by Jake Bible
“Yeah, I get it!” Lowell spits. “Stupid fucking pun!”
“Jesus, you two,” Bolton says. “Just fuck already.”
This stops Lu and Lowell instantly in their tracks.
“No way, man.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“There. You two done now?” Bolton asks. “I figured that would shut you up.”
“Not cool, dude,” Lowell says, shivering with disgust.
Lu looks behind them at the group of survivors that have walked for hours and hours, miles and miles, following her, thinking she has a plan. Now they just stare at her as she loses her shit on a prisoner that has no business being in the position he is in.
“Let’s see what we can find,” Lu says. “Look for anything useful.”
“We can cross the whole city off the list of useful,” Lowell says, looking around at the destruction. “What the hell could cause this so fast?”
“Looks like artillery,” Bolton says. “Except I’m not seeing blast marks like we should.”
Lu turns to the group behind them. “Find supplies,” she orders. “Anything we may need like food, water, warm clothing, face masks, anything. Keep moving and looking and we’ll meet on the other side of the city.” She takes a deep breath, her eyes truly seeing the desperation and hopelessness for the first time. “Then we start walking to Spokane.”
“What about Terrie and Kyle?” Bolton asks.
“If they are here, they are here,” Lu replies, taking a deep breath. “If they aren’t, then they aren’t.”
“Now she’s seeing reason,” Lowell says and quickly steps out of her reach.
“Shut the fuck up,” Lu says and stomps off.
The emotions inside her wage war. One side insists she is abandoning her family by not doing everything needed to find them. The other side keeps showing her the faces of the dozens of men, women, and children that have been traveling with her all this way. If she ditches them for her own personal needs, she’s no better than Lowell.
Back and forth her mind goes, keeping her so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost doesn’t notice what sticks out from the second story of the building next to her when she rounds the street corner. If it wasn’t for the brake fluid that drips down in a constant stream, Lu would have walked right past it.
“What the fuck?” she says as she wipes a drop of brake fluid from her cheek. She looks up and does a double take. “Hey, Connor?”
“Yeah?” Bolton replies as he jogs up next to her. “What…?”
“How the hell do you think that got up there?” she asks. “Some explosion?”
“No, the car would be more damaged,” Bolton says. “And look at how the building is? If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was dropped.”
“Dropped?” Lu asks. “How the hell could that happen?”
“I said if I didn’t know any better,” Bolton replies. “Which I do. It would take a construction crane to get it high enough to drop like that. I don’t see any cranes around here.”
“Bizarre,” she nods. She studies the car for a minute then looks up at the rest of the building. Movement above catches her eye and she glances at the ash cloud. “Oh, shit.”
Swirling in and out of the cloud are dozens and dozens of the flying monsters. They swoop and dive, roll and rise, a multitude of slick, leathery wings and sharp talons.
“Holy crap,” Bolton says. “Look at them all. What are they doing?”
***
“What are we doing?” Dr. Probst asks as they run from the golf course. “Where are we going?”
Coletti looks over at the geologist then at Moss. “Where can we find the best cover?”
“I don’t know,” Moss says. “Haven’t had to hide here before. We always just salvage and then head back to the bunker.”
“The bunker? Where is that?” Coletti asks.
“An hour ride northwest,” Moss says. “But that’s too far, right? They’re sending in the bombers now, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, that’s too far,” Coletti says. “We need somewhere closer. Where are the municipal buildings? Usually those have underground storm shelters.”
“Center of town,” Moss says. “This way.”
He takes off running and is almost out the front gate when he stops in his tracks.
“Dude, what’s wrong?” Kyle asks as he catches up to the man.
Moss turns around and they see the large knife sticking from his belly.
“There you are,” Linder smiles as he steps away from one of the large stone columns by the gate. “I was worried.”
“Fuck…,” Kyle whispers.
Linder pulls the .38 from the waistband of the small of his back and aims it at Coletti and Dr. Probst.
