“Shh.” Sheryl Lee looked at him and placed a finger to her lips. “Billy’s still sleepin’.”
Rolling his eyes to the side, Rick saw the teenager curled into a ball tucked into a rear comer of the vehicle. The Californian looked back at his redheaded companion. “Charlie?”
“Outside for the past half hour or so.”
Rick untangled legs that ached with two kinks for each muscle and wiggled into the driver’s seat. Harsh sunlight filtered through the cedar limbs piled over the jeep’s windshield. “What time is it anyway?”
“Three,” Sheryl Lee answered while she did her best to stretch in the jeep’s cramped confines. “You look as bad as I feel.”
Rick shrugged. “It comes from good, clean living.” He smiled. In spite of the heat, the humidity, and the rigors of the past two days, Sheryl Lee remained the beautiful fiery-tressed angel who had greeted him aboard the Wanda Sue. “Care for a stroll?”
“I’ll be out in a little bit,” she said, managing a weak return to his smile. Her emerald eyes turned to the
windshield. She stared, her expression distant and removed. “I need some time to think.”
He didn’t press further, simply nodded, unzipped the jeep’s fabric door, and stepped outside. Squinting against the glaring sunlight, he found Charlie seated on the ground, half hidden among the furry branches of a clump of cedars. The older man looked up and waved a greeting.
Rick surveyed his surroundings. The bushy trees looked more dwarfed in daylight than they had in the morning grays. Once again he was struck by how thickly the cedars grew, like impenetrable walls of green.
He stretched and drew a deep breath. His nose wrinkled. The smell of the stunted trees was overwhelming in the moist heat, approximating the pungency of a cat’s litter box that hadn’t been changed in weeks.
“Whew!” He tried to shake away the odor. There was no escape.
“You’ll get used to it in a moment or two, I reckon.” Charlie chuckled. “That is, if it doesn’t kill you first.”
Rick grimaced. “I think it might be . . .”
The rest of his sentence was left unspoken. The high-pitched hum of approaching Visitor ships came from the west. Rick darted beside Charlie and squatted among the prickly limbs. Two low-flying skyfighters shot overhead.
“Dreamed they were buzzing us all day,” Rick said, stepping out to examine a cloudless sky.
“You weren’t dreamin’.” Charlie pulled a dry blade of grass from the ground and chewed on it. “They woke me four times today. And that’s the second time they’ve been over since I got up.”
“Same ships?”
“Hard to tell. Snakes don’t go in for markin’ their craft that much. But I’d lay odds it’s the same pair.” Charlie tugged the grass from his mouth, studied it a moment, then slipped it back between his lips. “They’re lookin’ for us, you know.”
“Yeah, I figured that out last night. They found the Wanda Sue and the skyfighter you brought down.” Rick turned back to his companion. “You’ve done a hell of a job keeping them off our backs so far.”
“Wish Ben Jennings was here to say that.” Charlie’s chest heaved and his head moved wearily from side to side. “If we can just hold out here ’til dark, we’ve got a chance of makin’ it into Fort Worth. With luck we just might be able to keep our hides in one piece while doin’ it.”
Rick pursed his lips. “Then you weren’t just talking last night when you said it was going to be tough.”
“I wasn’t bullin’ you, son,” Charlie said. “Things are liable to get a mite ticklish the moment we pull out of here.”
Rick’s gaze lifted back to the cloudless blue. “Ticklish” wasn’t the term he would have used—not with the Visitors swarming the sky in search of them. The truth was, he might very well die on this insane cross-Texas run, a fact that offered him no comfort.
“Either of you happen to think of bringin’ food along on this little jaunt?” Sheryl Lee’s head poked above the cedar limbs atop the jeep.
“Water’s in a couple canteens stuffed under the driver’s seat,” Charlie replied. “But I’m afraid I forgot to bring so much as a candy bar. If you ain’t particularly choosy, there’s some wild persimmons and a few ripe pecans down by the river. Not much, but it’ll stop your stomach from complainin’.”
