Shatterbones

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Shatterbones Page 8

by Robert Brown


  “I want you two to know exactly where I am coming from. My son, my daughter-in-law and their children live and work in the Washington D.C. area. I understand more acutely than most what losing lives in our capital will mean. With that said, if you think clearing the capital will help save the lives of our people or help them hang on until we are able to rescue them, then you do every damn thing possible to clear out that area. Even if you have to burn down every building but the White House to do it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Nine

  Hellfire and Damnation

  Washington D.C.

  At 3:00AM, the first missiles rain down on the Palisades and Foxhall Crescent suburbs west of downtown Washington D.C. For twenty minutes, bombs and missiles will pummel the area through which the landing troops will tread. The residential area should be effectively leveled by the precision and devastating effect of the ordnance being dropped.

  It isn’t the random bombing that occurred in battlefields past; this is the focused destruction of every standing residence in a forty-block area leading up to the main targeted location. Thousands of troops are preparing to arrive at their goal to ensure the greatest chance of defeating the mutant threat.

  At 3:23AM, the troops are unloading on the banks and climbing up to Canal Road. From the Potomac River onto the banks of the capital, the ships firing and the soldiers and sailors advancing are carrying the weight of the nation’s survival on their shoulders. As regular ordnance rains down on the lands before them, gasoline bombs of varying magnitudes erase the darkness of the night and the report of each explosion is felt for miles.

  The campus of George Washington University is the targeted first stop of this campaign. Satellite imagery shows thousands of people gathered on the campus as is the case with many locations around D.C. The absence of major memorials, museums, and government buildings was an important determining factor in choosing the invasion from this part of the river. The primary rationale was the single-family-home design of the locale. Fewer multiple family residences meant fewer possible civilian casualties of individuals that have successfully hidden from the mutants that have taken over.

  The advancing troops shoot flames into the night air at the dark trees before them as they proceed without assault. Four thousand troops have been assembled and advanced onto our own shores and are working their way toward an American suburban battlefield without normal firearms at the ready. Most instead have hoses and nozzles attached to the tanks of accelerant on their backs. Thousands of soldiers walking through the night with dragons of Hell belching their flame at the darkness through which they walk.

  Those with regular weaponry have irregular ammunition. Flamethrower rounds are loaded into their shotguns instead of the usual lead slugs or buckshot. M-4’s have magazines loaded with thirty tracer rounds rather than their normal ball ammo. The order of the engagement was to use any weapon that burns to beat back the enemy and the effort in assembling the required weaponry was a resounding success.

  Due to the nature of the battle, too much of the world before them is in flames for the thermal ware to expose the much cooler bodies of humans. Their night vision goggles are largely unnecessary as well in the flaming illuminated world.

  The quiet nature of their advance is unnerving to many of the soldiers. No attacks have been made against them throughout their movement in the Palisades area. As the troops continue their trek across this smoldering landscape, the only recipients of the flaming projectiles and streams of chemical fire thus far are the occasional animal that had survived the aerial bombardment and is startled out of the rubble by the passing men.

  The first line of soldiers has reached a wooded area which separates them from the next objective, the Foxhall Crescent subdivision which lies adjacent to the university. Satellite data shows the majority of people are being held on a field and tennis courts to the southeast of their position.

  Before advancing farther, one of the lieutenants radios to express concern over the lack of resistance.

  “We haven’t encountered any of the mutants.”

  “Drone imagery shows none in your area. We are unable to differentiate between mutant and non, but all living persons in the area still appear to be gathered around the courts and field at the school. We are unlocking your data stream so you should be receiving a still image of the coverage area as we are currently viewing.”

  “Roger that. I have it on my display. I’m shutting the display down, and we’ll move through this wooded area to the next subdivision.”

  “Be advised, Lieutenant Morales, the final row of houses before reaching the campus field should be untouched or minimally damaged. The civilian population is too close to that location for us to use ordnance unless there is a major advance.”

  “Everyone continue the advance,” Morales calls out over the com.

  “Lieutenant, there’s something wrong with this. We should have encountered something by now.”

  “This morning, these mutants were just kids, Watkins. It is possible they are scared of us and hiding at the school.”

  “Scared of us? You saw what they were doing to people on those videos. Why the hell would they be collecting all the regular people in the area around them unless they were going to be used as food?”

  “Maybe they are kids that are afraid of the dark and want adults around for protection. Look, I don’t know why we haven’t run into any of them yet, but I’m not all gung-ho about running in there and burning them all up. My little brother is out there somewhere.”

  “Out here? In D.C.?”

  “No, not here, but he’s out in the country somewhere, and even if he did change, I bet he’s afraid. I heard one of the higher ups mention these things were talking. If they’re talking, then they didn’t lose their minds when they changed. And if they didn’t lose their minds…”

  “Then they still have the minds of children.”

  “Exactly. Little kids that don’t know what the fuck is going on any more than we do.”

