by Mark Tufo
“No, I don’t think he’d willingly give this place up, but he might not have a choice. He might not even know he’s doing it. We have no way of knowing what type of interrogation tactics the aliens have. And no, we don’t evacuate. We have nowhere else to go. If they come, we stand and we fight. There is no choice in this matter. This is our best hope and this is where we’ll stand, or fall.” He added softly.
Paul sat when the corporal left to think out the events of the past couple of days. Major Salazar and some of his men came out of the tunnel and all had sustained injuries of one sort or another. Two of the more severely injured were still in the hospital with gunshot wounds and a couple of broken bones. The rest had varying degrees that would classify them as “walking wounded,” injured but not badly enough to be taken off active duty.
Major Salazar had taken a small detail down the tunnel to figure out if shutting the tunnel would have been the best overall plan for the Hill; and, if so, how would they go about it safely. They were studying some of the blueprints for that leg of the tunnel when a small band of five men came running in their direction. Even from a hundred yards off, Major Salazar saw the trepidation in those men’s eyes. They hadn’t been expecting company. The major immediately withdrew his side arm. Most of the rest of the small detail followed suit. The two that were shot had not been so quick to react, and thus, Darwin’s theory of evolution is wrought forward.
The approaching men stopped and started firing on the major’s position while the major’s men returned fire, killing one of the saboteurs instantly. Then they did something that took the major completely by surprise; they got up and started running towards him. It was like target practice, the colonel thought. Two of the men didn’t made it twenty yards before they were riddled with bullets. Another man fell when the bomb blast hit. Debris rained down and the major heard sharp cries from his men. Some had been hit by falling rocks and beams. The choking dust was thoroughly blinding. The major wanted to get his men out but was unsure which way that was.
Then the nearby sound of an M-16 report followed by the entirely too close sound of a high-velocity projectile slamming off to the right of the major’s head caused him to hasten his decision. The colonel and two of his men who hadn’t succumbed to injury fired suppression shots to keep the attacker at bay. But it was like shooting in the dark. “There’s no way he can see better than us, can he?” one of them asked. The shots were coming dangerously closer.
“Keep firing.” The major shouted over their protestations.
“Major, I can’t see anything,” one of his men replied.
“Neither can that bastard, but he’s still getting pretty close.”
The opposition shots had ceased, and the major told his men to stop shooting for fear that the noise would muffle the others’ true intentions of just slipping by through the cloak of dust. An eerie silence broke out. The support timbers groaned under the new weight load, and the major feared that if he didn’t get his men out soon, they would be added to the victims roster. With four men severely injured and only three relatively healthy, getting them out of there, while watching their six was going to be extremely difficult. Difficult times call for extreme measures. So slowly but surely, the injured men extracted themselves from the damage, breathing a little easier as they went, but remaining vigilant.
Nothing was ever seen of the lone gunman again. He never surfaced at either end, and when the tunnel collapsed two hours later, he never would. The major was just emerging from the tunnel when the second blast hit. From what he could tell, the blast was more than halfway across the compound.
“Major!” came a very disoriented voice. “I request that you and your men drop your firearms.”
“Don’t you see I have wounded here!” the major barked.
“Sir, my orders are to disarm everyone that comes through the exit.”
The major seethed but fighting with these guards could cost him the lives of more of his men, and his pride was not worth it.
“Fine. Get my men to the infirmary and take me to the colonel.” The guard’s stance softened a bit when he realized there would be no fighting.
“And, Sergeant,” he added as he turned around. “There’s at least one more man still alive in there and he’s armed; the difference is, he’s dangerous.” The sergeant stiffened, realizing that maybe his day was becoming a little more eventful than it already was. The second explosion came dangerously close to the Hill’s ammunition banks. If that had ignited, the aliens would have had to award the rebels a gold star for helping them. As it was, the ammunition bunker was a closely guarded area with armory troops hand-picked by Paul. They had been there since the beginning and comprised the elite of the military force.
The renegades assumed a charge placed close enough would do the trick but Paul had planned well. The bunker was re-bar, reinforced concrete. It was the type of concrete-reinforced structure that military units throughout the world used; and no small C-4 explosive device was going to penetrate that tough skin.
Two men, who were seen running from the vicinity moments before the blast were rounded up and persuaded to talk. It was amazing what a tooth extraction without anesthesia can do to a grown man’s philosophy on life. They sang like freed canaries.
Within minutes, twenty or so dissidents were rounded up who were also convinced to talk, albeit with less brute force. One look at their comrades’ bloody mouths and they gave up everything. All in all, they captured somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty hardcore rebels.
The majority of them started running for their freedom with the initial bomb blast. Most of those, however, had also been taken captive while some died in the ensuing gun battles. At least five survived to escape. Paul had troops out looking for them, he had to admit, if only to himself, that if they hadn’t been found by now, the likelihood of them being caught later was next to nil.
Chapter 44
Somewhere in Space
Most semblances of broadcast radio, and television, especially, were in shambles. An occasional local station was still up and running. Most of them were only on to broadcast the safest places to go for shelter or where there was a possibility of getting fresh bread. The stations, that were still operational, were guarded like fortresses.
