Invasion Earth

by David Tienter

  Later that day, Izzie approached Trist.

  “Dad, I been thinking about the power outage. There were probably two causes. Somehow, the Tonkians overloaded the power grid, probably by using their computer and attacking the weakest spots. Second, I believe the rumble we felt last week was an earthquake in California. It may have been natural, but was probably caused by a small atomic explosion, making the tectonic plates move. The force of the two combined has caused a disruption in the earth’s magnetic core. Which means it’s probably a planet-wide condition. With the magnetic poles interrupted, there can be no electricity. If what I suspect is true, the earth will at some point in time reset itself, but I have no data to suggest a time-line. Until then, the planet will wobble, throwing the world into cataclysmic weather changes and there will be no electricity. Better think about going to Texas, the Californians could be in deep trouble.

  “These horses will not make it to Texas in time to be of any help. We have to get there fast, or the world will be lost. Humans cannot win the battle with Tonkians, if they cannot use their machines. Tonkians are too strong and ferocious.

  “I have a few ideas and want to go back to that town we last passed. Maybe I can help us pick up a little speed.”

  “Take Cal with you for support. We’ll stay on I-35 south so you can find us.” Trist trusted Izzie’s evaluation of the world’s condition. She was the closest in mental abilities to Izixebi. If anything could be done, she could do it. Trist and the family stayed on the move, weaving their way through abandoned cars.

  When the cars had lost power, the people left them where they stopped. Trist wondered why they couldn’t, at least, pull them over to the side. They could have shut the doors, also.

  Worry beset him. What was Izzie attempting to build? How could they pick up speed? Neither Cal nor Izzie had ever driven a car. Without Izzie and Cal, the family would be reduced to six. The task ahead looked impossible. Speed was a must if they were to arrive in time to provide any help. Maybe he should head back and make sure they were safe.

  The bad part of speed was an increase in danger. Luck had been with the family, but this morning the coyotes began to whine, signaling the approach of danger. Rick spotted a band of eight Tonkians moving north. Trist stopped the horses behind several abandoned cars, trying to remain hidden. The aliens did not appear to have noticed them and continued straight on their course, walking down through an arroyo lined by cottonwood trees. The family relaxed, but still watched closely.

  Trist knew better than to underestimate the aliens. He believed they had known the family was there. He carefully watched the area they had been in. The field was cut through by arroyos and had many small stands of trees. He saw the first of them break from the cover of a gully, less than a hundred yards from the wagon and began to close rapidly on the family. He began to fire at the aliens, while the coyotes were released from the wagon. Then everyone manned a gun.

  The fast, snarling coyotes slowed the aliens, and the gunfire quickly thinned their ranks. Several of the aliens began to retreat, with sharp-toothed coyotes biting at their heels. Rick’s .30 caliber M1 took them down. Trist sent Rick down to make sure the aliens were dead. If one escaped, he would report their position. Rick left his rifle, pulled out two knives, and leaped from the truck. He quickly dispatched the wounded, and carried one of the Tonkians back over his shoulder.

  “Nice of them to provide us with a little fresh meat,” he chortled.

  They took time for a quick feast before continuing on. The children ate the meat raw. Trist ate his cooked; he was not about to take a bite of raw Tonkian. They always ribbed him about not eating meat raw.

  “The choppers not feeling strong today?”

  “I like my Tonkian well done, thank you very much.”

  “Lose too much flavor, cooking it,” said Cheri.

  “I like mine with less flavor,” he responded with a smile. “I just don’t have it in me to eat raw Tonkian.”

  “You’re a treasure, my Papa, unlike any other,” she said, and laughed.

  Gray threads across the southern Washington sky were turning a deep pink when the coyotes sounded their alert. Tails down, whining and chuffing, they hopped stiff-legged about the camp, telling the travelers something was coming.

