by Mark Tufo
“The question should be, ‘Weren’t you?’ ”
“I guess it’s possible. But why bother helping at all? We’d be dead by now if not for their help.”
“That has merit. I’m not convinced, not by a long shot, but it has merit. And they’re not here now?”
“No, they’ve attempted contact before but they realize what the sight of them does to us mentally and psychologically. They even evoke a negative physical response.”
“I can’t imagine why. Why did they seek you out then?”
“Maybe they thought I wouldn’t turn into a girlie man.”
“Or they were desperate. That makes more sense.”
“I like you man, I don’t know why. I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than I have and that somehow you should be here. Just don’t push it.”
“I’ve really only just begun.”
“Wonderful.”
“Want some food?” I pulled a Pop-Tart from a cargo pocket.
“You said food.” BT’s nose wrinkled at the sight of the foil packet.
“What are you, a foodie?”
“I just assumed that when you had some food that it would be edible.”
“The gods shined their heavenly light down upon us when these were created.”
“Did you know that nutritionally speaking the box is better for you than its contents?”
“Yeah, but does it taste like blueberry goodness? My wife’s been trying to wean me off of these since she found my stash.”
“Your stash?”
“I came across a packaging plant. I filled a shuttle with pallets of them.”
“Pallets?”
“Yeah, had to get a storage locker to hold them all. Would have been more but there were a lot of cherry flavored ones. Those I burned.”
“You burned the cherry flavored Pop-Tarts.”
“It was for the betterment of mankind. They are the root of all evil as we know it.”
“How long have you been delusional?”
“I would imagine it came with my 24th hit of acid.”
I could feel BT’s intense stare on me, I didn’t care. I was eating. Next time he’ll be more careful whom he hitches his cart to.
Chapter Twenty-Four - Tracy
“What is that?” Tracy was holding up her hand to shield her eyes. The glare from the L.A. wall was blinding even from three miles away. From this distance it looked like a giant white fire. Rut had just come back from a scouting mission.
“Well, it’s a mountain of glass.”
“Glass?”
“Yeah and it’s huge, stretches at least three miles long, ma’am. Has to be fifty feet tall in some spots.”
“Who built it and for what purpose? Do they think the Genos are going to stop because they cut their feet?”
“Tough to say, we couldn’t get too close. It’s manned.”
“Military?”
“Not military ma’am and if I had to hazard a guess I’d say gangs.”
“Like gangs of people or Bloods and Crips?”
“Bloods and Crips.”
“What the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know ma’am, but maybe that’s the anvil to our hammer.”
“Yeah, unfortunately sometimes it feels like we’re swinging plastic toys. How close are the Genos to that thing?”
“Gotta be about a mile now.”
“Let’s pursue, when the tanks get in range they have the command to fire at will.”
It was a few minutes later when the tanks opened up a fresh barrage on the backs of the Genogerians.
“Rut, get the Captain on the horn!” Tank Commander Sergeant Drake shouted, his voice barely audible over the din of war.
“It’s Sergeant Drake.” Rut handed the radio over.
“This is Captain Talbot. Everything alright, Sergeant?”
“Can you see this from your location?”
“Going to have to be more specific, Sergeant. What are you seeing?”
“There’s some sort of green fire coming from the ridge.”
“Chemical?”
“I mean rounds coming down range.”
“Tracers?”
“I don’t think so, Captain. I’ve never seen anything like it. It looks like they have two positions set up with this weapon and...and it’s cutting rows and rows of Genos down.”
“Is your position in danger?”
“No it’s concentrated on the front ranks.”
“I can’t see it. I’ll have Rut get me closer.”
“Yes ma’am,” Rut answered before he was asked, the truck already rolling.
It didn’t take long to spot the line of green fire shooting down the hill, which was accompanied by a multitude of small arms fire.
“Looks like whoever is up there is pretty dug in.” Tracy was looking through her field glasses. “What do you make of it?” She handed the binoculars to Rut.
He was silent for a moment. “Laser?”
“It could be, but I’ve never seen one powerful enough to do that and I think I would have heard about it.”
“Whatever it is, it seems to be working. We might have a plastic hammer, ma’am. But that anvil is all metal.”
Tracy got out of the truck and went to the front. She climbed up the bumper and onto the hood.
“Ma’am?”
“Something’s happening.”
Rut joined her up on the hood. He found himself being overly protective of his Captain, although if there was anyone he’d ever met that didn’t need his protection it was she. “They’re moving towards the gaps. I don’t get it.”
“I can’t say that I do either, but it seems that they are filling in their lost ranks.”
“That’s crazy. Why would you subject your troops to that kind of abuse? They could just go around.”
“They don’t know any other way. Head down and forward seem to be their modus operandi.” Tracy had one hand on her hip, the other shielding her eyes.
“Huh?”
“M.O., Rut.”
“Oh.” He still didn’t get it.
Tracy was looking off to the north at the vast Geno line.
