Conquest

by Mark Tufo

  It starts, he thought as he quaffed down his fifth breath and began his final run into the fray.

  ***

  “Colonel, you’d better get in here!” Frank said talking into the intercom system. Paul entered the observation post before Frank could release the talk button.

  “Who sent men out there!?” Paul half screamed as he heard the tinny sound of assault weapons firing over the monitor speakers.

  “I can only guess the firing is coming from across the street. I can’t see them with our camera angles but that is where the aliens seem to be sheltering themselves from,” Frank answered. “They’re not ours, sir, the compound is in complete lockdown.”

  “Whoever is firing caught them by surprise and they know what the hell they’re doing,” Paul said smugly as alien after alien fell to the ground, unsure of which way to direct their fire. The bullets seemed to be coming from all directions at once. Death reigned from all around. When the aliens had finally coalesced enough to get orders and return fire, the attackers ceased.

  “They’re playing Indian,” Paul quipped.

  “What?” Frank asked looking up from the monitor.

  “Hit and run, Frank. They laid down as much devastation as they could and they most likely melted back into the woods behind Cobbs pond.”

  “Who the hell is it, sir?” Frank asked incredulously.

  “Oh, I think you know,” Paul answered, a huge smile spreading across his face. I’m going to catch some shut eye.”

  “Now?” Frank asked, barely able to suppress his curiosity.

  “Wake me in about an hour. I’m sure the aliens will be sufficiently lulled into thinking the attack is over by then.”

  “What the hell is going on out there?” Frank asked, grabbing the monitor by both hands, wishing he could peer around the edges of the image he was viewing.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Tracy shuddered as she watched the place they had just moments before evacuated, light up like a Christmas tree, albeit a blue one.

  The noise was deafening even from their perch three hundred yards away, the blue rays ripped through every piece of vegetation they encountered. Cobbs pond hissed when a misplaced round struck, for a brief moment, lighting the pond up from underneath.

  “That’ll give the fish something to talk about,” I said, sitting down next to Tracy after taking stock of our munitions and health; unfortunately I pondered, in that order. I wasn’t quite yet done exacting my revenge on the cold-blooded bastards and if I ran out of rounds early, I was almost willing to use my knife. I was not quite that insane yet.

  We watched as a half dozen advance guards slowly approached what they presumed to be our final resting place.

  “Sir, do you want to take them out?” Corporal Hawthorne asked.

  “No, that would just give our position away,” I said handing him my binoculars. “Look over at the parking lot, their leader in the blue armor, that’s just what he’s waiting for. As soon as we start firing, he’ll probably call in an airstrike. No, we’ll just lay low, let them think they either evaporated us or we took off because of their superior numbers. Why don’t you get a little shut eye, it’s gonna be a long night.”

  “Yes, sir,” the corporal answered, never fully taking his eyes off the snouters as they probed the area we had fired from.

  Having not found anything but a few remnants of cloth the guards began to head back to the relative safety of their makeshift defensive positions in the parking lot. Not more than a minute after the guards left three heavily armed alien fighters flew almost directly over our hiding spot. Next time we would have to hit and run a lot quicker, the fighters would be on alert now for any type of insurgence. That and I was sure that after the dozen or so snouters that we killed, reinforcements would be on their way shortly. While those around me began to doze I couldn’t keep my eyes off the enemy. As each peaceful minute went by, I could watch them visibly begin to relax. It was in their posture and the lax way they held their weapons, scanning the entire area. And why shouldn’t they, they had superior numbers, superior weapons and complete control of the sky. Every visible sign of relaxation in them only agitated me that much more.

  “Well, fuck them,” I said as I grabbed a small satchel and skulked back from whence we had come. Nobody noticed my departure or if they did they may have noticed my maniacal gaze and decided it was better to not say anything. The going was slow, I might have been half-crazed, but I knew enough to stay low. Their commander, at least, was still vigilant and on a consistent basis picked up what I figured was their version of binoculars and scanned the area for any tell-tale signs of impending violence. For my better and his worse he never saw me coming.

