“Reg! What are you doing?!” she yelled as she came running toward him down the immense corridor.
He backed away from the opening and, horrified at what he had been about to do, turned around to see her emerging from the shadows. “Over here,” he yelled to her. “I’m all right now. I almost jumped.”
She ran toward him without slowing down. “Come on, we’ve got to hurry. Let’s jump together.” She grabbed him by the arm and tried to tug him into the open air. When he resisted, she was angry and confused. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “We’ve got to jump. They’re waiting!”
Reg wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. “Sorry, princess, you’re coming with me.” She thrashed from side to side and kicked savagely as Reg turned and started back into the exit bay. Less than halfway back to the spot where the aliens were readying the biological poisons, Ali, Edward, and Yossi came jogging up from the opposite direction.
“Help me!” Fadeela shrieked. “He’s gone insane. Help!”
The three men stopped running and looked on in bewilderment as Reg explained the situation. “She’s trying to jump out of the tower,” Reg told them. “The aliens, they’re controlling her. Help me hold her.”
“Why are you doing this?” Ali asked. “You understand what we have to do.” He gestured Yossi and Edward to move in from the sides, while he moved cautiously forward, speaking in a soothing voice as he prepared to spring at Reg. “Let her go, Reg. Put her on the ground.”
Reg tightened his grip around, Fadeela’s waist and whispered into her ear. “Princess, I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me. I want you to pretend you’re riding a bicycle. Start kicking your legs.”
She replied by butting the back of her skull against the bridge of his nose. Just as Yossi and Edward closed in from either side and prepared to grab him, Reg tried one last time. “Kick, Princess.” Then he lifted her even higher off the ground and charged at Ali.
“I am not a princess!” she screamed. And her legs began churning in front of her like the blades on a threshing machine. Ali was standing in the way as Fadeela, legs pumping, came flying toward him. Reg threw her on top of the Saudi captain and, as the two of them crashed to the floor, he lowered his head and bulled his way past them, narrowly escaping the grasping hands of the other two men.
Running as fast as he could, Reg raised his machine gun in one hand and his pistol in the other and began blasting. As he came closer to the place where the aliens were working, he felt a numbness spread through his limbs and his pace slow to a trot. As the paralysis continued to spread, Reg gritted his teeth and pushed himself forward. He could feel the Tall Ones watching him from the darkness, trying to force their way back into his mind. Struggling with all his might against the invisible power, he dragged himself as close to the aliens as he could. Then he stopped and went perfectly still. His left hand went slack, and the pistol dropped to the floor. He appeared to be dead on his feet. He closed his eyes and felt/listened to the telepathic bombardment coming at him from three separate directions. Something like a smile flickered faintly across Reg’s lips when he realized that he knew exactly where each alien was standing. Three quick bullets. Reg snapped his machine gun into position and fired three shots into the darkness.
There was a crash as the silver case hit the ground and glass test tubes bounced on the floor. The silent screaming in his head went quiet, and the strength returned to his arms. He was sure the Tall Ones were dead. He moved forward a few steps until he felt the hardness of a test tube under his boot and stopped short. He backed up and squatted down, feeling for the vial with his hand, hoping it wasn’t broken. If it was, he would be dead in a matter of days, perhaps hours. Luckily, it seemed to be in one piece, and he slipped it into his shirt pocket. He set the gun aside and moved around the floor on his hands and knees, groping for test tubes as he listened to the shouts of Fadeela and Ali as they ran toward him.
“Over here!” he called to them. “But watch your step. There are test tubes all over the floor.”
By the time Reg killed the aliens, the four of them had run to the edge of the tower and were about to throw themselves off the side. Their flashlights lit up the area. Everything was riddled with bullet holes: the bodies of the three Tall Ones, the side of the taproot, and even the silver case.
“Oh, no. If any of the tubes are broken ...” Edward began.
“... we might as well go back and jump,” Yossi finished the thought. They began searching the floor and quickly found half of the fourteen test tubes, all of them with their seals in place. Five more were discovered inside the taproot, already loaded into the slots that had been grown for them. The meat of the root was wet and orange, like the flesh of a ripe mango. Ali reached inside and gingerly worked them free one at a time, then handed them to Edward, who used his good hand to place them, ever so carefully, back into the battered case.
“I’ve got another one right here,” Reg said. “Give me some light.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the tube he’d stepped on with his boot. It was cracked from top to bottom, but not all the way through. The structural integrity of the tube hadn’t been violated. The honey-colored liquid inside looked harmless enough, like a sample of clean motor oil. Reg gazed nervously at the deadly nectar, which was enough, in theory, to send the entire human species into extinction. “Hey, Edward,” he said with a slight quiver in his voice, “I think you’d better get over here with that case before I drop this thing.” His fingers were trembling and continued to do so until the fragile beaker was resting peacefully in its foam channel.
“We need one more,” Edward announced. “Be careful where you step.”
As the team searched the floor on hands and knees, a pair of explosions shook the tower. A handful of Saudi jets were still in the sky, intent on toppling the tower. The massive structure groaned loudly and tipped even farther. All the equipment the Tall Ones had left scattered on the floor began sliding. Shouting filled the exit bay.
