Noah Jordan vs. The Aliens

by Tyler Wild

  “Good Lord,” Floyd replied. “What the hell for?”

  “Dunno,” Virgil said. “But fuck that noise. I’d eat a bullet before I’d let those bastards probe me.”

  “Truth,” Floyd agreed. “Well, if you hear anything, let me know. Take care of yourself.”

  “You do the same!”

  I moved into the living room and sat on the couch, thinking about how I was going to occupy my time. There was no doubt that we’d go through Floyd’s selection of movies in no time. He had a few video games, but not many. There was no Internet. No social media. Nothing to burn idle time.

  Combined with the uncertainty about the future, it left me anxious. As nice as the bunker was, day in and day out it would get old. I wondered how long before cabin fever would set in?

  Every time we ventured outside the safety of the bunker, we took our lives our hands. For the most part, we never needed to leave, except to dispose of trash. The bunker likely wouldn’t keep the aliens out if they really wanted to get in. But they’d have to find it first. A cursory glance of the house wouldn’t reveal it. We were relatively safe, and probably could go on like this for some duration of time. Maybe forever?

  “Noah, why don’t you come with me, and I’ll show you where the trash pit is?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  In the back of my mind I couldn’t help but wonder if Floyd knew about my tryst with Madison. Was he upset about it? Was he planning on killing me and throwing me in the dump? He didn’t seem like the type, but the end of the world tends to make one a little paranoid.

  I peeled my butt off the couch and grabbed my plasma rifle. Floyd scanned the security monitors, making sure the area was clear. Floyd and I grabbed the trash, and we left the bunker. We climbed the creaky stairs to the main house.

  We held up at the front door. Floyd pulled back the curtains and peered into the yard, scanning the area. It remained clear. He opened the door, and I stepped on the porch carrying two trash bags, my rifle slung over my shoulder.

  I threw the trash bags on the trailer and climbed onto the ATV. Floyd saddled up and drove us across the property to the trash pits. We disposed of the refuse and covered it with lime. Flies buzzed about, and a rotten stench filled the air. The pit was far from the stream that ran through the property, and it was above the water table to hopefully avoid contaminating the well.

  Floyd gave me a squirt of hand sanitizer, and I slathered it over my hands.

  "I've got stockpiles of this stuff. When it runs out, I've got plenty of soap. And after that, we’ll have to make our own."

  "You've thought of everything."

  "I tried."

  We climbed back onto the ATV.

  "One thing I didn't think of…”

  My face crinkled, trying to think of something he missed.

  “I don't have an endless supply of tampons. That could become a problem here shortly."

  It was something I hadn't thought of.

  "And those girls are gonna start fighting over you before too long."

  "You think?"

  "Trust me. You're the only eligible bachelor for miles. It could get pretty tense around the bunker if you don't find a way to manage that. Especially when Aunt Flow comes to visit.”

  "I'll keep that in mind."

  We headed back toward the house. As we drew near, it became clear that something wasn't right.

  “What the hell is going on?" I mumbled.

  A gunshot rang out, echoing across the landscape. The bullet snapped past my ear.

  Floyd jammed on the brakes and we both dove for cover as more bullets streaked overhead.

  23

  Floyd and I took cover behind the ATV. Bullets pinged off the bodywork. The tires popped as bullets peppered the rubber.

  Floyd grumbled, "Goddamnit! This was brand-new!”

  The engine hissed as a bullet punctured the engine compartment and ruptured the radiator.

  I angled my rifle around the flat rear tire and took aim.

  Three men had taken Skyler hostage. One of the men had a pistol to her head and used her body as a shield. The other two kept a steady stream of bullets headed in our direction.

  I squeezed the trigger and let two shots fly at one of the riflemen. It whizzed past him and exploded the dirt nearby.

  “Back off, or the girl dies!” the man with the pistol to Skyler’s head shouted.

  My stomach twisted in knots. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her.

