“Shut it off, Vala. I’ve seen enough.” Michael paced back and forth.
“What’d Keith say?”
“First thing he said was that the government was blaming this on the Russians, but it’s that creature Keith told us about. Apparently, they struck a bad deal, and the military tried to capture it.”
“Capture the alien?”
“Yeah, long story short, the US Army was decimated in New Mexico, and now the alien’s in Arizona. The Army lost nearly three hundred tanks and several thousand soldiers.”
“Oh, my God,” Vala said.
“See, everyone wants more magic, and they don’t care how they get it,” Iris said, dropping down to sit Indian style.
Vala glanced over at Michael. “So, what now?”
“We’re going to Minnesota. Keith’s wife, her father died and has a big ranch up there. We’re going to meet up. Lucas and Garza are already there, and they have the artifact.”
“Wait, what? Why can’t they just give it back to the creature? What’s the problem?” Vala demanded.
“Apparently, they can’t turn it on. They need a way to contact the creature, get it away from the warzone. Keith says I can activate it.” Michael stared down at his hands like it was the first time seeing them, perhaps the notion of his composition setting in. The Cilan’s last words were that Michael’s body was recovered not from alien structures, but from their actual skeletal remains.
“Hold on. Do we know if there a risk to you, activating that machine?” she asked.
“I honestly don’t know.”
Vala rolled her eyes and sighed. “Okay, back up a second. We’re driving to Minnesota to activate a machine, but we have no idea what it will do to you, and then we’re handing it over to an alien that’s killing millions of people?”
“Keith says I can activate it. They need me,” he said.
“Oh, so now we’re trusting Keith? You get a chance to pitch in against the world threat and we start trusting people?” she asked.
“Stakes are high. You know this isn’t ego, why even bring that up?”
“Ego? That’s not what I said or meant, but any chance you get to fall on your sword, you’ll take it. That’s just who you are, I guess. You don’t know what that artifact will do to you when you turn it on, or us, but my point is, why are you so willing to risk us at the drop of a hat? Is it soldier’s loyalty, duty?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Well, did you ever think to ask me what I thought here? I can tell you’ve made your mind up. Ready to heed the call,” she said.
“The point is, there’s no other option,” Michael said.
Iris covered her ears and rolled her eyes. “Really? I want you think about all those nights I waited up for you before you went missing. How I felt when I laid down in that machine while it burned my body, my eyes. And I would do it again, no complaints. I did that for a chance to be with you again, that’s it. What you did, for me, all the pain, the recovery so we could be together, let someone else carry the torch, Mike. Why does it have to be you?”
“I’m not sure how much clearer I need to be. We have to set aside everything for the greater good. I don’t like it. I hate this!” he shouted, instantly regretting his aggressive tone.
“See, you’ve got something in your blood, a conviction that tells you to do the right thing no matter the cost, no matter the pain and blood that leads us to where we are,” she said.
Michael threw up his hands. “We’re at risk constantly, anyway. Did you forget how many times we’ve been shot at in the last several months? Why not do this? It could be for all the marbles, anyway.” He slumped his head.
“Stop. You heard the Cilan, we’re in the clear, they’re not sending anymore mercenaries,” she replied.
“Supposedly. We don’t know that for sure.”
“Just stop with the nonsense, please. If you’re doing it, we go together. We’ve been over this.” She put her hands over her face.
Vala began to weep softly as Michael closed the distance, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He held her for a few moments, and she began to weep louder, letting it out. “For so long, I-I just wanted us to have some peace in our lives. That’s it. And here we go again, throwing ourselves back into the fray just when it looked like we might have some breathing room.”
“I know. Believe me, that’s all I want, too. We’ll have our time, we’ve earned it, but this is something we have to address. If we don’t, there might not be an us, anyway.”
“I wanna go!” Iris stood up clapping her hands and jumping up and down.
Michael shook his head at Vala. “We can’t take her,” he whispered. Vala looked at Iris, faking a smile.