“Introduce me to your friends, Kyle,” Linder says. “I always want to know who my son is hanging out with.”
“I don’t know who you are, but we don’t have time for this,” Coletti says.
“I’ve been hunting for this boy for almost his entire life,” Linder says. “We’ll make time.”
“Great. Just fucking great,” Dr. Probst says. “I’m going to die on a fucking golf course.”
***
“Command, this is Halo Alpha,” the pilot calls out. “Approaching the target. Cannot confirm visuals due to the ash cloud, but targeting is locked. Ready to deploy payload on your orders.”
“Deploy when ready,” a voice replies. “Presidential order Tango One One Nine Delta is a go. Good luck.”
The pilot looks down at the ash cloud only a thousand feet below his B-52 bomber then glances at the altimeter before him. 62,000 feet. That’s a few thousand feet higher than the massive plane’s service ceiling threshold of 55,000 feet. But the squadron was told to get above the cloud and stay above the cloud at all costs.
“Truman Squadron,” the pilot calls over the com. “Commence bombing run. Empty your payloads on my mark. Three, two, one.”
The eighteen B-52 bombers flying in formation around Halo Alpha all dip lower, getting as close to the cloud as possible before their bomb bay doors open. Massive, bright orange missiles are lowered from the planes, six per bomber, their size and weight causing increased drag, forcing the pilots to compensate instantly.
It’s that hesitation by some of the pilots that makes them miss what comes up at them from the cloud.
“Sir!” a gunner shouts over the Halo Alpha com. “Bogeys! Coming up fast!”
“Drop ordinance now!” the pilot shouts. “NOW!”
A winged beast rushes straight at the bomber, its six legs outstretched, talon claws reaching, reaching, grabbing.
“What the hell?” the pilot shouts. “It’s on us!”
The monster grips the six orange missiles in its talon and rips them free from their harnesses, then dives back towards the cloud. The violence of the attack sends the bomber spinning out of control and it soon involuntarily follows the creature into the thick ash.
“DROP EVERYTHING NOW!” the pilot screams. “DO NOT LET THE ENEMY TAKE YOUR PAYLOAD!”
He can hear several voices shouting into the com, most announcing they have successfully dropped their payload and are now trying evasive maneuvers to get away from the attacking beasts. Many other voices are shouting and calling out that they’ve been grabbed and are falling out of control through the ash.
The pilot fights the controls, desperate to get the bomber steady and level so he can get his crew out of this nightmare. But the plane is too heavy, the ash cloud too thick, and the situation too unreal for even his trained mind to grasp.
The bomber shoots out from the ash cloud and the pilot gasps, and then cries out as he gets a whirling look at what lies below. The chasm is massive, easily 200 miles across. But that isn’t what makes him cry out. It’s what’s in the chasm.
He sees fire and darkness, but also something else. Something moving.
“Mother of God,” he whispers. “What is that?”
Then a flying monster whips
past him, the MOABs clutched in its claws. If the pilot wasn’t stunned before, he is now when he watches the monster spread its wings wide and slow its descent.
Then it lets the bombs go, sending them falling directly into the chasm at what lies within.
***
“Tell your dad to put the gun down,” Coletti says to Kyle.
“He’s not my fucking dad!” Kyle shouts. “He’s some crazy fucker I’ve had to hide from my whole life!”
“You never had to hide from me,” Linder says. “No child should hide from their father.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Kyle says and throws his hands up in the air.
“Mister, whoever you are, you need to understand something,” Coletti says, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “The President of the United States just ordered that the entire area be carpet bombed with MOABs. Do you know what a MOAB does?”
“Yes, I do,” Linder says. “They have a blast radius of what, 200 meters? Maybe 300 meters? They incinerate anything and everything in that radius. Not to mention a shock wave that can bring down buildings.” Linder shrugs and glances quickly around. “I don’t think we have to worry about that. Looks like Missoula came pre-leveled.”