  As rapidly as possible, the camp gear was stored and the wagon was pushed into a nest of abandon cars. Weapons were loaded and ready. All eyes searched the horizon for movement.

  “Feel anything, Cheri?” asked Trist.

  “Nothing.”

  Rick heard it first. A long horn blast far to the north, like a locomotive’s song in a land where nothing moved. Eerie and out of place, disturbing and worrisome after weeks of quiet. Then they saw it, an eighteen-wheeler was moving slowly down the highway at them. No lights were on. Any real trucker would have had his lights on in the early morning dark.

  “It has to be Izzie and Cal,” said Trist. “By God, I don’t know how she did it, but you can bet it’s her work.”

  While they vacillated between fear that it wasn’t them, and hope that it was, the truck grew ever larger.

  Cal stopped twenty feet from the group and dismounted, followed by Izzie. They ran to the group for embraces and welcome backs.

  “It’s the best we could do, Dad. Certainly not perfect, but even makeshift as it is, we’ll gain a little speed. I’ve been able to get it up to ten MPH.”

  ”It’s a miracle, girl. You did great”

  “Listen up, everyone,” said Cal. “We need something for everyone to ride in. I suggest an SUV, unless you want to bring the horses, then we’ll need a bus or truck.”

  “Why can’t we use the trailer?”

  “That’s where the machine is.”

  “Machine?” asked Trist.

  “I don’t know what you’d call it. It would take too long to explain, let’s get everyone on board and moving and I’ll tell you about it.”

  ”Let’s get a truck,” said Cheri. “We may need the horses later. If we leave them here, the Tonks will eat them.”

  Rick knocked an open-bedded truck out of gear and the guys pushed it up. They had the camping gear, horses, and coyotes loaded and were moving west now at fifteen to twenty miles per hour. The sun was throwing more light now and they began to pick up speed when the highway was clear of abandon cars.

  Cal continued to drive while Trist sat next to Izzie.

  “Can you tell me simply how you accomplished this miracle?”

  “Once I found the lights were out, I figured something had to shift the magnetic poles. We earthlings have always taken them for granted, but it’s only by breaking that force that we can make electricity. I had a theory, worked it out geometrically, and with the help of Cal and his great strength managed to get it built. At the start, we had to go down a high hill to get it to run. Cal found one pedal that, when he pushed it in, the truck would roll down the hill we were on. Once he let the pedal out, the engine roared and we kept it running to here. He pushed the pedal in and we slowed to a stop when we saw you. The pedal is held in by a board right now.”

  “But what did you do?”

  “Dad, inside the trailer of this truck I built an alternate universe. I can break its magnetic force. We modified the truck’s motor to steam. And just like that, we were back on the road. This rig seems to have unlimited power. It should last for six or eight months, as long as it’s not turned off.”

  “Electricity runs this rig?”

  “No, silly, electricity runs the universe.”

  “I am very proud of you, my daughter.”

  Trist was puzzled when Cal ran it at ten miles per hour. Then he realized that Cal had never driven before. Ever since they started it up, he’d run it in first gear.

  “This truck has gears which converts the power to higher speeds. See the numbers on this lever? The higher the number, the faster you’ll go.”

  Cal tried to pull the lever in second gear, but was unable to move it.

  “You need
to push in that foot pedal on the left, then you can move the lever. After you move it up one, let the pedal out. Give it a try.”

  Cal pushed in the clutch, shifted, and released the clutch. The rig jumped and bucked several times, but kept running and began to pick up speed.

  “Now move it into third,” said Trist.

  Cal shifted it up one more gear and they were sailing along at forty miles an hour.

  “Better leave it there until we get to a clearer stretch of road.”

  Izzie had been unsure of the durability of the machine, but the rig ran straight and hard. They saw many Tonkians alongside the road, but slowed for none, and the aliens had no means to stop the eighteen-wheeler. They stopped only for water and food. Streams and ponds were full of fresh water and served all their needs. Several times they stopped in abandoned towns to salvage food. That was the danger time, but they were lucky and survived several small scrapes without injury.