  Skyler looked terrified. Her face contorted with fear, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Her kidnapper had shaggy blonde hair and a scruffy chin. He was a skinny guy, maybe 6 feet tall. One of his companions had dark hair and the beginnings of a beard. His other accomplice had brown hair, a round face, and was a tad heavyset.

  They pulled Skyler to the road and shoved her into a black pickup truck, then climbed in.

  I held my fire. I didn't want to risk hitting her.

  The doors to the truck slammed shut, and the brown-haired thug hopped into the truck bed. Tires split gravel as it launched onto the highway.

  My body tensed and my jaw tightened. Acid boiled in my veins. I sprang to my feet, chasing after the black truck, but it vanished into the hillside. I ran to the front of the house and hopped into my SUV. I cranked up the engine, and it roared to life.

  I threw the car into reverse, slammed my foot against the floorboard, and tires spun. The vehicle launched backward, and I swung the wheel, making a K-turn.

  My foot slammed the brakes, and the car ground to a halt. I turned the wheel again and dropped it into drive just as Floyd caught up with me. He climbed into the passenger seat, and I punched it as soon as he was in the car. The ass end of the SUV fishtailed, spewing dirt and grass.

  We bounced onto the highway and we chased after the thugs. I kept the pedal hammered to the floor. The tachometer redlined as it shifted gears. The powerful engine growled, and the exhaust rattled as we flew down the road.

  The goons had gotten a hell of a head start, and I could barely see the truck ahead as we barreled through the undulating countryside. We raced past trees, cornfields, cow pastures, and verdant hills. This was a dangerous road. Deer and other wildlife frequently crossed the highway. A pair of antlers through the front windshield would kill us both.

  My foot was like a lead weight. I didn’t let up on the gas for an instant. This SUV was faster, had more horsepower, and had better handling than the crappy truck the kidnappers drove.

  Floyd rolled down the window as we caught up to them. He angled a shotgun out the window and took aim at the truck’s left rear tire.

  The brown haired douche-bag in the truck bed opened fire before we could get too close.

  The windshield webbed with cracks as copper rounds drilled through the tempered glass. Bullets riddled the hood and grill.

  I slammed on the brakes, leaving a trail of black rubber on the highway. I pulled to the side of the road, trying to avoid the onslaught. Fragments of glass shattered and pelted me in the face. A bullet snapped past my ear and lodged itself into the head-rest, narrowly missing my skull by a fraction of an inch.

  The black truck disappeared into the hills.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  "I suppose," Floyd grumbled.

  The engine stuttered, then died. “Shit!”

  "They must have hit the fuel line," Floyd speculated.

  "What the hell are we going to do?" I was frazzled. A mix of rage and adrenaline coursed through my veins.

  "I don't see as good as I used to, but I’d recognize that squirrelly son-of-a-bitch anywhere. Darrell Wharton.”

  "You know him?"

  “Earl Wharton's boy. Always was a troublemaker. Just like his daddy." Floyd sighed. “The tubby kid in the back is Cooper. Ricky is the dark-hared boy. I reckon they're taking Skyler back to their compound. We’ll get her back, don't you worry none," Floyd assured.

  Darrell’s truck vanished in the cou
ntryside.

  We climbed out of the vehicle and left the SUV on the side of the road. We marched alongside the highway toward Floyd's property.

  "We'll wait until dark, then we’ll lay siege to the compound,” Floyd said with a grin.

  “I swear to God, if anything happens to Skyler, I'll kill them."

  "I'll help you."

  Back in the bunker, Hannah asked, “What happened?” Her face was twisted with fear.

  "What the hell was Skyler doing outside?" Floyd grumbled. "By herself, no less!”

  "She got bored,” Hannah muttered. “She wanted to get some fresh air."

  "It's not safe out there. I don't want anybody leaving this bunker unarmed, and without a companion. You got me? It's too dangerous. And you girls need to realize you're the most valuable resource available."

  "Resource?" Hannah asked with a slight tone of offense.

  "The survival of our species will depend upon women of reproductive age. Not to mention, the less scrupulous will do anything to sample your delights, if you know what I mean."

