Invasion

by J. Thorn

  “We’ve got to lift him out of here, John.”

  “The hell you are. Just go. Leave me here.”

  Reno shook his head. “Not a chance.”

  “That’s an order!” Matthews said with a cough.

  “Yeah, well, we’re not in the army,” John said.

  Reno and John each grabbed an arm and lifted the sergeant up. He let out a painful moan as they maneuvered him out the back of the transport, which had come to a stop laying on its driver’s side.

  A haze of black smoke hung over the roadway and the stench of burning rubber made Reno gag. He looked to the sky, just waiting for the next round of explosive laser beams to finish the job. Off the side of the road, though, he noted that there were woods.

  “Over there. Come on.”

  Reno and John picked up Sergeant Matthews again and together they hobbled to the side of the road, slid down the embankment, and headed for the trees. Reno’s biceps felt like they were on fire, and the only thing that kept him from dropping the sergeant was the leftover adrenaline from their escape.

  Reno said to John, “Let’s set him down h—”

  The ground rumbled. Reno and John dropped the sergeant and went down themselves. Reno landed on his stomach and covered his head. Leaves and branches rained down upon them, but nothing injured any of the three men further.

  When Reno sat up and looked back toward the highway, fire had engulfed the transport they had just escaped.

  17

  Dusk came, and it brought with it a slight chill. Reno shivered once, then tried to ignore the feeling. He wanted to keep Sergeant Matthews as comfortable as he could, and even though he knew the prideful soldier would never complain, Reno understood that he was hurting, lying in the tall grass with the injuries he’d sustained.

  “We can’t keep him here much longer,” Reno said. “He needs real medical attention.”

  “What do we do besides wait for someone else to come by?” John asked. “You think it’s safe to venture out in the dark?”

  “I don’t think it’s safe anywhere, at any time. We just gotta hope someone is traveling the highway and not getting blown up by those lasers.” Reno stood and patted down the front of his pants. “Stay here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to walk up to the road. Stick around and keep the sergeant awake, keep his mind off his pain.”

  Reno pushed through the trees and then climbed up the embankment to the shoulder of the highway. He stayed low, casting furtive glances into the darkening sky but not seeing any pulsing lights or polished metal.

  The transport was nothing but a charred corpse, the men who’d died inside having been unintentionally cremated, as well. The smell of diesel and sickly-sweet burned flesh forced Reno to put his arm over his nose.

  Looking both ways, Reno saw no movement, human or otherwise. Where were they supposed to take Matthews, and how would they get him there? Reno thought of Maya. She would have been able to get them out of the situation by hot-wiring one of the vehicles that had survived the blasts from the alien ship. He pictured her face and her warm smile.

  He looked out at the still highway. “I hope you’re okay out there, and that you’ve found your kids. See you again soon, God willing.”

  “Reno!”

  He spun around. John’s voice had come from the woods.

  “Come quick!”

  Reno stumbled down the hill, ignoring the twinge in his ankle. Surprisingly, the strain had seemed to settle into a low-level ache which didn’t bother him unless he thought about it. Reno pushed through the low-hanging Magnolia trees, their scent a welcome distraction from the reek of death left on the highway. He stopped at the bottom of the embankment and looked at John, who was standing over Matthews. The soldier lay on his back, his body convulsing and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  “I don’t know what happened. He just started doing this.”

  Reno kneeled next to Matthews. Blood trickled from the corners of the sergeant’s mouth.

  “Shit.”

  “What?” John asked.

  Matthews clutched at his stomach, squirming and writhing on the ground.

  “Probably internal bleeding,” Reno said. “Blunt force trauma from the accident.”

  “Shit. Tell me what I can do to help.”

  The man on the ground shuddered, his eyes shooting open as if he’d been electrocuted.

  Reno stared into Matthews’ bloodshot eyes, then glanced back at John. He shook his head. John sighed, but Matthews spoke before Reno could say anything.

  “I-I need to...”