During the early days of the invasion, many of the stations had been overrun with doomsayers and throngs of people who wanted to have their fifteen minutes of fame. Who could blame them when they only thought they had an hour left? Why not be a celebrity for one quarter of it? On this fateful night, ratings were about to take a huge leap. The aliens had beamed a signal to every functioning station on the planet, radio and television alike.
“Hu-mans!” the alien voice began. “We have an event unlike any other ever viewed in your lifetimes. One week from tonight, your champion, Mike Talbot.” At this point in my illustrious career, the vast majority of the planet’s population had no clue whom I was. The aliens must have assumed I had paraded around the world, telling everyone of my exploits. Nothing, however, could have been further from the truth.
The military, from the beginning, wanted to keep the story as quiet as possible. Even if they hadn’t, I had no desire whatsoever to keep reliving the events of those eighteen months. The droning voice continued.
“…will face another of your own, Durgan O’Shea, in a fight to the death. The winner will be crowned champion of the Earth gladiator games. He will then have the honor and privilege to fight, also to the death, the Genogerian champion, Drababan.”
At this point, all of our faces were shown on the screen. Although I wasn’t actually there to witness it, I can tell you that every person who saw that broadcast had all the color drain out of their faces in an instant. Sure, Durgan looked insane and I looked scared, but it was Drababan's mug that had everyone captivated. Most people had yet to see the species that was wreaking so much havoc on the planet, but there he was.
He wasn’t skinny with big black eyes and long slender fingers like most
of the earlier “abductees” claimed. He was immense, intelligent and fucking scary looking. The snout was smaller than today’s traditional crocodile, but the teeth looked every bit as nasty.
“The winner of this match, if human…” The pause on “if human” was purposeful. The aliens had no illusions that their champion would lose. Only once, on the hundreds of planets they ransacked, had the local champion beaten the Genogerian champion. That was the Stryver’s, Andible Louter. The Progerians hadn’t taken too kindly to that loss and retaliated by wiping out the entire bloodline of the offending Genogerian, making future losses that much less, palatable.
“…will simply be set free.” The message was repeated that way for two hours every day, basically just a recording that played over and over. Eventually, anyone who had not heard about it electronically learned by word of mouth. It could have been the biggest pay per view event ever in human history, but Don King was already presumed dead and now there wasn’t a promoter big enough to take on the event.
***
Beth had dozed off when fate, divine intervention, coincidence, whatever you want to call it stepped in. The truck hit an enormous pothole, shaking the cab to its core. Beth was startled to alertness, but the swaying of the cab knocked her knee into the old Delco stock radio, roaring it into life. Beth’s first instinct was to hit the power button before the obnoxious blare of static came on. She and Deb had tried unsuccessfully throughout their ride across the states to find something on the airwaves, but each time, they were only rewarded with the sound of the crackling paper, as they came to affectionately call it. They simply quit trying when they hit Pennsylvania, and hadn’t turned it on since. Before Beth could get to the dial, she caught something about being “set free.”
“Did you hear that?” She sat up straight and looked over at the sergeant trying to gauge whether she had just hallucinated or actually heard right.
“Yeah, I heard something. I didn’t really catch it though.” The sergeant was excited also. His unit had been monitoring everything since the attacks began. The most they ever got was the occasional ham operator fishing to see if anybody else was still out there.
“This message will repeat in five minutes,” the radio blared as Beth cranked the volume to maximum in an attempt to wring out more from it. She hastily turned it back down, but not too far; she didn’t want to miss a word. She was almost giddy with excitement and had no idea how she was going to make the next five minutes pass, she thought conversation might help.
“Do you think it’s a message from the government telling us the aliens have left? That would be so wonderful,” she continued as she clasped her hands together. “I mean, could it be true? Could we all be free?”
“Hold on, Beth! What exactly did you hear?” The sergeant asked cautiously.
“All I heard was something about being ‘set free’.” The excitement in her voice was palpable. The sergeant wanted to catch the fever also, but he was a little more skeptical, not because he didn’t want to believe, he just didn’t want to believe before he was sure it was true. Utter disappointment was a little more pain than he was prepared to deal with at the moment. What if everything he had done in the last few days was unnecessary? How could he tell his wife and child? His parents? What would he tell his men?
“Pull over!” Beth moaned.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” The sergeant was concerned. He thought Beth saw something. Something potentially dangerous.
“I think I’m going to be sick. Please pull over.” She labored, her cupped hands at the ready in case the truck didn’t get into the soft shoulder fast enough. The sergeant did his best to bring the truck to a safe and controlled stop. Beth had barely enough time to fumble with the door handle before her breakfast made its triumphant resurgence.
The sergeant waited the obligatory few minutes until he heard her innards calm down. Then he climbed out of the truck. “Are you alright? Was it something you ate? I hope not ‘cause I ate the same things you did.”
“No,” she said as she stood up, wiping the corner of her mouth with her jacket sleeve. “It was something I heard.”
“Was it something I said? Oh… Wait. The radio? What about it?”