Chapter Eight
“You’re bringing that thing, here?” Mia demanded. Keith stood in front of the window with hands on his hips. Much of the snow had melted, soaking the ground like a messy slush of dirt of water.
“Yes, hunny. This is a very unique situation. You’ve seen the news.”
“I know, but isn’t there some secret hideout you guys can go to other than Dad’s ranch?”
“We’re fresh out of secret hideouts. Lucas only had one and, apparently, it wasn’t so secret.”
“This is awfully close to home, Keith. I saw what it did on the news. If that thing goes crazy here, we’ll lose the town, our home. We don’t have an army or air force here.”
“Not that it would matter,” Keith mumbled. “The good thing is its twenty-seven miles away from our town. Hopefully, if things go bad, it’ll be too boring to draw its attention. Maybe it’ll just leave here and go after some larger city.” Keith Said.
“Hopefully? Oh, my God!” Mia paced back and forth, pulling her hair back. She sighed loudly, staring at the ceiling. “I knew, I just knew when I married you that you had baggage. You told me about it, but this is insane,” she said.
“Can’t say I saw this coming,” Keith replied.
She stopped on a dime, staring a hole through him. “Did you turn on the news this morning?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Did you watch it in augmented reality?” she asked.
“Not yet. I need to get my mind ready to see it.”
“What’s the toll up to now?”
“About six hundred thousand dead.” Keith walked toward the couch and plopped down. “Trillions in damage in Arizona and New Mexico.”
“That’s my issue. When you activate this device, what happens to the areas in-between, on its way up here? It just plows through all those states?” she asked.
“I’m hoping not. It’ll probably get here in minutes, if I were to guess, maybe even seconds,” he replied.
“Okay, I’m just a high school history teacher so explain this to me. Your ECHO, how can you be certain he can activate the device?”
“Because I translated the instructions when I worked for Lucas after the ECHO project.”
“But he’s never turned it on?”
“No, but I did. I used the exact materials Michael is made of. On accident, I built a makeshift glove using some of the materials we had recovered.”
“Wait, you turned it on, Keith? Why?”
“I was tasked by Lucas to see what the machine was capable of. I had no idea, until we had a power surge at the facilities, that all the systems went haywire and it was on less than a second. I quickly shut it down so most everyone at Lucas’ thought it was a freak power failure. There was an investigation, but I kept my mouth shut.”
Mia’s eyes opened wide. “Wait, so you’re saying all this is because of your accident?” She gestured outside.
“Well, yeah, if you want to look it at that way, it’s probably my fault.” Keith stared a thousand miles away.
Mia stepped close to him. “No, no, I’m not going there. If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else though, eventually.” She comforted him.
Keith opened a small container on his coffee table. “Maybe.”
“W
hat are you doing?” she asked.
He began to insert a set of contact lenses. “I’m going in, to see it for myself.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I want to see what we’re up against, Mia. Just for a few minutes,” Keith said
“This is dangerous, Keith. People have heart attacks watching these,” she said.
“HoloFeed, boot up BBC live, war correspondent ground level,” he directed as a set of four lights on each wall flickered.
“I don’t want to be around you while this is going on. I’ll be upstairs,” she said, strapping a wristband around him and stepping away.
“Hey!” He glanced down.
“I can’t stop you, but don’t you dare take that wristband off. At least I can monitor your vitals from my phone. I don’t trust those things, Keith, you know that. It’s too real!”
Keith dipped his head for a moment as a menu screen appeared in front of him. “I have to see it,” he whispered.
“You’re stubborn.” She stormed off.
“WARNING – WARNING - KEITH SANDERS, THE VIDEO YOU ARE ABOUT TO VIEW COULD CONTAIN CONTENT NOT SUITABLE FOR YOUNGER VIEWERS. THIS FEED IS A LIVE PROJECTION OF THE BATTLEFIELD MOUNTED TO A WAR REPORTER’S HELMET.
THE IMAGES COULD POTENTIALLY RESULT IN INJURY OR DEATH TO YOUR PERSON DUE TO YOUR BRAIN’S INABILITY TO DISCERN A REAL THREAT FROM A DISTANT THREAT.
PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT BY CONFIRMING THIS VOICE ACTIVITATION PROMPT WITH AN ANSWER OF ‘YES’ YOU FULLY ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY TO ANY INJURIES THAT MIGHT OCCUR. DO YOU WISH TO PROCEED?” The computer prompted.
“Um, yes,” Keith said, standing, placing a set of headphones over his ears.
“VOICE RECOGNITION CONFIRMED - TRANSPORTING TO PHOENIX, ARIZONA. WAR REPORTER MATTHEW J. LANG, BBC.
3…
2…
1…
Keith’s living room began to transform into a mass of fuzzy pixilation as the virtual reality feed booted up. It crept down the ceiling and walls like digitalized virus until the entire room was unrecognizable. The appearance was similar to the static on a TV channel with no signal. The image began to stabilize as audio chimed in first when a group of hybrid diesel engines were heard idling. “Watch out for the civilians!” A soldier yelled.
The image loaded into a crystal clear 1to1 feed of a tank battalion moving down interstate 10, navigating through a line of abandoned cars. Above were two sets of sky loops, frictionless electromagnetic levitating tunnels that tubes travel a blistering five hundred miles an hour.
It was eerily silent, absent of horns blowing and tires searing across the hot asphalt. Keith turned back, observing a column of about four hundred tanks behind him, then up and down as helicopters and drones flittered high in the atmosphere. “Oh, my god,” he said.
Keith’s perspective was riding atop one of the tanks as it pushed forward. He was in the assault.
“For those of you just joining us, not ten miles from here, that way, is ground zero!” Lang yelled in an Aussie accent, pointing ahead.
Other than the overdeveloped foreground cityscape, the distant imagery was not unlike the oil field burnings of the Iraq war in 1991, flat brown landscapes with plumes of black rolling clouds mixed with fiery orbs. Sparks filled the air as the light breeze wisped them around erratically.
“I can almost smell the fumes,” Keith whispered, flaring his nostrils.
Lang pointed to the fires. “The Russian drone seems to be attacking military and industrial sites—”
“Russians? Is that really the best they can come up with?” Keith mumbled.
“The 1st Army is confident we can keep it out of the city. They’ve been firing plasma artillery and tank volleys with some degree of effectiveness but, shockingly, it seems that old fashion projectiles, bullets, shells, artillery are the only ammunition that slow the drone. Some speculate the reason is the impact from older weapons could be why so they’re going with that,” Lang explained.
“Isn’t that the plan, Sergeant Tiller?” Lang asked the tanker to his right with the hatch open.
Keith panned over the sergeant, staring out into the blackness. He was a mid-twenties black man, wearing tinted googles that betrayed his distant gaze. He was chewing gum slowly with his forearm rested on the top mounted machine gun. “Yeah, I guess,” he replied in a dismissive tone.
“You were with one of the tanks battalions just as it entered Arizona. What can you tell us about it? It seems its motives are purely destructive with no demands,” Lang asked.
Tiller scratched his cheek and shook his, then turned his back to the reporter. Lang took the microphone away from Tiller. “As you can see, morale is a bit shaken. These men have lost an unbelievable amount in just a few hours.” Lang leaned away from Tiller, lowering his voice.
Lang’s tank stopped as the tanker ahead of them gestured ahead. “Watch your fire!” he yelled.
A mob of civilians ran alongside the freeway. Most of them were covered in sweat from 101 degree heat, some were holding children. One Hispanic lady in tears held a toddler that appeared deceased or unconscious. A man beside her attempted to help her along, but she refused, batting him away with her arms.
“Help us! W-we got lots of children, women here.” A desperate middle-aged man in business casual broke off from the group.
The lead tanker ignored his request, glaring straight ahead. “Stand to the side of the freeway, sir. Form a single file line. We have to put these tanks between you and it! That’s my job! And the quicker we can get around you, the better!” he yelled. The tanks eased into the emergency lane between the mob and the traffic jam of abandoned cars. The line of people ahead seemed to stretch for miles. Some of them splintered from the group in panic while others stayed inside their cars with the air conditioning.
