by N. W. Harris
“Yeah, they probably expected us to come in on the main entrance to the airport,” Jules replied. “This is a service road, and there is a gate under all that trash.”
“Let’s clear a path,” Shane said. “But keep it quiet.”
Anfisa and Tracy took charge, directing the others to drag the debris to the side. It didn’t take long to find the gate, and once there was an opening he could see through, he ordered them to stop.
“It’s too quiet,” Steve said.
The opening was just a few feet wide. Shane could see neat rows of crude shelters beyond the fence, with dwindling campfires between them.
“It looks deserted,” he whispered. “I’d expect to see some guards or something.”
“Or at least someone getting up to take a piss,” Steve replied. “When we looked from the water tower, it was crowded out here. Feels like an ambush.”
“I’m not sure we have much of a choice,” Tracy said. “If we don’t get in there, we’ll be burnt.”
Shane followed her gaze up the street behind them. The wall of green fire made its slow approach. The vegetation and buildings it encountered complained with crackling sounds as they were incinerated. Steve grabbed the gate and pushed it left. It moved, but made a loud screech as it pressed against the rubble.
“That’s enough,” Shane said, cringing.
He looked beyond the fence at the camp surrounding the ship, expecting their opposition to pour from the shelters, ready to defend their camp.
“Somebody had to hear that,” Tracy said.
“Maybe they saw the green wall coming and retreated into the ship,” Anfisa replied.
“We have no choice but to go in,” Shane echoed what Tracy had said.
“File through,” Tracy whispered to the kids behind them. “Take up a defensive position on the other side.”
Shane raised his gun to his shoulder and slipped through the narrow opening in the wall. He squatted just inside, sweeping his barrel left and right and searching for anyone pointing back at him. His friends came in behind him, followed by the Russians.
“Spread out,” he mouthed.
The moonlight left few places to hide, and he didn’t see a soul. The campfires were high and throwing little embers into the air, like they’d recently been fed. Either every kid in the camp had just gone to sleep in their tents, or they were in the ominous pyramid that towered above every building in Atlanta. The layers of balconies and apartments were cast in shadows. A chill passed through him, and he gripped his weapon tighter. Thousands of eyes might be gazing out of the ship, waiting until he and his sad little army got close enough to wipe out.
“Shit’s creepy,” Steve said. “Where’d they all go?”
“Probably running from the green wall, just like us,” Jules replied.
A hissing and crackling sound came from behind them.
“Damn it,” Tracy cursed. “Too close for comfort.”
“Keep moving,” Shane said, looking back at the barrier of rubble they had just passed through.
Green light glowed through openings, and he could see the eerie wall of death less than a football field’s length away. He led them between the shelters, vigilant for the ambush he knew awaited them.
A whistle came from somewhere to his left. Another responded from behind him, and the whistle was repeated across the camp. Kids crawled out of the tents everywhere. Most of them had guns. The ones who didn’t had clubs, knives, and other makeshift weapons. They closed around his group, but kept their guns aimed at the dirt, as if ordered to let his soldiers make the first move.
“Steady,” Shane said, holding his fist in the air to signal his soldiers not to attack.
He held his rifle the same way as the kids who’d corralled them, pointed at the ground. Scanning their faces in the dim moonlight, he waited for one to step forward as their leader.
“Hold up,” a voice from behind the kids surrounding Shane and his people shouted, cutting through the tension.
Across the camp, a small group of kids weaved their way through the tents. The moon glinted off the kid in the front.
“Is that dude wearing a bunch of gold chains?” Steve asked incredulously.
“No,” Maurice said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“That looks like Shamus,” Shane said. His hand tightened around the grip of his weapon, but he kept the barrel down. “I thought he was dead.”
“Where do y’all think you’re going?” Shamus said as he approached. “You need to turn around and go the other way.”
Carrying large silver pistols in each hand, he stepped past the kids closest to Shane’s group and crossed his arms over his chest so the guns rested on either shoulder. He smiled his threatening smile with the gold grill covering his front teeth until his eyes fell on Maurice. Then his face went slack with disbelief.
“It can’t be,” Shamus said. “Maurice?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” Maurice said none too nicely. “Looks like your gang has grown.”
“Yeah.” Shamus smiled again. “I’m big time now.”
Shamus’ gang had killed Aaron. Seeing the smiling thug made him want revenge. Shane pushed the wave of anger aside, knowing this negotiation could save a lot of lives.
“We need to get to that ship,” Shane said. “Let us pass.”
“I never forget a face. I recognize you, too,” Shamus said. He spoke like they were old friends, but he still had his silver pistols resting across his chest like he was ready to start shooting at any moment. “Seems like the last time I saw you, you were trying to bully your way through my city.”
“Yes,” Shane replied, “and lucky we made it or everyone here would already be dead.”
“Maybe,” Shamus said, scratching his chin with the business end of one of the pistols. “So, why do you need to get by me this time? You gonna tell me you’re here to save the world again?”
“Something like that,” Shane replied.
The green fire burned into the wall of debris, drawing their attention. The kids nearest made sounds of alarm and crowded closer to the ship.
