Copyright © 2019 Terrance Mulloy
Tiny Empire Pty Ltd
All Rights Reserved.
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This publication is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, and events are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without written permission from the author.
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For more information visit:
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Contents
Quote
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Thank you for reading
Also by Terrance Mulloy
About the Author
“The nations of the world will have to unite, for the next war will be an interplanetary war. The nations of the earth must someday make a common front against attack by people from other planets.”
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~ General Douglas MacArthur
October 8, 1955
One
June 22, 2048
Harrisonville, Kentucky, USA
Four hours until they arrive...
It was 3:25 am when Matt Reeves was awoken by a muffled whimper emanating from his bathroom en-suite.
Thinking it was his one-year-old toddler, Ally, he lifted his head to see she was fast asleep in her crib in the corner of the room. When he rolled over to his wife’s side of the bed, it was empty. Beyond that, a thin sliver of light could be seen underneath the bathroom door.
With increasing concern, Matt hopped out of bed and moved to it, gently knocking. “Karen? Honey?” he said in a low voice.
There was no answer.
He quietly opened the en-suite door to find Karen sitting on the tiled floor in her singlet and underwear, back against the wall, sobbing quietly. It was immediately apparent she’d been in here for quite some time. Her usually vibrant red hair was a mottled mess, stuck to her freckled cheeks. In front of her was a single sheet of paper resting above a crumple of used tissues. Matt could see it was the pathology report on Karen’s biopsy sample they had received earlier the previous day, indicating her uterine cancer had returned with a vengeance.
She looked up at Matt, her hazelnut-brown eyes, wet and red-raw. “How could it come back so quickly?” she asked, almost pleadingly.
Matt had no way of answering her question. Three years after successfully recovering from extensive surgery and chemotherapy, they both considered it a miracle Karen was even able to fall pregnant. Despite recent breakthroughs and advanced treatments now producing much higher survival rates globally, her specialist had made it very clear about the real possibility of a malignant tumor returning one day. Neither of them expected it would be this soon.
Matt wiped some sleep from his eye and knelt down in front of her, taking a hold of her tissue-free hand. “You’ll get through this, Karen.”
“How?” she replied, struggling to form words between heavy sobs. “You’re— you’re going to have to raise Ally without me…”
“Hey, hey, don’t talk like that. You heard what Doctor Litvak said. This is totally treatable. You’ve got a high favorability of making another full recovery. In fact, he even said he was ninety-five percent certain.”
“But I’m scared this time, Matt. How many more times do I have to go through this?”
“Listen, you’ve always been a lot stronger than I am.” She looked up at him again and met his gaze, waiting for him to continue. “And if we’re going to fight this together, you’re going to need that strength. I’m going to need it too. You’ll pull through, Karen. You’ve done it before, and you can do it again.”
She held her husband’s eyes for a moment, then climbed onto him, burying herself into his bare chest. He wrapped his arms around her tightly while she continued to sob. “You promise we’re going to be alright?”
Matt kissed her damp forehead. “I promise.”
Once Karen was back in bed, Matt went downstairs to get a head-start on his day. He began working through his early-morning ritual - a punishing exercise regime, starting with a series of elevated sit-ups.
The single hanging light-bulb that starkly illuminated his garage revealed an austere space, with homemade wooden shelves filled with various championship trophies from his college football days, as well as Kentucky State Police graduation photos.
When Matt finished his sit-ups, he switched to the heavy bag, unleashing a precise and powerful flurry of elbow, knee, and fist combinations.
His holophone suddenly chimed on the small workbench behind him.
Catching his breath, he glanced at the text message that gently floated above the phone’s screen: Suit-up @ 5.00 am sharp. Don’t be late.
Matt turned and went back to his bag, unloading another combination of blows.
Matt stood in the shower, hands eagle-spread over the tiles, head bowed as he allowed the hot water to scald the back of his neck and shoulders.
He stared down at the tiled floor, watching a tiny house spider helplessly spiral towards the drain, like a ship caught in a giant ocean swell. The doomed spider reminded him of what was about to take place in a few hours time.
Arrests. Lots of arrests.
Over the past eighteen months, Shelby County had been hit with a rapid onslaught of vehicle thefts and violent crimes attributed to a new and highly-addictive synthetic drug called Fizz. Matt’s department had discovered a notorious biker gang called Odin’s Outlaws, had established a sophisticated manufacturing and distribution network on the borders between Franklin and Shelby Counties. They were using stolen vehicles to transport large quantities of Fizz across the country, thus turning the entire region into a major hub. It was still unknown as to where these vehicles were actually being kept as the anti-theft tech inside them were always the first thing to be hacked, rendering the cars untraceable. However, after months of undercover police work and drone surveillance, the location of a major cook-house had been identified - and today, in a joint three-way operation between Shelby County PD, Frankfort PD, and Kentucky’s Department of Criminal Investigation, they were going to shut it down.
