by R. Malak
Brushing off Cora’s furious glare, Jess picked up the ham radio. “Come in Alpha, reading you loud and clear, over.”
“…..Epsilon, we have reports of incoming hostiles moving towards your locale, over.”
Jess gave a worried glance towards Joseph, who immediately moved to the window to look out.
She brought the radio back up to her lips. “Roger that Alpha, please advise.”
“Copy that Epsilon, HQ requests all operations be terminated till further notice, out.”
“Wilco, out.”
Jess stood and joined Joseph by the window. “See anything?”
Shrugging his shoulders, he pointed towards a dust cloud that was forming in from the distance. “Could be trouble?”
The dust cloud was moving way too fast to be natural. Something was coming.
“Get everyone into the underground bunker.”
Joseph nodded and galloped out of the room.
“We’re going to have to cut this reunion short,” she said.
She opened her desk drawer and pulled out her 9mm pistol and shoved it into the back of her pants, before hitting a red button underneath the desk. A loud voice rang out over the speakers.
“ATTENTION, ATTENTION, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO UNDERGROUND BUNKER.”
“ATTENTION, ATTENTION, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO UNDERGROUND BUNKER.”
“ATTENTION, ATTENTION, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO UNDERGROUND BUNKER.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Follow me, we don’t have much time.”
Her sister, woozy from losing too much blood, stumbled towards the doorway, clutching her torso, blood seeping out from the cloth wrapped around her wound.
She quickly addressed her sister’s companion. “You’d better carry her, soldier. That wound doesn’t look too good.”
Cora opened her mouth to object, but Soren swept her off her feet anyway. Cora struggled for a moment in his arms before passing out.
Jess, seeing her sister was taken care of, immediately led the way back out into the corridor, which was slowly filling up with confused rangers in brown cloaks.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Are we really under attack?”
“Have reinforcements been sent?”
Holding her hand up, she waited until they were all silent before speaking, “We have received a radio transmission from Alpha station alerting us to a possible threat, as a precaution we have been told to lay low.” She looked at each one of them in the eye. “You all know the drill, gather all essential items and head to the underground bunker. Move it!”
Reassured by her words, the men dispersed immediately to complete their assigned tasks.
Jess pressed on as there was no time to waste. She had to get the tunnel open and the ventilation system working. Passing through empty office rooms and desks laden with dust, they headed to the back of the police station. Light shone in through windows and holes punched in the walls. The blaring alarm resounding up and down the corridors died away to be replaced by the faint sound of gunfire and explosions. A young ranger, newly recruited sporting a thin mustache, sprinted down the hallway. Panting for breath, the young lad came to a screeching halt in front of her.
“Ma’am, the damn Porkies have brought tanks with them. I saw them as I was coming down from the roof,” he gasped out in between short intakes of breath.
Jess’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the news, Orcs? Advancing with tanks? They despised human weaponry. It didn’t matter now, mostly because the bunker could withstand anything short of an atomic bomb. Waving her hand to dismiss the young warrior, she shouldered her way through the tight doorway, when an explosion rocked the entire building. Cracks appeared in the ceiling and dust filled the air.
Coughing from the raining dust, she pushed open a metal panel to the left of the exit and input her password ****(LIVE), the carpeted floor splitting open right down the middle to reveal a huge tunnel leading into an underground vault with metallic walkways.
“Go, take Cora inside, I’ll follow you as soon as my men get inside.”
Soren hesitated for a brief second, before shrugging his wide shoulders and heading in alone.
More explosions rocked the police station, forcing her to grab onto the door to stop herself from falling. Walls collapsed inwards and parts of the ceiling were giving way. It wouldn’t be long now before the entire station crumbled apart. Rangers in dust-covered coats scrambled past her, making their way into the tunnel, nodding their heads as they passed her by. Jess watched and waited, hoping Joseph would hurry. The ceiling above her was beginning to crack under the pressure.
Reeling from another explosion, she weighed the risk of waiting against the lives of the men inside the tunnels, when she saw the familiar figure of Joseph racing towards her with four rangers tagging along close behind. Smiling with relief, she waved at them to hurry. Fragments of the ceiling crashed down around them, the pulsing sound of heavy machine gun fire ripping through the walls, forcing the men to duck their heads down as they ran into the bunker. Jess followed, but then the ceiling collapsed and all went dark.
FIVE
“Tally, if you’re listening, I won’t be able to make it over to you. Your Mother hurt herself pretty bad jumping the barbed wire fence. *voice cracks* I can’t leave her on her own…I’m sorry. I’ll try to come as soon as she feels better, stay safe Tally.”
“Sorry, the person you are calling right now is unavailable, please call back later or leave a ten second message after the beep……beeeep
…..Two days later…..
“Thank god, your mother is starting to look much better. Tonight, I’m leaving to go find you, if you can hear these messages please stay where you are. I’m coming.”
“Sorry, the person you are calling right now is unavailable, please call back later or leave a ten second message after the beep……beeeep”
~ * ~
“This is an emergency message from the United Nations Military. All men and women of fighting age are hereby conscripted into the United Nations Military and are required to report in for active duty. Those who refuse to fight and defend their world will be executed as traitors. This message will repeat.”
