Allies (Kaylid Chronicles Book 4)

by Mel Todd

  Doug sighed and looked at McKenna's friends all looking at him. "You never bring me easy stuff, and I don't have time to play the political games."

  "You have less time than you think." Rarz said, his voice oddly gentle for a being that looked like he could take out a tank.

  "Why do you say that?" Again the Marine asked the question.

  Really, I need to start asking names, or demanding introductions.

  "Per my source, they are starting to collect asteroids to send at your planet. The last time they did that, the planet was destroyed to the point that over ninety-five percent of all life was killed."

  The room went quiet and the woman said slowly. "You mean ninety-five percent of all people?" McKenna winced. She knew the answer to this.

  "No. Even the species in the oceans and the insects were destroyed. The only remaining people are ones we rescued, or are slaves to the Elentrin. Most of creatures that lived in that planet only remain as memories to a select few."

  Chapter 5 - True Colors

  Elentrin have been spotted moving through Rome. Drones being used by various government agencies have been tracking any shuttle not doing straight drops. They often are disgorging a Elentrin who starts to walk around. Already people are coming out to meet the alien. The two original women haven't been seen for a while. What does this mean for the center of Christianity on Earth? ~ TNN News

  The first day of the invasion, at least when aliens started dropping to the earth, Raymond Kennedy hid in his apartment, terrified they might sense that he was a creature like them. Even the wonder of the warrior form couldn't get past the loathing of knowing he'd been infected like an animal. The news covered these aliens dropping into cities, shooting people and carting them to shuttles that then took off with their captured prizes inside. The idea of being one of those so callously disposed of locked him in his own home.

  But as hours passed, then a day, he realized they didn't know about him specifically. Boredom, more than anything else, kicked him out of his panicked mindset and let him start looking around.

  The government had been all but shut down. No congressional meetings, no movers and shakers having lunches together, no passing by staffers in the hall seeing what they might let slip. Raymond hadn't been so frustrated since his teens. Without his ability to gauge people's moods, reactions, to catch the feeling of what was going on in the halls of power, he felt hamstrung, useless. That was not acceptable.

  Careful inquires proved the black ops group he'd used to drop off those meddling idiots in the jungle had been deployed to other areas to deal with the threats. Of the six people involved, three had been reported dead.

  Just as well, it reduces ties back to me, not that I think it will matter once this is all over. But I'll need to remember to clean up any loose ends. Those shifters have become way too high profile to allow this to stand.

  Showered and in jeans and a t-shirt, unusual garb for him, he contemplated going out. He was like most staffers and ate out more than anything else. Which meant his food stores were low to begin with, and shifting into that wolfman form hadn't helped. He was down to rice and flour, and not being a chef, he had no idea what he could make from that other than rice.

  The news had listed stores with limited supplies that would be open for six hours today. And some of the small shops were open, though you had to knock for entrance.

  Arming himself with his 1911, what real men used, and a small bag, he slipped out. Stepping out on the street, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. Normally the area of DC he lived in had a constant stream of car engines, honking, people chattering, heels clicking on the sidewalks, dogs barking, just noise that created a background he never noticed. Now he was hyper-aware of the lack of that noise. Walking down the street he kept swiveling his head, trying to pay attention to everything. He held the drawn pistol in his right hand, and the bag gripped loosely in his left, ready to be dropped at a moment's notice.

  I need to invest in a backpack, plebeian as they are. It would be nice to have both hands free right now.

  The thought got added to his list of things that needed to change, though that item was much simpler than many of his others. As he walked, his anger grew at the aliens that had forced this great country to this, people hiding in their homes, scared to emerge. He saw blinds move, curtains twitch, but no kids outside, not even dogs. Everyone was hiding.

  That stupid bitch and the football player, this is their fault. Even after we win against these aliens, they will still be here, ruining our world. That isn't acceptable.