It was not uncommon for tensions to bubble up between these various departments when out in the field working larger cases - especially with the elite KDCI task-force. With over a dozen pending investigations into bribery and misconduct, Matt had only worked briefly with them on one occasion. He found them to be blatantly arrogant and self-entitled. They were cowboys who viewed officers like Matt as a different breed of cop - one they seemingly despised for whatever reason. Matt certainly had no intention of stepping on anyone’s toes out there today, but despite that, he also understood the personal significance of today’s raid. A high-profile bust like this had the potential to make or break a law enforcement career, so everything needed to go smoothly.
No screw-ups, and no beefing with other cops, he thought, breathing in the hot steam through his nose.
His train of thought was suddenly broken when he felt the shower door open behind him, a waft of cooler air hitting his wet legs. He turned and gently embraced Karen as she stepped in to join him, closing the door behind her.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
She smiled, touching his face lovingly as the hot water ran between them. “You know, it’s quite disgusting how much I love you,” she said, pushing herself closer to him.
“Ditto.”
“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t want you finding me on the bathroom floor like that.”
<
br /> “Don’t sweat it Karen. I totally get it.”
She groaned, her voice now laced with annoyance. “Don’t do that, Matt.”
“Do what?”
“That voice.”
“What voice? I’m talking normal.”
“No, you’re not. It’s that whole zen cop thing you do. It’s like you’re a shrink taking pity on me or something. God, it’s so condescending.”
“Karen, the last thing I want you to think is that you can’t ever talk to me about this stuff. You didn’t want me to see you this morning, that’s fine. But I’m here for you. That’s all I meant.”
Karen sighed. “I know… I just…” Her eyes softened on him as she trailed off.
“Listen to me. I’ve got your back. Always have, always will.”
She nodded earnestly. “You don’t have to convince me.” She ran an idle hand down his arm, her fingers delicately following the contours of his forearm muscles. She always enjoyed seeing the contrast between her fair skin and his, which was naturally tanned all-year-round by comparison. “You just make sure you play it safe out there today, Mr. Crime Fighter.” She looked up at him, now holding his gaze with a devilish grin.
“Copy that,” he replied. There was a certain glint in her eye which Matt always found irresistible whenever she chose to display it. He leaned forward and started kissing her tenderly. A tiny moan escaped her mouth as she tilted her head back, allowing Matt to nuzzle into the base of her neck, the hot water flowing between them. But the moment was abruptly cut short by a soft bell chime.
A holoscreen appeared through the steam on the tiled wall next to them. It was the direct feed to their baby monitor, showing Ally, now wide awake and standing in her crib, crying.
Still embraced, they began giggling at the audacity of their daughter’s timing, foreheads resting against each other as they waited for the passion to dissipate.
“Looks like someone wants an early breakfast,” Matt said.
“Or maybe her own room.”
“We should probably get started on that.”
“Why don’t we invite Mom and Dad over this weekend. They can give us a hand.”
Matt let out an exaggerated sigh of defeat. “I didn’t mean that soon.”
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. We’ll have ourselves a little painting party.”
“Painting party? OK, now you’re making me very nervous.”
Karen smiled as she stepped out of the shower to dry herself.
Two
Matt stood before a narrow dressing mirror, buttoning up his pristine uniform shirt, while Karen lifted Ally out of her crib. “Didn’t take long for you to wear yourself out,” she whispered. Ally rubbed her wet eyes, already getting sleepy again. “Way too early in the morning for a little whippersnapper like you to be awake.” Karen sat with her on the edge of the bed and continued to gently rock her, Ally’s restless whimpers subsiding almost immediately.
Matt opened the cupboard and secured his leather duty belt around his waist, checking the various kit pouches. He then grabbed a duffel bag from the top shelf, zipping it open to check the secured sidearm that was holstered inside; a sleek, next-gen Glock with smart-targeting enhancements. He zipped the duffel back up and bent down to kiss Karen and Alley. “I gotta run. I could be home a little late tonight. I’ll call you.”
“Don’t be a hero out there today, Matt.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“I mean it. Besides, we have unfinished business to attend to later tonight.”
Matt turned to his wife and smiled knowingly. “Love you both.”
“Prove it.”
He strode back across the room and kissed Karen deeply on the lips, then bent down and gently kissed Ally on the top of her head. She softy gurgled with approval.
Karen watched him leave the room, closing the bedroom door behind him. She always dreaded this part of the day, but lately, she had begun to downright hate it. Even though Harrisonville’s overall crime rate was relatively low compared to some parts of the state, she still feared he’d never return home. She was convinced that dreaded phone call would one day come to her - the phone call every cop-wife was convinced they’d receive sooner or later.