“This is an emergency message from the United Nations Military. All men and women of fighting age are hereby conscripted into the United Nations Military and are required to report in for active duty. Those who refuse to fight and defend their world will be executed as traitors. This message will repeat.”
~ * ~
Location: Hillsboro, Year 2053
His wife lay in bed wearing a nightgown. Blood soaked sheets at piled up at the edge of the bed, her left leg wrapped up in clean white bandages. She was deep asleep, her tiny snub nose wiggling every now again with irritation. Her dark-brown hair splayed out to either side of her. Leaning forward, he kissed her sweaty forehead gently and turned to leave. Pausing at the doorway, he e took one last look at her, capturing everything about her into his memory, before walking out the bedroom door.
His younger son Josh had his room right across the hall from them. Fingers resting softly on the doorknob, he slowly turned it so as not to disturb him. His son, a little over nine-years-old was tucked up in a sports car bed with posters of his hero John Cena plastered up on all four walls. Half-smiling with fondness at the way he clutched his blanket to him, he walked over to his bed, and kissed him on his chubby little cheek. His unshaved beard causing him to rub his face and shift in bed, clutching his blankie even tighter.
Final goodbyes done, he left his house and stalked the silent streets, the streetlamps above him flickering on and off. Detecting footsteps coming his way, he ducked in between a pair of trash cans set on the side of the road, just as a patrol of heavily armed guards passed his home. Patiently he waited for them to pass him by, before continuing along the street, sticking to the shadows whenever he could. At the end of the street were two armored mili
tary vehicles and a barbed wire fence blocking off all access to the roads. Ten to fifteen men patrolled the perimeter wearing the newly designed light metal plate body armor and the modified Steyr Aug assault rifle. Attached to each of the soldiers left ears a rectangular optical lens, which, if the T.V ads were correct, possessed heat-seeking capabilities. Best to avoid them if he could, especially considering the recent news of conscription.
He thought about trying to climb the fence again when they weren’t looking, but soon dismissed the idea. Too many eyes were watching the spot, his family had tried to escape through a few days back. His eyes shifted to the house at the far end of the street, near the barbed wire fence, if he could climb onto the roof maybe… hearing heavy footsteps closing in on him. He raced silently in between the two houses into the backyard.
“I think I saw something,” called a hard voice from behind him.
Weaving his way through the messy backyard full of discarded toys, he climbed up on top of a couch nestled against the side of the house, where a barbecue stood and clambered up onto the rooftop. Slowly and carefully crouching down, he edged his way towards the barbed wire fence with the tiles jiggling slightly with each step. Reaching the edge, he took a deep breath and leapt over the fence, wincing as one of barbed wires nicked his knee on the way down. Upon landing, he tucked his head in and rolled to soften the jarring impact.
Shoulders, chest and head sore from the fall, he gingerly began walking away, when he heard shouts, “Heat signature spotted! All guard to your posts! Move it!”
Gunshots whizzed past him. Sprinting, he ran towards the local store across the street and leapt through its shattered glass screen window, landing on shards of glass. Groaning, he limped quickly to the back of the store, leaned on the doorway and removed the pieces of glass that had managed to cut through his thick soled work boots.
Having worked here most of his life as a teenager, he knew Lukas kept a pistol behind the counter underneath the register in case of robberies. With the voices of soldiers barking orders growing louder with each passing second. He made his way over to counter, pushed through the mini door and leaned down to click on a tiny red button. A panel slid open, revealing a magnum revolver, a cartridge box of .38 special and a key. He slipped the gun and cartridge into his coat pocket and hobbled over to the back door labeled emergency exit. Inserting the key into the lock, he twisted it until he heard a click that opened the door. Then hurried out of the deserted store and into the back-alleyway.
A military Humvee with a machine gun on top rolled past the shop with its huge spotlight flooding the store with light.
“This is the United Nations Military! Come out with your hands up!”
Grimacing, he limped away from the blaring voice on the speakers and ran across another street. Moving swiftly, he walked three blocks down and entered the backyard. He searched the small backyard for the basement door and moved towards it. Praying Grey’s information was correct, he knocked on the door once then three times in quick succession, then after a brief pause twice more. Rubbing his fingers together nervously he waited, hoping his contact would hurry. He thought he could hear the rumble of the Humvee’s engine as it made its way along the street searching for him.
The door opened slowly revealing an obese heavily bearded man with a sawed-off shotgun in his hands. The man stared at him with piercing black eyes. “Pazzwort.”
Jay, assuming he meant password, replied, “Death is no stranger.”
The big man grunted and moved back from the doorway to let him pass. He stepped down the small set of steps into the dimly lit basement full of old discarded furniture. Unsure where to go, he looked at the man, who pointed towards the door at the rear. He heard the basement door close behind him. No turning back now, he thought grimly and limped over to the door on the other side of basement and pushed it open. The door creaked open and he immediately felt the cold touch of gun barrel pressed against his temple.
“Password,” growled a harsh voice.
