by Kirk Allmond
“Holy shit, mate! I told you we could do it,” said the shorter one. His accent told Victor he was from somewhere in England.
“Christ, man,” said the other. “Nothing could have survived that!”
“My friend was in the middle of that,” said Victor angrily as he got to his feet again.
“Not anymore, mate,” said the first one.
-----
After the soldier’s neck had snapped, Kris’ vision returned, and she limped away from the dead man, beginning the trek down the road and away from the battle. Behind her, there were more men running after her. Her back was turned to all of them, but she kept her ears open. Alicia was off in the trees, chasing down one of the sharpshooters. She was injured but alive. Kris felt the remaining soldiers inside her mind; each one was unique, different, and only doing their job. But this had to end.
She turned around and extended her hands toward them. In her palms, Kris was growing her sphere. “Enough!” she shouted as she threw the bubble towards them. As it passed through the air, Kris made the dome expand further and further until it covered as much of the field as she could manage. Kris’ last word, all of the gunfire, shouts, and crunches of grass and every single sound that was created was now trapped inside the dome and rapidly reverberating off the walls.
Suddenly, the entire area outside was blissfully silent as all of the sound was contained in the dome.
Kris felt cold as she watched the two hundred men trapped inside the dome sink to their knees, their bodies shaking and convulsing on the ground. Even the slightest whisper inside the dome would reverberate and amplify every time the sound waves bounced off the inside of her shield. She held the dome until there wasn’t anything left before she collapsed it onto itself. Off to her right, she heard the soft whump of a teleporter, and Kris flinched, expecting the worst. Her mind and body were almost completely drained. She wouldn’t be able to withstand another attack.
A familiar hand was placed on her back, and Kris looked over her shoulder. It was Alicia. They smiled gently at each other but never said a word.
-----
Looking at the burning flames, Victor felt oddly hollow. He felt like he should be sad, but there wasn’t time; all he felt was rage. He limped the fifty yards to where Marshall lay on his back with his legs pinned under him. He looked as if he’d landed on his knees and fallen over backwards. Vic heaved his brother over onto his side and unfolded his legs. “Marshall! Marshall!” he yelled, panic heavy in his voice.
Marshall coughed once and opened his eyes. “I think...did someone throw a truck at me?” he asked.
“Two teleporters made it appear way above the stage. It hit Leo. I can’t see her aura anywhere,” Victor said. He looked up, scanning the area. Lightfoot was limping towards the road behind where the stands had been. “I’m going for Lightfoot. John’s over in the trees with Reggie. Find Max and the girls. He’s on the far side of the stage. You won’t see him, but tell him Daddy said ‘Green Giraffe.’ That’s our code that he should go with you. I’ll catch up; Lightfoot has to pay for this.”
Victor ran after Lightfoot. His ankle was badly sprained, but he pushed on through the pain of running on it. It would heal soon enough, but Lightfoot couldn’t be allowed to get away. He pressed, running faster, his ankle screaming every time he forced it to bend. He caught the man just a few feet from the road. Victor dove for him, tackling him to the ground. He crawled up onto Lightfoot’s chest and hit him squarely in the nose, crushing it again. Right after left, Victor punched Lightfoot, screaming at him. “You fuck! Do you see what you’ve done! I fucking told you I was going to kill you.” Victor hit him repeatedly until his knuckles bled. Over and over, he continued through broken fingers and knuckles until Lightfoot’s face was a bloody pulp. Both eyes were swollen closed, and still Tookes screamed. “Did you fucking think you would win? What did you hope to accomplish? All these people are dead!” Smashing his face again and again, Lightfoot was having trouble breathing. His nose was mush, filling his throat and mouth with blood, which bubbled as Lightfoot struggled to inhale. “I told you to let us go. I’m trying to do something good. I’m trying to fix this shit, and all you can do is sit here and rape women and try to make your life easy?”