The last several months had been particularly torturous for her - especially since Matt’s department had begun engaging in much more elaborate operations to combat the rise of Fizz, which had gripped much of the mid-west and Southern states. The highly addictive nature of the drug had sparked a noticeable uptick in violent crimes throughout the local community. Statistically speaking, being a cop was now considered one of the most dangerous jobs in Kentucky.
Karen turned to Ally. “How about we go back to bed and catch a few more Zs.”
Ally’s gave a sleepy groan.
Karen rose and carried her daughter back to her crib. It was at that moment, she heard the loud noise outside.
The second Matt exited the house, he heard a symphony of barks and howls reverberating loudly across the entire neighborhood. He closed his screen door and passed the Ford Explorer that was recharging in his driveway, stepping onto the curb.
It was still dark outside, but a thin wafer of blood-orange could be seen smeared across in the cloudless sky. Dawn was almost here.
Matt’s frown deepened as he looked up and down his quant street.
Nearly every home had its lights on. A couple of pet-free neighbors had emerged from their homes to investigate the ruckus. Many were still half-asleep as they waddled across their front lawns and driveways, sharing concerned looks. One of the neighbors directly opposite Matt, a widow named Sheryl Malone, gave him an idle wave.
He returned it with a big smile. It was an attempt to appear like everything was business-as-usual this morning. The last thing he wanted was his elderly neighbors sticky-beaking into trivial matters - which they were often prone to do.
When Matt hopped into his SUV, he spotted Karen swishing down the driveway in her robe and slippers, holding Matt’s thermo-flask that was filled with coffee. Matt couldn’t drink the coffee down at the station. The taste was akin to soapy dish water. So despite the ribbing he often endured about being a coffee snob, he insisted on bringing his own supply of Premium Blend to work each day.
He lowered his window as Karen approached. “Aw, thanks, hon. You’re a life saver. Totally forgot.”
She passed it to him through the window and looked out over the street, listening to all the commotion. “Jeez… what do you think they’re all barking at?”
“No idea, but it’s woken up the entire street.”
“Listen to that, they’re going crazy.”
“Might be a good idea to stay inside the house this morning. At least until it stops.”
“Got it,” she replied. “Love you.” She waved to him before turning and walking off towards the house, her arms folded. Before she reached the front door, she gave Mrs. Malone a casual wave.
Matt waited until she had entered the house before reversing out his driveway.
Three
Matt drove through the deserted streets of downtown Shelbyville, pulling into the secured parking lot behind the Sheriff’s Office.
Once parked, he hopped out, grabbed his duffel bag, and headed around towards the front of the red-brick building. Before he proceeded to enter, he stopped to survey the empty street before him.
The streetlights were still on, casting an eerie glow against the pre-dawn sky.
Matt couldn’t quite pin it, but aside from all the barking dogs, there was something undeniably odd about this morning. At first, he had put it down to some jitters regarding today’s raid. But it was something else. It was in the air. It felt both deathly still and electrically charged. There was a similar sensation one might experience when a low-pressure system was brewing, causing the air to thicken with humidity.
He looked up to see the sky was mostly clear. A few cloud bands, but nothing to indicate a storm front was moving in. The sky was also empty. Usual
ly around this time of the morning, he could spot the anti-collision lights of at least one or two delivery drones in the sky, their small rotors buzzing faintly in the distance. But there was nothing.
There was also another odd sensation that kept gnawing at him. Somehow, it felt like he was being watched. He stood there, continuing to listen intently to his surroundings, just making out the faint echo of a dog barking somewhere in the distance. Then, he snickered to himself in an attempt to shrug off the spooky feeling, turned and continued up the stairs.
Sergeant Jim Mendoza was standing behind the booking desk when he heard the security panel on the building’s glass entrance doors beep. He looked up from his holoscreen to see Matt walking towards him, his duffel bag slung over his right shoulder. “Ah, if it isn’t Shelby County’s favorite boy scout,” he quipped, cuffing the microphone on his wireless headset.
Matt grinned at Mendoza, spotting an open box of donuts next to his keyboard. “Donuts? Really, Mendoza? You’re literally a walking cliché now.”
“You would be too if you tasted one.” Mendoza held up the box for Matt to take one. “Triple chocolate with crushed Oreo. Only a day old. Still fresh.”
“I’m good, thanks. Knock yourself out.”
“Best in Shelby County.”
“I’ll take your word on that. Anyone else here yet?”
Mendoza put the box down and went back to his screen. “Yeah, Sheriff’s already downstairs suiting-up with Pearson and Brand.”
The Invasion Page 1