The Invasion Trilogy Box Set [#1-#3]

by Lundy, W. J.

  The weather had turned for the worse and the temperatures slowly dropped. The day had started with a light rain that gradually built into a heavy snowfall that soon covered the ground with fresh accumulation. Jacob watched a pair of Deltas moving into view. Through his scope, they almost appeared to be ordinary hikers, except the woman was dressed in jeans and long black boots. The man in a dark business suit. Not only did they not belong together as a couple, they didn’t belong in the woods in the late fall. The scene almost made him laugh.

  “You think anything human is left in them?” Jacob whispered, watching the man walk along the trail.

  “I used to think that, but not anymore; especially not after that black-eyed bastard back at the factory,” James said, keeping his hand on Duke’s head to calm him.

  The dog’s lips were curled in the presence of the Deltas. “Duke sure does hate them. I wonder if he watched his family taken. Don’t you worry, boy; it’s almost time for us to get some payback,” James said, scratching Duke’s neck. Duke pushed his head against James like he understood what he was saying.

  When the Deltas passed, Jacob gave the all clear over the handheld and the work started again. The Bobcat ran long into the afternoon until the word was finally passed for them to return to the cabin. Stone told them over the radio to avoid the ambush site. They didn’t want anything being led into the area until the day of the attack, and Stone was worried about them leaving tracks in the fresh snow.

  As ordered, James made a wide cut through the woods, working his way back to the bunker. Duke shadowed beside him with Jacob just behind. “So, I heard you have a family back in Canada,” James said.

  Jacob sighed. “Yeah, a wife and daughter.”

  “That why you joined up, for the benefits?” James asked.

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that. If they’d offered us safety and shelter without it, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

  James laughed. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, men have been fighting for the benefits since the history of war. Sometimes the benefits aren’t as obvious, sometimes they are.”

  “What’s your benefit?” Jacob asked.

  “Me?” James said, “No, no benefit for me. I fight because it’s the only thing I’m good at. Heck, maybe that’s my benefit. You can’t do this on the outside without ending up in prison. I’ve tried the civilian life. Didn’t work out for me. You try writing warfighter as an occupation and blowing shit up as a special skill.” James laughed. “No, I got out for a minute after my second tour in Iraq, but I couldn’t stay away. I bet everyone would like to hire Sergeant James now though. Yeah, I signed right back up for a third tour. I was on leave when all this shit started.”

  “Vacation with the family?” Jacob asked.

  “Oh, no family for me, bro. This was a fun trip… out with my boys in Atlantic City,” James said, taking a long pause before continuing. “My best friend from high school. The son of a bitch was getting married. Best bachelor party ever, you know? Boys all out on the town. Hell, they were all there, all of the old crew. His brother. One of my favorite cousins. Man, I hadn’t seen those guys in forever. It was good, Jacob, real good. We had a lot of fun for those first couple days.” James looked away, reflecting, taking several steps before continuing.

  “That wedding never happened.”

  James stopped and turned, looking toward the lake. He moved away so that he stood next to a tree, his tone dropping. “Shit, Jacob—I’m the only one of us left now. All my friends are gone. They looked to me, the bad ass Marine, lean and mean. They thought I had all the answers. Hell, I thought I had the answers. There wasn’t shit I could do. As soon as we hit the streets, we were separated in the crowds. It was mass chaos. I barely got out myself.

  “Fucked up to think about it. Them all gone and me still here. Why me, Jacob? I’m no better than they were. Their only mistake was trusting me.”

  Jacob didn’t know what to say; he stood silently waiting.

  “You know, Jacob, this really is the place for warfighters like us. It’s where we belong. Warfighters need to be together. We can’t get mixed up with civilians all together in cities like that. That’s how shit gets broken.”

  “Like us?” Jacob asked.

  James nodded. “Oh yeah, I’ve watched you. You’re a warfighter too; you just haven’t accepted it yet. You keep fighting against it, telling yourself you’re just here because you have to be, just trying to follow along doing the bare minimum. Screw that noise. You need to embrace it, bro. Don’t endure; you got to embrace this shit, or it will eat you alive.”

