by Jake Bible
“Missile lock!” Styles shouted and the BTT banked a hard right. “I don’t know how, but they spotted us!”
“They must have figured out a way when we came out of stealth back there! The Spiders must have scanned us and sent them the specs!”
“No, it’s us. Me and the other Ghosts,” Heather said. “It’s their tech in our bodies. That’s what they scanned for. They just knew to look up.”
“Shouldn’t the stealth tech block the scans?” Alex said looking at Styles.
“Sorry, chief, but when you and I designed this thing, we weren’t counting on zombie virus nanotech being on board. Who knows what signal that shit gives off!”
“Looks like we drop,” Heather stated. “They’re gonna see us if we land in front. There’s no way to ambush them.”
“You better get everyone ready,” Styles insisted. “I’ll try to dodge these missiles, but eventually they’ll get us.”
“I’m on it,” Heather said, turning from the cockpit to the Ghosts in the cabin. “Okay! Listen up people!”
Chapter Thirty
“Did any Spiders make it through?” Mr. Stone asked.
“Yes, sir,” his driver replied. “Nearly three dozen are en route to our coordinates.”
“What about missiles? Did they strike anything above us?”
“Not yet, sir. They do appear to have locked onto some nanotech signatures, but…”
“But, what?”
“Looks like they’ve dropped again, sir! They’re coming right at us!”
“Fire everything we have at them! Don’t let those Jacks touch ground!”
***
Missiles filled the sky and the Ghosts tried to adjust their suits’ forms, hoping to get some extra maneuverability, but those that lacked any aerodynamic knowledge made too many mistakes and several Ghosts careened right into the missiles’ paths.
One Ghost exploded on impact, the resulting shockwaves knocking three more Ghosts unconscious, sending their bodies plummeting to the ground, spinning wildly out of control. Two of the Ghosts that collided with the missiles, but were lucky enough not to set the projectiles off, had the same idea at the same time and wrapped their bodies about the missiles. They reformed their suits into protective shields, keeping the others safe from the shockwaves that erupted when the missiles finally detonated and sent the two Ghosts speeding to the earth as giant fireballs.
“We won’t even get to the HAVs if this keeps up!” Jean Lister yelled over the com.
“Can’t really turn back now!” Heather shouted.
***
“I want Shock troops on the Ghosts that just hit the ground!” Mr. Stone ordered. “Torch them so they don’t come back!”
A following HAV unloaded twenty of its Shock troops and they converged on each of the fallen Ghosts, setting them ablaze with burning hot phosphorous before they could regain consciousness. The lucky ones never did wake up. The screams of those that did echoed across the landscape.
“All guns to the sky!” Mr. Stone yelled. “Try to pick them off!”
But Mr. Stone was too late in his order, as the remaining Ghosts slammed into the ground, with only two of them hitting an HAV.
***
“Holy fuck!” Heather screamed. “There’s no second dose of anesthetic!”
“You folks okay?” Alex asked over the com. A chorus of derisive language spewed at him instantly. “Sorry! Stupid question!”
T.L. struggled to gain his feet, but never made it, a stream of phosphorous hitting him square in the chest. His screams filled the com as a hole burned through his suit, then his skin, his ribs, lungs, and out his back. His body tried to repair itself, but the phosphorous was too fast and eventually he was reduced to smoldering scraps that twitched for a moment and then were still.
“They have our number!” Heather shouted. “Take out the phos throwers!” Heather looked about as she opened fire on the Shock troops rushing at her and realized that besides herself, only Jean and another Ghost named Scritch Roberts, were left. “Fuck!”
Jean’s spikes extended quickly, impaling the front trooper with the phos thrower, ripping his throat out. She twisted her spike and hooked the phos thrower, ripping it out of the choking man’s hands and into hers. “Let’s even the numbers!” She let loose and began to cut a path through the troopers, turning their bodies into burning, flashing piles of screaming, fusing, melting flesh and metal.
