Rise | Book 3 | Reclamation

by Ford, Devon C.

  He didn’t know if they were winning or not, because some of the alien fleet had turned around and landed far enough to continue out of Big Ben’s range. A couple of them had learned that his reach was quite impressive the hard way.

  Jack tried to do the math and estimated there were at least eight hundred ground troops in total left, with around five hundred here in the valley, three standing in a line behind as he viewed them through the weapon’s digital scope. What were they waiting for?

  He picked up his radio, pressing it to speak. “Sylvie, Mason… do you have eyes on the edge of the valley? They’re congregating there, and I don’t like it. They’re outta my range.”

  Mason replied, “I see them. I…”

  The radio went silent, and Jack’s eyes lifted to the sky in the distance. More ships were coming. At least ten of them hurled through the air toward their defensive position. They needed to fight this battle on the ground, not in the sky where the aliens had the advantage.

  “Send everything we have left into the fray. Lure them here by any means necessary!” Jack shouted into the radio, knowing full well many of his men and women would be sacrificed to ensure this happened.

  “Yes, sir.” Daniel’s voice said crisply through the speaker, and another few people acknowledged his order. Two of their ships along with a few hovercars rose into the air from on top of the mountain range and barreled above Jack, moving for the incoming fleet.

  Jack thought about his wife Ava, and their sweet little boy, Benji, and smiled as he prepared for the final attack.

  Dex

  They crashed hard into the snow drift. One second he was pressed against the ceiling, watching the ground approaching through the viewscreen, the next he was crashing against the ground, the entire screen filled with white powdery flakes.

  The group inside the cockpit groaned collectively; the lights flashed on and off before settling to dark.

  “Everyone okay?” Dex asked, and received more grunts in response. “Marisol?”

  He found her behind the pilot’s seat, shaking her head. Blood dripped from a cut on her forehead, and it was bleeding profusely. He tore a piece off his shirt and pressed it to her head.

  “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up,” she told him.

  The large form of Yas arrived, barely more than a shadow in the dimly lit cockpit. “We need to help them out there.” He held a rifle in his hand, making the long weapon seem like a toy.

  “Get the drones activated,” Dex said, helping Marisol to her feet.

  Becca’s head was tilted to the side, and Dex walked to her, reaching for her wrist. He felt for a pulse, and it was there, but faint. “We leave her here for now. Retrieve her after the battle.”

  Their group moved for the corridor, landing at the storage room where Tyrone was already using his tablet to control the drones. The hull of the ship spread wide, and the Seekers lifted from their perches on the shelving units. The Trackers used the lower exit, filing out in a series of whirring and clattering footsteps.

  Dex hated the things but was okay with the robots as long as they were working on his team. Cold air burst through the opening, and Yas handed out some jackets made of animal pelt. “These will keep you warm.”

  Dex helped Marisol before sliding the jacket over his shoulders. He took the lead, rushing from the same exit the Trackers had moved through. The ramp would be buried under snow, and this opening took him onto the side of the ship as it lay at an odd angle in the crashed position.

  He took stock of the situation, seeing their drones rushing to the aid of their brethren near the horde of Overseers a few hundred yards in the distance. “That’ll keep them moving for the trap,” Dex said, blocking the bright sun from his eyes with a hand.

  Marisol nodded, holding up a gun in her grip. “Time to join them.”

  Dex climbed down the exterior of the alien vessel, and dropped into the snow. He ran toward the enemy, wondering what the hell he was going to do when he arrived.

  Sylvie

  The plan was working. After the first twenty minutes, she’d thought things had turned for the worst possible outcome, but with the arrival of the new group, that Jack had apparently accidentally shot down with his behemoth weapon, the tides had shifted in their favor.

  Sylvie heard Maxime breathing nearby, and she glanced at the younger man. He’d started this entire journey with little experience, but with a proficient trigger finger. Now she was so grateful to have him at her side as she waited for the aliens to pass into her target zone.