  Jacob laughed. “You’re nuts.”

  “You’ll see.” James turned back hard on the trail. He stepped ahead and faced Jacob, his expression suddenly serious. He moved so that he was inches from Jacob’s face. “I’m telling you. Tomorrow, when we are out there on that line and those things are coming at us, don’t fight like you’re being forced to; fight like you’re standing in front of something worth protecting. If the Devil points his finger at you, you better lash out and bite it.” James turned away, not waiting for an answer, leaving Jacob standing alone. “That’s how you keep your family safe,” James said over his shoulder.

  They trekked silently down the trail after that, Jacob giving the man space. They crossed over the barbed wire and exited into the clearing of the cabin. Jacob saw the others gathered near the barn. Stone had a trapdoor pulled back, revealing a deep root cellar. It was the type people used to shelter in during tornados and severe storms. Jacob edged closer and could see it was stocked with weapons. Jesse was in the hole removing items as Stone pointed to them. They stepped closer to the stack of weapons and James leaned down and grabbed a heavy machine gun from the ground. “I’ll take this 240 if you’re playing Santa,” he said.

  Stone turned to face him, looking him up and down. “Yeah, you sure as shit do look like a machine gunner. Go on and take it; you’ll find some linked ammo in the barn.”

  Peering down into the cellar, Jacob saw a scoped M14 leaning in a corner. The same as the one he’d used in training. “Sir, the M14.”

  Stone looked back suspiciously. “You know how to handle it?” he asked.

  “I had one like it in training,” Jacob said.

  Stone waved a hand at the M14 rifle then pointed further in. “Give him old reliable over there. Yeah, that shorty AK47 pistol also. Works well for CQB and kicking them when they’re down.”

  “How’d you buy all of this?” Jacob asked.

  Stone smirked. “I owned a gun shop in town after I retired, but I didn’t buy most of this. Well, not all of it. The big hardware like that M240 machine gun and the .50 in the barn, my boys found out on the highway right where the military dropped them after things went to hell. Loads of abandoned military checkpoints up and down the highway and county roads; plenty of hardware to be picked up. Have to get to it before it gets to rusting though.

  “Some of this stuff I owned from before or collected on my own. People with militia ambitions stashed the rest here. Being a licensed gun dealer, I’ve been holding some things for them. Hell, some I’m still expecting to come back and collect. Can’t believe all them crazy bastards are gone.”

  Jesse looked up from the hole. “So that’s who you are, what this place is. You’re with the militia?”

  “Go on, boy. Grab that big, green, square box-looking thing there and climb on out. So militia, ay? Is that who you take me for?” Stone laughed, looking down at Jesse.

  The big man lifted the object and set it on the edge of the hole. “I don’t know, I guess not. But it is a lot of guns.”

  The old man crept along to the edge and leaned down to lift the M202 flame weapon. He held it up and turned it in his hands, inspecting it. “Been in there awhile. Need to make sure it ain’t leaking. If the jelly gets to leaking and you fire it, the rocket motors tend to ignite the whole damn thing then blow up on your shoulder and roast you like a marshmallow. But don’t worry about none of that; this
one looks good,” Stone said, slapping the case and setting it beside him. “I’ll show you how to use it later.”

  Jesse looked at him apprehensively. “Oh, gee, thanks… I guess.”

  “However, to answer your question, I’m not militia, but I don’t got nothing against them either. They always paid me well to make purchases and hold stuff for ’em, and they’re all legal like—I got nothing to gain by selling to criminals. Property taxes don’t pay themselves, and an Army retirement check only stretches so far. Man’s gotta run a business.”

  They closed up the barn and weapons cache then followed Stone back to the cabin.

  “We better lock up, it’s getting dark. Gloria’s got some venison on the stove. Oh, and don’t mention the guns to her—she don’t know about half of them,” Stone said, letting out a deep laugh before stepping inside.

