by Paul Moxham
“What are they doing?” Molly asked.
“I don’t know.” Kenneth stood up and followed the men. The teens couldn’t resist and chased after him.
Kenneth had briefly glanced at the thing that looked like a television screen as he entered, but he hadn’t studied it closely as he had been more interested in the main control room. Also, back then, it was just a blank screen. But not now. Now, it was all lit up, showing crystal clear images of the city of Redding.
“Are these live images?” Kenneth asked, astounded.
Mike whistled. Touching the screen, he zoomed to street level. Images of soldiers working furiously, and even the exhaust from one of the jeeps, could be seen.
It looked so realistic and so close, almost as though you could reach out and touch the people. One of the soldiers looked up.
“Can they see us?” Derek asked.
“Yes. And they just have.”
Soon, more soldiers looked up at them. Some even opened fire with their rifles.
Mike smiled grimly. “Good.”
“Good? But they’re shooting at us,” Kenneth said.
“Yes, which means that everyone will be alert for when the ground forces attack.”
“But we’re not sending any ground forces,” Kenneth replied.
“No, but the incoming aircraft will be.” Mike tilted his brow at Carl. “Search the sky.”
Carl adjusted the controls and the buildings of Redding disappeared. “If they’re aiming for maximum damage, they’ll be as high as possible.”
Everyone was silent as Carl searched the surrounding sky. No aircraft could be seen. Kenneth let out a sigh of relief. “Looks like we got here in time.”
“Maybe. Okay, we’ll head for …” Mike jerked his head around as something emerged from one of the nearby clouds. He cursed. “There she is. Come on, we’ll need to distract it.”
Chapter 9
As Mike and Carl rushed off to the control room, the others took a closer look at the aircraft heading toward them.
Kenneth narrowed his eyes. ”It’s the same damn type of aircraft that we saw when fleeing San Francisco. Logan called it the Destructor, and for good reason.” Twice the size as the Striker, this flying killer was imposing even from a distance.
“It looks just like a glider,” Molly said.
Kenneth just grunted. The material was shiny, and even though the wings were thin, they seemed strong, not flimsy like most glider wings. Maybe this was because they appeared to be covered in the same material that had covered the briefcase. There was one other major advantage the Destructor had over the Striker. It was as quiet as a mouse at a cat convention. It could probably glide from the stratosphere to the height of a treetop and drop a bomb in their laps before they even knew they were in trouble.
As their aircraft tilted to one side, they rushed back to their seats. After strapping in, they stared through the glass as the Striker approached the Destructor.
“What’s the plan?” Kenneth asked, staring as the glider got closer and closer.
“Are you going to shoot it down?” Derek said.
“No. The armor is too powerful. Any attack, even from our weapons, would fail,” Mike said.
As the Striker flew above the Destructor, the other aircraft didn’t even deviate from its path. It started to circle the city.
As Mike took the controls and flew directly above the glider, Carl went to the back of the Striker. Mike lowered the aircraft until there was only fifteen feet separating them from the Destructor.
“Is he going to place explosives on the aircraft?” Kenneth asked.
“Yes, though we don’t carry ones that are strong enough to blast through the armor, so they’ll have to be placed inside the aircraft,” Mike said.
“I’m going now!” Carl bellowed.
Mike turned to Kenneth. “Use the screen in the other room to tell me when he’s on the other aircraft.”
Kenneth raced off. The teens were already staring at the screen. Kenneth didn’t know how to adjust the camera, but fortunately, he didn’t have to. The Destructor filled up the entire screen. On the edge of the screen was a rope ladder that Carl was climbing down. The ladder dangled to and fro, but Carl kept his cool and soon stepped onto the other aircraft. “He’s reached it!”
The Striker drew back a little and rose slightly higher as Mike fine-tuned the controls. Kenneth wasn’t sure why he had done this, but at least Mike could also watch.
“Why isn’t the other aircraft firing on us?” Molly asked.
