelled to the lookout manning the controls. "Get the concussion shields down immediately. Be ready to lower them completely on my mark. We're going to need to leave the bay area exposed until we get the team back in! Those transports are going to be following close behind!"

  The sentry didn't look up. Only the increased ferocity of his hands across the controls signaled acknowledgement of Watch Tower's latest command.

  "Bullet Leader," Watch Tower barked into the comlink again. "We're keeping the landing bay open as long as we can. You've got a twenty-mile safe zone when it goes off. And we're going to have to seal the doors at least fifteen seconds before that. If the shields aren't down when the Death Wall goes up, the whole facility could go down!"

  "We hear you Watch Tower," Bullet Leader’s voice came again from Watch Tower's wrist communication link. A calmness had replaced the controlled panic in his voice. "Keep those bay doors open as long as you can. Light up the wall the instant that first transport reaches the safe zone. Any one of those gets through, everyone will be dead…not just us."

  "Acknowledged Bullet Leader," Watch Tower said solemnly and lowered his wrist.

  He picked up his extended glasses and pointed them back towards the battlefield. Amidst the fires and mountains of dark smoke, he watched the land fleet race for their lives towards the landing bay.

  The J.G.U. transports chased closely behind spitting cannon fire and letting loose the red flaming tails of hundreds of fired rockets to further enlighten the battle-plagued night.

  Watch Tower lowered his glasses one last time and pulled his wrist back to his face.

  "You guys are really going to have to hurry," he said softly into the mike.

  Chapter 38

  Brandon staggered once and dropped to one knee. Kirken let go of his daughter and without standing moved next to him. Brandon leaned against his shoulder and slid to the floor finally resting his head in Kirken's hands.

  The fires on the level below cast an eerie flicker across their faces. The light grew brighter with each passing second as the flames quickly spread throughout the building.

  Mel stood and positioned herself on Brandon's other side. Lightly, she picked up his hand. Thick blood from his wounds quickly covered her own. Brandon smiled up at her weakly and returned her grip. His limbs shook slightly from the shock settling over his body.

  A tear slid slowly down the side of Mel's cheek. She tried to hide it by turning her face away. When she looked back, Kirken was staring down at the bloody form he held in his arms.

  Brandon’s eyes had become hard and vacant like two impenetrable shields left to guard the entrance to an empty room. When he blinked, they moved awkwardly sticking out on his face like two huge saucers of cold stone.

  Brandon coughed twice causing his body to shake harder in Kirken's grip. Thin lines of blood colored his teeth and trailed out past his dry lips.

  "We're still going up," Kirken leaned toward Brandon and whispered loudly into his ear. "And right now, you're going to stand. Right now. Do you understand me, Brandon?"

  Brandon's eyes rolled up into the back of his head. Another series of coughs brought more blood from where one of the bullets had clipped the corner edge of his left lung. His throat wheezed hoarsely when he tried to talk back. His legs kicked weakly about as his body struggled to stand.

  "Right now, Brandon. They're almost here."

  The loud roar of air assault plane engines rumbled outside shaking the building's sides and causing the windows all around them to shatter and break. Fresh explosions sounded from the distance.

  "Whether there's anyone out there to get us or not, we're going up," Kirken whispered again defiantly. His words were a violent hiss. "Don't waste everything we've done by making us stop here."

  Brandon's eyes came back and rested on Kirken. His mouth set in a grim expressionless line, but his gaze could not conceal the pain his body felt.

  Kirken and Mel each grabbed him around the waist and carefully hauled him upright. Despite their support on his either side, Brandon staggered and nearly fell when he tried to center his weight. They stayed there for a moment and waited for his legs to steady. A few short minutes later, he was able to stand fully and move slowly about on his own.

  Kirken picked up one of the rifles fallen near him and led his children out again into the foreboding shadows of the ancient mall. Mel followed after Brandon holding her hand against his back to steady his step.

  The sound of the approaching firebomb team still thundered ominously from outside overhead.

  Chapter 39

  Watch Tower nervously watched the Bullet land fleet race back towards the dome. Even from his perch high atop the observation post, he could still hear the tortured screams of the Bullet engines.

  Some exploded. Others stopped still as their pilots revved them past their limits trying to outrun the chasing transports and reach the safety zone before the Death Wall was lit.

  Smaller J.G.U. vehicles appeared from the darkness alongside the larger transports. Large bursts of cannon fire roared from their sides and chased the Bullet team further from the night.

  "Wall ignition in ten seconds," Watch Tower spoke quietly into his wrist.

  Very few of the land fleet had reached the protective zone which would offer them harbor from the blast. The dome-killer transports trailed doggedly behind the ones that had managed to make it close.