“The man they were talking about.”
“Yeah, Mike Turtle, or something like that.”
“No, Mike Talbot,” she said, a little exasperated. “That’s my Mike.”
Recognition dawned on the sergeant’s face. A pang of jealousy ripped through his belly. Where did that come from? He mused. “That’s THE Mike Talbot? I thought he was safe in a protected bunker somewhere.”
“So did I.” Concern laced Beth’s face. “We’ve got to get to get to where he said he would be when we talked as fast as we can. I’ve got to find out what’s going on.” And the jealousy was back. The sergeant, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why he was having such strong feelings for her. He found it terribly distracting.
“Say something, Grady!” Beth pouted. She looked like a spoiled child who wasn’t getting the attention she felt she deserved. The sergeant was half expecting her to stomp her foot on the ground and cross her arms and then what? Pout her bottom lip out? Yeah, that would complete the picture, he figured.
“Where did he say he would be?" He asked.
"Walpole, it's a small town right outside of Boston."
"Well, with any luck, we should be able to get there in two days. Three tops.”
Now her lip did begin to protrude. “That’s too long. I want to be there tonight.”
“We can’t do it, Beth. We’ve got to be extremely careful crossing over. Every access road is going to be covered. I told you we are going to have to ditch the truck and cross over by foot. And once we hit the woods, it’s going to be some difficult traversing.
“And IF, (he emphasized “if”) we get through without any serious problems, we’ve still got to secure some sort of transportation, which in itself isn’t going to be easy. The Massachusetts National Guard, confiscated nearly all the cars and trucks that weren’t being used by their owners. And in some cases, they took those too. So you kind of see the dilemma.”
Beth clearly saw it, but that didn’t mean she liked it.
“Fine! Let’s get going,” she said as she hopped back in the cab of the truck.
Chapter 45 – Mike Journal Entry Eleven
“Where am I?” I said somewhat dazed. I attempted to sit up, to no avail. I was not sure whether I was sedated into paralysis or wearing restraints. When my head cleared up a little later on, I realized it was both. The room was lit but, much to my chagrin I realized, it was the ever present, all-surrounding luminescence of the alien variety.
“Damn! I hoped that part was a dream,” I muttered out loud, more to calm my nerves than for any particular audience.
“Not a dream, you turd. A bad dream possibly. A nightmare, most definitely.” That voice alone snapped me back from la-la land. My eyes probably bugged halfway out of my head.
“Yeah! I’d be scared if I had to face me too,” he laughed, that grating, familiar, maniacal laugh.
“Well, I see the extra time on this ship hasn’t done much for your personality, Durgan.” I nearly cursed out his name.
“Oh, it’s done plenty, you little pansy. While you were down with your little girly-friends, I was training and fantasizing about this very day. And to be honest, looking at you now, I’m a little disappointed. I have to admit that, at one point, you had me somewhat concerned. Not scared per se, but a little concerned. You looked like a wily and crafty adversary, one that was due a small measure of my admiration. The way you dispatched some of your foes was brilliant. Sheer brilliance. But now I’m not sure you’re even worthy of my attention, even with one prosthetic leg.” Durgan spat the last part out as he hiked up his jeans to show me what appeared to be something more out of ’The Terminator’ than anything man made.
“I still do owe you for this little beauty though, even if it is stronger than the origi
nal. Maybe when I’m done with you, the aliens will piece back together whatever is left and I can keep you as a pet.” He laughed again.
“Listen, you ape…” I wasn’t sure if this was the right approach, especially considering I was drugged and tied down, but the dude was starting to piss me off. "I have no clue what you are even talking about. And to be honest, I’m not sure that even you know.”
Durgan was leaning against what appeared to be a desk but from my limited vantage point, this was not clearly discernible. What was clear was Durgan cleaning his fingernails with a six-inch curved blade. That appeared to be much more important to him than anything I said. He looked up after he finished his task. A deranged grin spread from ear to ear.
“Well, I’m here to tell you, old buddy.” As he stood up and began walking over to me. I involuntarily tensed up. “Oooh, you are the nervous one, aren’t you.” He started to toss the knife back and forth between hands. I struggled to keep up with the movement, it was damn near impossible. Either he was just too fast or my doped-up perception was for shit. Then he folded the blade up and placed it in his pocket.
“You see, my friend…” he continued as he leaned on me, his hot breath scraping the inside of my nostrils. “One week from tonight you and me are going to dance. Only this dance is going to be unlike any other. Me and you are going to have the largest audience of all time. So you had better make this last. If you go and die on me in the first minute or two, I’m going to be really pissed.”
“Yeah? How do you think that’s going to make me feel?” He stood up, and this time, true laughter came out. Perhaps it was something closer to who the original Durgan had once been. But it was short-lived.
“You’re a funny man, Talbot, and I’m going to enjoy ripping that funny right out of your neck,” he said as calmly as if he were telling me about the weather forecast. “Don’t embarrass me out there! If you fall to your knees and just start begging for your life, I guarantee I’ll take my sweet ass time slicing and dicing you in front of your adoring fans.”