“Time to get out!”
“Let’s go! Back down to the shaft!”
“Not yet!” Reg yelled. “Listen!” Cutting through the rest of the noise was the high-pitched tinkle of rolling glass. The final test tube was skittering downslope with the rest of the debris.
“Hurry! Before it breaks.”
They chased the sound of the tube through the darkness.
“I’ve got it!” Yossi shouted. He carried it to Edward, using both hands. When it was finally locked inside the damaged case, he took off his glasses and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Now can we please get the hell out of here?”
They ran to the trellis and began to climb down, Edward hugging the case to his chest. They were almost to the floor of the lower story when Fadeela stopped and looked around.
“We’re missing someone. Where’s Michael?” she asked. In all the confusion, they’d left him behind.
“I’m right behind you!” came a voice from above. They turned their flashlight upward and saw him climbing down the bars. His uniform was soaked in blood from his wounds, and it looked like his stomach was severely distended. When he caught up to the rest of the team, Yossi turned a flashlight on his swollen belly.
“What, did they make you pregnant up there?”
“Oh, that?” Tye asked, patting the front of his uniform. “I decided to bring Big Mama along with me. She’s practically human.”
“No!” Fadeela said. “You’ve got to leave it here. If you bring it, they’ll know where we are. We can’t let them get the bioweapons back.”
“We’ll talk about it outside,” Reg said. He knew Tye had saved the strange creature for “humanitarian” reasons, but he suddenly realized it might serve another purpose. The six of them rushed across the floor, threw themselves into the esophageal elevator, then climbed down the several flights of X-shaped girders. Bomb blasts continued to rock the tower. As quickly as their feet would carry them, the team was on g
round level once more. They hurried out of the tower, looking for the chariot they’d left near the abandoned jeeps.
Tye lagged behind the others. He had made the first part of the trip down without any assistance, but his stab wounds began to take their toll as he climbed down the last few stories. He couldn’t use his left arm, and his stomach was cramping. Reg and Ali stayed behind the others to help him. As they brought him down, the entire tower groaned and leaned, threatening to collapse at any moment. When they came running out of the tower and into the area where the jeeps were parked, they learned that the chariot was gone. Yossi, Edward, and Fadeela were laboring to push-start one of the jeeps.
“Get in,” Yossi yelled, as soon as the engine kicked to life. Ali and Reg tossed Tye into the passenger seat and jumped aboard a second before Yossi slammed his foot down on the pedal and went careening around the corner. He took them bumping and swerving along the side of the tower until they saw daylight filtering in through the gash in the exterior wall. There was no way to make the jeep climb over the debris that the chariot had crossed on the way inside, so they left it behind and exited the city destroyer on foot.
It was murky dawn outside. There was a roar of jets in the air and the screeching death throes of the tower behind them. Reg loaded the flare gun he’d been carrying and shot one flare after another into the air as they ran into the desert, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the ship.
“Where’s Sutton?” Edward yelled, carrying the case with great care. Despite all the mayhem surrounding him, he kept his attention focused on making certain the case wasn’t jostled or dropped. As they hurried away from the tower, Fadeela ran up alongside Reg.
“Okay, that was my part of the plan,” she told him. “I got us into the ship and outside with the silver box. The rest is up to you.”
Right on cue, a growling noise came rumbling toward them, and soon they saw the headlights of the Mercedes truck. Sutton pulled up and skidded to a stop.
“We’re being bombed!” he screamed. “Whose idea was this?” Reg helped Tye climb into the front seat, then jumped in himself. Remi helped the others pile into the back. When they were all aboard, they shouted in one voice at the driver: “Go!”
Sutton was spitting mad. “This is Faisal’s doing, isn’t it? If I get my hands on that bastard. I’ll tear him apart. Here we are trying to save his damnable country, and he starts bombing us. Remi and I were nearly blown to bits out here while you lot were lolly-gagging inside. And what happened to you?” he asked Tye. “What’s that under your shirt?”
“Trouble ahead!” Reg called, pointing out the front window. Straight in front of them, standing atop a sand dune, was a fully armored alien warrior. It raised its arm into the firing position and pointed its finger at the truck. Everyone ducked, but there was no blast of light. The creature merely stood there watching the truck come closer. After a moment of hesitation, it lowered its head and charged the Mercedes. Remi, riding on top of the cab, fired his rocket launcher, and the warrior’s bioarmor blew apart a half second before Sutton smashed into it with the truck’s battering ram. The tires trampled over the body. Turning an alien into roadkill did wonders for Sutton’s mood.
“Take that, you ugly piece of crap,” he bellowed. He turned to his passengers with an exhilarated smile on his face. “That felt rather good.”
“I’m glad you think so because here comes another one!” Tye said. As before, one of the exoskeletal beasts had them dead to rights. It pointed its long finger at the grille of the speeding truck, but did nothing.
“They’re not firing at us,” Reg noticed. “They must be afraid of hitting this.” He patted the lump under Tye’s shirt. Ali opened up with his field gun as Remi launched another bazooka shell. The creature was tom to pieces. Sutton steered around it.