Victor was suddenly knocked off Lightfoot. He had not seen the men coming up from the road. One of them had kicked him so hard he was lifted off Lightfoot and thrown to the ground. Tookes leaped to his feet, feeling blood run down his chin from his shattered nose, and found himself surrounded by two dozen men. Vic reached up and straightened his nose, sending jolts of pain through his face. The men watched, fear crossing each of their faces. Victor’s eyes were death. His armor sprung up around him, and he launched himself at the nearest one, paying no attention to what the man was thinking. Victor drove his fist into the soldier’s eye socket before turning to the next soldier beside him. Vic grabbed the next man’s trigger hand with one hand and drove the barrel of the rifle into his first opponent’s chest with the other. Vic squeezed his hand, forcing the man to fire the rifle into his comrade, blowing a large hole into his chest.
Tookes tried to yank the rifle out of the man’s grasp, but it was connected to a chest harness. Vic shoved it backwards, driving the butt of the rifle into the soldier’s face as he grabbed for the soldier’s knife. As the soldier fell backwards, tenuously balanced by the strap connected to the rifle Victor was holding, Vic drew the knife and sliced the harness. The man fell, and Victor threw the knife at the next man in the crowd, embedding it in his thigh.
Two men grabbed Tookes from behind as he was reversing the rifle. He let the strength go out of his legs, falling to his back, and fired upwards into the two soldiers’ chins before he rolled over onto his side. He thumbed the rifle to full auto and emptied the magazine into the soldiers around him. The last soldier turned and ran as the rifle clicked dry.
Victor grabbed two magazines out of a dead soldier’s mag pouch, swapped a fresh one in, charged the rifle, and shot the man in the back of the head as he ran. He emptied the rest of that magazine into Lightfoot’s corpse, riddling it with holes. He saved the last two bullets for the general’s head, just in case a zombie got to him in time to turn him. Lightfoot had no brain left for them to take control of.
He walked towards the two teleporters, who were still standing there watching the destruction they had caused. They both looked at him, their heads turning in unison. Victor made it two steps closer before the English one put his hand on the other’s shoulder, and the two of them disappeared.
-----
The fire at the bleachers continued to burn, and Kris looked over to the flames. The truck had blown most of the stand apart, but it looked like the fire was going to spread unless someone put it out. Using Alicia for support, the women made their way over to the stand. Using the last of her energy, Kris created a sphere around the fire, cutting off any external supply of oxygen. As the fire diminished, Kris closed the dome in tighter and tighter until the fire was nothing but embers.
“What a fucking mess,” Kris murmured, shaking her head. Pure curiosity led her to get closer to the remains. Out of the corner of her eye, Kris thought she saw the familiar shape of a kukri in the hand of a fallen soldier. She tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. It was an odd weapon of choice, and Kris took another step closer and was taken over by shock. The knife didn’t belong to one of the soldiers. The owner of the knife was Leo. Her head was tilted to the side, but Kris knew that it was her.
“Oh God, no. No, Leo, no!” Kris cried and threw herself to the ground. She began to dig around her body, trying to pull her out from underneath a large beam from the bleachers. The Aussie was trapped under a sheet of metal so large that Kris and Alicia couldn’t move it. Leo’s body was charred and mangled, and with hopeless tears in her eyes, Kris checked her pulse but did not feel a single beat. Leo was gone.
“Fuck!” Kris shouted, pounding her fists against the ground. Tears fell from her eyes as she shook her head.
“Why her? Why did any of this happen? I don’t get it, Alicia. I just...” Alicia sank to the ground next to Kris, and with her uninjured arm, she pulled Kris into a close embrace. They sat there together for a few minutes before Kris remembered why they were here.
“Tookes,” she whispered. Closing her eyes, she found the trail of his aura. Leaning on Alicia, the pair of women limped the last few yards towards him.