“Geez, get out of your cars, people,” Keith said.
“Target left!” the leader tank’s spotter yelled. The tank’s turret swiveled as Keith peered into the blackness.
“Uh oh,” Lang said, focusing on deep breaths.
“Where?” another tank gunner shouted.
Suddenly, the Omega darted through the smoke. It floated through the air. “There!” Several tanks fired at once, shaking the ground and ejecting dust particles into the air. People near the tank screamed, holding their ears as some were knocked down by the shockwave from the tank’s discharge. A human stampede erupted as the formation of stragglers scattered into a panic. Several people were knocked over and trampled in their terror.
The Omega burst back and forth, strafing through the landscape as 120mm tank rounds zipped all around it. One round was a direct hit on the Omega but a spider web of red electricity absorbed the blast. The kinetic force from the impact spun the Omega completely around, knocking it down.
It quickly rose, using its tentacles to spring from the ground at it approached the mass of people. It stopped, tilting its head toward the panicking pack of civilians. Its metallic headdress began to pulse red as the people were lifted from the ground, thousands of them shrieking in terror as they were pulled toward the Omega’s telekinetic grasp. They swirled through the air as if a tornado sucked them in.
The Omega's spiny fingers curled in as the mass of people were pulled toward him. It appeared as if he had full control of each individual’s independent trajectory. “H-hold your fire!” the lead tanker yelled, but the order seemed to go unheard in the panic.
As tank rounds lobbed toward the Omega, it packed the crowd of bodies together tight. The sound of a million of bones snapping rang out as it created a shield of flesh and bone thirty feet thick and four dozen feet tall. One round impacted near the center as a giant plume of red mist misted the air.
Two gunships helicopters dove north of the tank battalion. The gunships unloaded dozens of rockets as the Omega swatted the projectiles away with its human shield. Both helicopters immediately gained altitude after dumping their payloads, one of them dipping too low.
The Omega gest
ured its free hand toward the gunship, twisting its wrist. The pilot was ripped through the cockpit glass. The chopper’s on board artificial intelligence took over, gaining as much altitude as possible. The Omega closed its fist, then opened its hand, slinging the pilot at a hundred miles an hour into the chopper, destroy one of the blades. The gunship quickly dropped altitude and crashed into an apartment building in fiery blaze.
“My God,” Keith said.
The Omega began to alter its shield of flesh and bone. It morphed into a long spear-like object nearly three hundred feet long. The spear hovered above the Omega, bouncing up and down, aimed down at the thanks.
The Omega seemed to squeeze the spear using his mind. The weapon vibrated, creating the sound of a thousand screeching car brakes. Soft organic tissue and blood oozed from the weapon, creating a more dense, bony projectile.
“No, no, no, no!” Lang yelled.
The Omega flicked its finger as the massive human javelin of bone crashed into the tank next to Lang, exploding on impact. The force blasted Lang off his tank. He tumbled along the ground as automated stabilizers blurred the virtual reality projection to prevent Keith from getting nauseated.
Lang peered toward the tank. Nothing was nothing left of the it except a giant mass of burning scrap. Dust filled the air, making it impossible to see more than seventy feet. Keith began to pant as silence ensured. There were no more tanks firing, soldiers or civilians yelling, just the sound of dust whirling around him.
A cyclone of debris and dirt engulfed Lang. “If anyone is still tuning in, it-it appears the creature is creating some type of vortex!” Lang yelled over the howling winds.
He covered his eyes from all the debris as it pelted him. “Aargh. It seems I’ve misplaced my googles, and my right leg appears to be broken, but I’ll transmit the feed as long as possible,” he said as the chaotic winds intensified, sucking up small scraps from the tank.
Lang was in the eye of the cyclone, and it was anything but calm. He was unable to see anything outside of the brown wall of wind that surrounded him. Just ahead, two glowing red orbs peeked through the column of dust. Lang scooted backward as the Omega’s tentacles poked through, unaffected by the violent winds.
Symphony of Descension Page 10
