The Last Charge of the 1st Legion (The Last Hero Trilogy Book 3)

by Nathaniel Danes

  He could’ve sworn he weighed a ton as he fought to his feet. His mind screamed for action, but his legs and arms refused to be spurred. Putting one foot in front of the other, he pressed on.

  Staggering forward, he found Jones sprawled on the floor, motionless. Was she alive or dead? He didn’t know, and right now, he couldn’t spare the mental effort to care. Picking up the module, he slung it onto his back and attacked each step with every ounce of strength his will could muster.

  Cortez was yelling at him to hurry up and his CAL warned of increasing radiation levels. Reaching the top of the reactor tower felt like overcoming the summit of a mountain. He had to take a breath. It burned.

  “Now, Goddammit!” Cortez screamed. “It’s flickering out!”

  Summoning everything he had, he whipped the module to the front and heaved it into place.

  The com-link went silent. The room quieted.

  I’m still here. It musta worked.

  “Radiation exposure at critical levels.” Daphne flashed a warning on his HUD. He hated it when his CAL failed to match her tone to the situation.

  Gotta get the colonel and get the hell out of here.

  That thought was the last thing he remembered.

  Chapter Nine

  The Unthinkable

  Supreme Commander Walker felt as useful as tits on a boar. That, at least, was how her rural Georgian father would’ve described her feeling. The unthinkable was unfolding before her: Earth was being invaded, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  The orbital defense platform went down swinging but hardly bought the birthplace of humanity more than a few minutes.

  Time wasn’t an ally now. Even if a massive relief fleet capable of destroying the alien ship did jump through Alpha Gate, it would be almost a year before they reached Earth.

  She brought up the latest deep-space scans of the Home Guard Fleet. It was hundreds of AU’s out, making a serious detour before aiming for the gate. Its mission was to marshal forces to return. She kept telling people that meant there was hope, but she didn’t really believe it herself.

  Shifting the display back to near Earth orbit, she tracked the silver pyramid. The upper atmosphere beat against the shielding as it cut into the sky. This is it. The killing will begin now. Billions will die before this is over. We did everything we could to get ready for this moment, and it all seems so insufficient now.

  An aide looked up from his terminal. “Supreme Commander, we can now project the enemy’s touchdown point.”

  “On my screen.”

  Her display zoomed in to show a metropolis on flat land near the intersection of two mountain ranges.

  Beijing! My God!

  She deduced their strategic thinking. It was one of the largest metro areas in the world and a good place to start a campaign of surgical extermination. From there, the enemy could secure their rear by placing forces in the Xishan and Yanshan mountain ranges, then work their way down the densely-populated North China Plain.

  She knew that, despite their best efforts to hide people in underground bunkers, it had proven impossible to do that for every human. Billions of humans were deep underground in well-stocked caverns dug by automated workers. However, a billion-plus more were left to their own devices. China, given the size of its population, had one of the worst protected-to-exposed ratios.

  She took a drink of water. Her mouth was bone-dry. “What frontline forces do we have in that area?”

  “The 41st Legion is a ways out but still in striking distance. Should I put them on alert?”

  “No.” She shook her head. The frontline units were first-class veteran units, waiting to be deployed only when they could truly make a difference. This wasn’t the time or place to use one of them, even if that meant leaving millions to certain death. “What militia forces are guarding the civilian bunkers?”

  “The 102nd Militia Division is guarding the Shihua Cave Bunker. It’s the closest to the projected landing point.”

  “How many people are in those caves?”

  He cleared his throat. “Thirty million, sir. Should I notify Chairman Dalton?”

  A lot of good that will do. That drunk isn’t good for anything. “Yes, go ahead.” She leaned closer to the display. “God help them, cause there’s nothing we can do.”

  ***

  The pyramid dropped from the clouds at a terrific speed. For a second Frost allowed himself to believe it might be out of control and would destroy itself on impact. No such luck this day. With remarkable ease, the vessel arrested its descent, stopping fifty meters above the Forbidden City.

  He and Corporal Madison Wyatt watched it hang there through the data feed of a recon drone. Minutes crept by without activity. The once-bustling city below was a ghost town where loose trash drifted across deserted streets.

  “What do you think it’s doing, sarge?”

  “I have no idea. I guess it’s figuring out its next move.”

  “Why doesn’t it start dropping nukes?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe it doesn’t have access to them. It has no need for nukes in space combat, so it probably isn’t equipped to manufacture them like we suspect it will do for ground troops.”

  She stood and looked toward the city over the edge of the trench. The ship’s silver hull reflected the light mystically. “How are we supposed to win against something like that?”

  He rose to stand by her side and put an arm across her shoulders. “It’s still only one ship. It can’t be everywhere at once. If I were them, I’d drop off ground forces all over the planet and keep the ship in high orbit as much as possible to ensure some trick or stroke of bad luck doesn’t take out my most important asset.

  “That means we’ll be fighting their soldiers on even terms and can delay them. The minutes we cost them here and there will add up over months of fighting. Sooner or later help will come, and because of us, there will still be people alive to be saved. At the very least, we’re buying the colonies time to prepare and make sure our race lives on.”