-----
A huge canvas backed truck bounced up over the curb, tires squealing as it made the turn onto the parade grounds. Victor leveled the rifle at the driver’s side, but there was no one in the truck. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, Renee appeared in the seat frantically waving her hands. She stopped the truck right beside Victor and hopped out as Reggie and the kids stepped out of the trees heading for the troop transporter. Marshall was a step behind them, holding John’s unconscious form in his arms.
Renee surveyed the area and said softly, “Holy shit, Vern! What did you do?!”
Chapter 24
Escape
“We did what we had to, Ren,” Victor said.
“Daddy!” Max shouted, running towards his father.
“Max-monster!” Tookes scooped Max up into his arms and held him close. One of his hands was against Max’s back, and the other one rested gently against the back of his head. “I was so worried about you,” he said softly.
“I hid everyone, just like you want me to! I just thought real hard about being grass, and they couldn’t see us,” the boy said, moving back from his father. He was excitedly jumping up and down as he explained what had happened.
“Nice work, Max! I’m so proud of you,” Vic said with a small smile. He tenderly kissed the crown of Max’s hair, thankful that, once again, his son stayed out of harm’s way. Glancing up from Max, Victor made eye contact with Reggie. “Thank you,” he mouthed before drawing his son in close once more. Reggie smiled and nodded in response.
“‘What we had to?’” Renee echoed her brother. “I don’t think I like the sound of that,” she replied carefully, jumping out of the driver’s seat. “Now, where are my girls?”
“Mommy!” the girls shouted in unison and ran over to Renee.
“I was so scared, Mommy,” Maya said, nuzzling her face against Renee’s neck. “But Max was so brave!”
“I was scared too, Mymy,” Renee said, holding her daughters. “Was Max brave like a lion?” She roared softly to make her point.
“Yes!” Holly said, giggling. She brought one of her small hands up to her mouth and smiled broadly.
“I hate to interrupt the reunion, but we need to move, guys,” said Marshall, climbing up into the back of the transport truck. The back of the truck sagged slightly under the big man’s weight. Carefully, Marshall laid John down on the floor of the truck, keeping his head elevated. “There are more of them coming, and this truck isn’t very fast.”
“We’ll still have to get off the base,” Tookes said.
Renee said, “The gate coming in is secured by a bunch of cannons and huge barricades, and I don’t know of another way out.”
“Well, since we seem to specialize in ‘no-win-situations,’ that shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” Kris called from behind them. She was leaning heavily on Alicia, blood running down her leg.
“Kris, do you ever have anything positive to say?” asked Victor.
She smirked. “Occasionally. Do you ever do anything that isn’t at least partly insane?” Kris replied with her eyebrow raised.
“That depends on how you define insane,” said Marshall. “We always seem to do okay. We did the right thing here, Kris.”
“I know,” she said with a smile. “You always do.”
“Thank you for coming back to help,” said Victor. “It would have been much uglier without you and your particular talents.”
“Ain’t no thing.” She shrugged. “You would have done the same for me.”
“I’d like to avoid the main gate,” Tookes said. “Now that Lightfoot is dead, I’d much rather not kill any more humans.” The rest of the group agreed.
Alicia helped Victor lift the children into the back of the truck before pulling herself up into the truck bed, joining Kris on the bench on the left.
“We won’t need to worry about those fu--” Kris caught herself before she finished the word. She was trying to be mindful of the children before she continued, “...jerks from the field catching up to us,” Kris said.
“Why not?” Marshall asked.
Kris made an explosive gesture with her hands and said, “Boom.”
“I’m not worried about them anyway,” Victor said from the front of the truck. “It’s the other guys we need to worry about.” He paused before calling out. “Ren?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s move.”
Renee stepped on the gas, and the truck took off. She drove around the wreckage of the grandstand and bounced back on the road. It was around 8pm, and even though it was Texas, there was still a definite chill in the air. The children were all snuggled close together on the floor of the truck, and the rest of the group had their arms wrapped around their bodies, trying to keep warm. The ground was dry, and as they rolled over endless rocks and gravel, a cloud of dust followed them. Trees lined the road in small, tight clusters with shrubs peppering the rest of the open space. The greenery in the area seemed to be few and far between, and what did grow was short and rather spiny.