  The team followed him in, securing the cabin’s doors. As Stone had mentioned, as soon as they entered the space, they were hit with the smell of roasting meat. They followed him down into the bunker below. Gloria had the table set, and they gathered around for a family-style dinner. The kids had gathered at one end of the room, watching the hungry men devour the meat and vegetables.

  Jacob looked up away from his plate and saw a little girl in the corner staring at him curiously. He smiled at her, causing the girl to blush and retreat to the back. Jacob finished his meal and helped the others clean up before they began closing up the bunker for the night.

  Stone spread the men out and split them up across the bunker, making sure they were comfortable. James and Stephens would sleep above ground, keeping watch behind the bolted door, while the others slept below on fold-out military cots. Rogers stuck by the radio, managing to get it working, but still not reaching anyone.

  He planned to stay awake all night, attempting to make calls, but Stone insisted he get some sleep. He showed one of the kids how to operate it, and they formed a twenty-four hour radio watch, hoping to get a message out. Rogers was satisfied and returned to a cot along the bunker wall. Stone walked the length of the bunker, shutting off lights before retreating to the family space in the back. “Try to get some rest. We have a big day ahead of us.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Eve led them into a lowland next to a small lake. At the north end of the lake was a creek that flowed around and into the larger lake. There were larger streams, even rivers, farther away, but she didn’t think they could reach them without running into the neighbors. Everything else in this area flowed out of the lake and wouldn’t suit their purpose.

  The activity was fierce the closer they got into the wetlands. They had to stop often to avoid the wandering Deltas, sometimes forced to lie in ditches for long agonizing minutes while they passed by. They now pressed close to the ground with their bodies prone in the fresh snow.

  Jacob looked up, swiveling his head. The ground in the well-traveled area was covered in footprints. “It’s not safe here; we need to make this quick.”

  Stephens lay beside him. He knew Rogers would be somewhere on the high ground, perched over a scope, covering them while they worked. Eve crawled toward the bank then stopped and looked back. “How close do we have to get?” she asked, looking away from the black murky water. She was looking at Jacob, the resident engineer. They all assumed he was the expert on all things mechanical or scientific.

  “I’m not that kind of engineer,” he whispered back.

  “Grace us with a guess,” Stephens snarled through his teeth.

  Jacob pushed up from his stomach, looking in all directions. The small lake stretched for hundreds of yards. Eve had brought them in through a thick point on the north side of the small lake. Behind them was the larger lake. Jacob could see where the water pooled and flowed through a narrow channel into the larger body of water, both visibly contaminated by the Delta oil. They were hidden in tall reeds right at the water line. The shoreline to the east and west was met with cottages and larger lake homes. “This feeds into the big lake; it should be good enough.”

  She nodded. Jacob looked down at the oily water, watching it swirl and flow. Searching the shoreline, he could see masses on the far sides. There was no denying this was a seed pond. “How fast is the current? How fast does it flow into the big lake?” he whispered.

  She looked back at him, her eyes showing frustration. “I don’t know; it’s a creek. What the hell, Jacob; are we going to do this or not?” she snapped.

  He second-guessed the plan. They were attempting to mix a few gallons into millions. What if it diluted the solution and it didn’t work, making it useless, wasting the small amount they had. They’d only get one shot. He watched the swirling liquid, observing bits of the lake’s surface flex and relax, as though it wasn’t really water. The fluid motion looked more organic, like a large living organism. What if the entire surface reacted in the same way the Delta’s skin did?

  Stephens pushed his pack forward, breaking his thoughts. “This will have to do.” He opened the flap and removed the plastic bottles. He passed them forward to Eve, who was closer to the shoreline, lying just above where the bank rolled into the opaque liquid.

  Eve took the repurposed soda bottles and carefully placed them next to Jacob. There were twenty in all, the team deciding to hold some back to return to command. “How do we do this?” she asked, looking to him again.

  Jacob reached for a bottle, opened it, and placed it next to a rock as he opened several more, prepping them. “Let’s get them all opened, then we toss ’em in and run like hell. We need to be quick; once we disturb the surface, they'll be on the move.”