“Feel like that stroll now, Surfer Boy?” The young woman looked at Rick.
“Why not?” He shrugged. “Let me get my weapons.”
Walking back to the jeep, he ducked inside and pulled the Uzi and energy pistol from the back. The pockets of Sheryl Lee’s khaki jump suit were already weighted with the two pistols she carried.
“You two be careful,” Charlie called after them as they started eastward through the cedar break. “It’s still warm and this is copperhead country.”
Rick warily glanced about him. “I thought Texas had rattlesnakes.”
“And copperheads, water moccasins, and coral snakes.” Sheryl Lee grinned. “Not to mention a variety of poisonous spiders, cougars, wolves, bears, and bobcats. But don’t worry, Surfer Boy, I won’t let you get snake bit. However, if it comes to any of the others, you’re on your own.”
“Great.” He couldn’t tell whether she was just stating a fact or was taking advantage of a gullible greenhorn.
The cedar break gave way to a dense forest of stunted gnarled trees Sheryl Lee called red oaks and a profusion of underbrush that seemed to have but one thing in common—thorns. Picking a path of least resistance, they walked a half mile before coming to a swollen, muddy stream perhaps twenty feet from one bank to the other. Trees, real trees, not the overgrown shrubs Rick had seen since the Wanda Sue had crashed, grew thick and green along the banks.
“The Brazos River.” Sheryl Lee waved a hand at the brown current of water.
“I thought things were big in Texas.” Rick eyed the stream. “Do you call lakes oceans?”
An expression of disgust on her face, Sheryl Lee perused the vegetation along the bank. “There’s the persimmons Charlie mentioned. And this is a pecan tree.”
Charlie had understated the case when it came to the pecans. Neither Rick nor Sheryl Lee found one mature enough to eat. Rick dubiously eyed the brown-black ball the redhead handed him and tasted the giant marble-sized wild persimmon only after the young woman took the first bite. The brown pulpy fruit was a warm, tasteless sweet—more pit than meat. However, after ten of them his stomach did stop its rumbling.
“Not exactly Charlie’s steak and eggs, is it?” Sheryl Lee spat a pit to the ground. “Better than nothing, I guess.”
“It’ll have to do until we reach your friends in Fort Worth.” Rick picked a double handful of the persimmons and stuffed them into an empty jacket pocket.
A frown darkened Sheryl Lee’s face. Rick stared at her. “Anything the matter?”
“My friends are in Dallas. And they’re expecting the medical supplies to arrive by air, not in pickup trucks,” she started, then fell silent.
The whine of Visitor ships came from the sky. Grabbing Sheryl Lee’s arm, Rick tugged her beneath the pecan tree’s leafy boughs. Above, two skyfighters slowly skimmed the top of the stunted forest. They disappeared on an eastward course, but the hum of their engines hung in the air.
“Something’s up.” Rick’s mind raced, imagining a hundred disastrous scenarios. “Wait here.”
Cautiously he crept from under the pecan and worked around a dense clump of red oaks. A half mile northeast of the river the two alien ships hovered in midair.
“What is it?” Sheryl Lee abandoned the pecan tree and moved to his side. He didn’t answer. She saw the skyfighters and asked, “What are they doin’?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Rick stared at the two ships. “They’re north of the camp. If they spotted ...”
The skyfighters sank toward the ground. The forest swallowed their white segmented bodies. The whine of the gravity-defying engines died.
“Rick, they did
sight the camp!” Sheryl Lee’s hand closed around his arm and squeezed. “We’ve got to warn the others!”
The Californian didn’t argue or mention that she had called him by name for the first time since they met. Instead, he ran at her side as she darted through the tangle of vines and undergrowth toward the cedar break.
A cry—a human cry—rent the woods. The thunderous blast of a shotgun drowned the cry.
“God! They’ve found the camp.” Panic tightened the young woman’s voice when they reached the edge of the cedar break.
Rifle and shotgun reports echoed constantly now, leaving no doubt that the convoy of pickup trucks had been discovered and was now under attack.
