After night fell, Eagle One went airborne once more, hugging the ground and relying on Knox's recollection of radar zones to weave their way across Tennessee into Mississippi.
However, with Hauser the only Eagle-trained pilot, they had to stop for a few hours of rest before he fell asleep at the sticks. He chose a landing spot alongside the Tennessee River. While Hauser slept, Gordon and Nina replenished the ship's tanks.
As they continued their journey, Knox's knowledge of radar stations combined with the computer maps onboard helped them avoid air defense systems. They stopped to refuel water at the Toledo Bend Reservoir on the Texas/Louisiana border then pushed on through the day into the night to the Rio Grande.
At that point, Eagle One could go no farther. An extensive net of radar installations and surveillance Eagles kept a close watch on the Mexican border. There would be no flying over it.
The Eagle carried a pair of personal hover crafts based on reverse-engineered Mutant bikes resembling a cross between a jet ski and a snowmobile.
While Hauser and Odin the Elkhound remained behind to guard the ship, Nina and Gordon crossed the border at high speed heading south toward Monterrey.
---
They rode all night, moving much too fast to be distracted by shadows in old towns, specks of fire on the horizon, or wild beasts.
According to surveys conducted before Gordon "retired" from his post as Director of Intelligence, most of northern Mexico remained a dangerous wasteland prowled by predators as well as human bandits in coastal areas.
The two followed the main roads heading south, using the powerful front headlights of the hover bikes to illuminate the path in fifty yard stretches. On more than one occasion they felt the presence of airborne predators overhead, but even those hunters could not keep pace with the determined riders.
Three hours before dawn, the two found shelter among the remains of an abandoned Mexican army convoy covered in a decade of dust, including an intact armored vehicle. More specifically, a World War II vintage half-track painted in modern camouflage patterns. Nina could not believe Gordon when he told her that such an old vehicle had, in fact, been a part of the Mexican armed forces at the time of the invasion.
Regardless, they spent a few hours catching some sleep within the relative security of the abandoned vehicle. As the first flickers of dawn's approach glowed orange on the horizon, a sound stirred the travelers awake; a low rumble of a sound.
They exited the temporary shelter and scanned the fields of broken buildings, brush, and foothills around the deserted convoy. After a moment, they realized the rumble came from the south; it came from Monterrey.
Nina and Gordon mounted their rides and hurried off in that direction surrounded by the shadows of morning twilight. The whiz and whir of the speeding hovercraft could not block out the growing roar of the noise, but it was not until they climbed the brush-covered hills northeast of the ruins of Monterrey that they could trace the source of the sound.
Nina dropped to her belly and wiggled forward amidst the dusty ground and dried sage at the crest of the mountain. Her black tank top and green BDUs quickly grew covered in powdered dirt. Gordon knelt low beside her with a pair of binoculars in his hand. The sun—while still very new that day—grew hot fast, drying the air.
Towering above the city to the south were the Sierra Madre Oriental Mountains. That range trailed off into the distance in a line of dramatic ridges and steeply banked slopes of brown and fading green. The sound that had roused them from their slumber reverberated everywhere, like a million heads of cattle stampeding.
Between their position and those mountains lay several square miles of what had once been Monterrey. The rising sun shed light on the devil's work.
"What the Hell is this?" Nina's brow furled tight but her mouth fell wide open.
She expected to see the singed and melted remains of the city and the Centurian base. Indeed, the smoldering smoke rising from the flattened ruins there did not surprise her, she had witnessed the handiwork of dreadnought belly boppers before.
However, it did surprise them to find that half of those ruins were gone, combed neat and flat into graded dirt. Indeed, the view from the hill resembled a before and after advertisement for a vacuum cleaner: the western side of the city cleansed of debris with only sand-like dirt remaining. The east still a tangled mess of flattened concrete, melted metal, and scorched land with the tallest piles of debris rising no more than six feet.
"Good God," Gordon mumbled in a choppy voice. "It's…it's being erased."
The droning sound came from a swirling cloud hovering and moving southward nearly a mile away from Nina and Gordon's observation point. At the rear of that cloud shot streams of freshly-cleaned dirt, for some reason reminding Nina of the combine harvesters on the farms in her home town in Pennsylvania.
Something worked within that cloud, but it hid inside one of the last remaining shadows at the base of the mountain peaks. Nonetheless, the path the thing followed was easy to see, in its wake it left flat, featureless soil.
"They're cleaning it all up," Knox managed a better handle on his words. "Whatever evidence is down there….we have to hurry."
Nina and Gordon retrieved their hover bikes and swooped down the hill. At the base of that hill stretched a field of debris so flat that the two could see—unhindered—all the way across the remains of town to where that large dust cloud moved at the base of the mountains.
They stopped at a series of stone blocks piled one atop each other to the height of five feet. They stopped because that great cloud on the far side of the old city began to pivot as it reached the end of another line of cleansing. As it turned to head north—to head toward Nina and Gordon—the veil of dust blew off, revealing the machine.