  He only saw one vehicle on the street, an older model truck with a gun rack in the back holding two rifles. The man driving it nodded at him as it went by, but nothing else was said. Raymond just fumed.

  I should be sitting at an elegant restaurant, getting information to use against someone and figuring out how to make this country what it should be. Strong, unified, and lead by those with the talent and skill to rule.

  The frustration and irritation that arose from that thought caused his spine to stiffen and his pace to pick up.

  New goal: Make sure the shifters have no place on this planet and are not a threat to any true human.

  The knowledge that he was what he hated got pushed further and further back in his mind. This was just proof that he was better than the rest of them, because he didn't need to change, didn't need to flaunt the unnaturalness to the world. He could control himself and help others control those who weren't as smart and skilled as he was.

  He strode to the grocery store six blocks from his brownstone, scanning as he went. As soon as America got back on its feet these aliens would see that regular humans weren't prey.

  The doors slid open as he approached. Cautiously he walked into the silent store. The lack of music threw him off for a bit. It had never dawned on him before how much noise they were surrounded with, all the time.

  A cashier rose up, rifle in hand, and looked at him. "Prices are as marked, you can spend up to a hundred dollars, cash only. No produce left. There's a guard at the meat section, tell him what you want, and he'll get it for you."

  Normally cashiers were young awkward teens, or middle-aged women that looked like they had forgotten how make-up worked and didn't care. This one was in his mid-thirties, fit, and held the rifle like he had no issue using it.

  Raymond just nodded. He'd grabbed cash expecting that, but he sneered internally anyway.

  If he's so fit, why isn't he out there fighting against these invaders?

  Keeping the sniff to himself, he moved farther into the store, then stopped. How barren the shelves were surprised him. Where normally every shelf was full, now the pickings were slim. There was food, but nowhere near as much as what he had expected. Offended on a level he couldn't explain, he started to raise his voice to demand to know where the groceries were, but the quiet movements of the other shoppers stopped him.

  Yet another thing these aliens need to pay for.

  Outrage coated his entire being as he stalked past the bare shelves. True to the cashiers' word, an armed guard stood at the empty meat freezer.

  "Is there any meat?" Even his words sounded overly loud and he flinched, lowering his volume a little. "I'd like to get some, maybe two packages? What is there?"

  "Hamburger at five a pound, chicken at three a pound, steaks at six a pound." The guard spoke just as softly. "Everything is one-pound packages only."

  Raymond clenched his teeth but had to admit they could have tripled the price and hadn't, instead just limiting what you could buy. "Two packages of hamburger, one of chicken." He spoke the words through clenched jaws, but the guard just nodded.

  Spaghetti, hamburger helper, and some chicken alfredo. That should do me for at least a week if I can get some eggs.

  The guard came back with the meat and put it in the cart. Raymond found the rest of what he needed, but to his surprise there were lots of eggs at three dollars a carton. He grabbed some processed ham and then heade
d to the cashier.

  Everything together totaled fifty. They were using only round numbers and he didn't care that the taxes had been rounded up too. Change made too much noise. But curiosity made him ask about the eggs.

  "Why so many eggs, for relatively cheap?"

  "Locals have brought them in to trade and eggs last a long time without refrigeration. So we've gotten lucky and they go far when mixed with other food," the cashier stated, his eyes wary as Raymond finished packing everything in his bag, the eggs on top.

  "Good to know." Trying to maintain the façade of caring, he nodded and headed out, his gun at the ready.

  He paid closer attention to his surroundings as he walked back towards his home, not wanting to risk being mugged for the groceries. His stomach grumbled at the thought of food soon. Though the eggs were interesting, and the idea of barter sparked ideas deep in his mind of down-the-road possibilities. As he walked, he realized the area was rather nice with the quiet. He'd never realized how loud all the horns and engines were. Raymond almost smiled as he headed back to his house.

  He'd just crossed a street and was approaching the end of the businesses where the more residential area started up, when he heard a faint sound. It seemed crystal clear in the quiet of the day.