  Stephens stretched a hand to offer another set of bottles. As he moved, he shifted loose a small rock. Jacob watched as it tumbled down the bank and lunged forward, trying to stop it. Unable to reach it in time, the rock bumped into the stack of bottles, knocking one loose. It fell over, spilling its precious liquid as it rolled down the small embankment to the water line. They held their breath watching as the bottle stopped short in the soft sand, not quite touching the oily liquid.

  The bottle slurped and burped as the dioxin flowed out. It rolled along the bank then joined with the murky fluid. Like oil and water, the compounds didn’t mix. At first, the oil looked as if it would pull back; then it curled into itself, giving the appearance of thick churning black butter, foaming with hundreds, then thousands of tiny bubbles that formed and popped with astounding speed. The oil seemed to scream with the sounds of the now writhing liquid.

  “It’s too late—get them all in,” Jacob said.

  Jacob rapid fired, tossing the open bottles into the lake as fast as he could. Eve took bottles from the pack, spun off the caps, and launched them into the now boiling and turbulent surface of the lake. They heard the creatures on the far shore react, screaming in agony, somehow remotely affected by the liquid’s reaction to the chemical. As Jacob held the last bottle, he looked to the far side of the lake and saw them massing, running to get at them. Jacob took the last bottle and threw it deep into the lake.

  “That’s all of it; let’s move,” he said.

  The entire body of oil now churned and writhed like a boiling pot. Turning, Jacob could see that it was not localized. As he’d guessed, the liquid spread like a large organic skin—it was connected. The creek bed filled with the same bubbling froth, stretching down the channel. The waters of the larger lake were already turning over and seemed to explode from within.

  Jacob stared, mesmerized and fascinated in the way the liquid reacted to the dioxin. Stephens reached out and grabbed the back of his armor, pulling him up the embankment.

  “It’s time to go,” he shouted, just moments before rounds impacted the muddy bank around them. Jacob looked up and saw creatures on the opposite shore with rifles raised. Shots from higher ground let them know Rogers was engaging targets of his own. They needed to move back to the ambush site.

  Eve scrambled up the muddy bank on all fours then rolled to a knee and raised her rifle, taking a qu
ick shot. Jacob’s jaw dropped as a shooter on the far side of the lake tumbled back. She lowered the rifle and continued scrambling up the bank. Jacob moved behind her, gripping the blades of the tall grass to pull himself up. Soon they were out, moving fast to rejoin Rogers on the lake view trail. Jacob spotted him perched beside a tall tree while taking long shots, slowing the enemy as the team regrouped. They’d broken contact for the time being, but they knew—needed—the creatures to follow.

  Stephens ran to Rogers’s side and slapped him. “Move. We’re right behind you.”

  Rogers dipped his chin, peeled back from the tree, and moved toward the ambush site at a slow jog. Gunfire cracked far behind them in the distance. Sporadic, the Deltas were shooting carelessly into the unknown. Stephens stood silent, hearing it too. The man tried to catch his breath. “It’s panic fire,” Stephens whispered. “Seems the Deltas can be broken.” He put his hand on Eve’s back and guided her forward.

  They moved out quickly now, the sounds of the forest slowly coming alive all around them—rounds fired like a far off Fourth of July exhibition, branches snapping in the distance, the screaming and yelling, the echoes of feet impacting the forest floor as the things rallied for an offensive. Jacob felt his chest tighten with fear. He knew they were coming. It reminded him of the dark scenes in black and white movies when a lost patrol was alone in the Congo waiting on a violent native assault, drums beating in the night, scared men standing behind lit torches. Jacob felt his hand shaking and picked up his pace, wanting to be back with the rest of the team and off the trail.

  Eve led them to the split, following Rogers’ boot prints in the snow. They ran ahead, winding through the bottleneck they intended to draw the Deltas down. The trail was flanked by rows of buried bombs. Eve stopped and turned, looking at Jacob and Stephens. “Good luck, see you at the cabin.” She ran away, leaving them alone.