It stretched a half a mile long from side to side and rose some fifty feet into the air. It took Nina's eyes several seconds to understand what she saw. At first, her mind likened the sight to the head of a gigantic push broom, but with squirming bristles. As the dust dissipated, she thought it more a long, hovering wing with thousands of tubes hanging down to the ground, each scrubbing the earth below while a great suction of wind scooped up burnt buildings, melted cars, broken planks, and shattered steel.
It moved slow and methodic tearing away the old, sifting through the mess, and leaving behind a trail of soil cleaned of any evidence the ruins of Monterrey might hold.
"Listen, we have to get in there and find something."
Gordon said, "If I'm right, you're going to need a Centurian body. I'm thinking a head alone would do the trick."
A flash from somewhere between them and the machine caught both their eyes. A stream of liquid light tore between the two people and slammed into the stone pillars. Those pillars evaporated into grains of sand. The explosion knocked both Nina and Gordon from their mounts.
"It's armed!"
Nina corrected, "No. There's something else out there."
She dared a peek from a prone position. Far away the great machine did its work, ripping evidence from the ground a half-mile at a time. But closer…about five hundred yards away…Nina spotted three dark figures, each standing nearly eight feet tall and spread in a picket line with fifty yards between one another.
She raised binoculars for a better view.
The machine's guardians wore dark cloaks, hiding any features. They walked in determined but slow steps, traversing the ground ahead of the cleansing unit. As she watched, one of the two robed arms raised. She saw something that resembled the exhaust end of a jet engine. A golden ball glowed from its end—
"Get down!"
Another blast of energy streaked toward the infiltrators. It missed high and slammed into the hillside behind them where it knocked great clumps of rock and dirt off a ridge.
"Damn it," Knox groaned. "We can't get anything with these things around!"
Nina's head snapped around and she glared at him through slits-for-eyes. In that instant he clearly saw that she woul
d not retreat after having come so far.
"I'll take care of this."
Before he could protest, Nina jumped into the saddle of her hover bike. While one hand worked the throttle, her other hand slipped the sword from her leg.
Meanwhile, Gordon pulled a Dessert Eagle .44 from a thigh rig and gripped it tight.
Nina kept working the throttle as she swept to the east flying over the remains of the city. One of the things defending the machine raised its arm, took aim, and fired, but its weapon moved too slow and too clumsy to hit the speeding craft.
Like a dive bomber aiming for a target, she turned the hover bike hard and accelerated at the robed creatures. As she did, she spied another glob of gold…she waited…waited…and jogged to her left as the watery fire streamed by.
Faster…faster…her sword raised…the creature turned to try and follow her approach but moved too slow.
Her sword—moving with her at an incredible speed—slammed into the thing's outstretched gun. The impact nearly threw her from the bike. And then she was passed, her sword still in her hand but her elbow aching from a near-hyperextension.
She dared a glance behind in time to see golden energy consume the thing from the inside out. Its robe exploded in a sunburst. As it did, she saw the hood fall away revealing a translucent skull encasing an organic brain above a metallic jaw. Two eyes—maybe lenses, maybe flesh—bulged from the face of the thing.
Nina turned forward in time to see that she closed on the massive eraser machine. The roar of its toil blocked out all other noise. She felt the first pull of sucking wind. She saw the feelers reaching to the ground and scrubbing away traces of the Centurian base.
She banked hard and sought out the other two robed defenders, accelerating toward another of the guardians. It fired and missed as she raised her sword…closed the distance…
BLAM!
Her ride wobbled. She yanked the handle grip brakes. A yellow blast from the farthest away of the two remaining creatures changed her course. Her bike slammed into the eight-foot tall robot she had intended to decapitate, knocking it over and her from her mount. She fell amidst a pile of twisted, blackened metal beams.
Sword in hand, she staggered to her feet, ignoring the sting of a laceration in her upper arm and fighting a wobble in her walk.
The creature she had collided with remained on its back for the moment. Nina swiveled about to spy the other robotic guardian, the one that had scored a near-hit on her hover bike. It stood fifty yards away with its gun barrel preparing to target her again.
Before it could fire, Gordon Knox zipped in behind the monster on his own ride, pulled his automatic cannon, and with both hands gripping the pistol he fired again and again and again at close range. The heavy shells tore through the robe and into the machine-body beneath. A series of electrical surges burst from the thing, knocking off its hood and revealing a frying brain and chattering jaw.
The creature stopped working and froze in place.
Nina's eyes found Gordon with the intention of saying thank you. He, however, urgently pointed behind her where the last guardian rose to its feet like Dracula rising from his coffin in a melodramatic horror movie.
Just as important, the clean-up craft approached. Dust and debris kicked into the sky. The tubes hanging from the floating wing cast their shadow over the two people and the one remaining machine.
The suction pulled off the robot's hood. She saw the blood and juices of a living brain hardwired into the circuits and metallic chassis of a humanoid robot.
Its jaw dropped open in what might have been a smile. Its gun rose.
Nina leapt forward, her sword slashing in both hands. The blade struck into its shoulder and slid across into a solid neck. Sparks burst; part of the robe caught fire.
As she jumped onto her hover bike to escape, the damaged guardian was caught in the suction of the giant eraser machine, disappearing with the rest of the junk to be crushed and sifted until nothing but dust remained.