  The screaming got louder, and he looked around for something to get behind. No sense asking for trouble. An alley up ahead with two over-full dumpsters lay to his right. Stepping up the pace he moved into the alley and behind the trash. He set his bag down on the ground carefully, not wanting to break those eggs.

  He squatted and looked through the gap between the dumpster and the wall. It placed him far enough back that he had a full view of the entrance of the alley. A woman carried a young kid, probably between four and seven. He avoided kids if at all possible. Babies were only good to get votes.

  "Help! Please someone help! They're after me! HELP!"

  Idiot. Yelling just tells them where you are.

  His thought scornful as he watched her run past, the sound of her hard shoes echoing on the pavement.

  And really, if you think you will have to run, wear sneakers.

  A moment later a Kaylid came into view, stopping and raising its weapon, a red bolt snapped out of it, and he heard a dull thud and the crying of a kid. The Kaylid paused looking down the alley, right towards him. It lifted its head, then wrinkled its nose as it stood there.

  Raymond froze, not even breathing. After what seemed like an eternity, and his lungs had started to burn, it turned and headed down the street. He still sat, not breathing, listening as hard as he could. A whine and the cry cut off. His vision pulsed at the corner of his eyes, but he didn't dare breathe. The same furred beast, its pelt the colors of rotten tomatoes stalked back by, the woman draped over his shoulder. This time it stalked by, not even stopping, and still Raymond didn't move.

  Good riddance. The more that are gone, the easier it will be to put them in their proper place, serving their betters.

  That thought gave him the strength to keep holding his breath, no matter how his lungs burned.

  Ten more seconds, I can make it ten more.

  Five

  Eight

  Ten

  He took in a slow breath fighting to not gasp as his lungs pulled in the air that he needed so bad. His mouth tasted metallic from the saliva that had pooled in it. Breathing in, slowly, quietly focused him. A half hour passed before he rose on legs that had fallen asleep, but not even the pins and needles sensation caused him to make a sound. Picking up the bag quietly, he flipped off the safety on the gun. With the gun raised, he crept to the alley entrance then stopped just out of sight, listening.

  Nothing. You need to get home.

  He stuck his head out and peered in the directions the Kaylid had gone. All the joy at the peaceful day, gone. He couldn't see or hear anything, so he turned and headed at a fast walk to his house. The child lay crumpled in the middle of the street, blond hair a direct contrast to the dark of the pavement.

  This is why we need a genetic cleansing. People like that are too stupid to live, and the idea of them spreading their genes to those humans that are worthy to rule them? Unthinkable.

  He moved on past the girl, making sure he made as little noise as possible. He lived three blocks past that and turned onto his street with relief. Raymond didn't let himself run, but he headed up the stairs into his brownstone, shutting and locking the door with relief.

  Animals. They’re all animals. We need to make sure we’re protected from them. The very fact these aliens think they’re livestock is proof enough that we should make sure their existence can't hurt us anymore.

  Raymond put away his groceries and did some cooking even as he thought.

  We need to put laws in place to prevent them from ever being in positions of power. This just proves shifters are nothing more than animals. Not only do they change into animals, they’re hunted like prey; culled like livestock.

  They passed the amendment to the constitution giving them protection, but I can make it so they’re shunned. Regardless of the legal protection, you can't force people to hire someone.

  He hummed as he cooked, thinking about ways to sway people, riders to put in bills that would make it better to hire humans than these animals.

  The court of public opinion. People believe anything if someone they trust says it; then they repeat it and spread it.

  A slow smile crept across his face as he sat down to eat.

  And I know exactly how to start this campaign. He'll help me, I'm sure.

