Day of Reckoning

by Isaiah Lee

  Jason pushed the button, sending the deathtrap into motion. Unlike ordinary elevators, this service elevator appeared run-down and ill maintained. It creaked and groaned as it lowered the bunch, screaming its protest for the entirety of the trip.

  It proved a truly terrifying hell-ride as it lurched, occasionally bumping as if the cables were splitting. Its echoes seemed impossibly loud, given the constraints of the shaft.

  Upon reaching the bottom, the doors slid open. Armed soldiers stood outside the shaft, aiming their guns right at the president and his soldiers.

  Chapter 41

  “Who the fuck are you?” a squirrely man with fiery-red, shoulder-length hair demanded to know.

  “My name is James Neil. I am the President of the United States. We…”

  He was cut off mid-sentence. “Bull shit.” The syllables were drawn out by the man’s drawl. “This here ain’t no president o’ mine. ‘Sides, don’t hardly matter now, anyway. You’ll soon be dead.”

  The man leveled his gun into the crowd and fired a single shot. The man standing to the left behind President Neil fell to the floor. His forehead had been shattered, the bullet ending his life before his body crashed onto the cold surface below.

  “Now, you’d be wise to drop your weapons. That or you’ll join your friend there.” He pointed to the lifeless corpse as it bled out onto the floor.

  “What the fuck was that for?” somebody in the elevator asked.

  Red couldn’t see who spoke. Instead of directing his answer towards anyone in particular, he turned his aim toward Neil. “Shall I?”

  “Lower your weapons…” Neil croaked. “Why did you kill him?”

  “He was reachin’ into his pocket. I’m certain he had a handgun. Can’t have strangers come down and kill my men.”

  “So instead you kill mine.” Neil’s face was stolid, his deadpan voice betraying nothing of his emotions. He gave a pause for Red to speak. When he received no answer, he tried his explanation again. “We’ve been calling on the radio. We have come to rescue you and the other residents here.”

  “Rescue? Rescue us from what? We came down here to avoid them fuckin’ aliens. We don’t need no rescuin’.Why would we wish to go back up to the surface?”

  “To join the resistance, for one. To fight for the continued survival of the human race.”

  Red scratched his chin as one of his lackeys answered in his stead. “You’d ask us to leave the safety of our bunker to fight and die for you?”

  “Not at all what I’m saying. We came to rescue the inhabitants of this bunker. Are you aware that an alien ship crash-landed right above your precious bunker? Yeah, didn’t think so. My soldiers here,” Neil pointed toward Cooper, Jason, and Karen, “entered that ship and killed every last one of those creatures.”

  The man stood silently as he listened. He offered no understanding of the events that had occurred. He acknowledged nothing that the president said. What he did do, though, was start pacing.

  President Neil continued. “If you do not wish to join us and fight for humanity, so be it. But I ask that you do not kill any more of my soldiers. We’re needed elsewhere. There are others out there fighting for survival right now. Thousands of people who may not have a chance of survival other than to be rescued. If you’ll have no compassion for mankind, so be it. Just let us go.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” the man answered. “Y’all are comin’ with us,” he sniggered.

  ◆◆◆

  Red and his crew pushed and prodded the newcomers further into the bunker. PNF6 was laid out entirely different from WDC2. There were only two floors. The bottom floor served as storage and housed utilities and long-term infrastructure. The main floor, being the top floor, housed over five hundred survivors; all of whom, it seemed, were in the banquet room at that exact moment. All of whom wore expressions of hatred, fear, or indifference.

  Not exactly the time to feel claustrophobic.

  President Neil and his men were ushered into the banquet room and pushed into a corner, surrounded by the bunker’s inhabitants. Most of the inhabitants were armed.

  “Why have you come here?”

  Neil blew from exhaustion. He was tired and everything ached. What he wouldn’t give for a hot shower and a place in bed beside his beautiful wife right now. Oh well, no sense in focusing on things that were not within his control. “We came here, to Asheville I mean, to destroy an alien nest – presumably an interstellar cargo and personnel carrier – that is sitting right above your heads. I’m sure you felt the explosions.”

  Many bunker residents shot their eyes upward as if they could see the monstrosity through that much dirt and concrete.

  “PNF6, this bunker, was listed as a bunker that had civilian presence. We came here, with an army thousands-strong, to save the people in this bunker.”

  James saw the expressions change around him. These people wanted to be saved. These people wanted to help the cause. But apparently this man – Red, as he had decidedly been called after taking control of the bunker – had gotten too big for his britches, so to speak. He took it upon himself, when none opposed him, to provide an authority figure to an otherwise lawless community.

  The man with the uncontrollable fiery hair was called out by an unseen face in the crowd. “Red!”

  Red turned, scanning the faces around him as he tried to spot the speaker

  The man spoke again. His voice boomed, an authoritative tone that would have intimidated even the most stalwart man. As he spoke, the crowd around him began to part. Within seconds, he could see Red without hindrance. “That is our president you’re speakin’ to like that. First of all, have some respect for the man.” Red didn’t immediately argue, so the man continued. “Second, do you really expect to hold all of us here against our will? They’ve come to rescue us. They’ve come to get us out of this damned hole in the ground.”