With time running out, Nina and Gordon moved to the last remains of the Centurian facility. They found control panels and bulkheads, the nose cone of a transport, and computer equipment. But most important, they found the melted remains of bodies, little more than black goo stuck to tattered red and white body armor.
Gordon found the upper half of an armored Centurian intact, save for legs. He threw it on the back of his ride and they rocketed away. A minute later, the massive machine sucked in the final pieces of the Centurian base cleansing it from the Earth.
The two investigators stopped in the foothills beyond the cleaner's reach. There Gordon removed the dead alien's helmet, revealing big black eyes and fine green skin...fine green skin covered in red blotches.
"What do we need to find?"
Gordon pulled out a hunting knife and sliced open the fried corpse.
"Those blotches are the first clue, remember? Now if we're lucky…"
The skull fell apart in Knox's hands. There amidst the decaying remains of the alien's gray matter he found what he sought: a petrified little creature—also long dead—about the size and shape of a slug.
"And there you have it, Captain."
Nina gazed at the tiny thing, knowing that at some time in her past two such creatures had violated her body and mind; that such a creature had robbed her of a year of memories.
She said, "I've never seen this before. I'm just saying, I never heard of them infecting one of the other aliens, only humans."
"Me neither," Gordon agreed as he wiped a glob of sweat from his forehead. "But whatever way you cut it, it wasn't the Redcoats who assassinated Trevor, it was The Order."
"What is going on?"
Knox said, "I don't know for sure, but I've got a feeling we're running out of time."
21. Sacrifices
Ashley raced to the glass sliding door in the kitchen that led to the rear deck in response to the roar flying overtop the house. First the sand of the beach rustled and tossed, then it turned into a maelstrom, obscuring the ocean view.
As she watched the Witiko Stingray descend to the beach, her belly fluttered anxiously. Bits and pieces—observations—from recent days tied together, such as Tucker hurrying out of ear shot to answer a radio call and a feeling of unease from the four agents guarding her family. It seemed they could not look her in the eye and as she watched the alien craft land behind her summer cottage she instinctively knew that those bits and pieces led to this, whatever ‘this’ was.
It settled to the ground on feet-like metallic landing gear. A ramp extended from the side of the black and silver ship. Two Witiko aliens wearing their shiny cosmetic and carrying rifles came out flanking a human with jet black hair whose pearly white teeth sparkled as he spoke something to his escort.
Ashley knew she needed to act. In a split second she decided that the three of them—Ashley, Jorge, and her father Benjamin—would bolt for the garage and drive off. She turned--
Tucker grabbed her arm hard enough to leave a bruise.
"Just stay here. Don't move now."
Before she could respond, a man and a woman agent hustled Jorgie toward the sliding glass door. He still wore the tan shorts and black polo she dressed him in that morning.
"Mommy? What's going on, Mommy? They said they're taking me somewhere."
Her son's voice sounded calm but his eyes darted from her to the security guards and to the ship outside.
She growled to the guards, "You're not going anywhere."
"Yes," Tucker corrected as he opened the sliding glass door, "he is."
Brad Gannon stood on the deck alongside the pair of Witiko. He put both hands on his knees and stooped to speak to JB at the boy's eye level.
"Hey there, buddy, wanna go for a ride in a spaceship? Whatdya say?"
JB glared at Brad Gannon.
Ashley stepped to intercept. Tucker shoved her against the wall.
"Stop!" shouted Benjamin Trump as he stormed into the kitchen wielding a golf club.
>
Tucker took his hand off Ashley and pulled an automatic pistol, but she grabbed at his arm, forcing the gun high where it blasted away a chunk of plaster.
However, a fat agent with a goatee hustled in behind grandpa Trump, relieving him of the club and bracing him against the kitchen counter.
Tucker shoved the barrel under Ashley’s chin.
"No! No please!" JB screamed as tears burst from his eyes. "I'll go! I'll go with you!"
Tucker calmed and removed the gun from the woman's face, but kept a hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, just, easy goes it, okay? He'll be back in a few days," Gannon delivered his lines with the same poor acting he had been known for in the old world. "Some pretty important people want to meet you."
"You can't get away with this," Ashley's voice wavered as she realized the pretense had ended; they were prisoners.
"You shut up," Tucker spoke with a previously unheard meanness. "You're doing what I say from now on. That's right, princess, you ain't nothing anymore. I'm giving the orders."
Brad Gannon gained custody of JB from the bodyguards.
Ashley felt a wave of fear and rage tear through her like a bomb exploding in her belly. Her teeth clenched and she rolled her hands into fists. No man, no alien would take her child.
But Tucker saw it coming. As she lunged forward he walloped her with a back hand, knocking the first lady of Trevor’s Empire to the linoleum floor, her senses spinning to the verge of unconsciousness.
She managed only enough strength to reach for the glass of the sliding door, as if trying to grab the alien ship her son boarded before it flew off over the Atlantic Ocean.
---
Evan Godfrey nodded politely and smiled, doing his best to appear engaged in the conversation. It was important, he knew, for the President to appear interested in the people's problems. They were, after all, his people.
Beyond Armageddon IV: Schism Page 36