“Down!” Rut had seen the brilliant flash of white light. He grabbed Tracy and even through her protests tossed her off the hood. She landed with a loud ‘umph’ and was about to put a round in his ass when he jumped down next to her and shoved her under the body of the truck. He immediately joined her and did his best in the limited space to cover her body with his.
“Rut, what the fuck?”
Debris blew past them, pinging hard off the front of the truck, the windshield exploding under the assault. Tracy threw her hands over her head and dropped her head down. The truck stopped most of the fragments from hitting them but still some hit hard against her exposed fingers and hands. Blood began to fall from her, she wondered briefly if that would make it easier for the radiation to seep into her system.
As a violent wind blew past, both expecting to be seared and forever become a shadow emblazoned on the hard packed ground. When Tracy realized it was over, she rolled out from under the vehicle.
“Nuke?” Rut asked, looking up at her from below.
“You can come out now, I think it’s safe. It wasn’t a nuke. And before I forget to tell you…thank you.”
“You’re welcome. So, no nuke?”
“If it was it was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
The radio squealed. “Genos turning, Genos turning! Retreat!”
“Time to go, Rut,” Tracy said as she extended a hand down and helped her driver up.
Ten minutes later the small force had pulled back to relative safety. The scouts reported that the Geno horde had stopped moving in any direction. Tracy had unfolded some maps of the terrain but not really focusing on what she was looking at. Her main thoughts were on who was manning that ridge. They had now used two weapons she’d never seen and for the first time since this had started, the Genos had stopped their forward progress. Sh
e looked up when she heard the low keening.
Rut was outside the truck trying to smoke a cigarette, his hand shaking too violently for him to get a proper drag. The new alien sound did little to quell his nerves. Tracy came out as well.
“What now?”
“Well it isn’t a battle cry, so that’s good.”
“I suppose, ma’am.”
Tracy reached over and steadied Rut’s hand. He thanked her silently as he took in a big pull.
“Now what, ma’am?”
She wanted to keep pummeling the Genogerians, especially now that they seemed in such disarray. Two things kept her from that decision. The first being that when the Genos stopped they seemed more willing to come after her men and she would not sacrifice any of them needlessly. And second, she couldn’t be sure but the Genos sounded like they were grieving and she couldn’t bring herself to attack them while they mourned.
“We’ll pull back a little further, set up guards and get everyone fed and rested.”
Rut hoped that they went far enough away so as to not be able to hear that discordant sound. It stirred something primal within him and he didn’t like it one bit.
The mourning howl turned into a chant sometime later that night. Tracy had been awakened in her tent by the noise. She quickly dressed and went out.
“Sure does seem like they’re revving themselves up, ma’am.” Rut was never more than ten feet from his Captain’s tent.
“Don’t you ever sleep, Rut?”
“I think, ma’am, the question is how could you? I mean...I mean with all the racket.” Rut looked like he had just slapped a grandmother.
“Relax, Rut. When I sleep I get to visit with my child and husband…much more comforting there than here.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And Rut.”
“Yes ma’am?”
“Call me Captain. I feel like an old woman when you say that.”
“No ma’am, you certainly aren’t an old woman.”
“Fine, we’ll do this your way. What time is it?”
“Nearly 5:30.”
“Sunrise in about a half an hour. Get the troops up. I’ve got a feeling that dawn is going to be very eventful.”
Chapter Twenty-Five – Mike Journal Entry 11
I slept a little that night, the dreams tending to be on the bittersweet side. I saw Debbie—she looked so sad. Dennis and I had gone up to Indian Hill long before the war. We were joking, drinking Moosehead beer if I remember correctly, when a girl appeared on the other end of the expansive field. Even in my dream I felt a cold wind rush by me.
“Who’s that?” Dennis asked. “Do you think she needs help?”
At first I thought it was Beth and I was going to warn Dennis that she most certainly did not. And then as she moved closer, I noticed she was floating above the grass rather than actually touching it, which should have been enough to have me running. Instead I took a long pull from my beer, maybe in hopes of shoring up my courage to stand my ground. Her left hand came up and extended towards us. When she had halved the distance between us she stopped moving, though her long dress continued to billow in the wind, her features seemed frozen. There could have been a sad smile there but I wasn’t sure.
I reached out to try and grab Dennis’s shoulder when I realized he was moving towards the vision. I tried to move and stop him, but my feet were mired in the ground, ropy green vines ensnaring them. I was rooted to the ground. I broke the beer bottle and was going to slash through the growth when I realized the green tendrils were hands—Dee’s hands to be specific.
“WHY?” I cried.
“Because it is not your time,” was his response.
“Dennis, stop!”
“It’s alright, man. It’s supposed to be like this!”
“No it’s fucking not!” Even in my nightmare I knew I was tearing up my vocal chords.
Dennis brought his arm up and took Debbie’s hand.
I went to my knees. “No, man, no please don’t go, I miss you so much, I miss you both so much.”
Dee was now standing next to me, my feet no longer cemented to the ground. I tried running again. The air might as well have been made of molasses. It had a physicality to it I could not push through. I went to the ground, my hands reaching out and grabbing turf. I was hoping I could pull myself forward.