“It probably doesn’t see us a threat,” Derek said. “Isn’t that right?”
Kenneth nodded absently and focused all his attention on Carl, who had wound the explosives around his waist and was crawling across the top of the Destructor. Even with the wind buffeting him, Carl didn’t stray off course.
“He must have pretty good shoes to do that,” Molly said.
Despite the situation, Kenneth smiled. “Imagine what would happen if humans and Seods worked together and shared their technologies. The world would be an amazing place.”
“Much better than all-out war,” Derek said.
The three of them watched as Carl opened up some sort of hatch and disappeared into the heart of the Destructor.
Kenneth glanced at his watch before he stared at the screen. Everyone fell silent as the seconds ticked by.
“Hey! It’s changing course,” Derek said.
Kenneth muttered to himself as he saw that the teen was right. The beast had been going around in a circle for the last few minutes, but now it swooped back in the same direction it had come from.
Molly sighed. “That’s not good.”
“No.” Kenneth stood up and hurried back to Mike. “What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know.” Mike slowed the Striker and climbed fifty feet. “If they shoot at us, I want to be ready to flee. Our armor isn’t quite as thick as theirs, so the closer we are to them, the less chance we’ll have of surviving.”
“He must have been captured,” Kenneth said. “It wouldn’t have taken that long to plant the explosives.” He frowned as he saw the expression on Mike’s face. Something was off, as he didn’t look too distraught. “He’s trying to turn them, isn’t he? Trying to get them to work for the Alliance?”
Mike gazed at Kenneth. “You’re a smart man. You catch on quick.”
Kenneth leaned forward and hummed at the giant shadow rising through the gray clouds. “Hey, I recognize that mountain. Isn’t that Mount Shasta?”
“Yep. And also the site of our base.”
Derek frowned. “Of course. It all fits.”
“What?” Molly asked.
Derek glanced between his sister and Kenneth. “George said something about a mountain northwest of Lake Tahoe. The one nicknamed Death Mountain.”
“Death Mountain? Where everyone dies?” Molly cried out.
“Yes, but don’t be afraid. We’re not going …” Mike paused as Carl emerged from the Destructor, waving furiously. “Ah, that does not look good.” He quickly adjusted the controls and the Striker increased speed. “Tell me when I’m above him,” Mike said, glancing at Kenneth.
Kenneth raced back to the other room, all thoughts of Mount Shasta forgotten. He stared at the sight on the screen as the rope ladder got closer and closer to the Destructor. As soon as it reached the surface, he yelled, “It’s touching.”
“Can he reach it?” Mike shouted back.
“Yes, he’s going toward it now.” Kenneth stared as Carl marched toward the ladder. Suddenly, a massive blast ripped through the inside of the Destructor.
The ship took a nosedive, with Carl running for the ladder. Before he could grab it, the ladder spun off into the open air.
“He can’t get it!” Kenneth roared. “You need to descend faster!”
“I’m trying to!” Mike howled.
The Destructor steepened its dive. Even though the Striker tried to follow the same path, it couldn’t match
the trajectory of the other aircraft as it started to spin.
Kenneth stared helplessly as Carl ran back to the hatch and disappeared from sight. Kenneth hurried back to Mike and the teens, who were gazing through the glass in shock. “Did you see that?”
“He must be trying to land,” Derek said.
“He’s crazy,” Molly said.
“It’s his only choice,” Mike muttered. “I hung back too long. If the ladder had been in the right position just a few seconds earlier, he’d be here right now.”
The conversation ceased as the aircraft approached the ground. It was still spinning when it smashed into a group of trees.
“Maybe he can climb out before it catches fire,” Molly suggested.
Suddenly, the Destructor exploded. A trail of black smoke rose up into the air.
Molly grimaced. “Or maybe not.”