“Right behind you!” Heather said following in Jean’s wake, firing at any trooper that came from the sides. She started to notice that the bullets impacting against her suit were hurting more and more and she realized her energy was running low. She’d need to feed soon or she wouldn’t be able to repair much longer.
The first trooper that got close enough, Heather gored him, prying his suit open and scooping out as many organs as possible. She brought the nutrient rich liver to her mouth and tore off chunks, barely chewing the meat before she swallowed. She never stopped blasting though, making sure the troopers couldn’t take down Jean.
***
“Another HAV down, sir!” Stone’s driver announced. “Only three Ghosts left, but the troops are having a hard time with them.”
“A hard time?” Mr. Stone roared. “I’ll show them all what a hard time is!”
Atta boy, Mr. Stone! Let’s give them what for!
Stone stood from his seat and shoved his way out of the HAV and into the battle. He grabbed whatever BC he could from around him, even if it was still part of a trooper’s suit and formed the material into a large cannon. He caught Heather’s eye and he could see her face turn white under the liver blood smeared across her cheeks.
***
“Who the fuck is this guy? I know him, right?” Heather yelled over the com. “The mother fucker has Ghost abilities! How the fuck is that possible?”
“I don’t know…” Alex responded. “Ghosts have to be genetically engineered from birth!”
“Thanks for the science lesson, Al. I know how a Ghost is made!”
“Just talking out loud, sweet thing,” Alex replied. “What’s he doing with his impossible skills?”
***
Stone created a large tripod and lifted the cannon on top to steady it, setting anchors deep into the ground. While he was now strong enough to wield the massive weapon, the shear force from the recoil would send him flying.
Keep it steady, Stone. It would be quite embarrassing to miss with this big thing.
“Hush now, Reginald.”
Why’d you pick a cannon anyway? It’s a bit unwieldy.
“First thing that came to mind. Who am I to argue with inspiration?”
Well, not me! Let the inspired destruction begin!
Stone watched Jean and Heather get closer and closer. When they were twenty meters out he pointed the cannon at them, and the thirty Shock troops they were battling, and fired.
The shell sped from the weapon and rocketed towards its target. Heather tried to pull Jean out of the way, but Jean shook her off, turning her phos thrower on the incoming projectile.
The ensuing explosion seemed to suck the oxygen out of the area and Heather felt as if her lungs were being ripped from her chest. She could feel the heat of the detonation, and then the pain, as phosphorous coated shrapnel hit her suit and began to eat its way through to her skin.
She forced herself to her feet, ripping the damaged parts of her suit off of her, and found herself facing the approaching figure of Mr. Stone.
In her experience, although now thirteen years less due to memory loss, Heather had learned how to tell the difference between cold blooded killers and those that killed for their jobs. The look on Mr. Stone’s face told Heather he was neither. His face was that of the pure predator. Killing wasn’t a job or part of some warped mind. Mr. Stone killed because it was what his warped soul was put on Earth to do.
“Ms. Walton!” Mr. Stone shouted. “I am beyond pleased that we actually get to meet face to face!”
Faster than Heather thought possible, Mr. Stone knelt, grabbed up some stray BC and had it formed and flying at her. She barely moved out of the way as several small blades whizzed past her head.
“Little knives aren’t going to take me down!” she shouted at Stone. “You’ll have to do better than that!”
“I did!” Mr. Stone grinned.
Heather spun about in time to see the blades combine into one long curved weapon that whipped about and changed its course, heading right back at her. She ducked and rolled, but the edge caught her shoulder, nearly taking her whole arm off. She winced and got to her feet. That was when the four other curved blades Mr. Stone had just formed embedded themselves in her chest and abdomen.
Bravo, Stone! Well done!
“You’re pretty skilled with the getaway, but your one on one needs a little work,” Mr. Stone laughed as he closed the distance between Heather and himself, leaping into the air and bringing his knee down directly onto Heather’s face. The crunch of bone could easily be heard over the other sounds of battle as the only other Ghost left, Scritch, kept fighting off the troopers.