  "This is so totally fucked up," Hannah said.

  Floyd nodded. "You need to forget everything you know about polite society. Sure, there will be some good people out there, but this is also going to bring forth the worst that mankind has to offer. There are no longer any repercussions. There is no criminal justice. No jails. It’s survival of the fittest. Justice is an eye for an eye.”

  “What are we going to do about Skyler?” Madison asked.

  "We are going to get her back,” I said.

  24

  Acid boiled in my stomach as I paced the bunker, waiting for nightfall. Floyd and I stocked up on weapons. I was beginning to like the plasma rifle, but I figured a sidearm would come in handy as well. I grabbed a 9mm from Floyd’s stockpile and holstered it on my waist. I had several grenades that I had scavenged from the aliens. Floyd had a forward-looking infrared camera and some night vision goggles. We put on tactical helmets, and Floyd handed me an earbud for communication. We look like commandos by the time we were finished gearing up.

  “I don't want anybody leaving this bunker until I come back," Floyd said.

  "What if you don't come back?" Hannah asked.

  I gave her a look.

  "What? It was a legitimate question.”

  "We are coming back," I said. "With Skyler!”

  Madison grabbed my hand and kissed me on the cheek. "Be safe."

  "I will."

  Floyd and I left the bunker and headed to the barn. He had a Vanguard ZR9 sport utility vehicle. It looked like a cross between an H2 Hummer and an armored personnel carrier. It was painted matte black, had a large knobby tires, a 600 hp engine, and a 50 Cal machine gun mounted on top, accessible through a custom sunroof.

  "Holy shit! You don't screw around, do you?"

  “Nothing but the best,“ Floyd said with a grin.

  Beside the sport utility vehicle was a sports car, obscured by a car cover.

  "What's under there?" I asked.

  "Porsche Spyder."

  My eyes widened. "No way!"

  "Yes, way!”

  “You’ve got good taste in cars."

  “I know.”

  I climbed into the passenger seat of the Vanguard. The interior was pristine. The new car smell filled my nostrils, and the leather seats hugged my form, providing the right amount of support.

  "Heated seats, sport suspension, all-wheel-drive, GPS navigation—although I'm not sure how long the satellites will work."

  He cranked up the engine, and we rolled out of the barn. Brilliant stars dotted the sky. It was a clear night, and the full moon bathed the landscape in pale light.

  The massive alien ship still hovered over downtown, barely visible over the treetops. The orange glow of rampant fires lit the night sky on the horizon.

  Floyd turned onto the highway and headed toward the Wharton farm. We passed my broken down SUV as we twisted through the countryside. After a few miles, Floyd turned down a dirt road, then turned onto private property. The SUV rumbled as we crossed a cattle guard and drove down a path into the woods. Floyd turned off the path and drove through thick foliage. He parked the car, and he hopped out.

  I followed Floyd around the back of the vehicle, and he grabbed a camouflage net from the cargo area and we draped it over the vehicle. The chirp of crickets filled my ears. It felt like we were in the middle of nowhere.

  "What's the plan?" I asked.

  "Darrell lives about 1/2 a mile from here. We'll hike the rest of the way on foot"

  “Then what?"

  “I’ll figure that out when we get there.”

  We marched through the forest, leaves crackling under our feet. We tried to make as little noise as possible, but I wasn't a trained professional. Every time a twig snapped under my foot, Floyd scowled at me. He was a lot better at creeping through the woods than I was, and I got the distinct impression Floyd had been in a combat situation before.

  Dappled rays of moonlight filtered through the canopy of leaves, painting patterns on the ground. We made our way through the tall pines and majestic oaks. We held up at the edge of the forest at the south side of the property. Darrell's trailer was in a clearing about 50 yards from the tree-line. His black truck was parked out front.

  I was a little shocked this was where they had planned to ride out the apocalypse. It wasn't anything special. It was just an average, doublewide trailer. No special security features. No underground bunker. It didn't look like they had much stored. If they were going to survive, they would most likely have to scavenge, or steal, what they needed.