  Through her scope, she witnessed the ensuing battle. On the ground, the five hundred Overseers had quickly shrunk to around half of that as the Trackers tore through their ranks. There was something oddly satisfying at seeing the aliens’ own technology being used against them, their own ships, their drones… it had allowed the humans to fight back.

  Maxime whistled softly, like a bird, and she returned her attention to the marker on the powdery ground. Some of the aliens had passed through the Trackers’ assault, and now they were easy targets. Sylvie’s finger touched the trigger, the echoing blast careering through the valley. The mark fell as the chest-shot did its work.

  Sylvie didn’t wait to see if he recovered. Max took another out, and now there were more pressing through, all of them scrambling, searching for the location of the shooter. She shot another, but was confident there was no way they’d be able to hit them all.

  She remained calm, reaching for the radio, speaking the English words she’d been trained to use at this point of the day. “Mason. Next stage.”

  Sylvie saw Max down another target, and she reloaded, moving the barrel just enough to sight another alien.

  Alec

  “We’re going to do this!” Alec shouted to Izzy as they ran toward their final trap. Another row of Trackers cleverly hid nearby, just across from their dug-out trench, and Alec waved a group of twenty Barony soldiers forward with them.

  The mountain ridge had turned to hills here, and they crouched behind one, this their planned last point of attack. The sporadic sound of sniper rifles blasted out every once in a while, and it was nice knowing someone was watching their backs from above the mountainside.

  The ships that had arrived a few minutes ago were being baited to follow Whittaker and the other pilot, but only five of them broke past the other line of aliens, the ones past Jack’s range. The Barony leader was on it, moving his giant weapon and firing it toward the incoming vessels.

  He struck one, and it hurtled to the edge of the valley, exploding on impact. The alien crafts were coming in hot, and Alec saw what they were planning. “Jack,” he whispered from his hiding spot behind the rocky wall. “They’re going for Big Ben. You have to abandon…”

  The weapon fired again, clipping one of the vessels, and Alec cringed as it continued. The lead ship dropped a bomb, the detonation shaking the ground all the way up the mountainside. Another bomb fell from the flanking alien craft, and another. Jack managed to hit two of the ships, but not before the damage was done. The snow higher up the mountain began to rumble and shift, rolling down toward the weapon Jack controlled.

  Izzy clutched his arm, gaping at the avalanche as it poured over the ridges, barreled over trees, snapping them like twigs. “Jack! Get out of there!” Alec didn’t remain quiet this time but saw the fire erupting from Big Ben as it decimated the last target, the fifth alien vessel exploding into a million pieces directly above the weapon. The snow encapsulated it, knocking the device over, and the entire ground reverberated.

  Alec peered over his shoulder, hoping the avalanche was restricted to that edge of the valley only, and saw nothing to indicate Sylvie and Maxime were about to be bowled over. That was the small piece of good news. Jack and their best defensive tool were lost.

  He didn’t have time to mourn the man. If he survived this, then he’d pay his respects. Alec stared above the rocky hillside to spot the incoming ground troops. These aliens were even more imposing than before, a
nd he froze at seeing their broad shoulders, their sneering thin lips, and exposed sharp teeth. These were soldiers, dressed in light grey uniforms, their weapons charged and glowing near the triggers.

  Izzy smiled beside him, and for a moment, he couldn’t imagine why. Then he recalled their trap, and noticed they were still ten yards from reaching it. The group of fifty appeared to be all that was left of the squadron, and another dropped as one of the French snipers continued to fire on the enemy.

  They glanced around, searching for their adversaries they were sure would be at the end of the valley. Alec slowly rose, leaving his gun at his side. He saw the Trackers lifting from their crouched positions, and he knew he needed to be quick. “Over here, you bastards! Why don’t you come and see what happens when you mess with us humans?”

  Izzy stood, along with the other Barony soldiers, waving their guns in the air, and goading the aliens on.