Mr. Stone glanced over at the lone Ghost. “Looks like your buddy is holding his own.” He yanked the blades from Heather’s body and tossed them into the battle. Troopers cried out as the blades sliced through them to get at Scritch. The Ghost never saw them coming and when they hit and passed by, he actually had time to look down at his body before it separated into five pieces. “Phos him!”
Mr. Stone pulled Heather to her feet and turned her broken face towards the spectacle, as troopers turned Scritch’s parts into five burning piles of white hot BC and flesh.
“I know you aren’t the last Ghost,” Mr. Stone growled. “But your death will be sweet.” Heather struggled against Stone’s grip, but the man was too strong. “Stop, Ms. Walton. Just stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
You have her now, Mr. Stone. Oh, you have her good!
With the Ghosts gone, the remaining troopers marched back to their HAVs. Mr. Stone forced Heather to watch until the last one was loaded.
“You see that, Ms. Walton? That’s what the future looks like,” Mr. Stone snarled in her ear. “No more privileged monarchs, no more overbearing religions, no more fucking Jacks thinking they know what is right for everyone! The future will be ordered. The future will be efficient. And for those that don’t step in line, the future will be brutal.”
“You’re…a…fucking…psycho,” Heather gasped through broken teeth that every time they repaired Mr. Stone just smiled and shattered again.
“Psychosis is defined by a distorted perception of reality, Ms. Walton. I may have a different view, but my perception of reality is not distorted. Not for long anyway.”
“Fuck…you…,” Heather said.
“Pity those are your last words,” Mr. Stone said as he started to form several more blades, but paused as a whining noise from above caught his attention. “Wha…?”
“Those…aren’t my…last words,” Heather whispered. “My last words…are…I love you…Alex”
***
“Well, chief, we knew this was coming,” Styles said, disengaging from the BTT’s control console as the aircraft screamed towards the Earth.
“We certainly did, Eddie,” Alex said, pulling a flask from an inside pocket and taking a long pull. “Here. It’s a private batch for Russian royalty only.”
Styles took the flask and drained it. “Thanks.”
Alex laughed as Styles handed him the empty flask. The laugh was the last sound he ever made.
***
“We’ve lost contact with the BTT, sir,” a Tech informed the General. “Its last known coordinates just went nuclear.”
“Guess the Ghosts did what they could before the prince did what he had to,” the General said solemnly. “Get me a private com to Melissa Brenton and Billy Brenton.”
***
Melissa looked over at her uncle as soon as the General gave them both the news. Billy’s eyes were pooling with tears, but he fought to keep control.
Melissa got up from her seat and yanked Billy to his feet. He started to protest, but gave up when she wrapped her arms about him and buried her face in his chest, her sobs and shaking grief bringing them both to their knees.
Beth watched for a second, but turned away from the two stricken figures kneeling on the HAV’s floor, trying to give them some privacy. The few American personnel that were in the hold with them turned away also, but each felt their own pain and grief over the friends, colleagues, lovers and children lost over the past few days of hell.
***
Through the smoldering blast site, the Spiders came. The EMP that went out after the BTT detonated seemed to slow them down briefly, but did not stop them.
The area was still so hot the Spiders’ feet melted and reformed each time they touched the ground, so they increased their speed, honing in on the last signal they received showing them where the American convoy was.
What flesh was inside the BC bodies did not feel the effects of the nuclear blast. They couldn’t feel the heat or the intense radiation.
All the flesh could feel was the drive to hunt and kill. To get to their target and exterminate. To end the Americans’ existence on Earth.
The Spiders crawled into and out of the blast crater, alien creatures in their own world.
Chapter Thirty-One
Melissa wiped at her eyes and sat down next to Beth.