Glancing around, Kenneth focused on Mount Shasta barely two miles away. It looked massive, bigger than the mountains at the ski resort at Lake Tahoe and even taller than the mountains that he had seen in Stanislaus National Forest. As it was still winter, snow covered a large part of the mountain, all the way down to the tree line.
“What are we going to do?” Derek asked.
Mike frowned as two Strikers appeared out of the clouds and headed toward them. “If the pilot of the Destructor had enough time to contact his superiors, we’re in trouble. Deep trouble.”
As the two Strikers roared past and circled them, a voice came through a communication device. Mike quickly replied in the same language.
“What do they want?” Derek asked.
Mike sighed. “They want us to follow them back to Mount Shasta.”
“But we can’t go there!” Kenneth spluttered. “Once they see us, they’ll kill us”
“I know, I know.” Mike studied the intricate map displayed on the small screen to the right of them. “I’m trying to think of somewhere safe we can go.”
“How long will they wait?” Molly said, gazing up at the Strikers as they continued to circle.
“Not long. If—” The communication device beeped again. He listened before switching it off. He rubbed his stiff neck. “If we don’t head for the mountain in two minutes, they’ll open fire.”
Kenneth cursed as he paced back and forth. “Do you have someone at Mount Shasta that you can trust?”
“Well, yes, I—” Mike said.
“Can you contact him now?” Kenneth interrupted.
“I’ll try.” Mike switched on the communication device and spoke into it.
Kenneth glanced at his watch. “We have ninety seconds left.”
As the seconds passed and there was no reply, Mike stopped talking. “He’s not picking up.”
“Maybe he was caught,” Derek said.
Mike sighed. “Probably.”
“So what do we do?” Molly said.
Mike sighed. “I don’t know.”
The seconds quickly ticked away. When their time was up, the enemy aircraft shot red bolts just inches in front of the Striker.
Mike took the controls and banked the Striker toward the mountain. “I have to obey them. We have no choice.”
The enemy aircrafts took up positions on either side of the Striker as they headed in the direction of Mount Shasta.
“What do you think they’ll do to us?” Derek said.
“I don’t know,” Mike admitted.
Kenneth tried to think of what they could do, but the two Strikers on either side of them complicated matters. The clouds parted and Mount Shasta came into full view.
Even if they did think of something, it would be too late.
~*~*~
Logan surveyed the street outside the hospital. A few leaves rustled on the ground, but not a single soul could be seen. He headed inside and caught sight of Jet. He was lugging a fancy M-6 battle rifle in his hand and had an older AK-47 slung over his back.
“Where did you find those?” Logan asked.
“Out back, next to a dumpster and a few rotting corpses.” Jet handed the bulky AK-47 and a few magazines to Logan, but he held on to the sci-fi-looking M-6. “There’s some ammo left in them. Not much, but some.”
Logan glanced down the hallway as Lucy and Xavier approached. “Did everything go all right?”
Xavier nodded as he showed the others the bandage on his leg. “It’s going to be a bit painful for the next twenty-four hours, but I’ll be all right. Now, did you find a car for us to use?”
“Yes, it’s right outside,” Logan said. “There weren’t many to pick from in the underground parking lot, but I chose the one that had the most gas. Also, it was the easiest to hot wire.”
Xavier noticed the weapons. “They’ll come in handy if we’re attacked.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Jet said.
“Let’s go,” Xavier said, hurrying toward the door.
Xavier had already climbed into the blue Volvo when the others exited the hospital. Logan had a final look around and was just about to head to the car, when he stopped and stared.
Down the street, half a block away, a figure was crouched in the open. He held something over his shoulder. A moment later, the man disappeared in a cloud of exhaust.
“Incoming!” Logan lunged for Lucy, throwing her down and under him as the RPG tore down the street.
A split second later, the deadly projectile slammed into the Volvo.
Chapter 10
The force of the exploding Volvo threw Logan, Lucy, and Jet to the ground. Logan climbed to his knees as soon as the shrapnel stopped zinging. He ignored the flaming wreck singeing the back of his neck and scurried over to his gun. A hailstorm of rounds stitched the air around him.