  One of them fired at Alec and struck the man beside him as they rushed forward. The first alien broke through the disguised hole, flailing into the trench below. The others were already moving, their momentum carrying them downward. A few remained above, lucky to not fall for it, and the Trackers made quick work of them. There were at least forty of the aliens inside the opening, firing upwards and making it impossible to get near the ditch.

  Izzy plucked a grenade from her jacket and pulled the pin, tossing it with a well-practiced throw. It exploded seconds later, and the fuel soaked into the bottom of the trench caught fire. The screaming of the Overseers did little to please Alec as he watched the hole smoke and burn. A few tried to climb over the others, but their team made quick work of anyone scrambling to escape.

  Soon the valley grew quiet, and Alec peered through his scope to the distant Overseers beyond. The Barony ships had returned, and they were in a standoff. The leftover vessels rose from the ground, and Alec feared they were coming to finish the humans off. They wouldn’t know that they’d all but decimated the human defense.

  “If only that last batch hadn’t come. We’d have won,” Izzy said.

  “Daniel here. We have another two ships… we… obtained them from the first wave of drop troops,” Daniel said through the radio. He wouldn’t know that Jack had been covered by an avalanche yet. “Jack has one more surprise in store for them.”

  Alec noticed the aliens were directly on top of their previous base, the one Jack had been so quick to vacate as his anticipation of the incoming fleet took hold. There was a reason for it. Alec grinned as he thought about Jack lining the entire camp with explosives. He’d mentioned something about their base going up in a cloud if it came to it, but Alec hadn’t put two and two together until now.

  “We can’t give up,” Alec whispered. He pulled the radio out and sent it to everyone listening. “Get to the skies. Hunt them down with everything we have! This is it. This is what we worked for! Do this for Tom, do this for Jack. Do it for everyone who’s been lost to the Occupation!”

  Dex

  Dex took little comfort in shooting the aliens in the backs, but did so regardless. The last one in their vicinity fell hard to the snow, and seconds later, he was half buried in it. It wasn’t long before the drones had done their jobs, and Dex stood beside Marisol as the valley grew silent. A hovercar arrived from across the mountain range, followed by ten more, along with four giant alien ships. Two were painted with crowns on the side, and Dex raised his Glock as one of the smaller vessels lowered to the ground near them.

  A man waved them over. “Hop in!” he shouted, and they obeyed eagerly. Yas arrived first, clambering over the sides, helping Marisol, then Tyrone, and lastly Dex.

  “We have Becca over there!” Dex shouted over the clunking noise of the engines.

  “No time! We’ll come back for her!” the pilot said in a thick French accent, and they jostled as the hovercar tore into the air. Soon it was harder to breathe, and they raced for the last of the aliens who waited for them a couple of miles down the valley. The Overseers finally began to activate, one of their ships rising loudly from the ground.

  Dex heard the warning from the pilot’s radio before the man seemed to notice it. A very British voice called over the small speaker, difficult to hear against the hovercar’s engines. He grabbed the radio, almost falling over at the movement. He pressed it to his ear, trying to hear the message. “…bombs… one minute…”

  More of the ugly vessels rose, and Dex finally understood his allies' plan. “We need to pin ‘em down. The bombs are about to go off!” Dex didn’t want to be anywhere near the explosion, but he leaned over the glass rail of the hovercar, firing his gun at the closest ship. “Get above them!” he shouted, and the pilot finally listened.

  More chatter broke through the radio, and Dex heard a countdown. There were only a few other human vessels in the air around them, and the aliens were trying to blow through the barrier they’d created. One of their large crafts screamed as it dropped, attempting a lateral movement, but the Barony was there firing a rail gun toward the vessel, keeping it in place. The explosion happened so quickly, and their ship instantly rose, faster than he’d expected from a hovercar.

  The pilot let out a cheer as fire burned through the alien vessels below them, their hulls acting as a shield between their hovercar and the explosions.