He laughs at his own weak joke. Coletti shakes his head.
“There is something seriously wrong with you,” Coletti says.
“What gave it away?” Dr. Probst mutters under her breath.
“Listen, in minutes there will be MOABs raining down on this area,” Coletti says. “We have to get somewhere deep underground. We have to find shelter or we’re going to be nothing but ash like that cloud up there.”
Linder glances past Coletti for a split second in the direction of the hole. He looks back at Coletti and sneers. But the sneer falls away quickly and his eyes are forced to look over Coletti’s shoulder once again.
“I don’t believethat is what President Nance had in mind,” Linder laughs. “Do you?”
Coletti eyes Linder for a minute, but can see the man’s attention is focused squarely on the sky behind him. He debates whether to use Linder’s distraction and take the crazy fuck down, but the multitude of wails and shrieks ends the debate. Coletti turns, as do Dr. Probst and Kyle, and they all stare.
“Holy fuck,” Kyle says.
“No fucking shit, kid,” Coletti responds.
The sky is filled with flying creatures, all swooping and zooming through the air under the ash cloud. They are everywhere. Coletti watches as two dip their wings and rocket towards a set of orange missiles. They grab them up in their claws, and then roll to the side, turning back towards the massive hole. Once over the chasm, they let the missiles fall, sending them directly into the maw of the massive hole.
Over and over, the monsters maneuver through the sky, collecting the falling bombs, and depositing them right where they want them. In a matter of minutes, there are no longer missiles in the air, just flying monsters, all circling, circling, circling the hole.
“Go,” Coletti says. “Run! Now!”
“No one is running!” Linder shouts, cocking the hammer back. “We are staying right here!”
“No, you ain’t,” Moss coughs as he pulls the knife from his body and jams it into Linder’s calf.
The man falls to the ground screaming and the gun goes off. Coletti grunts and falls to a knee, his hand going to his pocket.
“Here!” he shouts and tosses Dr. Probst the CLD. “Take that and run! You have a sat phone. Call this in once you find shelter. The President needs to know what’s happening.”
Dr. Probst catches the CLD easily, but just stares at it. Another gunshot, this one hitting the ground right next to Coletti, wakes her from her daze and she shakes her head and glares at Linder. Then she turns and runs full out past the country club entrance.
Kyle watches her for a second, but then takes off after her.
“Kyle! KYLE!” Linder yells as he tries to stand, but his leg crumples under him, the knife bobbing in the meat of his calf. “COME BACK!”
“You crazy fuck,” Coletti says as he gets up and stumbles over to Linder.
The man whips the gun up at him, but Coletti kicks it out of his hands and then stomps on Linder’s arm. With his other arm, Linder yanks the knife free of his leg and swipes at Coletti, but the lieutenant is able to jump back out of the way. This frees up Linder’s other arm and he pulls himself forward, his hand inches from the fallen .38.
Coletti lunges and brings a fist down into Linder’s face, but he gets a slash across his cheek for the trouble. Blood pours from the wound as Coletti rolls backwards, out of Linder’s reach, and presses his hand to his face. A flap of skin about six inches long squirms under Coletti’s fingers and he realizes he can kiss his good looks goodbye. This thought seems to amuse his fatigued mind and he starts laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Linder snarls as he struggles to get up, but his leg just won’t hold him. “Shut up! Stop laughing!”
“There’s always you,” Coletti says. “Some guy like you that has to gum things up.”
Coletti is able to get to his feet, but the world swims around him and he looks down to see a lot of very dark blood staining his uniform. He keeps laughing, but it takes on a jagged tone.
“I knew a guy in Afghanistan that had one day before his tour was up,” Coletti says, limping towards the .38, racing Linder for the gun. It’s a slow race, as both wounded men bleed like stuck pigs. “This guy, he had a friend in the local village. Just some merchant that he liked to have tea with.”
