by Isaiah Lee
Control panels lined one section of wall that spread about thirty feet. Circular seats were scattered here and there; a few had even been knocked over. It seemed as if the sudden breech by the resistance caught the aliens off guard. He guessed it was possible they’d never fully recovered from the apparent crash-landing. He couldn’t help but notice that crash-landings seemed fairly common with this invading species. It was possible that Earth’s gravity or magnetic fields negatively affected their ships or navigational technology.
Jason headed for the controls. There were obvious similarities between the ship he flew and these panels. There were also major differences. He pointed to a pair of controls. “I’m assuming those are flight and steering controls. I don’t know what the rest of this shit is.”
He took the pack off his shoulder as one of the men poked and prodded at a panel. A humming noise below them began and a thud sound echoed through the various levels of the ship. “Hey, don’t touch shit!” he commanded.
The soldier cursed something under his breath about how “this fucker thinks he’s in charge and don’t know shit” but refused to make eye contact as he huffed away.
“We don’t know what these are. We don’t know what that noise was. We would be better off to blow the control panels along with any communications devices we find.”
On the opposite side of the rounded, oblong flight deck of sorts was an array of what resembled electrical wires, coils, and transformers similar to what one might find at a power substation. Sections were tightly wound, strands of the cord-like material disappearing into the walls, ceiling, and floor.
A large, circular panel was illuminated beside the monstrosity. Symbols and markings appeared and disappeared too quickly to recognize any patterns, but it could have passed for a written form of communication.
Jason pulled a small, rectangular device from his pack. He slid a button on the side, activating the device. It reminded him slightly of a Geiger counter.
“What is that?” Cooper leaned in closer as he attempted to get a glimpse of the device.
It beeped a low tone. Seconds later, it beeped again, this time steadily holding a slightly higher pitch. “This… thing is letting off some sort of signals. This has something to do with communications.”
“What kind of signals would that be?” Cooper questioned.
Jason laughed. “Hell if I know.” He walked closer to one of the cylinders and watched the display grow. “It doesn’t tell me what kind of signals these are,” he indicated one of the bars that had grown as he neared the device. “Just that these are what we are going to blow.”
He unloaded the bombs from his pack and knelt to position them. Karen removed her pack from her shoulder and mimicked Jason’s movements. Satisfied with their placement choices, the duo stood and began to retreat.
“What’s the range on the remotes?” Karen wondered aloud.
“I guess we’ll see,” Jason answered.
Cooper hurried and chimed in. “I think we should at least move down one floor before we blow anything. We don’t know how sound this structure is. These bombs could potentially bring the whole damned place down.”
“I agree,” another of the men said. It was the one who was bitching about Jason thinking he was in charge. He was all too happy to see Jason blown up. “Everybody who doesn’t have to push the button should move to a lower level.”
Jason nodded. “I have the remote, I’ll press the button.” He turned to Karen. “Go with Cooper and the others. I won’t be far behind.”
Chapter 39
Karen, Cooper, and the other six soldiers proceeded back down the narrow, slick ramp to the lowest floor. Karen called up, letting Jason know that they were all back down to the bottom, hopefully safe.
Jason crossed his fingers and descended one level. He held the remote above his head and pressed the button. His heart beat rapidly upon realizing nothing had happened.
“Shit!” he cursed under his breath. He moved closer, trying to keep close proximity to the ramp heading down. He pressed again.
No results.
Jason checked the remote. There was a red indicator light blinking slowly. The batteries had juice, the remote was active. He glanced toward the bombs. He saw several blinking indicator lights from across the room. They were active as well. It must be something in this room. Something was inhibiting the signal from his remote to the bombs. He wondered what other Earthly signals the alien crafts could inhibit.
He raised his assault rifle and crouched to steady his aim. He knew not what may happen if he missed and simply damaged the communications array without completely destroying it; still, something must be done. He fired one shot, which missed wildly.
He breathed deep before firing again. This one struck the closest bomb.
The explosion that ensued rocked the entire nest. Massive fissures in the structure began to open as daylight spilled through. Smoke instantly filled Jason’s vision as he felt his way backwards to the ramp. A section of the roof broke free and slammed to the floor Jason was standing on.
He lost his footing and rolled back, nearly falling off the ramp. He managed to catch himself at the last moment and began the long trek downward. Before he could get down another level, more ship above him broke loose and slammed above his head. Cracks webbed out from the impact point as small chunks began to rain down.
Jason moved at nearly a sprint as he slipped, tumbled, and bounced his way down the narrow deathtrap of a ramp.
“Run!” Jason screamed as he neared the bottom. “It’s caving!”
The soldiers began to retreat as they heard Jason’s cries. Karen stood with her feet planted. She was numb; despite everything in her body telling her that she needed to run, Karen couldn’t move. She was watching Jason as he grew nearer, listening as he screamed at her. But she could not bring herself to leave without him.
“Karen, it’s collapsing!”
His voice echoed in her head. She watched as his lips moved. Listened as the structure above them – around them – was crumbling. Still, she didn’t move until Jason reached her position and tugged her along by her sleeve.