  The advance through the trees and the rubble-strewn streets of the burning subdivision is as uneventful as the previous trek through the Palisades portion. No sightings, no movement, no fight.

  “Lieutenant Morales, there is some movement going on in the crowd on the field. Advance another hundred yards and hold.”

  “Everyone, head up another hundred yards and hold position until we get word.”

  “Base, can you release live drone footage to me? It would be helpful to see what’s going on up there myself.

  “Base, this is Lieutenant Morales. Can you release live drone footage to me?”

  “We are reading you, Lieutenant. That is a negative on the drone footage. You are to ascertain what you can and cannot make of the enemy through visuals alone.”

  “What the fuck is that about, Lieutenant? Why won’t they let us see what’s up ahead?”

  The lieutenant shoots a look to Watkins to get him to shut up. Although they are right next to each other and Watkins whispered, it is still possible some of the other men nearby could have heard him. It doesn’t help leading men into a battle if they think the higher-ups are hiding information and something is wrong.

  “Lieutenant Morales, we are tasking a satellite to get a visual of the area. Has there been any rocket fire in your vicinity or any aircraft overhead?”

  “Base, there has been no rocket fire or aircraft overhead since your ordnance stopped right before we cleared the wooded area.”

  “Just to be clear, Lieutenant, there have been no explosions in the air overhead?”

  “Base, there hasn’t been anything. The only thing I hear out here is the crackling of fire from what’s left of these burning houses.”

  “Be advised the drones have been lost, Lieutenant. We have no more drone coverage of the area.”

  “Base, have the images been jammed or locked?”

  “The drones have been lost. Something has impacted both drones and th
ey have been knocked out of the sky. Do you have any visual of the enemy yet?”

  Several flamethrowers shoot out at once toward a lone figure approaching the line of soldiers. The figure is a tall, pale woman wearing no clothes but carrying a strange object on her back.

  A clear resonating voice echoes through the air. “Why have you destroyed our homes? Who is in charge here?”

  The lieutenant grabs an amplifier and calls back to the woman. “We’re here to free the people the mutants took hostage. Who are you?”

  “Free the people? Aren’t you here to kill us as well? I am one of the mutants you came for.”

  “What is your name?”

  “My name is Amanda.”

  “Amanda, if you release the people you have at the university behind you and leave this area, there will be no need to for us to take aggressive action.”

  “The people at the school are our family. They are our friends and neighbors. We are protecting them and have been organizing our new community.” Her voice grows in intensity and anger. “You have destroyed our homes! I lived in a house just beyond the woods that you made sure is no longer there. There is no safety for them in this wasteland you created.”

  “Will you release the people you are holding?”

  “My mother does not want me to fight you, so I will give you the opportunity to leave. If you go now, you won’t be punished for what you have done.”

  “Lady, I have four thousand men with me. You will release those people or we will. You don’t want us to start killing you and your friends do you?”

  “Four thousand men and you are in charge of them, correct?”

  “If you’re thinking of getting rid of me, it won’t stop my men from completing this mission.”

  “I heard a woman speaking to you in your earpiece, can you still speak with her? Is she able to hear what is going on?”

  When Amanda mentions his earpiece, he inadvertently puts his hand to his ear. How could this woman hear the voice from base?

  “If you can speak to her, I want you to tell her everything you witness here tonight. I will save you for last so they understand exactly what they have done by sending you to destroy our homes.”

  The woman lowers her head and the strange object she was carrying on her back opens up and spreads out.

  “She has wings!” Lieutenant Morales says as gunfire and flames erupt toward her.

  Two pale white wings start beating at the air and lifting her into the sky as tracer rounds fly around and into her. As she flies away from the fiery onslaught, the men let out a cheer which is quickly extinguished by the entrance of the pale mutant army. The men on the front line are barely able to fire ten rounds before they are hit by a small group of mutants that speed out of the darkness at them.

  “You have brought four thousand men to kill me and my family.” Amanda’s voice echoes through the night air above the din of gunshots and explosions. “Watch and report to your superiors what just twenty of my one hundred and forty brothers and sisters can do if we are provoked.”

  The mutant group run head on into the columns of liquid flame pouring on them. Covered in fire, the mutants pierce the line at one spot and toss bodies through the air in all directions. Once beyond the front line, the group split off from each other and head into two, then four, then eight different directions. They break up geometrically and spread out among the soldiers who are unable to use the flame throwers in the crowded field and are barely able to fire their ineffective rounds at their speeding attackers.

  “Lieutenant Morales, what is happening, what do you see?”

  The lieutenant relays his image of the destruction.

  “I see fire. The mutants are using it against us. Fire doesn’t affect them. I repeat, fire does not affect them or they are able to self-repair quicker than it does damage. Oh my God. They are using the flamethrowers.”

  “Are our men starting to win? What is happening?”

  “The mutants. They are using the flamethrowers against us.”