  “Don’t try to talk,” Reno said.

  The soldier stared up at Reno, giving him a slight nod. His eyes shifted slightly, seeming to look past Reno. Then Matthews took a breath, which turned into uncontrollable wheezing.

  Reno stood and pulled John out of earshot. He whispered. “There’s nothing we can do for him. He’s hemorrhaging. Probably has a collapsed lung. The only way to save his life would be to get him into surgery right now.”

  “We’ve got to get him out of here.”

  “How?” Reno looked at John, understanding that the cop didn’t want to give up on the soldier. “We don’t have a vehicle. We can’t just carry him.”

  “Maybe one of the cars left on the highway has the keys inside.”

  Doubtful, Reno knew. But he had to let John do everything he could for Matthews. He nodded.

  “Go have a look if you want. I’ll stay here with him. Maybe you’re right and—”

  Reno cut his sentence short and turned when he heard soggy hacks. He saw Matthews with his hand raised, a knife firmly in his grip. Reno walked over and kneeled, taking the knife from the soldier’s hand.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Do it.”

  Reno’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

  “Help me end the pain.”

  Reno swallowed, his eyes wide. He glanced at the knife, then looked over his shoulder at John before facing Matthews again.

  “No. We’re going to try and figure this out.”

  “I heard you. Nothing you can do. Except this.”

  Reno stared at the knife in his hands. What Matthews was asking for wasn’t something he could do. Even if it was the most humane option, he couldn’t kill a man. And he could see in John’s eyes that the cop couldn’t do it, either.

  Yet, if Matthews had had the strength, he never would have asked Reno.

  The realization hit Reno then. He couldn’t let the man suffer. He’d never experienced internal bleeding himself, but he had dealt with plenty of patients who had. It was recognized as one of the most agonizing experiences any human could endure. Reno didn’t know how quickly Matthews was hemorrhaging. He could last minutes, or he could last hours. Was Reno prepared to sit with the man and watch him slowly die, all the while in magnificent pain?

  Reno sighed, gripping the knife until his hand began to sweat. He felt John’s eyes on them, but the cop had said nothing.

  “Go see if you can find some keys in a vehicle so you and I can get out of here.”

  “What about Matthews?”

  Reno turned around so he could make full eye contact with John.

  The cop shook his head. “Don’t do this, man. Let’s see if we can find a car first.”

  “It’s what he wants. Now, go and see—”

  Both men looked toward the highway when they heard footsteps and rustling coming from the high grass. Reno froze, and he held up one finger to John, who had heard the noises at almost the same time.

  John gestured at Matthews, but Reno shook his head. There was no way they could move him, and Reno could only hope that the aliens would kill them instantly and without prolonged pain.

  This was how it would end. That was the thought that Reno had as he prepared to die. They didn’t have weapons, and even if they had, the aliens seemed to be able to heal themselves. And there was no way to outrun the ETs who were able to fly with their own pro
pulsion system strapped to their backs. He pictured the faces of his family, his friends, and Maya.

  “If you have weapons, drop them. We’re 100% red-blooded Americans.”

  Reno looked at John, relieved and anxious at the same time. One thing he knew for sure was that the aliens hadn’t started talking with a southern drawl.

  18

  “Hold it right there.” One of the soldiers stepped through the brush and aimed his rifle at Reno.

  Reno kept his hands raised. He looked over at John.

  “Is someone else with you?” another soldier asked.

  “There’s only two of us left standing, and an injured soldier,” Reno said.

  “Keep your hands where I can see ’em and slowly step out.”

  John raised his hands and emerged from behind the tree. The soldier on the right looked him up and down.

  “You’re a cop?”

  John nodded. “Nashville P.D. And my friend here is an EMT.”

  “What are you doing out here? And why is there a dead soldier at your feet?”

  Reno’s eyes narrowed. “What? No. He’s not dead.”

  The second soldier kneeled by Matthews and checked his pulse. He looked up at the first soldier. “Alive. Barely.”