“Karen, we’ve got to go!” He pulled her along and refused to relinquish his grip on her.
With Jason by her side, they retraced their steps down the greyish, empty octagonal hallway to the hangar. Daylight shone through portions of the hangar where the roof had already collapsed.
Cooper and his gang were nowhere to be seen now; they already evacuated back to the original hallway where the blocked entrance had now been opened by soldiers on the outside.
Jason ran as he pulled Karen behind him. They reached the last hallway as the entirety of the hangar collapsed in a smoking ruin. Smoke enveloped the pair as they ran, blinding them and making movement by sight impossible.
Voices from outside the structure – Cooper, his soldiers, and more resistance fighters outside the nest – screamed and called for Karen and Jason. Jason held one arm in front of him, the other keeping a death grip on Karen, as he felt the way out of the structure. Finally, the voices seemed to grow louder over the din of the collapsing ship.
Up ahead, the smoke seemed to grow thinner. Rays of light began to appear through the swirling smoke as it escaped the structure.
Finally, Jason emerged, practically dragging Karen, from the hole in the side of the ship.
The remainder of the nest collapsed moments after they were free. Smoke shrouded the second floor of the parking deck for minutes before it began to dissipate.
As his vision cleared, Jason noticed that the second floor roof of the parking deck had been destroyed. It lay in chunks, littering the second floor of the parking garage. Explains why I saw light, he thought.
Alien crafts, helicopters, tanks, and APCs littered nearly every surrounding surface. Casualties had been high for the resistance; well over a thousand soldiers were thought to be dead, but it was just an early estimate.
President James Neil limped his way t
hrough the crowd to where Karen and Jason sat, gasping for fresh, uncontaminated air. “You did it!” he called out as he slowly approached. “You actually did it!”
Jason glanced up and poked at Karen. “I never thought we’d see you again, sir,” Jason admitted. “The way you rode in, guns blazing.”
Neil laughed. “I’m a tough ol’ buzzard!” He reached out and took Jason’s hand. He shook it vigorously. “It’s good to see you two alive!”
“It’s good to be alive.” Karen laughed. She couldn’t think of what else to do with the rush of emotions that overcame her. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“We took some casualties. Those bastards seemed to keep pouring out of that nest. What went on in there, anyway? You were just supposed to destroy whatever communications equipment they had.”
“When we detonated the bombs, there was a cascading effect. You saw it.”
“Yeah, we all watched as the structure began to collapse,” Neil snorted. “Damn fine work, you two. All of you,” he said, pointing toward Cooper and his soldiers.
“When did you open the path back on the side of the structure, where we got in at?” Karen asked. She collapsed to the ground, absolutely exhausted from the exertion. Jason knelt to her aid and pulled her weight onto his wobbly, noodle legs.
“They used one of the tanks and pushed the chopper remains out of the way. We were about to send more soldiers in when you all started pouring back out.”
Jason glanced out at the carnage. “Did any of the aliens get away?”
“I’m happy to report,” Neil said as he smiled wide. It was a genuine, sincere gesture. “Total genocide of the Qspolian race, at least here at PNF6.”
Chapter 40
Pisgah National Forest Disaster Survival Bunker Six, PNF6, was originally built underground underneath the mall. On the east wing of the mall, one of the department stores was built with two stories of storefront, along with a service elevator and loading dock accessible on the backside of the second floor. It connected to the parking garage, giving the resistance army a straight shot into what remained of the department store.
Very little remained of the department store.
The service elevator, similar to the one in Ithaca at Young & Buck’s, offered employees access to the stockroom. It also led to the top floor of PNF6.
President Neil motioned for one of the soldiers nearby and commandeered the man’s radio. He spoke into the handset, explaining who he was and what was going on.
No answer, save for the electronic hum of static. Not a surprise.
There was no infrastructure to communicate with the survival bunkers other than the dedicated methods within the bunkers themselves. The only way to guarantee contact was to breech the security measures and send an extraction team down the elevator.
God only knew what may be waiting on them at the bottom of the elevator shaft. It was theoretically possible – fairly probable, in fact – that the aliens already found access to PNF6 themselves and made mincemeat of the survivors.
He pressed the button on the side of the radio again and spoke loudly. “PNF6, do you copy? This is President James Neil. Extraction teams are ready. Hello?”
James Neil sighed and lowered the radio to his side. He feared the worst, that it was somehow too late and that everyone in the bunker was toast. Or Qspolian food. Still, he put on a brave face. “We need volunteers. Who is willing to travel into PNF6 and see what’s going on? We only need twenty to twenty-five soldiers.”
At first, nobody raised their hand or spoke up. These were civilians. Many of them had barely survived by the skin of their teeth. They most definitely weren’t trained at extraction in a possibly hostile, underground environment. Without communication, it was impossible to tell what they would be exposing themselves to.
On the other hand, it was also a possibility that the bunker had survived as intended and that everyone below ground was simply waiting to be saved.
Slowly, two sets of hands rose. They were extremely close to the president and his mouth nearly dropped open when he saw who the hands were attached to.
Jason and Cooper.
“Sir, I would be more than happy to join this mission,” Cooper said.
