He guided the ship toward the shoreline. He raised his mast to slow the yacht’s speed and watched as the land approached. The white sands of the beach didn’t look pristine. They were covered in tires, metal plates, and oil cans. It looked as if an oil ship had crashed or sunk off shore and these materials had, over the years, washed up on it. It was exactly what Felix was expecting. Pure destruction.
His boat slid across the rising floor of the Gulf as it came to a stop. Felix dropped his anchor weights down. He didn’t want his boat getting pushed back out to the Gulf again. If he had to return, he wanted to know where to find it.
Looking over the coastline, it became clear. The motherships had already been here. The devastation was tantamount to a nuclear explosion. They’d destroyed everything. A few buildings were out beyond the shore, they were burned to the ground. But other than that, there was nothing. Just the wind of the Gulf and heaviness of the humid air. He was sure there were no human survivors in the area. He was wrong.
Chapter 33
The bunker door was large. It was tall and wide enough that a transport truck could’ve driven through it with no problem. The blue light Bobby had spotted in the forest belonged to a tiny light, shielded by wired steel. Its light glowed soft. It wouldn’t have been noticeable if it hadn’t been for the snow. The way the light bounced off the white powder, expanded its scope. It was sheer luck there had been a snow storm and that there were only a few stars in the sky that night. If those two factors hadn’t been met, then Bobby wouldn’t have spotted it.
Despite the door’s size, it was well disguised. It was hidden behind a rocky facade. You could only make out its size and shape by getting close to it. Only then could you detect that the rock wasn’t real. You could see the thin edge separating the door from the mountain. This was the SpaceForce bunker. It had to be. Rick stood outside of it. Looking for a way to get it open. There was no keypad or switch. At least, not one he could see. He rubbed his hands along the surface of the cold rock, trying to feel something.
The rest of the survivors in the camp ran up to him, save for Dirk, Manuel, Tuck and Bobby. They were still well behind. They were tending to Tuck’s wounds. The poor bastard wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks. The arrow in his leg was going to take a long time to heal.
“Is this it?” Patricia asked, anxiously.
Rick looked at her and nodded. “It has to be,” he said.
“How do we get in?”
“I don’t know.” He turned to back to the door. “I guess I could try this.” He knocked.
They all waited for a response.
There was nothing. All they heard was the howling of the wind as it hit and ricocheted off the sheer edge of the mountain.
Rick knocked again.
Again, nothing.
In all the years spent searching for the bunker, he’d never once considered what he’d do if he couldn’t get in once he’d found it. He expected the doors to open up when they got there. He should have prepared for this. He cursed himself. He needed to think. He walked away from the group to collect himself. He took a couple big breaths and looked at the door. Its rocky facade was made of plastic. Behind the facade was most likely steel. If anyone was on the other side of the door, they would’ve either heard his knocks and ignored him or they weren’t by the door and didn’t hear them. He hoped that it was the latter. He knocked on the door one more time.
And one more time, there was no response.
He got down to his knees and started to dig away at the snow by the door. His hands felt numb as they pushed aside the frozen mud. He wanted see where the door met the ground. Maybe he and a few members of the camp could pry it open. He found the bottom. No luck. The lip of the door went into the ground below. If they had the tools to pry it open, it would have been easy. But they didn’t have the tools. All they had were their hands. It wouldn’t work.
He stood back up and looked at the blue light that helped him find the door. He walked over to it and rubbed his hands along the rocky surface below it, hoping to detect a keypad or switch. He felt nothing but cold rock.
Out of ideas, he tried knocking for a fourth time.
Nothing.
For fucks sake. He pounded the door and then kicked it.
Nothing.
“Maybe this isn’t the bunker?” one of the members of the group suggested.
“No,” said Rick. “This is it. This has to be it. This mountain is between the constellations. What are the chances of finding a giant hidden door out in the Colorado rockies between these two constellations?”
“Maybe everyone inside is dead?” Sandra said.
“Or maybe no one is here,” said another.
Both suggestions were possible. Rick had thought of this. If the bunker was empty, then they would have to find another way in. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t empty. It couldn’t be. Too many people knew about its existence. Someone had to be here. The only possibility that scared him was that whoever was inside didn’t want them in there. But he didn’t want to bring that up with the group.
He paced back and forth. As he did so, Dirk, Manuel, and Bobby appeared from the woods carrying Tuck.
“Is this the bunker?” Tuck said, wincing in pain as he spoke. The arrow was still sticking out of his leg.
Rick nodded.
“What the hell are we doing out here then?”
“We can’t get in. They’re, uh… not answering the door.”
Tuck laughed. “We’ve spent years searching for this place. And now that we’ve found it, we can’t get in. That’s hilarious. Dirk give me another shot of that moonshine.”
Dirk gave Tuck the moonshine. To help ease the pain of the old man, Dirk had been feeding him a steady supply. Now Tuck was getting drunk. It didn’t help.
Rick’s patience was wearing thin. He walked back to the door and stared at it, thinking.
“We could try blowing it open,” said Dirk, placing Tuck on the ground. “I’ve got a few sticks of dynamite left.”