“Michael, they no longer travel this realm.” Dee was watching as Debbie and Dennis began to fade into a colored mist.
“What do you know?” I had rolled onto my back, the day turning to night just as fast. Stars were blotted out as something moved across the heavens.
“Mike! Talbot!”
I awoke with a start, sitting up rapidly. I was disoriented in the dark.
“You alright, man?” BT asked, “You were making some pretty weird noises in your sleep.”
“Am I still here?”
“Where else would you be?”
“Sorry, sorry, um, just a little out of it.”
“Who’s Debbie?”
“You make it a habit of eavesdropping?” I said it a little more harshly than I’d intended. I still hadn’t shaken the memory of the encounter from my mind.
“We’re in the same fighting hole you and I, in case you hadn’t noticed. It was my shift to stay awake. It would have been harder not to hear you.”
I took a breath or two to calm down. “I’m sorry, man. It was a pretty intense dream. Debbie was on the ship with me.”
I was glad I didn’t have to explain further as the Genos cries turned into something much more ominous.
“That’s a war chant.”
“You sure?” BT asked as he shifted so he could look forward.
“Get your men ready. It looks like the dawn is going to be eventful.”
“Eventful? You call a full scale war eventful?”
“I can think of other more descriptive adjectives. Do you really want me to use them?”
“No, eventful will work.”
The chanting was rhythmic, hypnotic and about as peaceful as it was going to get for a while. The sun had no sooner broken over the horizon than the chant became a single unified explosive scream. It was deafening. If my hands weren’t plastered to my rifle I would have covered my ears. “Here we go,” I said through gritted teeth.
As the Genos started at a full run, the rail guns went off again, followed almost immediately by gunfire around me. Something had shifted. Yesterday had been measured controlled bursts; this was frenetic wild firing. The chanting had seemed to sap our wills while bolstering theirs. Then the Genos did something I’d yet to see. Their front lines began firing. With us up high they weren’t in danger of shooting the one in front of them. The effect was dazzling brilliant, with so many rounds coming at us it was impossible to see the Genos through it, like someone had pulled a blue tarp over them.
The glass sounded like rain falling on fire. Then the screams of men were intermingled as the impossible barrage began to find targets.
“What are they doing?” BT asked as he fell back into our small depression.
“Winning.”
It was then we heard the heavy rounds of the trailing tanks start hitting. “Yeah!” I pumped my fist. “Whoever you are, I love you. Fuck them up!”
Chapter Twenty-Six - Tracy
“Oh my God,” Tracy said as she watched the battle begin. It was awe-inspiring as the Genos raced across the field oblivious to the deaths they were suffering. They had made their fear go away. And then they’d opened up with a salvo that no opposing force could withstand. The air crackled with the charged rounds. It was a blue canopy of light—any thicker and it could have been a curtain.
“Rut, get those tanks firing, get everything firing. If it’s in a box and it shoots something I want that as well. The men on that hill are screwed if we can’t help. Tell the men to fuck them up!”
“Fuck them up?” Rut wanted to tell her those poor souls were screwed already but did as he was ordered.
“Those
words exactly! Get it done.”
The Genogerians paid absolutely no heed to what trailed them. Tracy was convinced she could have tapped them on the shoulder before putting a round in their ugly faces. And she just might have proved her point if she could run that fast.
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Mike Journal Entry 12
The rail guns were still doing damage. I can’t imagine any other enemy would be willing to or could sustain and still they made progress. They couldn’t have been more than fifty yards from the base of our mount.
“Any more bombs?”
BT shook his head.
“Pity.” I was switching between hands to keep pulling the trigger as fast as I could. I could feel my fingers wanting to curl up like a ninety-year-old severe arthritis sufferer. Then the Genos added a new wrinkle, hurling something that looked like metallic Frisbees. The sky was littered with them, had to have been hundreds. They were coming from the Genos so I knew they couldn’t be good. I started shooting at them. It was a lot like skeet shooting, although not hitting a target in this game most likely meant death.
Some others got the idea and began shooting at them as well. It was a no-win situation, though. It just gave the Genos a breather to come closer. The first of the discs opened up about halfway up the hill and bloomed like a deadly rose. I figured it was going to shower the area with metallic fragments, but instead a yellow beam as thick as a tree shot down from the bottom. The ground it hit blew apart and away from the force. A crater the size of a truck was left behind. When the other “spinners” reached the crest of the hill, we took our heaviest losses. Explosions rocked the terrain, I was pushed over onto my side just in time to see the rail gun closest to us turn into a twisted pile of exotic scrap metal.
My hearing was shot. I think for that I was happy. When the spinners stopped I knew the Genos would be close behind. I righted myself and propped up my rifle. I hate being right sometimes. The Genos were hissing and I could see their teeth through the snarl, they were that close.
“BT, we have to fall back!”
He was shoving rounds in a magazine. “How much time?” He hadn’t stopped.