“Death is no stranger,” he repeated.
The gun left his temple and he breathed again. A glance later, he realized the room was crowded with people, many of whom he knew. There was Roland, a tall thin man with spectacles, Kara, a petite young woman with long black hair, and Gregory, a police officer who still wore his blue uniform.
The young man with the gun moved away from him like nothing had happened, settling on the seat beside the door, looking bored.
Kara, noticing his entrance, squealed as she waltzed over to him: “Jay is that you? Wow, you look so different with a beard.”
Connor the local butcher a kindly old man smiled nervously at him. “It’s good to see you Jay.”
“You too, old friend”
Kara with a venomous glare at the old man, wrapped her arm through his and dragged him away. “Don’t waste your time with that old coward, come, you must meet my friends.”
Uncomfortable with her familiarity and strange cheerfulness, he tried to slip out of her arm hold, but she refused to let go of him.
She led him to the corner of room where two well-dressed men in business suits stood quietly chatting with one another. “Tony. Peter. I would like you to meet our local hero Jay Hendry.”
Peter, a young clean-shaven man wearing a good deal of cologne, twisted his lips at the word hero. “And what exactly did he do to deserve that title, may I ask?”
Kara’s smile widened at the question. “I’m surprised you don’t know Peter, he won the bronze medal in shooting three years back at the Olympic games.”
Tony smirked, and gave Peter a wry smile and snidely remarked, “Couldn’t come in first, could we?”
Jay, used to dealing with such self-serving pricks, slipped out of Kara’s hold, teetering laughter following his every step.
He could honestly say he didn’t care what they thought of him. There was only one reason he was here.
He joined Connor, who threw him a tired smile. “I see you have met our illustrious friends.”
Jay chuckled dryly. “How’s Jenny?”
Connor’s smile disappeared as quickly as it came, his wrinkled face crumpling. “She…she’s dying Jay, the cancer is eating her up.”
“I’m so sorry Connor, I had no idea.”
Connor shook his head. “It’s not your fault lad.” He gazed up at him with bleary green eyes. “You heading out to look for yer boy?”
Jay nodded his head.
“Good. Things will only get worse from here on out.”
Watching the news for the past couple of weeks had underscored the truth of Connor’s word. All he ever heard about was how the army was struggling to contain this new threat.
Hearing the door creak open, he swiveled around just in time to see six heavily armed mercenaries in what he assumed was stolen military equipment stomp into the room.
A huge man with bulging muscles, ivory yellow skin and small almond shaped eyes stared around him, his hands folded behind his back and spoke in a booming voice used to giving commands, “Listen up! My name is Jackson, tomorrow at dawn, we leave and make our way out of the safe zone, if you’re afraid to leave and want to go home, now is your only chance.”
He paused to fix them all with a threatening stare. Seeing no one budge, he continued with a heavy intake of breath. “My rules are simple.”
He stuck up one finger. “One, you will not ask me any questions, unless I say so.”
He held up two fingers. “Two, you will obey every instruction from me and my men. And three, do not fall behind, because you will be left behind!” He gave a nasty smile and snarled, “Time to pay up.”
Jackson motioned for his men fan out into the group of people, who began pulling out their wallets and purses.
Jay did not like the look of these men; they were hard men, with chiseled faces, scars, and tattoos inked on their cheeks. But that’s not what bothered him. He had this strange gut feeling telling him that these men would like nothing more than to hurt somethi
ng, just for the fuck of it.
One of the mercenaries, a wiry man with green hair and a tattoo of a lion mauling a tiger on the side of his face stepped in front of him and held out a bag.
“Money.”
Jay removed the envelope full of cash from his back pocket and handed it to the man, who brushed past him without so much as an apology, almost knocking him against the wall. Connor, seeing the push gave a non-reassuring shrug of the shoulder, as if to say that’s the way the world is right now. And Jay would have had to agree. This was their only way to get past the barricades and blockades the military had set up.
Done collecting money, the men handed over the bags of cash to the big guy that he had seen guarding the front entrance. He took the bags of cash and left the room.
Jackson grinned, highlighting his almost skull-like features. “Once Jeff is done counting the money, we’ll leave. ’Till then, get some sleep.”
With that, the mercenary leader stomped out of room with his men close on his heels.
As soon as they were gone, Connor released a huge sigh of relief. “I do not like the look of those lads.”
“I don’t like the look of them either.”
Hearing the worry in Jay’s voice, Connor gripped him by the shoulder. “Don’t you worry lad, it will all work out in the end, I’m sure you will be reunited with your boy soon enough.”
Jay hoped so, as it was there was too much that was uncertain about the world right now. Sometimes it felt like everything he knew and loved was crumbling away him.
He took a deep breath to rid himself of the despair he felt growing in the pit of his stomach and nodded his head in thanks to the old timer for his comforting words. Turning his head, he searched the room for a spot to sleep for the night. And to his surprise, he found the mercenaries had left behind a pile of sleeping bags by the doorway. Taking one of the rolled-up bags, he headed to an empty corner, laid out the sleeping bag, and tried to get some sleep.