  Dex cheered now too as he peered over the edge, seeing the remains of the Overseers’ earth-locked fleet being destroyed. Pieces of the huge vessels fell to the ground, sizzling as they struck the wet snow.

  It was over. The battle at Norway was done, but the war for their planet was still in effect.

  Chapter 33

  Lina

  Shanghai was quiet. She’d expected more aliens, more signs of the Occupation force at such an integral station, but there were no ships near the facility. “Where did they go?”

  “We saw some leaving when we arrived. Maybe something to do with Soares or Alec’s plan,” Monet told her.

  “Cole… do you think…?”

  “I don’t know if they did it, but we have our own task to complete here. Can you focus?” Monet asked, and Lina nodded.

  Lina imagined that Cole had been successful and that they’d be reunited soon so she could finally tell him how she felt about him. She hoped he’d feel the same way, imagining him wrapping his arms around her, of her reaching up to encircle his neck a—

  “Let’s move.”

  Monet slipped from cover with Lina following. She wanted to pause and check the tablet to see if their communications network access was restored, but didn’t have a chance.

  Monet didn’t stop as she led Lina low and fast to the perimeter of the compound where she used a set of snips to cut the strands of the chain-link fence. She clipped it until a small curtain of the metal swung in for them.

  “North edge, one hundred meters from the left corner,” Monet repeated more for herself than for Lina as she mentally worked through the directions to where their inside man should be. “Inside the emergency exit, go right—”

  She stopped talking and sprinted ahead as the automatic search pattern of a bright spot lamp began to cut the ground between the fence and the compound into sections. Lina sped along with her, both of them hitting the external wall of the building with two thumps, one after another.

  The door was locked, but they hadn’t planned on it being open. Monet pulled a flat device about the size of her palm from her pack and slapped it gently against the doorframe before adding another lower down.

  She waited, hearing the sizzling sound and smelling the stench of burning material creeping into her nose, until with a heavy clunk, the door dropped down from the frame and fell outwards to thump hard into the concrete between them.

  They entered, weapons ready, and Lina began to have serious doubts. Their plan was rushed, missing the narrow.

  She followed Monet’s lead, the other woman no longer muttering to herself but seeming to have been overcome by a sense of calm that was robotic and dangerous. Rounding the corner
s, they came face to face with a guard, a human one, who returned their look of shock. His brain finally kicked his body into action and he opened his mouth to shout something, reaching for a weapon holstered on his belt at the same time. His head snapped back as Lina fired, sending him to the ground.

  Another guard rounded the corner of the tight corridor they’d walked onto, shouting as he ran at Lina from behind her. She struggled with the long gun in her hand for a second, unable to turn it around easily due to the clutter of boxes and other abandoned junk, opting instead to let the gun release in her left hand. Her other hand threw back her jacket to draw her sidearm and pop the man three times in the chest and abdomen before he reached her.

  It appalled her how easily, how instinctively she been able to kill another person, but there was no time to dwell on what she’d done.

  A third man hurried toward them, this one much older and thinner and evidently unarmed as his liver-spotted hands were raised up beside his head. He froze, jabbering at them in a language neither understood and bobbing his head almost maniacally, beckoning for them to follow him.

  They trailed after him, casting off their natural air of lurking in the shadows and holding their fire. Two more guards appeared, one rattling off shots from an old automatic rifle before Monet’s calm aim took him in the side of the neck to leave him screaming on the ground as his fingers tried to stem the escaping jets of blood.

  The other hesitated just long enough to find himself staring down the barrel of Lina’s weapon, and acted immediately. As much as her instinct was to act, to save her life, his was just as finely tuned. He dropped the gun instantly, throwing up his hands in surrender to flee before she changed her mind and pulled the trigger.

  The old man leading them stopped, pointing and talking fast. Monet followed the direction of the desperate gestures, seeing a closed door and not breaking step to plant her boot straight through it. The door splintered open so hard, it banged shut and required another, softer kick to reveal what was inside.