  "Land team acknowledge," Bullet Leader's voice came back. "Transports close to breaching the perimeter…" A loud burst of static temporarily drowned out his voice. "…don’t wait for us to get in…ignite when ready…"

  "Five seconds," one of the observation sentries said quietly next to Watch Tower. Two others lowered their glasses and turned away.

  Only a handful of the vehicles had reached the twenty-mile boundary guarding the outside of the dome. Some entered the zone riding the red tails of fired rockets and exploded into flames once within.

  "Ignite on this mark," Watch Tower whispered into the comlink and then dropped his wrist. "Ignition now."

  When the final command left his lips, he lowered his glasses and closed his eyes.

  The initial blast rocked the observation platform and threw everyone down hard to the deck. Watch Tower pulled himself from the tangle of fallen bodies and stood back against the rails.

  With more megatons than previous world armies combined, he watched the shield of fire erupt from the detonation of special large-scale missile explosives embedded deep within the earth almost twenty miles away.

  Designed to blast up and explode out, mammoth flames flew like reaching hands of death towards Beuford. Its hungry fires devoured the advancing J.G.U. convoy lying in its path while leaving the dome undamaged in
its protective wake.

  In an instant, the ten or more transports that had almost breached the safe zone perimeter were gone.

  The darkness that had been the night immediately changed to day.

  The few Bullet vehicles that had crossed into the zone were jettisoned into the air by the force of the blast and hurled towards SD15's base. Their small frames crashed end over end along the ground.

  Many exploded while others laid smoking and still. Some pilots turned their vehicles around to rescue the scattered few that managed to pull themselves alive from the searing twists of jagged metal.

  The remaining survivors streaked towards the dome where thick metal blast doors covering the landing bay slowly opened in front of them. The rectangular bay echoed with the tortured cries of the Bullets' over-revved engines and the thunder of the fiery destruction raging behind them.

  The doors were open for less than a minute before slamming down again to block the intense heat.

  Steam, small fires and smoke wisped upwards from the engine compartments of the vehicles that managed to slip inside. Crews moved slowly about within their cabins.

  Cold air and water fell from a web of piping and vents overhead to douse the charred wreckage they had piloted from the flames.

  At the top of the dome, Watch Tower bowed his head and said a silent prayer that more men than he had actually seen survived the blasts and made it inside.

  Chapter 40

  Tuttle felt his heart drop further into the depths of his stomach when the first planes appeared. First in singles, then in pairs, an entire squadron of assault aircraft punched through the low-hanging cloud cover that obscured the night sky.

  Even above the loud churn of the helicopter blades, all three men could hear, even feel, the massive thunder their engines left booming through the air behind. One after the other the firebomb attack jets roared past them towards the far side of the city where the fires still brightly burned.

  "Head for the northwest end of the rooftop," Tuttle instructed the pilot. "Keep as close to the ground as you can.”

  Rockets streaked from the wingtips of the jets leading the firebomb team. Riding the wings of orange and yellow tails, the missiles sailed towards the troops and vehicles that jammed the streets.

  More than a hundred of the assault aircraft dropped into view through the clouds. They separated into two distinct squadrons which swung out to conduct attack runs from the city's opposite sides.

  Starting with small sections on the outskirts and then moving further inward, the air team buried the ruined city in fire like whole rivers of spewing lava had dropped from the sky.

  Five of the assault planes broke from the main group towards the vehicle convoy heading away from the burning town. Each dropped their fiery loads across the jammed roadways before pulling straight up and away to ready for another run.

  Tuttle pulled his eyes away from the destruction to watch the shape of the Beuford mall approaching quickly in the distance. Its rooftop loomed dark, empty and ominous directly ahead.

  "They're there alright," Piper's voice broke through his thoughts. "The building's first four levels are completely on fire. There’s also a whole lot of trucks and jeeps heading that way."

  Tuttle turned his attention down toward a line of vehicles lumbering down the empty streets of the deserted blocks.

  "They could be evacuating away from the bombing attack."

  "Not likely," Piper said while pulling three lines of thick cable from an overhead compartment. With quick even thrusts of his wrist, he wrapped them around his waist and bent to secure them to the deck. "They're way too far out for that. "

  Piper looked up at the explosions tearing through the city blocks and leaned quickly back to test the strength of his lines. When he came forward again he threw open the helicopter's side door. He rotated the heavy assault cannon around on its base and pointed its thick tip through the opening.

  The mall rooftop still appeared peaceful and dark. Not even the glow of the surrounding flames seemed enough to interrupt its quiet serenity.

  The pilot brought the helicopter’s skids close over the side of the building and hovered just above the rooftop.

  Still there was no sign.

  "I got nothing over here," Piper screamed from the chopper’s side. The churning wind beneath the blades overhead mostly drowned out his voice. "And that ground team is getting real close."