  ***

  Frank went to Paul’s quarters and was truly surprised that Paul had indeed grabbed some shut eye. Paul had just sat up and was rubbing the cob webs out of his eyes.

  “It’s been about an hour, Paul,” Frank said, needlessly realizing that this was the reason Paul had risen.

  Paul never looked up as he began to lace up his boots. “Frank, get me ten men.”

  Frank was slightly taken back. “For what reason, Paul?” Although he already knew the answer.

  Paul finished lacing up his right boot and looked up. “I’m going to bring him back here.”

  “Paul, I don’t think you should go. I’ll get the men and I’ll lead them back here.”

  “Frank, he’s right outside our door, I’m going to get him,” Paul answered, not leaving Frank any room for maneuverability.

  Frank realized any further argument wouldn’t lead to anything favorable answered, “Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

  “You’ve got five minutes, meet me by the west exit,” Paul said bending back over to get the left boot done.

  Four minutes later ten heavily armed men and Frank came to the exit. Paul had been there at least three minutes waiting.

  Frank wondered if he had run to get there, but if he had he wasn’t breathing heavily.

  “Did the Major brief you?” Paul asked the assembled men. A few, Paul knew, had been battle tested, but a few of the others had the wide-eyed stare of those who were about to come face to face with their worst fears.

  As one they answered. Some more vehemently than others. “Yes, sir!” the cry rang off the walls.

  “Good, this is just a simple extraction, if however something should go wrong, do not, I repeat do not come back here. Is that understood?” Paul looked at each and every man to make sure this was clear. “Head back to the pump house and stay low until someone comes to get you. There’s at least a week’s worth of water and MREs.” There was a soft moan from the men. Paul knew their pain, MREs could sustain life but that was about it as far as taste went. Paul clapped Frank on the shoulder, “All right, let’s move. We’ve got a hero to go and save.”

  The men moved silently through the exit. All of the parts on their gear that could make even the slightest whisper had long ago been taped up with electrical adhesive.

  ***

  I slipped through the storm drain that went completely under Main Street, careful to make sure the bag I carried didn’t get wet, not that it would have mattered, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. The rage that had flowed through my veins and sent me on this mission began to ebb ever so slightly to the point where I asked myself what the fuck I was doing. “Well, too late now,” I answered. “I must be losing it, I’m starting to answer the voices in my head."

  The going was difficult through the flow pipe. It didn’t measure more than three feet across and even that estimate was a gracious one considering all the debris that had accumulated over the years. And the smell of death was not something I had been prepared for, even though I had smelled it enough over the last two years to become more than acquainted with that acrid metallic odor. The pipe wasn’t pitch black, but it was getting close. The thought of smacking into a body right now was not on my top ten list of things to do. Although I had more to worry about
from the living than the dead. The smell increased the farther I crawled in until I knew without a doubt—like a great horror novel—the dead lay smack dab in the middle where the least amount of light was. I pulled my shirt up over my nose in a vain attempt to block out the worst of it. It didn’t work. Claustrophobia, not my worst phobia but it was steadily climbing up the ladder as a panic began to well up from depths unknown. To make matters worse, dust and debris began to rain down on me as the ground above the pipe began to vibrate.

  Earthquake in Walpole? It was long moments before I realized it was heavy troop transports traveling on the road I was underneath. Was the body a sign? Was it a hint from a merciful God to stop now and turn back?

  No! God isn’t merciful and he’s not vengeful, he’s worse, much much worse, he's apathetic. Kicked back like a fat man drinking a beer on a Sunday afternoon, feet propped up and watching the games begin. That wasn’t fair though, at least not entirely, I had looked to God more than once during my ordeal and like a crutch he had on more than one occasion propped me up. God hates whiners, he helps those who help themselves. I believed that wholly.