  Trist, alone in the dark, staring at the wide ribbon before him and with Cal sleeping in the other seat and Izzie cramped into the sleeper, all the doubts and worries came rushing at him. Life as a father guarding his clan had been difficult, but the fear that had entered his soul when he had stopped that first Tonkian had grown. It was hard when every hand seemed raised against him. Fear itself, his constant companion, was a draining force. His reserves were running low. The thought of an hour’s uninterrupted sleep seemed erotic with its appeal. A safe haven to pull over for a day was a dream, as was the vision of a large platter of spaghetti with meatballs covered in marinara sauce and parmesan cheese.

  He drove on, forcing his attention on the road. They had to make Texas and the Army there. That was the only respite now. He fervently wished he could see how Mary and Ernie were doing, and the four who went to Duval. He thought about Larry, the son he’d lost long ago. Death of a child was hard for a parent to face. Trist had blamed himself for allowing Larry to go hunting, though he knew the death had been a freak accident. Now death was currently seeking out his whole brood. Raising a militia from scratch would be a difficult task for Sam and George’s group. His poor beleaguered brood were facing the challenge of a lifetime.

  As the red sun of morning broke, he saw little but an empty highway. He pulled the big rig over for a break. The landscape here was open and no enemy forces were in sight. Trist and his children dismounted carefully, scanning the land for threats.

  “I can sense no one around,” said Cal.

  “Let’s take a short break,” said Trist. “Get us some grub before we hit it again.”

  “We could use some fresh food,” said Rick. “This canned crap is really getting boring.”

  “You want to run out and see if you can find something, go ahead. We’ll leave in thirty minutes, so be back by then.”

  Five hunters took off with their long mile-eating strides, followed by the coyotes. Cal stayed behind with Trist. His heightened senses would help detect any threats. The horses were unloaded and attacked the fresh grass growing in abundance there.

  Trist opened a can of beans and ate standing up. Cal scrambled to the top of the rig’s cabin for a better field of sight.

  Trist lay down in the fresh grass and fell asleep. Slight noises around the makeshift camp woke him. The brightness of full morning sun told him he had slept longer than expected.

  The hunters had brought back a cow. The half-eaten carcass lay near the truck.

  “With nothing around,” said Cal, “we decided to let you sleep. How about a nice thick steak for you?

  Trist was groggy from his deep sleep. “Yes, I could use a little protein to buck me up a touch. Listen up, everyone, I think it’s time we let the horses loose. Plenty of fresh grass and water, they won’t want for anything. Should be right at home out here.”

  ”We want to keep them.”

  “I know that. Of course you want to keep them, but we’re headed for a war zone. No time for any more pets right now. One more thing, we have to barricade the sides of the truck. That wooden frame won’t stop many arrows. They’re throwing rocks too, so figure on getting a shield. Next bunch of abandoned cars we see, I’ll stop and we can use the doors to line the sides.”

  “They’re coming,” sang out Cal. “I can hear them off to the right.”

  The family threw the carcass on the truck, to the delight of the coyotes. Trist jumped into the cab with his half-cooked steak in one hand and slid the truck into gear.

  They saw the Tonkians coming, three hundred yards away. They aimed their shotguns and the firing commenced. Trist held the rig to thirty miles per hour. The Tonkians followed, but were not gaining on the rig.

  The shotguns had no visible effect on the aliens. Rick pulled out the M1 carbine and dropped the three Tonkians leading the charge. They fell back rapidly, and Trist raised the speed of the truck.

  “”Shotgun slug doesn’t carry like a rifle bullet,” said Rick, who was well pleased with his choice of weapon. “And that’s three more of those bastards we’ll not have to deal with later.”

  Refreshed by his sleep, tummy full of beef, Trist‘s spirit rose and he thought, with my family by my side, we can do anything.