“Run! I’ll cover you.” He popped up and spotted the rocket man now rocking a drum-fed machine gun. The man trudged their way, slinging spent brass in his wake.
“Damn!” Logan reached down and scooped the fallen M-6 off the ground. He fired tightly controlled pairs, doing his best to make sure his last few rounds counted. He hit nothing, but the gunman’s poorly aimed fire lessened as he sought his own cover.
Logan took advantage of the lull and tore off across the lawn. Over his shoulder, he spied two new shadows advancing on the hospital, darting behind cover on occasion, and trying to conceal themselves.
“Why’d you stop?” Logan caught up to Jet and Lucy, sliding hard into some shrubbery next to them. Blood dripped from a wound on Jet’s right arm.
Logan stared into the distraught face of Lucy. “You have to go to the parking lot and find us another vehicle.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Lucy hissed.
Logan gently took his fiancée’s face in his hands. “I don’t want us to separate either, but there’s at least three men out there, and there might be more. We have to get away before they surround the hospital. We can’t do anything if we’re trapped in here.”
Jet rose up, clutching the AR-15 in his steady hands. “I’ll stay and shoot.”
Logan saw that Jet’s hands were unsteady. “No, you’re wounded. Go with Lucy and find us a car.”
“Okay.” Jet gave his weapon to Logan. “You’ll need this.”
“Thanks. Now get going.” He waited for Lucy and Jet to head inside before he focused his attention on the Volvo.
That one look took him back to Iraq, back to the suicide bombings. He had seen many Humvees blown up, but he had also seen a lot of civilian vehicles blown up. That was the worst part about wars: the innocent victims. They didn’t deserve to die, but die they did. By the truckload.
Logan was ripped from his thoughts as a bullet tore through the glass of the hospital door and nicked his shoulder. He ducked down and rushed for cover, hiding in front of the smoldering wreck of the Volvo. He knew it wasn’t the best place to hide, but he didn’t have any other option.
With a firm grip on the AK-47, he inched forward to the front of the car and peered around. He saw one man kneeling behind a trash can, another behind a wrec
ked military jeep, and another on the roof of an apartment building.
It didn’t take long to count his handful of remaining bullets. Knowing it was going to take time to hot wire a vehicle, he waited. There wasn’t any use in wasting rounds.
He inched back and turned around to discover one of the men, the one who had fired the rocket launcher, stalking down the sidewalk.
They spotted each other at the same time. Logan pulled the trigger on his weapon first. A stream of lead shot toward the man. Clutching his chest, he crumbled to the pavement and twitched uncontrollably.
Logan inched back to the front of the car, careful to keep himself behind the engine block. The other men were advancing. Before he could find his mark on the closest one, the men opened fire.
A round zipped through the car’s aluminum sides just inches away from his grinding teeth. Logan crept back. This was going to be harder than he had first thought. He waited for the endless gunfire to stop or at least slow, but it didn’t.
In between the suppressive fire, a scampering sound to his flank gave away the game. While one shooter kept him pinned down with steady fire, the others maneuvered in to deliver the kill shot.
He inched toward the front of the Volvo and tried to get a shot off. The continued barrage of lead forced him to stay concealed. All he could do was stick his weapon around the corner and fire blindly, hoping to at least go out in style.
~*~*~
As the Striker approached Mount Shasta, Derek pressed his nose to the viewport. “Where are we going to land?”
“I can’t see a flat spot, let alone a runway,” Molly said. Just as she spoke, a long piece of snow-covered rock started to move. Astounded, the group watched as a black hole opened halfway up the mountain.
“How did they do that?” Derek asked.
“Camouflage,” Mike said.
“What if we skirt along the treetops?” Kenneth interrupted. “We can head for Stinson Beach, where my brother will be waiting. We have to try something. God knows what they’ll do with us.”