  Chapter 6 - Talking It Out

  The new rage is home gardening. For the restricted hours that the local home improvement stores are open, they are reporting that all seeds and vegetable plants are sold out in the first open hour. With it being late summer the growing season is limited, but with proper care many plants can grow and produce food. Also, the countertop plant gardens have been going for upwards of a hundred dollars each. But with food getting tight any bit can help. Across the country waivers for having chickens in back yards has also been granted and hens are going for forty to sixty dollars apiece. This feels like a throwback to World War II, but any food source is valid. Hunting licenses are being granted liberally and even in states where hunting has historically been low, they are having record turnouts of hunters. ~ TNN Invasion News

  A ding from the kitchen pulled everyone's attention away and McKenna sighed. "Did you bring food? We’re all pretty hungry and this might take a while."

  "Oh, yeah. Laurent, would you go grab the food please?" the SecDef said with a weary sigh. The other agent nodded and headed out the door, gun up and scanning before he stepped out. Doug looked at all of them, and then closed his eyes and rubbed his temples a bit. He groaned, an exhausted sound. "Yes, food and drink sounds good." He opened his eyes and looked at Rarz. "This is not the way it should go. You should have a team of diplomats, advisors, and everything else. But right now, that really isn't an option. I can get a few people on the phone and we can talk. The only reason I'm even still in the area when everyone else is bunkered down is I have no family. I'm former military, and enough of the Cabinet trusts me to let me be the forerunner for all this. We're in trouble. The rural areas are holding up well enough but inner cities are a mess. If people figure out we’re about to be pounded by asteroids, society will collapse." He looked like he was about to say something else, then shook his head.

  "You might want to introduce us before everyone is really confused. Because so far the only person whose name I know is our visitor." The woman spoke with a hint of amusement in her voice.

  Doug looked at her and nodded his head. "Probably. It might make me look like less of an idiot." He rose to his feet and gave a half nod-half bow to Rarz. "I apologize for the disorganized way you have been greeted. Our only excuse is an alien invasion is not the norm for us." He paused as Laurent came back in pulling a wheeled cooler, then continued. "My name is Doug Burby, I'm the secretary of defense for this nation. P
lease be aware there are many nations on our planet, and I can only speak for ours."

  Rarz tilted his head at that but nodded.

  Doug turned to the Marine who had stood while he spoke. The man wore his dress uniform. That was the only reason McKenna figured he was a Marine. The blues looked like he'd been wearing them for days, and a gun was holstered at his hip.

  "This is Gunny Sergeant Philip Roberts, he is the acting Joint Chief." McKenna saw JD tilt his head, his brows rising up. Doug must have seen it as he half-smiled, if that was what the twist of his lips qualified as. "Yes, it's unusual, okay, has never fucking been done, to have an NCO as the Joint Chief. But he's qualified for a few reasons. He's here, he has combat experience, and he has a brother who is a Colonel in the Army, and a sister who's a Captain and a pilot in the Air Force. Giving him a better grasp of what is available than most. That and he's damn good and isn't a bigoted asshole like the last guy." Doug shrugged. "Besides we can't get anyone else in. They're all trapped in their local areas and at this point I just need someone with ideas of how to use the various groups to help. So yeah, he's acting JC."

  McKenna turned a laugh into a cough and the gunny shot her a smile that let her know he'd heard the story.

  "Everyone," Gunny Roberts said in a soft voice, though he didn't take his eyes off of Rarz.

  I wonder how much of that is due to him being dragon and how much is due to him being a threat?

  Burby turned to the woman who still sat and just waved at everyone, a bright smile on her face. "This is Blair Lewis. She's a cultural anthropologist and has been advising on how our interactions with the Elentrin went."

  "You mean sideways?" JD interjected. She couldn't read his face in warrior form but in the mindscape she got the feeling he hadn't really meant to say it out loud.

  "Oh, I doubt I'd use that term. I'd go with screwed from the start. We never had a chance. However, if we can figure how they view the world, maybe we can use it against them. Or we kill them all. I'm fine with either." Her smile showed all teeth and McKenna blinked.