  “They’ve come to kill you all,” Red countered. “They’ve come to take over our bunker because they must have lost theirs.”

  Jason shook his head. How ignorant this man was to think twenty-four – twenty-three people now – planned to overthrow an entire bunker inhabited by over five hundred people. “Let us go and we’ll let you get back to your squabbling. There are others who need help.” He turned and began to walk back toward the elevator, if only he could remember where it was located in this maze. He never had been great with directions.

  “Don’t move another muscle,” Red shouted. “None o’ y’all are goin’ nowhere.”

  Murmurs and whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. The din grew as calls of disagreement sounded.

  “Let them go.”

  “No! Let us go!”

  “You heard it. They have thousands of soldiers above us. They plan on killing us and taking our supplies and our safety!”

  “Shut the fuck up, you don’t know shit!”

  The shouts grew louder as people squawked over each other. Cooper saw an opportunity and began to slink away from the mayhem. Karen and Jason spotted Cooper’s absence and joined in the quarreling to help keep attention on the present parties.

  “We’ve only come to help!” Karen shouted.

  “Just let us go and you can kill each other!” Jason suggested.

  Cooper reached the perimeter of the crowd, unbelieving his luck at going unnoticed amongst the shouting populace. He climbed onto a stainless steel countertop, which served as a boundary to the kitchen, and shouldered the rifle.

  Red jerked left as he shouted something degrading at someone, then began to raise his own weapon again. President Neil appeared to be the intended target. Before Red could get off a shot, Cooper took his.

  The ensuing blast was enough to send nearly half of the civilians to their knees. Some went as far as to cover their heads, as if their hands were enough to stop a bullet. Others shot their hands to their ears to prevent further ringing from tinnitus. Weapons crashed and clanged to the floor.

  Red’s body convulse
d as the left side of his face was decimated. The bullet traveled right through his skull, finally stopping after tearing through another man’s shoulder. Red dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes as the other man spun wildly from the impact on his body.

  Jason raised his weapon and began to wave it back and forth over the crowd. Karen followed suit. Cooper fired another shot, downing another bunker inhabitant who had his gun raised and was about to return fire.

  “Get down! Get on the floor!” Jason shouted. He shoved the barrel of his gun into the closest man in warning.

  Cooper trained his scope on the next target; he held his finger over the trigger but did not squeeze. Not yet.

  Red’s contradictor allowed his powerful voice to take control of the situation once more. “Now, one chance. Why have y’all really come here?”

  President Neil stepped forward, noticing his soldiers’ movements as they scanned the crowd and watched for more threats. The man who caught the bullet in the shoulder writhed in the floor and groaned loudly, although he never allowed a scream to escape his mouth.

  “It is as I said,” Neil said. “We destroyed the alien nest and have come on a rescue mission. The resistance army could use all the men it can get. Like we’ve said, there are others in need of rescue or assistance.” Neil looked around the room as he spoke, allowing his eyes to meet all who would allow it.

  “I’m Kerney.” The man stretched a hand out and shook Neil’s vigorously. “I have tremendous respect for you, Mr. President. You have done nothing since being put in office besides try to help your fellow Americans.” He appraised Neil’s form, his clothing. “You’ve obviously put yourself in harm’s way for the sake of humanity. If you would have it, I would do the same.”

  Kerney held his gun high above his head and turned around to address his fellow survivors. “We have an opportunity to make history here, boys.” Kerney appeared to be in his mid-forties, and there were many survivors who appeared to be his age or better; still, nobody made fuss of being referred to as boys. “I, for one, am not satisfied to hide underground and wait out the apocalypse. I am not content knowing that I might be responsible for allowing others to die, others who I could have helped.”

  President Neil watched – at least a little in shock at this man’s pride and patriotism – as Kerney spoke. Although the atmosphere felt less hostile and many of the men in front of him appeared to be at ease, he refused to let his guard down. He realized the fingers on his left hand were nearly numb from gripping his sidearm so tightly. He let his grip relax, albeit slightly, so that the blood flow could return.

  “Men, you are humanity’s last hope. It is up to us as survivors to avenge the deaths of family. Of friends. We have to avenge all of the lives that have been lost to the damned alien invasion.” He paused momentarily for dramatic effect. Surprisingly, it worked. “Now, who is willing to do their part? Who will leave the safety of this bunker and join the rest of the resistance army?”

  Chapter 42

  The elevator worked overtime as it transferred more than three hundred soldiers back upstairs into the department store. As it traveled to the surface and back multiple times, President Neil, Jason, and Karen searched PNF6 for the communication room, happy to see that it was close to the elevator. As disorganized as everything else in this bunker appeared to be, nobody wanted to search for hours just to find the server room.

  President Neil took a few minutes to check in online with the other bunkers. The nest in Atlanta had been thoroughly wiped off the face of the Earth, with only one F-22 Raptor being destroyed in the fracas. Three nests on the west coast had been destroyed as well. Several more were obliterated west of the Mississippi River.