  THE MILITIA

  The seven members of the newly formed North West Militia slept hard that night. The battle with the Tonkians and the hours of planning had tired everyone. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and frying bacon woke them up. Jake was already in the kitchen, working hard.

  Susan went into help. She looked at Jake with a critical eye. He did not have the bearing of a military leader. Tall and thin, with stooped shoulders, hair grey and thinning with a bushy beard, he looked like a weary old man. His appearance would not give people confidence in his leadership abilities. Still, when he turned to wish her a good morning, she saw the strength in his steel-gray eyes and understood why Sam and George had agreed that he should be the leader.

  After they had eaten, everyone but Jake left to pass the word to the town that there would be a meeting of the town at the high school football field. Jake remained behind to work on his speech.

  “We’re going to need a ball-buster of a speech,” Sam told him.

  Jake sat at his desk and began to write.

  Several hundred people were milling about as Jake climbed up on the stands to address them.

  “I’m Jake Anderson, leader of the newly formed North West Militia.

  “As you well know, our world is under a threat unlike anything it has ever faced before. You’ve all seen them. You’ve all lost friends and family to this vicious enemy. You know that we can’t survive without all of mankind working together. I believe that together in the spirit of fellowship and mutual trust, we can defeat the green-skinned aliens that have invaded earth. I am asking you to join us in this grand crusade.

  “Tomorrow morning at ten o’clock, we’ll form up and begin our assault against the aliens.

  “I can promise you little but hardship and danger. I can also state emphatically that this is our only chance for survival, not only for you, but for the human race.

  “Bring your weapons, food supplies, and warm clothing. We’ll begin with a sweep to the west, moving all the way through to Seattle. Then turning south, we’ll close upon the aliens forcing them to face the army of Texas which is moving north. I hope to see all of you in the morning. Tell your neighbors, tell your friends. Now is the time when you must look to the iron in your souls and the stiff-necked independence you’ve all lived with. The grand march of freedom begins tomorrow morning.”

  There was a small round of applause as Jake stepped down off the grand- stand and left the field.

  KING CEIDAS ON EARTH

  Six years after the Battle of Chicago, years in which Trist’s children had grown into adults, King Ceidas had moved to a new planet, conquered its people who had led quiet nomadic lives, and now he had a standing army of over a million soldiers. He had trained his troops since their birth. His technicians had developing long-range weapons that could be wielded
by the Tonkians. Modified slings and thick bored bows were developed. The bows were compatible with Tonkian hands. Every soldier was trained in both weapons.

  Time, he thought, time to begin the conquest of Trist’s planet. Time to destroy his enemy and avenge himself. Two armies would be teleported this time. They would have a northern and southern position. They would march towards each other, subduing the populace and clearing the land for Tonk. They would be unconquerable. King Ceidas had observed weakness in Trist and believed he could exploit those weaknesses, which he presumed all humans were prone to.

  He chose Canada for the northern camp, and Arizona for the southern camp. He was sure he would have control of the continent within the first year.

  His top general, Mynn, would command the northern army while he personally would lead the southern camp. There would be no mercy. The earthlings would be eradicated. This would be the planet they would use as their homebase now.

  Within hours of establishing their camp on earth, King Ceidas understood that he had severely underestimated his enemy. Flying machines, something he had never dreamed possible, would decimate his troops at too great a distance. He called in his technicians and strategists to discuss the problem.

  The strategy people came up with trenches and tunnels as a way to avoid the fire from the flying machines. Ceidas accepted the idea as a stop-gap solution, but he knew that for him to win this war, the flying machines must be disabled.

  Ceidas’s first aggressive act was to invade and conquer a small town near him, believing the earth men would not attack one of their own towns. The citizens of the town had no real protection against the Tonkians. The population was less than two thousand people, and the town had little more than a few convenience stores, a library, and a small park. For Ceidas, it supplied his forces with food and water.