  “That wasn’t much of a pep talk.” She turned and slid down the dirt wall. “Do you think they know we’re here? Do you think they’ll come this way soon?”

  He stared down at her. She was looking up at him with huge doe eyes, begging him to lie to her, to tell her they’d be fine, even though she knew better. Sometimes people can make themselves believe incredible lies to give themselves some temporary peace. She wanted, needed him to validate her irrational hope. He thought about giving it to her but decided against it. If she survived to the end, it would mean years of hard fighting and seeing more death than anyone should witness in a thousand lifetimes. No, the sooner she came to grips with that reality the better.

  He shook his head. “They’ll be on top of us in a day or two, max.”

  A shadow fogged her eyes. His heart ached for crushing her spirit, but it was for the best. The destroyer of worlds had come and people needed to get used to it.

  ***

  It took thirty-six hours, to be exact.

  Frost had called it. He and Wyatt had watched while seven thousand silver monsters dropped from the vessel’s underbelly not long after he finished telling her how it was, with no sugar-coating. The marauders systematically cleansed the city of the few stragglers who refused to evacuate before making a beeline for the 102nd’s position outside the caves.

  The mothership didn’t stick around for the action. It cruised back into space and sat there while it made more troops.

  Trenches guarding the bunker entrance formed a half-moon perimeter. Twenty-five thousand militia waited in the kilometers’ worth of defensive lines outside the expanded tunnels that ran underneath the mountains.

  The machines were smart. Frost had prayed they’d be stupid and attack the entire length of the perimeter. That’s not what they did, however. They harassed several points with minor feint attacks but threw the vast majority of their strength into one thrust at the center.

  Frost’
s platoon was on the outside edge of the primary enemy attack. He was a seasoned veteran of countless clandestine ops, but none of that had truly prepared him for the raw brutality of full-scale combat.

  The loudness of the whole affair was what stunned him the most. Grenades detonated by the hundreds, shouted orders, and screams packed the air with dense noise. The screams were the worst. There were so many from the wounded, dying, and just plain scared that they blended together into a morbid choir of death.

  The enemy were like the final wave of beasts thrown at the allied ground forces on Kitright Prime. Headless, tall, thick, and with three flexible arms that fired their energy weapon that melted targets from within, grenades, and hypersonic projectiles. At first sight he had felt a cold chill run up his spine.

  The urge to run was noticeable. He couldn’t imagine how intense that impulse was for the barely-trained militia division. He’d scanned the line, half expecting it to have been thrown into flight just at the sight of the enemy. They held their ground, though. Most of them were drafted from the local population. They had friends and family inside the bunker. They’d put up a stiff fight before they broke.

  When the enemy unleashed hell upon his position, he began to wonder just how long they would stand. How long would he?

  “Keep firing!” He picked a terrified man off the ground with one arm and shoved him against the trench. “Keep pouring it on them!” He raised his MRG and sprayed cold metal wildly into the enemy flank. The small rounds deflected off the enemy heavy armor, flaking silver fragments into the wind.

  Crap! I know better! He’d forgotten what he’d practiced a hundred times before. They needed to focus their fire on specific targets to bring them down, one at a time. “Fire Team leaders! Call out targets for your team. Hose ‘em down till they’re dead. Use your grenades but don’t become dependent on ‘em. We only have so many.”

  The command feed of his CAL showed immediate results. Sporadic streams of supersonic rounds shifted into coordinated clusters of fire. Enemy soldiers began to fall. First one, then another and another.

  “We’re doin’ it!” He took aim and brought one of his own down with a trio of grenades. A grin chiseled itself along his tightly pressed lips. He was almost enjoying himself when everything went to shit.

  The enemy soldiers had been marching straight ahead, wading into the militia’s defensive fire. They took losses but raked the center trench line with murderous effect, ignoring their flanks. That is, until they took too many casualties from those directions.

  In ominous unison, entire ranks of silver turned toward Frost and advanced. He glanced to his side and locked visors with Wyatt.

  The world exploded.

  Invisible energy burned into dirt and human flesh. Some burst into flames, others simply took the hit and stopped moving. His platoon kept firing, however. Hypersonic rounds whizzed past his head. He dropped to the ground, covering up. Limp bodies fell from the edge like rag dolls. He suspected what was coming next. “Get dow...”

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Grenades detonated all around. The screams of his men could be heard in the briefest of pauses between explosions.

  “What do we do?” The words were shouted directly into his mind via neuro-nanos and he could still barely hear them. Wyatt throw a rock at him to get his attention. “Sergeant!”

  He looked from side to side. The entire platoon was either dead or hugging the bottom of the trench. They’d be overrun soon. Clinching his fists, he steeled his nerves. “We fight!” He jumped up, whipping his rifle over the edge. “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. He swept his weapon right and left on full auto. The display did little damage to the charging enemy but rallied his men.

  “You heard him!” Wyatt leapt to her feet and released half a magazine of grenades.

  A dozen soldiers joined them. Their concentrated fire plowed into the first rank and stemmed the tide.