Rick thought about that suggestion and sighed. Dirk must’ve been drinking the moonshine, too. If there were people inside, they wouldn’t like that. They’d consider it a threat. They couldn’t do that. “Don’t,” said Rick. “We need to find another way.”
But Dirk didn’t listen. The bastard was drunk and was still trigger happy from the battle with the cannibals. Before Rick could to run up to him to stop, the dynamite stick was lit. Everyone in the group stood back as he threw it. Rick dove to the ground. It exploded as it hit the ground outside the door. Snow and stone shot in all directions. As the dust and dirt from the explosion cleared away, the damage from the blast became clear. The plastic facade had been blown apart. Behind it was a steel door. Still closed. The dynamite didn’t even make a dent.
“You fool,” said Rick. “I said don’t!”
Tuck sat on the ground, he was nursing his leg, laughing. He picked up his shotgun.
“Step back, everyone,” he said.
Rick looked at him. Fucking christ. This is getting ridiculous. He ran to Tuck.
“Step back!” Tuck shouted. “Do it or you might get hit!”
“Put the gun down,” said Rick.
The old man didn’t listen. He fired. The spray from the pellets hit the door, and did nothing. Rick ran up to him and confiscated the shotgun from the drunk, injured fool.
Tuck’s blast hit more than the door. It also hit the blue light that’d helped them spot it. The light flickered on and off and then went out. The group of survivors were now surrounded by the black cold of the night. The wind was starting to pick up. It was just darkness and wind now.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Rick said. “Now we can’t see anything.”
Tuck laughed.
With Tuck’s shotgun in his hand, Rick walked over to Dirk, who like Tuck, found the whole situation comical. He grabbed all the remaining dynamite sticks Dirk had on him. As he took hold of the last stick of dynamite from Dirk, the forest
floor began to rumble. A few members of the group fell to their knees.
“What is this?” Sandra said.
“I don’t know,” said Rick.
No one could see anything. They could only feel the cold of the wind and hear its howls.
“Should we run!?” Patricia said.
“Rick, where did you take us?” another asked.
“Calm yourselves,” Rick said. The door was opening. He could see a sliver of light emerge from it. This was it. They’d found it. Tuck and Dirk had done the trick. Those two drunk bastards had figured it out. They’d pissed off the hornets nest enough that they’d elicited a response. It didn’t matter now. They’d found a way in. “This is the SpaceForce bunker we’ve been looking for,” he said. “Stay calm.”
As he said the words, the steel door to the bunker opened up. A long beam of yellow light shot forth from the opened door, illuminating the trees surrounding the group. From the light emerged three soldiers, dressed in SpaceForce uniforms. They were holding AR-99s. They had found it. After five years, they had found it.
Chapter 34
The bone wall lay in ruins. The bones blew away in all directions by the force of the approaching harvesters. Quinton looked around. It was pure destruction. The harvesters came out of nowhere. The bear was an omen. He’d been correct. The camp he’d spent five years building was about to be destroyed. And by the very things he’d worshipped: the aliens.
There were five harvesters. Two of them had busted through the wall of the camp. Three waited outside the perimeter.
Camp members fired guns and arrows at the hulking alien ships. They didn’t do much. Their projectiles rang off the metal hull of each harvester.
Each harvester hovered a few feet above the ground. The air under them was distorted and warped. The thrust holding them up pushed away anything close by. Debris, bones, and camp supplies shot in all directions, away from the space the harvesters occupied. The giant prongs that were rested on each side of the harvester’s body scooped debris into its open mouth. Once enough debris was inside, the mouth would shut and a green light would shine from the edges of the mouth. One could only assume that the harvesters were turning whatever debris was inside its mouth into something, although no one could be sure.
Quinton had heard about the harvesters from survivors who’d joined his camp, but he’d never seen one up close. He’d never seen their process. He watched as they unfolded their terror on his camp.
The two harvesters that’d broken through the wall fired blue plasma bursts. Like the AOJs, the harvesters were equipped with the plasma canons. Unlike the AOJs, they moved in a cumbersome manner. They were not as agile, nor as quick. Their blasts were not as accurate. Each blast missed the group of humans they were targeting.
But the missed shots hit the camp’s building’s, which began to burn.
Unfazed by the destruction, Quinton walked toward the giant alien metal beasts. If this was how it was going to end, then he was going to accept it. It was time to accept his fate, to prove his faith. He knelt down before the harvesters and bowed his head. Everyone else in the camp ran and screamed.
Quinton’s wife ran up to him and started to pull him away. He pushed her back.
“Leave me alone,” he said.
“You’ll die!”
“Leave me be!”
Quinton’s wife had been subservient to him their entire marriage. She never felt good enough for him. She did her best and that was enough to keep him happy. But her actions now were not making him happy.
“What are you doing?” he said.
“I am trying to save you,” she said.
“From what?”
“From yourself!”
The harvesters pushed further into the camp. They were only fifteen yards away from Quinton and his wife. Their metallic frames hovered above the muddy ground, knocking over the wooden frames of the cabins they did not blow up with their plasma bursts.