“What the hell?” Shamus’s eyes were wide.
“Yeah, that. Greenie,” Shane said. “It has chased us for a hundred miles, pushing us down here to this ship.”
“For what?” The threatening arrogance on Shamus’ face was gone. Now he looked concerned.
“Greenie seems to be communicating with two of my soldiers. They say it wants us to kill all the aliens.” Shane pointed at the ship. “They say if we don’t, it’ll kill all the humans.”
The green wall of fire paused just beyond the first row of tents, like it was giving Shane a chance to talk to Shamus before it pushed them into the ship.
“So,” Shane said, expecting they wouldn’t have long before the fire pressed closer to them. “Who are you fighting for?”
“I’m fighting for my city,” Shamus replied, sounding scared. “And it looks like that thing has burnt it to the ground.”
“It’s moving!” a kid near the green wall shouted.
“And so are we,” Shane said, looking at Shamus. “We are going up the side of that ship. We are going to kill the aliens who killed our parents. Are you going to try to stop us?”
The gangster looked at Greenie and then at Shane.
“Not this time,” Shamus said. “I never liked these bastards anyway. We’ll be behind you.”
Shane nodded, containing his relief behind a stoic expression.
“I think it’s time for our charge,” he said over his shoulder, keeping one eye on Shamus.
“Yes,” Anfisa agreed. “Hit them fast and hard.”
“And before we lose half our troops to that green fire,” Tracy said.
His pulse kicking up to a gallop, Shane put his hand in the air, made a circular motion, and then pointed at the spaceship. He rushed forward. Shamus shouted for the kids under his command to get out of the way and then to follow Shane’s soldiers up the side of the ship.
Shane and his friends had been in this situation so many times, and he’d gotten through without getting shot. He wondered if it was his time to go.
He’d gladly take a bullet for any of his friends, but he had this unshakeable feeling of invincibility. The Anunnaki must’ve felt confident, convincing Shamus and his army of teenagers to join them. But Shane had been able to get them to switch sides, and he guessed the kids behind him now easily outnumbered the enemy above.
He’d made it through so many impossible situations, had skirted death so many times. However, wisdom gained from those experiences told him to ignore the feeling. Their training and experience gave his friends and the Russians an edge, but any of them could die at any moment. It was luck keeping them alive.
They were twenty yards from the base of the ship, headed straight for the staircase that led up the side. Enough light reflected off the marble-colored steps for him to see they weren’t moving. Normally, they flowed up and down, a giant escalator.
“With no power, we’ll have to climb those steps,” Jones warned. He must’ve weaved his way through their army and had slipped to Shane’s left side.
“All I care about is that we keep these people alive,” Shane replied, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “If that green wall pushes us up those stairs, so be it.”
“Aw, damn,” Steve said. “It’s closing in on us.”
The green wall bent around them, incinerating the shelters in its path. Shamus’ kids screamed and rushed ahead of it, packing in around Shane’s people.
“It’s corralling us up the steps,” Jules said.
Mounting the stairs and going up a few, Shane saw his troops had closed ranks, squeezing into a column that could fit up the staircase. The green fire was just behind them, and it had already killed some of the kids who couldn’t move fast enough to get out of the way.
“Don’t stop,” he shouted. “Whatever you do, keep climbing.”
Facing the stairs, he settled into a quick pace up them. His eyes darted left and right as he climbed, expecting the Anunnaki to attack at any moment. It reminded him of the runs up the mountain behind the hidden base when they did the flag-capturing games, except instead of paint balls, it would be bullets that could take them out of the game. And if they stopped, they’d all be burned to death by Greenie.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“The enemy is coming up the stairs, sir,” a Shock Troop soldier reported. “And it looks like the humans the general recruited have turned on us.”
“Not surprising,” Pelros replied. “I don’t think it will matter. We have the high ground, and we still have all the loyal humans waiting on the upper levels of the ship.”
Pelros looked down at the army of humans that was a third of the way up the side of the Pegasus. The green wall of fire had closed in around them, seeming to corral them up the steps.
“They’ll be too weak to fight by the time they make it up here,” the soldier observed.
“Do not underestimate them,” Pelros scolded. “They are led by the humans who destroyed the other recruit ships. Roll the steps.”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied, sounding more concerned. He started to pump the handle that would cause the steps to roll flat and form a slick ramp that would send the humans back to the bottom of the ship.
“It’s not working, sir,” the soldier said after several attempts.
“No surprise,” Pelros replied. “I wouldn’t expect our glowing green enemy would allow us to fend off the humans so easily.”
“General Talus,” Pelros called.
The elder officer, second in command of the soldiers after his uncle, sat on one of the benches off to the side of the top of the steps.
“You have the field, Commander,” Talus calmly replied.
“Yes, sir,” Pelros saluted him.
“You know this enemy better than any officer aboard the Pegasus,” General Talus said, glancing at the other officers as if to reassure them that following Pelros was his order. He returned his gaze to the commander. “Unless you are uncomfortable with the responsibility?”