“Hungry?” Beth asked, rummaging through the rations pack she and Melissa were given when they loaded onto the HAV. “I know you probably aren’t right now, but you should eat something while you can.”
Melissa robotically took the small container from Beth, but didn’t open it, just sat there rolling it in her hands. Beth took it back from her and popped the top, revealing stew of some sort and handed it back to her with a small spoon she formed from the top.
“There. Eat,” she insisted.
Melissa stirred the contents, but still didn’t eat.
“I know you blame me for all this,” Beth said. “I’ve been a burden on your whole family since we left Gramercy.”
“What?” Melissa asked sharply. “Burden? We’re American’s! Ghosts! If it wasn’t you, it would have been some other mission down the line. The only old Ghosts are Ghosts that took a desk job or a promotion out of field work.” Melissa looked hard into Beth’s eyes. “That is less than five percent. Didn’t have that fact locked away in your multiple personalities, did you?”
Beth smiled weakly. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, it’s true. Every time Heather would leave for a mission I prepared myself. She’d always make sure I knew where her will was, the deed to the brownstone, all the bank account numbers and the paperwork I would need to fill out to emancipate myself so I didn’t become a ward of the system.”
“I would have taken you in,” Billy said before he realized what he was saying.
Melissa rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t respond.
“Sorry…,” Billy added, turning back to his own thoughts.
“At least I’ve been with her these last few days, right?” Melissa said. “I know what happened and why. It’s not like I got a knock at the door and was handed a flag and regrets.” Melissa laughed. “Although, since Ghosts never technically existed and were outside the Articles of Sanctuary, I guess I wouldn’t have even gotten that!”
Beth smiled and squeezed Melissa’s hand. “That’s true. I hope I can have that attitude if…” She trailed off realizing she didn’t have anyone. Any memories of family were just vague outlines of people she didn’t really know; just shadows of someone else’s life.
Melissa, sensing Beth’s train of thought, said, “You can have Billy.” The two girls laughed quietly.
“What?” Billy asked, looking hurt. “I’m just the uncle you can give away? Thanks, Mel…”
***
“We have movement on our right!” Colonel Owens called over the com.<
br />
“On our left!” an HAV driver added.
“We see them!” Colonel Smithfield responded. “General? What are your orders? Push through or stand and fight?”
The General checked his own readings. “Push through! We aren’t stopping for anything!”
Orders began flowing over the com as the various HAV commanders prepped their crews and occupants for battle.
“Report! I want to know who has what coming at them?” the General ordered. He heard various mutterings, then the com went silent. “What’s going on? Report!”
“The movement is gone, sir,” a driver reported.
“I don’t have anything on my scope either,” Colonel Owens agreed. “Anybody else have a bad feeling about this?”
The com went silent once again as the convoy rolled on, all Techs and commanders watching the scans closely.
“Sir?” a Tech behind the General spoke up. “I don’t know what this means, but I am seeing a density anomaly in front of us.”
“Density anomaly? What the shit does that mean?” the General barked.
“The ground, sir,” the Tech responded. “It seems to be thinner about ten meters ahead, I think… Hard to tell, something is playing havoc with the sensors.”
“Did I stutter? Push through!” General Millman ordered once again.
“Your call, sir,” Owens responded. “It could be a trap, though. If so, the lead HAV–your HAV—will be first to find out.”
“Great, Owens,” Millman snarled. “That was really helpful.” He thought for a second, then turned to his driver. “Any alternate routes?”
“No, sir,” the driver answered. “I’ve been checking. We’re boxed in on both sides by sandstone. We have at least another two kilometers before we hit open ground again.”
“Where’s the thin spot, then?”
“Now only five meters ahead, sir,” the Tech answered.
“Sonofabitch,” Millman said as the ground under the General’s HAV began to crack and shatter, sending the massive vehicle plummeting into the darkness.
***
“Why are we stopping?” Billy asked, getting to his feet and moving to the front of the HAV. “We shouldn’t be stopping.”