  “All units,” the division commander cut into the com, “retreat to the second line.”

  Frost slapped in a fresh mag. “You heard the man. Wyatt, round up the wounded and get movin.’ We’ll be right behind you.”

  “Yes, sarge.”

  He opened a channel to his remaining fighters. “Covering fire! Unload every grenade you have!”

  Puffs of gray smoke popped into existence across no-mans-land. Their birth coincided with a concussive blast and rain of hot steel. The battlefield became a confused sea of fog. Selecting half his force, he sent them to the rear. He loaded his last grenade magazine. “One more time, then fall back!”

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Between strands of swirling smoke, he saw glimpses of silver. His heart pounded and fresh adrenaline flooded his blood. The last of his grenades flowed out. “Now! Retreat!” He sprayed as his men filtered through the trenches leading back. He was the last to enter. The thump, thump, thump of the heavy enemy footfalls nipped at his heels.

  The condensed perimeter of the second line allowed the decimated 102nd to form a solid wall. Resupplied, their fire made the enemy pay for their gains, but it took too much firepower to bring one of them down. Like a rising ocean, they just kept coming and coming.

  The nerves of the survivors frayed in the face of the lifeless soldiers who seemed impervious to their losses. At first, just a few militiamen broke and fled to the third line ahead of orders. Before long, the flow back turned into a raging river and the entire division was in flight.

  Frost hadn’t noticed the exodus until it was a chaotic mess. He yanked Wyatt from the edge and dragged her to one of the avenues leading to the rear.

  “What the hell!” She twisted away from his grip.

  “We gotta go, corporal.”

  Panicked soldiers crowded the narrow passages, creating ready-made kill clusters for advancing enemy drones. He felt the ground vibrate from the approaching monsters. “Hide!”

  “Where?”

  He frantically searched the trench. There was only one grim option. “Under the bodies.”

  They dove to the ground and rolled their ghoulish shields on top of them. Terrified cries filled the air. The enemy must’ve been overhead. He slammed his eyes shut and tried to block out what came next.

  When the killing subsided, he signaled Wyatt and they emerged from the dead, guns blazing. Their sudden appearance took the victorious enemy by surprise. Their surprise attack caused enough mayhem for them to sprint over the floor of corpses and escape into the next trench.

  No order was apparent at the third and final line of defense. Soldiers ran in every direction. Maybe half had their weapons trained downrange. The command channel had descended into chaos. He stumbled into a captain and besieged him for information. “Sir, can we get the civilians out?”

  The captain let out a sadistic laugh. “Are you an idiot? There’s thirty million people in here. There’s an emergency exit, but only a trickle could get through. And where would they go? We’re all dead anyway. All of us are already dead!”

  “Here they come!” someone screamed.

  The crazed officer laughed hysterically. “See, I told you.”

  Wyatt tugged on his arm. “Roger, what should we do?”

  He straightened his pose and breathed deep. “Get on the line, corporal. Maybe we can buy some time for a couple people to make a run for it.”

  She nodded and rushed to take her place, firing as she hit the edge.

  He stood beside her and gave it everything be had.

  Hell and flames fell upon them.

  Chapter Ten

  Before the Storm

  “Good morning, colonel.”

  The voice took Jones by surprise. She’d been out of it for so long she wasn’t sure if she was awake or asleep. Her foggy mind didn’t allow her to place the familiar voice. She turned her head to take a look but her eyelids weighed a ton. To make matters worse, they were glued together by some sticky paste her body felt the need to manufacture.

  “Hello?” She coug
hed, managing to crack an eye open. Her vision was blurry.

  “Is she ready to receive visitors, doctor?” the voice asked.

  “Yes, it will do her good to start talking and moving around. She’s recovering nicely.”

  “Hello?”

  A fuzzy face turned toward her. “It’s me, Trent.” He came to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t push yourself, colonel. If it hurts to talk, don’t. I can come back later.”

  “No. Stay.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “What happened?”

  The doctor made a note on her chart. “You don’t remember?”

  She coughed. “Reactor.”

  Trent squeezed her hand. “Yeah, that’s right. You saved the mission. You and Lieutenant O’Shea. You stabilized the core but took a heck of a dose of radiation while doing it. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “Very lucky.” The doctor stuck his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “I’ve never seen someone take as much radiation as you and live.”

  “O’Shea?”

  Trent nodded. “He made it. In fact, he somehow dragged you out of the engine room. He saved your life.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how he did it. He must be one tough SOB. Just like you, colonel.”

  “Where is...he?”

  “Right next to you. He’s asleep.”

  “Mission?”

  “We’ll be dropping in a matter of hours. That’s why I came by, not sure when I’ll be able to see you again.”

  “Situation?”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, Nina. I promise the second the doc clears you, you’ll be right back on the front line.” He leaned down and hardened his face. “But not a second sooner. Do you understand me, colonel? That means no escaping from sick bay.”

  She wanted to argue but couldn’t find the strength. “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay. Get some rest. Heal up as fast as you can. I need you back in good shape as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”