“No, sir,” Pelros replied. He knew this was his uncle’s doing, but hadn’t been sure the other senior officers would go along with it.
Athos had been grooming him for leadership since he adopted him. The mission to earth may have been a disaster for this fleet, but it accelerated his career more than all the campaigns he’d been on before combined. It seemed only yesterday he was admitted to the Shock Troops and promoted to commander. Now he was to oversee defending the ship. The situation required a serious demeanor, and it took effort not to smile at his good fortune.
“Order the loyal humans to attack,” Pelros said, remaining calm and sounding confident as he’d been taught.
The soldier lifted a torch and swung it back and forth. Seeing the signal, the humans who were hiding in the apartments two thirds of the way up the ship spilled out onto the stairs. He could hear their shouting, and then a barrage of small explosions as the primitive weapons fired small, metal projectiles down upon the enemy.
He strained his eyes against the darkness, trying to spot Jones and his illegal clones among the humans climbing the stairs. Although he knew it was best if the enemy was subdued before they made it up to the Pegasus’ city, he hoped his good fortune would continue and he could be the one to kill the rebel traitor.
“They’re still advancing, sir,” the soldier next to him reported.
With Shamus and his followers behind them, the attackers outnumbered the loyal humans ten to one, and not that many of them could get on the steps or take a position where they could shoot down. The enemy kept low as they climbed, and fired their weapons up at the slaves who jumped into their path.
“It doesn’t appear that the loyal humans will be able to stop them,” Pelros said. “Clear the loyal ones, and turn the mirrors on the enemy.”
He’d been told the engineers had figured out how to weaponize the perpetual light that fell upon the ship’s city, but he hadn’t seen it in action.
The soldier signaled and the loyal humans began spilling off the steps, back onto the courtyards of the apartments. Then the green wall of flames growing up either side of the stairs advanced with the speed of a plasma bolt, rushing up the sides and blocking most of the loyal humans’ exit from the mirrors’ line of fire. The humans in the path of the advancing green walls were turned to ash as it passed through them.
“We don’t have a clean shot,” the engineer operating the closest mirror said.
Pelros could see the small army of humans, led by those rebel-trained teams who’d destroyed the other recruit ships, pushing up the steps. The loyal humans appeared disorganized and frightened from seeing their comrades burned by the green wall. The enemy slaughtered the undisciplined loyal humans and drew closer to the city.
“Use the mirrors on them now,” he ordered, glancing over at General Talus.
The general nodded his approval.
“But, sir, we’ll kill all the slaves,” the engineer said. “We’ll have to burn through them to hit the enemy.”
“We must stop their advance,” Pelros replied, casting a warning glance at the engineer. “Do it now.”
“Aye, sir,” the engineer answered, sounding nervous. Though he was a sailor and not accustomed to this sort of combat, every person in the Anunnaki military knew disobeying a superior officer’s orders during battle was punishable by death.
The mirrors captured light from the entire perimeter of the Pegasus’ city, directing it around so it met at one mirror that was above Pelros and centered on the steps. It released the concentrated energy in a thick beam that shot out away from the ship. The engineers turned the mirror slowly, adjusting the aim so the beam went down the steps. Heat radiated from the beam, forcing Pelros and the others standing at the top of the steps to squat down.
Shielding his face and eyes, Pelros moved left, finding a better position to assess the weapon’s effect. It hi
t the loyal humans trapped on the steps, lighting them on fire and sending them tumbling down in an avalanche of molten flesh. The engineers fine-tuned the beam, making it more intense. Row by row, it burned through all the humans on the steps, killing the loyal ones and then hitting the ones who had held him captive.
He knew Jones had to be near the front of the humans who’d led the charge up the steps. A soldier handed Pelros some protective glasses. He slid them on and watched the enemy dance in flames before dropping dead, wondering which one was the rebel who spawned him. Pelros waited to see if he’d feel any remorse over watching his father die, if their genetic connection would cause him to feel sad over the loss. A grin rose on his face instead. He’d killed the rebel who’d cast a shadow over him all his life. Pelros was finally free.
The blazing light passed through the humans and into the green wall. It impacted the tarmac, blasting a hole and sending concrete and molten asphalt showering across what had been the camp for the loyal humans around the base of the ship. The light cast by the beam allowed him to see the ruin left by the green wall when it passed through the camp. It had burned everything to small piles of ashes for as far as he could see.
This glowing green enemy might have done the same to the entire planet. He felt a chill despite the blistering heat coming from the beam of light, wondering about his home planet of Anu.
“That’s enough,” he shouted to the engineer.
The mirrors rotated out of sequence, and the beam of light vanished. Pelros blinked at the darkness below him, trying to force them to adjust so he could see if they had eliminated the threat. The walls of green fire still blocked off the lower part of the steps and prevented any access to and from the steps and the apartments on either side. He could see a few of the humans on the steps moving, dying from their burns. Not even one of them still stood.
“It appears we are victorious, sir,” the soldier holding the signal torch said.
“I’d expect more bodies down on the lower parts of the steps, where they were standing,” Pelros replied, squinting his eyes for a better view.