Coletti gets to Linder’s hand before he gets to the pistol and presses his boot down on the man’s fingers. Linder cries out, and then tries to slash him with the knife again, but Coletti is ready for the attack. He blocks the knife with his other foot, letting the blade slice a huge hunk of the heavy duty rubber sole, and drops fast, sending his knee right into Linder’s face. The crunch of bone echoes loud, even with the horrendous noises the beasts above make.
“My friend was having tea one afternoon,” Coletti says, sending a fist into Linder’s face as he grabs the man’s knife hand and twists the wrist quickly, snapping the bone. “They were busy talking about kids and family and normal stuff two husbands and fathers would talk about. All while sipping this awful black stuff that tastes more like cough syrup than tea.”
Coletti lands another punch and another and Linder spits a broken tooth up at him.
“I got to go have tea with the two of them since it was my bud’s last day,” Coletti continues. “He wanted to introduce me to his friend and hoped I’d take his place during tea time when I could.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Linder spits.
Coletti responds with two more punches, making Linder’s eyes start to roll back in his head. “Shut up. I’m telling a story.”
Coletti coughs hard and a spray of blood shoots from between his lips.
“Got...ya,” Linder says, quietly, his voice nothing but a semi-conscious rasp.
“Hardly,” Coletti says as he elbows Linder in the face then boxes his ears. “Be quiet and listen.”
Coletti tries to take a deep breath, but his chest hitches and he lets loose with a long, wet cough. More blood sprays from his mouth and he’s forced to fall back on his ass. Which gives him the angle and leverage to kick Linder in the face, adding to the bloody mess.
“Where was I? Right. Afghanistan,” Coletti says, his breath coming in ragged starts and stops. “So I’m sitting there in this man’s house, which is really a hut made of mud and stone and old wood, but the place was clean. Like really clean. Made my apartment in the states look like a frat house dive.” He kicks Linder again and then again. “Anyway, we’re having tea and the man’s brother-in-law comes walking in. He sees us and his face just turns to rage.”
Coletti pauses as a harsh coughing fit overtakes him. It’s a couple of minutes before he gets it under control.
“This guy’s brother-in-law is pissed and starts yelling at the man in Arabic,” Coletti says.
“My pal and I stand up, ready to just leave and diffuse the situation, but the brother-in-law pulls out this handgun from his robes. I don’t even get a chance to see what kind it is before he puts a bullet in our host’s head then turns and fires into my pal.”
Coletti looks at Linder and reaches towards him, slapping the man on the cheek weakly.
“Hey? You awake?” Coletti says. Linder’s eyes flutter open. “Good. You need to listen to this. So, our host is dead and my pal is lying on the floor bleeding out when the brother-in-law turns the gun on me. He pulls the trigger and it clicks empty. I jump the guy and take him down. I want nothing more than to snap his neck right there, but I know the situation is going to look bad. If an American comes walking out of a local’s house, leaving two dead locals behind, then the village is going to think I did it all. Had to keep the mother fucker alive.”
Coletti taps his head.
“That was the training taking over,” Coletti continues. “Thinking smart in a bad situation. I radio it in and soon the whole village is locked down. The local tribal leaders are called and I’ve got the head shed up my ass. It takes days to get the story straight. Finally the brother-in-law confesses. He tells the whole thing just how it happened. And you know what?”
Linder just stares blankly.
“Hey? Pay attention. You know what the brother-in-law said? You know why he killed his own wife’s brother? Because he said it was the right thing to do. That was it. The right thing to do.”
Coletti jabs a finger into Linder’s cheek.
“You’re just like that guy. You justify your actions, thinking the world owes you because you were wronged somehow and only you can set things right.”
Coletti slaps Linder on the forehead.
“How’s that working out for you now, asshole?” Coletti laughs, and then begins to choke as his lungs fill with blood.
He falls to his side, his body shuddering with the wet, heavy coughs. He tries to breathe, but there’s no room for air in his chest. He looks over and sees Linder smiling.
“Fuck...you,” Coletti says just before life leaves him.