  I moved forward with a new determination, just as my hand sunk up to the elbow in what I was one hundred percent sure wasn’t a two foot deep pool of jelly, more like jellified human remains. I gagged on small pieces of my lunch as it made a return visit. I pulled my arm back through the cavity. I had just punctured through something’s soft innards. With an audible plop my hand came free. I wrestled for a long time with a scream caught in my throat, the realization that my voice would come through on the other side like a megaphone, and any shot taken down the pipe would almost certainly hit me, unless I dove for cover and that pretty much meant diving on the body.

  “Yeah that’s no good,” I said softly. With my stomach under some semblance of control I pushed it as far away from me as I could and did my best to put as much distance between me and it as was possible.

  “Oh, fuck!” I yelled as I felt something pull on my belt. Visions of a demonic clown rising up and biting out my throat spurred me on. But the hand on my belt wasn’t letting go. I expected the other hand to wrap its cold jelly laced fingers around my throat, my vision began to pinpoint. I had to get that hand off my belt, it was dragging me down, both literally and figuratively. I began to thrash and kick at the entity but my foot couldn’t find any solid purchase, like a gelatinous mass, my foot would only sink in and come back out followed by the putrid stench of the decayed. I hoped beyond hope that one of my kicks didn’t end up in the creatures mouth I kept kicking. Nothing happened, nothing got bitten off, nothing came any closer, and nothing let go of my belt.

  Reason tried desperately to reassert itself. Fouled water and sweat covered me from head to toe. The adrenaline shakes wracked my body. I pushed through some damned up branches but still the dead clung as if holding onto me would bring them back to life. Panic would not allow me the fortitude to turn and face my adversary, flight was my only choice but no matter the advances I made it stayed one step behind. Unconsciousness would have been welcome and it was a very viable option as my heart labored under the stress. I had to take my chances with what was behind me if I ever wanted to take my chances with what was in front of me. I turned my head to the left to see what it was that I would have to pry from my belt. Stark, bony fingers had latched on to my knife, panic welled, not only was it trying to kill me, but it was going to use my own knife! I was repulsed at the thought of touching the fingers, instinct won over, I grabbed them anyway. They weren’t hard, in fact they were soft like cloth. The pinpricking of my vision began to subside, my hammering heart slowed something closer to a hamster rather than a humming bird. A small jewel dangled from the rope looped around my knife sheath. I pulled up to unloop the tangle and up from under the putrid water the head of an enormous dog popped up, sprawling me on my back. The eyeless muzzle stared at me without an ounce of malice in it. It was only a dog that had been long dead and entombed in this underwater grave. I wanted to vomit but the thought of my undigested lunch floating around with me repulsed me more than the half decayed dog ever could. I pulled his collar over my knife sheath and pushed him away as far as possible.

  “So much for keeping the satchel dry,” I mumbled. The Genogerians would have to go a long way to make me more scared than I had just been. It was possible, I admitted, but I didn’t think I would have enough reserves in the adrenaline tank for it to happen. I was feeling washed out, the dog had literally taken a lot of fight out of me, but I sure as shit wasn’t going back that way. ‘Onward Christian Soldier,’ I began humming.

  ***

  Tracy awoke with a start, her soldier instincts telling her instantly something was wrong.

  “Where’s Mike?” she asked Flaherty, the sentry on duty.

  “He went to relieve himself, Lieutenant,” he answered, never taking his gaze off the enemy encampment. Tracy couldn’t determine if it was because he was being diligent or he couldn’t actually believe what he was seeing like rubbernecking a roadside crash on a clogged highway.

  “How long ago was that?” she asked, trying to keep calm even as she knew she had reason for apprehension.

  “I’m… I’m not sure?” Flaherty said, finally pulling his eyes off the enemy encampment.

  “What do you mean you’re not so sure, Corporal?” Tracy flared, making sure he knew who he was talking to.

  “Uh, Lieutenant, it didn’t seem like that long ago, but now that I’m thinking about it, it’s been about fifteen minutes.”