  Just then, the lieutenant is slammed to the ground, and with a great rushing of wind, he is lifted into the air. Amanda has him and is flying him above the battlefield.

  “I wanted you to see the fight from up here since I took out your little drones. It’s beautiful isn’t it?” she whispers into his ear. “Almost like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Tell them, tell the woman what you see.”

  “I see explosions and fire everywhere. The mutants are crushing the chemical tanks on our soldiers’ backs and throwing them into the air before they explode in flames. I see one, no two mutants have taken flamethrower packs and are running around our men setting everyone on fire. The mutants are too fast and the fire isn’t affecting them. Base, we have to retreat. Call in a retreat.”

  Amanda pulls the headset from Morales and speaks into the microphone as she continues to fly higher over the battlefield.

  “You can order a retreat if you want. Most of your men are already running for their lives but none will make it. I will kill every single one of them for what you have done to my home.”

  Amanda replaces the headset on Morales and spins him around so he is facing her at the end of her outstretched arms.

  “Please,” Morales says in barely more than a whisper.

  Amanda’s reply is expressionless. The only sound she utters is the beating of her enormous wings as she releases him to fall into the flaming mass of men in the distance below.

  Hundreds of miles from the battle, President Connelly listens to the fighting as it unfolds. Hands gripping tightly over the back of a chair, he watches a thermal satellite feed of the carnage.

  “How much time has gone by?” Connelly asks.

  “Twelve minutes, Mr. President.”

  “Do you think she can do it? We have four thousand men down there. Can she kill them all with only twenty other mutants?”

  The room goes silent while they listen to Amanda’s final words, and a few people shudder when they hear Morales say please followed by his long agonizing scream as he plummets hundreds of feet to his death.

  “Can she kill all of our men out there?” Connelly yells.

  “Sir, we can’t get a visual of the mutants engaged in the battle due to their speed and the heat signature of all the fire. As you can see, there are individual heat signatures of fast-moving mutants surrounding the battlefield. No one will be able to escape that area. I’m afraid our men are trapped and at the mercy of the mutants at this point.”

  “I want our ships to unload everything they have on that area.”

  “But our men, sir. They could...”

  “They could what? Be captured and used as food? You heard that monster. She said she would kill them all, and I agree our men won’t make it out of there alive! I want those mutants killed. Order our ships to fire on that field and keep firing until we give them new coordinates or tell them to stop.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The chief of staff gets on the phone to relay the president’s orders while the rest remain glued to the lopsided destruction on the screens. Some hurried discussion followed by some angry orders into the receiver cause the assembly to turn their gaze to the secretary.

  “Mr. President, our ships aren’t responding.”

  “What? Is it the mutants? Are they blocking our communications?”

  Walking swiftly over to the soldier running the satellite feeds, he gives him some coordinates to enter. Half of the screens blink to another scene of destruction. A ship engulfed in flames is rocking violently as it lists to one side. The hulls of two others are in the water as well.

  “How many did we have out there?”

  A bright flash causes the thermal image to white out. The picture returns to show the flaming ship now ripped in half from an explosion and it is sinking into the sea. The warm white heat outlines of human bodies can be seen swimming away from their former ocean posts. One by one, each of the heat outlines vanishes under the waves until the screen shows only
the remnants of burning hulks.

  “There were five vessels in that group, sir.”

  The lights blink out and the screens go blank. Distant gunfire and screams are heard in the school above them before any flashlights are able to be turned on.

  “Mr. President, get behind us!” one of the men yells as they roughly force him into a corner of the shelter and crowd in front of him with weapons raised toward the door.

  Shouting and gunfire continues its slow approach to the door of the shelter. They can hear the shots move across the hall above them as the president’s men are killed or retreat back to the shelter. The echoing gunfire continues moving down the stairs, and the final few shots are given outside the door before them. The door slowly swings open, and Agent Carlisle moves into the light the remaining guards are shining at the doorway.

  The words he utters sound vacant and robotic. “I have a message for you from Amanda.”

  Carlisle’s body falls from the grip of the mutant that was holding him. The men guarding the president all begin shooting at the intruder, but the night is lost. A large hundred pound propane tank is tossed into the room with several unpinned grenades taped around it. The president and his men disappear in the rubble of their burning fortress when the tank explodes and the battle comes to an end.

  Chapter Ten

  Oath of Office

  Colorado

  Hurried footsteps run down the stairwell surrounding Secretary of Defense James Thomas. Three armed men in front of him lead the way as one of the four others pull him along forcefully in their exit from the building.

  Only moments ago, Thomas was in a meeting with several other nations’ defense ministers. Thomas’ surprise when the men burst into the conference room was muted compared to the reaction of the other diplomats. The sensitive nature of their discussion had all of the men on edge and while Secretary Thomas was jolted for the first few seconds. He is familiar with the extraction techniques American military and government forces use to rescue officials.

 

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