“You’re right,” Tye realized. “That’s exactly it. They’re afraid to hit Big Mama. And they all know where she is. They can feel her.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Who is Big Mama?” Sutton asked. Tye tore open his shirt and introduced them. When he saw the gelatinous lump of biomatter throbbing and glowing phosphorescent against Tye’s bleeding stomach, Sutton nearly jumped out of the moving vehicle.
“Oh my God, what is that thing?”
“Big Mama is sort of like a brain. She directs traffic for the aliens, lets them know where they’re at.”
Sutton was disgusted. “It’s a brainl You took a brain? Get rid of it!”
“Watch out!” Another alien stepped into the truck’s path. It didn’t hesitate as the others had done, but charged immediately toward the Mercedes’s headlights.
“Bring it on, bug boy!” Sutton yelled. Instead of trying to steer around the creature, he veered directly toward it, spoiling for another head-on collision. He was expecting Remi to use his rocket launcher again, but there hadn’t been time to reload. The creature lowered its head like a bull, and there was a thunderous crack when it collided with the steel bar of the truck’s battering ram. Fragments of the head-thorax shell flew high into the air, but they didn’t feel the creature’s body under their tires.
“It’s hanging on,” Remi shouted from his perch. The big Ethiopian scooted himself to the driver’s side of the cab to get a clear shot at the thing. Before he could, the front left tire exploded and the truck lurched to the side. A second later, the first tentacle threw itself over the hood and stabbed through the sheet metal. Sutton kept the accelerator pedal crushed against the floorboard as a second tentacle reached up and wound itself around the side mirror.
“Steer,” he told Tye. He took out a pistol and started to open the door, ready to polish the creature off with a bullet or two. But the third tentacle was deadly. It broke through the windshield and smashed Sutton’s head against the back wall. Another long arm snaked in through the open door and wrapped itself around the driver’s body. Remi fired at last, and all the tentacles fell limp at the same time. The alien fell to the sand, dragging Sutton outside with it.
Reg slid past Tye, took the wheel, and accelerated. “Check your medallion,” he said. “See if there are more of them ahead of us.” Tye’s mind was blank, still processing what had just happened. “Sutton’s dead,” he said meekly.
“The medallion. Check it,” Reg yelled.
Absently, Tye searched through his pockets until he remembered he’d left his last medallion in the tower. But the one he’d given Sutton was sitting on the dashboard, folded into a paper napkin. He unwrapped it and put it against his skin.
“Not working,” he told Reg. “Still getting the flower design.” “What about that thing?” Reg pointed to the brainlike blob resting on Tye’s lap. “Does it show where the aliens are?”
Tye studied the warm lump’s transparent skin and the mass of diamond shapes that were all gathered on one side of the body. He experimented with it for a moment before figuring it out.
“What does it say?” Reg asked.
“It looks like we’ve got several hundred aliens moving in this direction.” He looked up at Reg. “They’re leaving At-Ta‘if, and I think they’re coming after us.”
“Perfect,” Reg said. “How far away are they?”
“How should I know? I guess we’re just going to leave him back there?” he said, glancing into the side mirror and watching Sutton’s body recede from view.
Reg kept his eyes focused on the rough terrain ahead of him, driving as fast as he could. It was a long way back to Faisal’s camp.
16
Into the Hills
The fifth day of the invasion began in worse fashion than any of the others. Reg found the road a mile before the Dawqah turnoff. He stayed off the asphalt, driving along the rough shoulder at forty-five miles per hour in order to keep the flat tire on the rim as long as possible. When they reached the isolated crossroads, the sun was lifting in the east. Several miles behind them, a massive dust cloud indicated pursuit by the alien army. The flat tire made the truck difficult to
steer. Reg muscled it onto the pavement and pulled hard to make the turn into the hills.
“Can’t we go any faster?” Tye asked, glancing behind them nervously. “They’re definitely catching up.”
“Only a few more miles,” Reg said. “Faisal’s got enough firepower up on those cliffs ahead of us to sink a battleship. We’re almost home.” Reg started up the winding incline at an average speed of thirty miles per hour. But a mile up the road, there was a sharp left-hand turn that pulled the tire off the rim and nearly sent the truck and its lethal cargo sailing over the embankment.
After that, Reg drove in a shower of sparks. The unprotected rim scraped against the road, wearing away by the moment and leaving a continuous scar in the surface of the road. There was no choice except to keep going. The rocky canyon walls rose up to enclose them, and Tye scoured them with his eyes, desperate for some sign of the well-equipped army Reg had described.
“Where are they? There’s no one here.”
“They’re here. Just a little farther.” The mountain pass looked like a completely different universe now that it was daylight, but Reg began to suspect that Tye was right. They should have seen some of the larger guns by now. The rim continued to grind away on the roadway, and each turn was more difficult than the last. Ali climbed along the outside of the truck and slipped in behind the wheel to relieve Reg when he had exhausted the strength in his arms. They were six miles up the road, and the rim was nearly down to the brake shoes.
Stephen Molstad - [ID4- Independence Day 03] Page 31