  “Get the men up!” Tracy ordered. “And give me those binoculars before you go. I’ll deal with you later.”

  Flaherty swallowed hard. He knew Lieutenant Yarborough. She could be much more formidable than anything the aliens threw at them. “Yes, ma’am,” he said hastily, retreating to where the rest of the squad had gone to get some rest.

  Tracy scanned every possible entryway into the enemy stronghold and almost missed him as he climbed up a small embankment and into a small copse of woods not twenty feet from the nearest alien sentry. She noticed also with increasing alarm that he hadn’t come out of the ditch and into the trees completely unnoticed. The alien commander was even now grabbing some of his guards and directing them toward where Mike had stopped. He had his back up against a tree, not facing the parking lot, completely unaware of his impending doom. He seemed to be doing something in his lap, but her view was cut off by a small mulberry bush.

  “This is no time to be messing with your fly. Get up,” she hissed through her teeth. Dozens of more enemy troops were patrolling all around the parking lot. If she laid down cover fire she thought she could wipe out half of them before they realized what was happening. She watched Mike as he stood up, the guards had closed to ten feet and still he seemed oblivious. Weapons raised, the element of surprise and superior numbers and still they approached hesitantly.

  “At least the bastards are scared of us,” Tracy voiced, but that would be small solace if she were to watch the man she thought she was falling in love with die in the next few moments. She watched Mike swivel away from the tree, his arm moving upward in an arc, surprise etched in his features as he realized how close the enemy had got to him.

  “The c-4,” she whispered, “that’s what he was messing around with in his lap.” The guards were momentarily frozen as they watched the small green bag just clear their bone ridged heads. But in milliseconds they trained their weapons back on Mike and in a few more milliseconds he would be dead because his rifle was still leaning up against the tree where he had left it. Tracy involuntarily shuddered as the first volley of shots was fired, the surprise never left Mike’s face as the two nearest guards fell in a heap, lethal wounds erupting blood like small volcanoes. Mike saw his chance and dove for cover grabbing his rifle as he did so as more small arms fire flared. Blue laser shots whipped through trees in the area that Mike had just vacated. Tracy watched in semi-horror, not fully understanding what was happening. Some crazy bastard was runni
ng like a madman right at the guards, they had been surprised for the moment but they were quickly adapting to the new threat. Several of the guards pinioned and began to fire at the man that was screaming obscenities, most of which Tracy was sure she had never heard before. Mike’s rescuer would have been cut in two, but Mike had recovered and was on one knee laying down savage deadly fire on the guards that were nearest. The crossfire had them addled, the one that had seemed to be leading them was dead and no new orders were being issued, survival instinct reared and the guards broke for cover as the hail of bullets began to wither their numbers. Reinforcements were having a difficult time getting to the fray because of the ones retreating. Tracy could still see this was a losing battle. Nearly twenty of the big brutes were with a leader and headed straight for the man she would later learn was Dennis. Brave, dumb Dennis. Dennis had dropped to one knee and was futilely attempting to put a full magazine into his rifle. The guards were almost past their makeshift defenses and would have him in their sights when, without warning, the earth moved. The blast sent death and debris everywhere, no one within fifty feet survived the blast. Mike underestimating the power of the explosives was saved only by blind luck as the tree he was hiding behind took the majority of the energy released. The bark from the bottom of the tree to halfway up was sheared off. Dennis was luckily out of the main part of the blast zone but was still unceremoniously deposited on his ass from the concussion.

  Who knows maybe it’ll knock a little sense into his head—what the hell was he thinking? I owe that man a kiss, Tracy thought, and it was pretty much the same thought Mike had, without the kiss, well maybe the kiss too. A crater ten feet deep formed in the asphalt and dirt of the parking lot, small rocks rained down, what was left of the soldiers were being quickly disposed of as Tracy saw from the North side of the parking lot what looked like a small band of Marines doing mop-up duty. There was no more fight left in the Genogerians but Tracy knew this would be a short-lived victory if she didn’t get her squad out of there now.