Quinton’s wife pulled at her husband, trying to pry him from the ground. He resisted. He was getting angry. Why wouldn’t she leave him here? There was no stopping this. They’d have to accept it. For five years, he’d learned to accept it. He welcomed the invaders and their machines. This was the fitting end. He was about to accept the punishment of the gods.
Quinton’s wife didn’t leave him alone. She wasn’t going to let him die. She’d followed him through thick and thin but this was too much. She wasn’t going to let him die.
The other camp members were far enough away from the harvesters now that a few were watching from outside the walls of the camp. They all peaked through the bone wall’s small openings. They watched the struggle between Quinton and his wife and the harvesters.
As the harvester closest to Quinton approached, its mouth opened. It’s giant prongs moved into position to scoop him inside. Quinton closed his eyes. His wife pulled at him. He resisted. This was it. He was going to die as he imagined he would, at the hands of the invaders. He was going to be saved.
“Leave me be!” he said.
“You can’t,” she said. “The camp needs you. I need you.”
The harvester was only yards away. Its metal door now fully open, it’s prongs sliding debris inside.
“Leave me be!”
“I can’t,” his wife said. “I can’t!”
The harvester’s prongs were about to touch him. He didn’t want his wife to interfere, to deflate his act of self-sacrifice, especially when he knew the rest of the camp was watching. If the world he was trying to build was destroyed, then he at least wanted to go with it. His wife wasn’t letting him die. But before he was sucked inside the mouth of the machine, the machine stopped. Its prongs raised up and its mouth closed. His wife had caused the alien ship to doubt his belief. How could she do this to him?
As the mouth of the harvester closed, the green light inside lit. Quinton turned to his wife. He stood up from the ground. There was no need to kneel anymore. He’d lost his chance at salvation.
“You fucking whore,” he said.
She let go of his arm. “Quinton, I love you,” she said.
“If you loved me,” he said. “You would have let me die. You would have let me be saved.”
“Quinton?”
As they spoke, the canon on top of the harvester was taking aim. Quinton could see it from the corner of his eye. It was taking aim at them.
“You brought this upon yourself,” he said.
“What? What do you mean?”
Quinton snapped. He was about to sacrifice himself in front of the camp. He was about to carry the weight of all their sins and this is how his wife thanked him, by mocking him at his greatest hour. She doubted him. He wouldn’t take it. She had betrayed him. He grabbed hold of his wife with a bear hug. “It’s time to die,” he said. They’d both die.
She grew scared. She kicked him in the balls and he fell backward. As he did, the canon from the harvester fired. It missed him and hit his wife square in the chest. She burst into a million particles.
As he lay on the ground, mud in his eyes, he looked back and saw what’d happened. His wife was dead. He turned away. As he did, he heard the metal mouth of the harvester open once more.
He stood up. He brushed off his pants and shirts. Had the machines heard his prayer? Did they understand his plight? Did they know his wish?
He knelt down before the harvesters once more. This time without his wife trying to pull him away.
But before the harvester got any closer, it stopped. Its mouth stayed open.
Quinton quivered. His eyes had been closed. He opened them. He didn’t know what to do.
He looked left and right. Between the holes of the bone wall, he could see the eyes of the camp members watching him.
He stood up from the ground. He had to prove his faith. He walked toward the metal hull of the alien ship. He stepped atop the metal mouth and walked inside.
There was only one way to prove his loyalty to the invaders and to his servan
ts. As he walked into the mouth of the harvester, its mouth started to close behind him.
Chapter 35
One of the perks of the Alpha Plus 22A yacht was its highly developed security system. It was the perfect ship for trillionaires. You could sail the world with the peace of mind that no pirate would ever board your ship or attack. If they did, they’d be dead in minutes.
Surrounding the cabin of the yacht were sixteen automatic machine guns, two missile canons and an EMP device. If a pirate managed to evade the bullets, missiles and EMP, the security system on deck was even more intense. As soon as any intruder stepped foot on the ship, they’d be greeted by over 10,000 volts of pure electricity jolting through their body from the tiny electrical fibre wires that were embedded within the wooden planks of the deck. The poor bastard would be cooked in seconds.
Felix never had any use of the yacht’s security system. He bought it for its other luxuries. Its gold plated siding. Its jacuzzi. Its size. It was small and sleek. He liked it that way. But mostly, he bought it because of its onboard satellite and communication tech, which he modded, of course so he could access BlueStar satellites orbiting Earth.
But after the invasion, he was glad the ship had an advanced security system. He’d expected run ins with pirates or other survivors so desperate that they would attack. There were plenty of ships on the Gulf waters. But no one attacked him. The other ships in the Gulf probably saw the machine gun mounts and canons. They knew better than to fuck with Felix. And Felix like’d it that way.
As long as the motherships couldn’t get him and other survivors stayed away, he could focus on his work. But that was over now. Now that his ship was on its final legs and his transmissions couldn’t reach other stars, he had to get to the shore. He had no choice.
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