  “We were in a transport and on our way from Nashville when we were attacked,” John said. “The three of us were the only survivors.”

  Reno stepped forward, against the soldier’s orders. “But it’s only going to be two survivors if we don’t get him some help fast.”

  The soldier who was still standing glared at Reno for a minute. Then he lowered his weapon, letting out a sigh. “Get to the JLTV and drive it back here. We’ve got to get this poor guy back to base.”

  The other soldier stood and hurried out of the woods, back towards the highway.

  Reno and John still had their hands raised.

  “You gentlemen can put your hands down. I’m Private First Class Reynolds, U.S. Army. Just call me Reynolds.”

  The soldier stuck out his hand and Reno shook it.

  “I’m Reno, and this is John.”

  “Nice to meet you. Now, can you give me an update on the wounded?”

  “This is Matthews,” John said. “Sergeant Matthews.”

  Reynolds met his eyes. “Sergeant. Yeah, I saw his stripes.”

  “Our vehicle flipped,” Reno said. “I’m pretty sure he’s got internal bleeding. He needs an ER doctor, and soon, or we’re going to lose him.”

  A few minutes passed, and then the sound of an engine came from the road. The soldier who Reynolds had identified as Braxton emerged carrying a spine board stretcher. He lay it on the ground next to Matthews.

  “Be careful moving him,” Reno said. He then looked at Matthews, whose eyes were barely open. “Hang in there, Sergeant.”

  They carefully rolled Matthews onto his side and slid the board under him. Reno strapped him down, and then each man took a corner.

  “On three,” Reno said. He counted, and on his mark, they lifted Matthews.

  They carried him to the road where the JLTV sat idling and loaded him into the back of the vehicle. Reno jumped into the back seat, where he could keep an eye on the sergeant.

  “I hope we can make it back before night,” Braxton said.

  “We should be able to,” Reynolds said.

  Reno didn’t know why that mattered, but he didn’t care. He only wanted to get to the base to get Matthews help.

  “Just hang in there, Sarge.”

  Braxton hit the gas, and the JLTV was off.

  Reno kept looking at Matthews—the man’s skin had gone white and he flittered in and out of consciousness. He groaned with every bump in the road, and Reno noticed that John was now staring at the sergeant, as well.

  “Jesus.” John looked out the window and then back at Reno. “If we don’t get to Fort Campbell soon, this guy is gonna die.”

  Reno had witnessed so much death since this had all begun. Most of it had occurred in random flashes of violence which had left him helpless. But this guy, Matthews, he had a chance. The odds weren’t great, but Reno could do something about it. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

  John groaned, and Reno looked out his window to see what had troubled the cop anew.

  Some cars had been abandoned, their doors open and the vehicles pulled off onto the shoulder of the road as if the drivers had stopped for a moment to check a tire. But other vehicles sat in piles of burning, twisted metal. Charred corpses blended into the melted plastic, creating a grotesque sculpture of death and destruction. Even inside their vehicle, the stench of gasoline and burnt flesh made Reno gag. Some of the bodies on the road had been burned so badly that he couldn’t tell whether the person had been a man or woman as they passed close by. And he had seen enough of the attacks to know that the death here was simply collateral damage. The flying aliens had not only killed people—they’d vaporized them with lasers like something out of a science fiction movie.

  John said, “I knew it was bad in the dome, but my God.”

  “Is it like this everywhere?” Reno asked.

  “As far as we know,” Reynolds said. “None of the reports we’ve received have been positive.”

  Again, Maya popped into Reno’s mind. He had wanted to believe that the invasion wasn’t widespread, that it was a strange anomaly in Nashville. But Reno couldn’t believe his own lie now, and as he surveyed the damage the aliens had left behind, he wondered if Maya would have had any chance to drive to her mother’s house without being blown to pieces by whatever weapon had attacked the Army transport.