  Floyd dug into his pack and pulled out several sticks of plastic explosive.

  "What are you going to do with that?"

  "I'm going to set an explosive charge on the truck and at several areas throughout the property. I can detonate them remotely. That will cause a distraction and pull them out of the trailer. I'll be waiting in the bushes to take them out. You will kick in the back door and grab Skyler. With any luck, there won't be anyone left behind for you to deal with.

  "How will I know when to go?"

  “When things start to go boom."

  25

  Orange and yellow silhouettes displayed on the screen of Floyd's infrared camera. The shapes of the three thugs were easy to make out. It looked like Skyler was tied up in a bedroom.

  Floyd handed the device to me. He pulled down his night vision goggles that were attached to his tactical helmet. He looked like a Navy SEAL, sort of—an older, fatter, Navy SEAL. "Wait for my signal.” He held out his fist and we bumped knuckles. "Good luck."

  I nodded in agreement.

  Floyd was spry for an older guy. He raced toward the truck and placed the plastic explosive underneath by the gas tank. Then he placed a charge by a large propane tank, then another one in the yard. He scampered to the north side of the property and took cover behind a large oak tree.

  I used the infrared camera to keep an eye on Darrell and his buddies. I moved to the back door of the double wide trailer and carefully climbed the wooden steps to the back landing, trying not to squeak the weathered boards. I stood by the back door, my weapon at the ready.

  Floyd's voice crackled in my earbud, “Are you in position?"

  "Affirmative," I whispered. I felt like I was playing a special-ops video game. But this was no game.

  "Hang on. It's going to get loud!”

  An instant later, a massive explosion rumbled the ground. Darrell's truck burst into an amber ball of flames that rolled high in the night sky. Twisted bits of metal, glass, and car parts sprayed in all directions. The blistering hot shrapnel rained down, pattering the tin roof of the double wide trailer.

  The twisted remains of the truck continued to smolder, black smoke billowed into the air. I watched on the infrared as the thugs grabbed their weapons and burst through the front door.

  As soon as Darrell was on the lawn, Floyd triggered the second detonation. The massive propan
e tank erupted with a blinding flash. The explosion was twice the size of the truck’s. The detonation knocked Darrell and Cooper to the ground.

  “Go!" Floyd crackled in my ear.

  I blasted the door lock with the plasma rifle. It vaporized the metal locking mechanism. I kicked the door open and charged into the double-wide.

  Ricky stood by the front door. He twisted toward me and aimed his pistol as I entered. Muzzle flash flickered, and smoke wafted from the barrel. Bullets zipped through the air, smacking the wall panel next to me.

  I fired back, squeezing off two plasma rounds. My hands trembled, and my heart thundered. Adrenaline raced through my veins.

  The bolts tore through Ricky’s chest, vaporizing his heart. His body fell against the couch, then rolled to the ground. A stuffed deer head fell from the wall, and the antlers skewered him.

  Outside, Floyd sniped at Darrell and Cooper. His precision shots dropped the two thugs in their tracks. They writhed on the ground in agony as they bled out, staining the grass red.

  I burst into the bedroom. Skyler and another girl lay on a stained mattress on the floor, bound and gagged. I knelt beside Skyler and untied her wrists and ankles, then I gently removed the duct tape from her mouth. She flung her arms around me and squeezed tight.

  “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine.” Skyler’s eyes widened as she looked at my torso. My shirt blossomed red.

  I’d been shot, but the adrenaline masked the pain.

  I lifted my blood-soaked T-shirt and saw a gash in the side of my rib cage. It looked like a bullet had grazed my chest and carved a nice trench in my flesh, but it was nothing serious.

  I pressed my palm against the wound to stop the bleeding.

  Skyler untied the other girl.

  Her hair was dyed pink and she had creamy skin and blue eyes. She was 19 or 20, and had a southern accent. She wore a tight tube top that accentuated her perfect breasts. Her plaid mini-skirt rode high on her toned thighs. A black choker completed the ensemble.