  There appeared to only be one remaining nest nearby that wasn’t already under attack. It was located in Greenville, South Carolina.

  Reports were coming in containing casualty numbers across the country. The results were bleak. Nearly thirty percent of all human resistance forces had been killed; obviously there were regions where casualties had been higher and some that were lower. Upon reading the reports, there was only one piece of information that kept James’s hopes up. One unanimous entry that seemed consistent across the board.

  One hundred percent of enemy forces were destroyed at each location, no matter the percentage of human casualties.

  Sure, there were a few rogue ships scattered around the country. There were even a few troop transports still in operation. But they weren’t long for this world.

  President Neil sent a message to WDC2, addressed specifically to his wife. It summed up the events that had transpired since he left and assured her beyond a doubt that he remained unharmed. She didn’t have to know about all his minor scrapes, bruises, and lacerations.

  One more message, sent to every other bunker in the United States. The message would then be spread by radio or any other means possible to the appropriate forces. All forces within range were to rendezvous the next morning for an assault on the nest in Greenville.

  ◆◆◆

  0700. Traveler’s Rest, South Carolina.

  President Neil held the megaphone – which he couldn’t believe somebody managed to scrounge out of PNF6 – to his mouth and began to speak. As the speaker crackled to life, the crowd noise slowly died to a low roar before eventually fading completely. “My fellow Americans, the end of this war is upon us!”

  Another low hum sounded through the crowd like a tidal wave moving through an ocean. As it quieted, he continued. “Humanity will prove its superiority once and for all. We will stand united as one. We will destroy our enemy as one force!”

  Jason and Karen stood in the crowd directly in front of James. He stood on top of a tank so he could see out over the sea of soldiers. Karen reached over, searching for Jason’s hand. She squeezed it tightly; whether the gesture was one meant to comfort her or just reassure her of Jason’s presence she could not tell.

  “Reports about the nest in Greenville claim that it is the largest one known to exist. It appears to be different in composition from the others and a strange signal has been emanating from it for nearly twenty-four hours now.

  “Reinforcements are inbound from other regional bunkers as we ready ourselves. By my estimates, we can expect another ten to twelve thousand foot soldiers, near a hundred tanks or otherwise armored vehicles, and about eighty attack helicopters. Twenty-one jet fighters are currently inbound as well.

  “Today will spell the end for the Qspolian race. Today is the day of reckoning!”

  Cheers sounded through the crowd as James climbed down from his perch on top of the tank. “You two ready?” he asked Jason and Karen.

  Karen nodded. She was beyond nervous, but kept a brave face.

  “Let’s do this!” Jason answered.

  Chapter 43

  The convoy of personnel carriers, tanks, and trucks soon got onto US-25 headed toward Greenville. The nest wasn’t far, less than ten miles away. The road, which had never been known to be in a great state of repair, was hardly in a drivable condition. Large chunks of asphalt had been torn or blown away, leaving craters large enough to swallow an entire car. Luckily there was only a grass or paved median so travel wasn’t completely impaired even where one direction – two lanes – had been either destroyed or completely blocked.

  The convoy passed by what used to be historical Furman University. The centuries-old campus had been decimated; scattered bricks and a few downed trees were the only remnants viewable from the road.

  The convoy swerved through abandoned and wrecked vehicles along the highway, eventually coming to the outskirts of Greenville. Hundreds of cars lined the street, bumper to bumper, and were abandoned with nobody in sight. Less common was a car or truck with a driver or multiple occupants who weren’t lucky enough to have made it from the vehicle before being killed.

  The insides of many of these vehicles were splattered with so much blood that the occupants might very well have exploded. Whether ripped apart or blown apa
rt, the scene was undoubtedly gruesome. Most bets were that they had been ripped apart.

  In the distance, as the convoy crested another of the rolling hills, the final nest appeared. It was as large as a city block and was nearly perfectly round. Instead of having the glistening sheen of the unknown metal used in the smaller ships and other nest ships, this one was dull and black, with a touch of deep blue twisting in and out of the otherwise black surface. They weren’t designs, nor were they hieroglyphics similar to those found on the other ships. The blue streaks were almost… organic in nature, varying wildly and utterly pattern-less. They reminded Jason of the unknown blue things inside the nest back in Asheville.

  “Jesus Christ,” Jason swore. “That thing is huge!”

  Karen furrowed her brows as her eyes shot back and forth across the horizon. “There are no smaller ships flying in and out of the structure like at the last nest.” Several smaller ships flew orbits around the monstrosity, but they didn’t appear to have a desire to land. It was almost like they were patrolling.

  “That’s odd,” James said. He lowered himself back down from the open hatch of the M113 armored personnel carrier and shivered violently. “Fuck, it’s cold!”

  One of the patrols in the distance broke its path just for a second as its occupants seemed to notice the assault team. Instead of attacking, it began back on its rotation around the structure.

  Overhead, hundreds of attack helicopters – reinforced from multiple regional survival bunkers with extra firepower and men to spare – tore past. They looked strangely like a massive flock of birds; each helicopter seemed to react to those around it, but none strayed from the flock as they moved as one toward their target.