Jason agreed. “Give me a few minutes to catch my breath. And reload,” he said quieter.
Karen nodded. “I’ll go too, James.”
One by one, others around began to volunteer. Whether it was guilt that these three volunteers had literally just emerged from a separate daring mission, or some other similarly burdening feeling, hands began to rise.
At number twenty, James Neil stopped the crowd. It wasn’t as if he had to hurry and stop the crowd; volunteers moved slowly, cautiously, about possibly signing their death sentence. “You twenty, gather ‘round.” He waited for the soldiers to huddle around before continuing. “We are unsure what we will be facing down there. Assuming we can make it down the elevator shaft in the first place, there is no telling if there is anyone alive. We don’t know if there is an alien presence. Every variable is unknown. If you are still willing to join this mission, stock up on ammunition and weapons. Anything you can carry may prove beneficial in the long run.”
Eighteen men, and two women, scurried back into the crowd. They reached and grabbed for weapons and extra magazines, stuffing every pocket and crevice full to the brim.
Jason and Karen did the same, raiding the stockpile that had been loaded into the back of an APC. Cooper followed suit, shouldering an assault rifle and a sniper. The M39 sniper rifle, cartridged in 7.62mm, packed a wallop with its twenty-round clip and semiautomatic firing capability.
Cooper whistled as he molested the weapon. “This is beautiful,” he mused. He flipped it over in his hands and tested its weight.
“It’s all yours,” Neil told him as he patted the man on the shoulder. “You know how to use that?” he asked mockingly.
“No promises,” Cooper countered. “But I’m willing to give it the old college try.”
“That’s all I could ask for.”
They continued their banter for a few moments until the others began to congregate around them. “Everyone ready? Then let’s get down there and see about extraction President Neil began to march, exaggerating each movement for the sake of show, toward the opposite side of the parking garage.
The door to the department store was no longer a door; rather it was a thirty-foot wide chasm in the concrete façade of the building. The group made their way into the space, what used to be the women’s intimates section, and glanced around for an elevator. Everyone kept their weapon to their shoulder, ready to blow any living aliens to hell, or whatever respective after world awaited the Qspolians.
Across the store hung a wide, red and black banner indicative of the tool section. A section of the roof had collapsed into the selection of toolboxes, power tools, and lawn-scalping equipment. One of the men in the group swore, a low, gruff sound that nearly scared the woman beside him out of her boots.
“Oh, God! What is it?” She panicked, swinging her gun wildly in the direction of the man’s voice.
He held his hands up as a stupid grin crossed his face. “No, no. Nothing. I just meant… you know… the tools.” He pointed at the plastic and steel graveyard, shaking his head at the meaningless loss. “What if I wanted a skill saw or zero-turn lawnmower? I’d be genuinely fucked!”
“You’re gonna be genuinely fucked if you scare me like that again,” the woman blurted as she stomped ahead. She immediately regretted the comment as she realized what she’d said and how it would be taken.
The man mocked a moan. “Is that a promise?”
“Alright, knock it off, you two,” another voice piped up. “We don’t need this shit right now.”
If looks could kill, the man who just spoke would be strung up, bleeding out from every orifice. The offending man, who had surprisingly learned to shut his mouth, glared daggers.
Neil broke the ensuing awkward silence. “We’re lookin
g for a service elevator. Likely, it is in the storage in the back of the store. Move out.”
The advancing party reached a set of double doors, the kind that open in or out and keep shoppers in the designated shopping area while also keeping the storage area easily accessible for stockers pushing pallets around, and cautiously pushed them open.
Two men rushed inside turning and checking each side of the entryway.
“Clear.”
“Clear!” The second voice was much, much louder than the first. Nearing a scream, in fact. The man was nervous, and it showed. His outburst was embarrassing and instantly caused his neck and face to flush.
“There, an elevator,” Karen said, pointing to the side of the room. She had nearly missed it, hidden behind a multitude of crates, pallets, and otherwise useless items.
The button indicating down was unlit; the rest of the store was dark and had no sort of emergency lighting. From first glance, the elevator appeared to be disabled.
Karen pressed the elevator call button and waiting as nothing happened. She impatiently pressed it again.
Silence.
“Well, shit,” she swore. “What now? Is there a secretive staircase somewhere? Do they have backup power like the bunker in Ithaca?”
President Neil strode up beside her and made a show of pressing the button harder. He nearly punched the plastic disc. “Unfortunately, no. I don’t recall any sort of secondary entrance to PNF6 mentioned in the files. As far as backup power goes,” he said as he slammed his hand against the button again. “Yes. Theoretically, there should be a secondary power source for the bunker which operates the elevator.”
A low hum became audible at that moment. It was very faint; only a few of the soldiers heard it.
“Secondary power source,” Karen nodded. “Sounds like it may be working.”
Sure enough, moments later a mechanical chime sounded on the outside of the elevator shaft. The steel doors slowly opened, revealing a bare elevator that could fit approximately fifty people. James ushered the group on and waited for the doors to shut. There was only one button on the panel, which wasn’t lit up either, practically begging to be pressed.