“Ren!” Vic called up towards the cab of the truck. “How much of this truck do you think you could hide?”
“You mean make it invisible? I don’t know. Maybe the cab but not for very long.”
“I could probably do the other half,” Alicia offered.
“All right, that’s our plan,” said Victor.
As the truck rounded the corner to the gate, one of the garage bays was open on both sides. It looked like some of the men had taken their chances and fled, leaving the bay doors open behind them. “Now,” Victor sent to Alicia and Renee.
The two women focused on the truck and the surrounding air, pushing their invisibility onto it. A moment later, the truck vanished. For good measure, Kris threw an inverted dome around the truck, masking any sound that it would make. The only thing that could be seen was a small trail of dust that flew up behind the truck as they drove.
Three men running through the garage looked up at the swirls of dust flowing through the garage but didn’t think anything of it; both doors were open, and there was a good breeze outside. The first man hit the button to close the outer door, just seconds after the group passed through it.
Now that the comfortable “soldier's life” had been shattered in Fort Hood, Victor briefly wondered how the survivors would fare without Lightfoot as their leader. He then realized that he didn’t care. They were all complicit in this; it was every soldier’s duty to disobey unlawful orders. It was even more important now, without the rule of law, that each man did what he knew was right and fight for those who could not fight for themselves. When they had forfeited that duty, they had also forfeited their lives.
Alicia was on the edge of the bench, closest to the back of the truck, and was keeping a sharp watch on the world around them. She had never been to Texas before and had no idea what to expect for the terrain this far south. Not knowing every angle of a situation made her uneasy. Next to her, Kris had her face in her palms, and she was breathing slowly, fighting to keep herself centered. It sounded like she was muttering softly to herself. She kept her ears open as the truck tumbled over the gravel.
Marshall was still up by John, trying to mask his concern over the Aussie still being unconscious. His brother was sitting next to him, taking a look at John’s wounds. They were healing, but it was proving to be a very slow process for a super-human. Even though the group had no ammo, having John awake would make Tookes feel much more at ease. He never could bear the thought of his friends getting hurt, especially if it could have been completely avoided.
&n
bsp; Leo, thought Victor.
“Leo! Shit, we didn’t check for her,” he said aloud.
The truck was silent. Alicia and Kris glanced at each other before Kris finally spoke. “Tookes, we saw her. In the bleachers. I put the fire out from that truck, and she was...” She shook her head and lowered her eyes away from his. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“No, she can’t be dead. She...she was faster than anything I’ve ever seen. How did she...how did it hit her? She could have gotten away. She should have gotten away.” Victor’s eyes were red, and he was struggling to find words. He blinked several times. “She can’t be dead.”
Kris bit her bottom lip, her brow furrowed. “We checked. She just...I don’t know what happened. We tried to pull her out from the bleachers, but it was too heavy. She was gone by the time we got there.” She paused and looked up.
“I’m...so sorry,” she said again.
“Daddy,” Max said, breaking the silence, “she’s with Mommy now. Well, not really with Mommy. But sort of.” The little boy shrugged then looked at his father and without moving his lips said, “I can’t talk to her like I can talk to Mom, but she says Leo’s going to be okay.”
That knowledge didn’t make Victor feel better, and he shifted uncomfortably against the bench seat.
“Tookes, we’re about to have company. If we’re going to make an exit, we need to do it now,” Kris suddenly said.
“How many?” he asked, peeking out the back canvas.
She was quiet for a moment. “I count about fifteen men and four trucks three hundred yards up and more coming behind them. It’s going to be a hell of a party when the other guys show up.”
“The other guys?” Marshall asked.
“Yeah. One of them’s a big some bitch. All of that power we used got the attention of our undead friends.”