  Tuttle didn't answer him right away. He pressed a pair of extended range glasses to his eyes and scanned them along the rooftop. He took them away from his face and forcefully blinked his eyes. He then pressed them back and looked over the area again.

  "We're not abandoning them, sir," Piper spoke to him as if in answer to his thoughts. His tone was quiet and somber even through the cockpit transmitters. "You kept your word by just being here. This man would understand that you tried…"

  Tuttle closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the rhythmic hammer of the helicopter's rotor blades.

  "By not being up here, we can assume he's probably already dead…and so is his family,” Piper said again after a several-second pause. “We won't be leaving anyone behind."

  "I know," Tuttle said softly and lowered his glasses.

  "Sir, we need to go. He’s not here. We need to go now."

  "I know," Tuttle said again.

  Tuttle was about to order the pilot to turn back when bursts of cannon fire somewhere to the right of the craft jerked his attention around. Piper swung the heavy cannon hard about to its other side and searched for its source.

  Less than fifty feet away, a door burst open from one of the side walls surrounding the rooftop revealing the shapes of three figures stumbling through a thick layer of smoke. They staggered through the opening holding their hands above their heads.

  Splintered wood and chipped concrete exploded around them from chasing gunfire.

  "Over there! Over there!" Tuttle screamed at the pilot.

  Soot, scorched clothing and dark layers of blood darkened all their skin. One of the figures half-dragged, half-carried the sagging form of another.

  Tuttle couldn't distinguish which one was Kirken and which one was his son. Both fell forward. One held the other tightly in his arms.

  The third figure slammed the door shut behind them and bent down to haul them both to their feet.

  Piper squared his shoulders behind the cannon and aimed it towards the door.

  Covering their eyes against the rush of air from the chopper blades, all three limped across the roof towards the assault helicopter. The two men moved slowly ahead while the smaller shape of the daughter followed closely behind.

  Kirken and his son both staggered twice more and fell. The daughter pulled them both up and prodded them to walk again.

  A quarter length of the roof and a large glass observatory window in the rooftop deck separated the trio from the hovering chopper. They stopped just before the glass. The one being carried tumbled from the other's grip.

  The pilot dropped the helicopter down even closer to the rooftop. Tuttle quickly undid his straps, threw open the door and leapt out.

  Landing on his feet about twenty yards from the opposite edge of the window observatory, Tuttle slung his rifle across his back and sprinted towards them. He was almost to the glass when the door through which they had just come disintegrated in a white flash of flames and twisted metal.

  The three figures dropped to the ground while cannon fire raked the air over their heads. Small pieces of the surrounding walls torn loose from the shots dropped down around and covered them with a thin layer of chalky debris.

  Tuttle dove down onto his stomach and crawled behind one of the many steel girders that jutted from the rooftop surface. He turned back towards the chopper to see its pilot lift it safely away.

  Tuttle sat up and leaning his back against the girder readied his own weapon.

  He watched the pilot circle the helicopter around waiting for the firing to cease. When it did, he
swooped it back in across the roof. Its belly skimmed just over Tuttle and the three figures lying flat across the ground.

  His waist hanging out against the cables, Piper leaned through its side and shredded the doorway with a ravaging burst of cannon fire. Taking advantage of the cover, Tuttle leapt from behind the girder and ran to the glass observatory that separated them.

  The giant window stretched across the entire width of the rooftop. Only a narrow steel maintenance track extending down it center offered a way across.

  Facing straight ahead and trying not look down at the fires burning below in the mall's lower levels, Tuttle stepped out and slid his feet hurriedly along the thin track.

  "Kirken!" he screamed at the figures still lying motionless on the other side.

  The sound of the helicopter and the roar of its cannon pounded hard against his ears.

  Chapter 41

  Kirken pulled his head up from the shattered pieces of wall that covered them. Grit from the fallout caked across both his eyes. Through a stabbing stinging blur, he saw Brandon moving slowly next to him.

  Still lying face down on his chest, Mel kneeled next to him trying to pull both of them again to their feet. They were almost to the edge of the giant observatory window.

  Behind them for the moment, the firing had stopped. Cannon fire from the helicopter had completely obliterated the door. Only a gaping hole filled with smoke marked the entrance they had just escaped.

  Even above the loud churn of the helicopter blades and the roar of the cannon, Kirken thought he could still faintly hear the voices of the soldiers that had finally found them and chased them to the roof.

  "Kirken!"

  The sound of his name drew his attention to the other side of the glass where a man ran at them from the attack chopper.

  The man stopped briefly at the window's edge before finding a narrow platform across its center and sprinting quickly across. Flames from the mall's ground floors lit him from beneath in a dull orange flicker as he came.