  An explosion pulled him out of his thoughts, rocking the JLTV like the earlier blasts they’d felt had knocked around the transport. He glanced out the back of the vehicle, looking to the night sky and expecting a laser to cut through the clouds like before.

  But it wasn’t just a beam this time.

  Flames lit the horizon, and a huge, dark shape flew through the flames.

  It was headed right for the JLTV.

  19

  John turned around, looking out the back window with Reno.

  “Not again.”

  But Reno knew this wasn’t the same. Before, the attack had come from above the clouds, possibly from an alien ship at high altitude or low orbit. He squinted, trying to identify the figures coming at them.

  “What is that?” John asked, finally noticing what Reno saw.

  “Floor it!” Reno yelled, turning around to the drivers.

  “It is!” Braxton said.

  “What do you see?” Reynolds asked.

  Reno pointed out the back window. “That thing is headed right for us!”

  There was another explosion. Reno wasn’t wearing his seatbelt and he jolted forward, falling onto the floorboards. The tires squealed as the JLTV swerved. The momentum threw Reno against the back of the driver’s seat. He thought the vehicle would crash and roll like the transport had, but instead he felt the JLTV straighten up and continue speeding down the road. He looked up at John, who had been thinking fast enough to put a seatbelt on.

  “Check on Matthews!”

  John looked over the back of the chair and gave Reno a thumbs-up. “He’s still alive.”

  Reno was glad they’d had the time to strap Matthews down, but the erratic and violent shakes of the JLTV under attack would worsen the sergeant’s condition and make it even less likely they’d get the man medical attention in time. Reno pushed himself back up into his seat and looked out the back window to see if the shape in the sky had gotten any closer.

  He gazed around, but saw nothing.

  “Where did it go?”

  John shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Switch seats with me, Reno,” Reynolds said. “I’m going to try and get a visual and unload some fire.”

  Reynolds grabbed his rifle from the floorboards before him and unstrapped himself. He squeezed between the seats and sat down before Reno moved up to the front seat. He was sure t
o strap himself in this time, locking his seatbelt over his lap with a firm click.

  Reynolds opened the window and pointed the rifle outside.

  “You have a visual?” Braxton asked.

  “Negative.”

  Reno scanned the sky and tried to find the target. He saw nothing. Then he turned around to John.

  “How’s Matthews?”

  “Same, man. We’ve just got to get him to the base soon or...”

  “Working on it,” Braxton said. “We’re only a few miles from—”

  Reno recoiled and ducked down below the dashboard, the glass above him shattering. He felt the JLTV jerk and, when he looked to the driver’s seat, his eyes went wide.

  Braxton was gone.

  Somehow, Reno had the sense to reach over and take the wheel. Without a foot on the pedal, however, the JLTV had decelerated—the slight incline and gravity slowing it down. Reno unbuckled his seatbelt and hopped over into the driver’s seat. His hands and legs shook as he stomped the gas and straightened the wheel.

  “What happened?” John asked.

  “I don’t know. Did you see it?” Reno asked.

  “Some laser beam came out of nowhere and got Braxton,” Reynolds said.

  “Got him?” John pointed at the front seat. “It fucking evaporated him, man!”

  “Just keep your foot on the gas,” Reynolds said. “We’re not far from the base.”

  “Can you see whatever is shooting at us?” Reno asked.

  “Negative. But you’ll know when I do, because I’m gonna pump it full of lead.”

  Reno kept his eyes on the road ahead while muffled explosions rolled toward them from every direction, sounding like several summer thunderstorms all firing at once. Laser beam flashes lit the asphalt, vehicles blowing up and catching fire where the concentrated energy hit full gas tanks. Reno kept his foot on the gas and swerved to miss vehicles and debris in the road.

  Behind him, Reynolds screamed and fired off the assault rifle. Reno recoiled and clenched the wheel before him, the sound like nothing he’d ever heard. He had been around guns before, but he’d never had an assault weapon fired from such a close range. His ears rang and the smoke burned his eyes, but he managed to keep the JLTV on the road.