Rick found their own tracks leading from the cedars and motioned to his companion. “We won’t do any good rushing in there. We have to take it slow and easy—see if we can maneuver behind the snakes. Keep low. ”
With that, he entered the closely packed trees. Sound rather than sight guided his movements. Even amid the bark of rifles and shotguns, he could discern the harsh sizzle of discharged energy bolts.
“I can’t see anything but trees,” Sheryl Lee whispered. “Dammit, we should be right on top of the fightin’!”
He agreed. But the cedars grew so close it was impossible to see either man or alien.
Another human scream wailed.
“There!” Rick saw an overall-clad farmer drop from behind a bushy wall of green.
The man writhed at the edge of a sandy clearing, hands clutching his stomach. Three quick bursts of blue-white erupted from the opposite side of the clearing and lanced into the moaning rancher like spears of light. The wounded man jerked spasmodically, then lay dead still.
Jerking the Uzi to shoulder height, the resistance fighter pointed the barrel at the barrier of branches hiding the source of blasts. His finger squeezed the trigger. Splintered green and brown flew into the air when the twenty-round burst tore into the cedars.
And a scream—an alien scream—mingled with the rifle reports. A red-uniformed, helmeted shock trooper staggered into the sandy opening between the cedars. Two moist blossoms of blood spread along the left sleeve of his uniform. He swayed from side to side, his energy rifle raised to face an invisible enemy.
The crackle of unleashed power came from Rick’s side. Sheryl Lee stood and fired. The bolts from her stolen weapon struck straight and true. A hissing death cry tore from behind the black face mask of the shock trooper’s helmet. The alien soldier’s body flew across the clearing under the impact of the blasts.
In the next instant Sheryl Lee ducked. Red flashed to her left, then blue-white. Searing balls of energy, like fiery pearls, hissed through empty air.
The Visitor volley received a double-barreled reply. No more than five feet from where Rick had seen the patch of red uniform, a 12-gauge shotgun opened up with both barrels blazing yellow and blue.
There was no death scream this time. The alien body that crumpled to the ground had no head.
“Got one of the bastards!” a woman called out. “That’s two of the—”
A barrage of energy beams coming from three directions sliced into the cedars, homing in on the voice that changed into a bloody scream. Deer rifles from as many sources answered the Visitor attack.
“Sweet Jesus,” Rick hissed through clenched teeth as he emptied the Uzi and snapped in another clip. “This is sheer chaos. Charlie and the others are scattered through the trees.”
“So are the Visitors.” Sheryl Lee was on her stomach, peering beneath the busy branches of the cedars. “Which means the lizards are just as confused as we are. Come on, we aren’t doing any good here.”
On her belly the redhead crawled forward between one of the cedars. Rick dropped to the ground and wiggled beside her. It wasn’t the most graceful position he had ever been in, but at the moment, with human and alien ready to shoot anything that moved, it was the safest.
Together they reached another of the sandy clearings.
To their left Rick saw mounds of cedar limbs concealing two pickups. Barrels of deer rifles poked through the cut branches.
“To the right.” Sheryl Lee nudged his side and tilted her head toward the opposite side of the clearing. “There at the base of the trees.”
A humorless smile played at the comers of the Californian’s mouth. He sighted a pair of black boots and the red uniform tucked into their tops.
“Bring him out and I’ll take him.” Sheryl Lee lifted her energy pistol.
Rick complied. He squeezed the machine pistol’s trigger, spraying the Teflon-coated bullets in a low, tight-knit pattern. Sheryl Lee never got the opportunity to fire. When the Visitor burst from his hiding place, three deer rifles blazed. The shock trooper’s face mask exploded in a shower of dark splinters as slugs of lead sought vulnerable reptilian flesh beneath.
“Human scum!”
A feral hiss-growl came from behind Rick. He rolled onto his back. A shock trooper stood five feet away, energy rifle raised and ready.
The young resistance fighter reacted rather than thought. Shoving Sheryl Lee aside, he rolled in the opposite direction. The alien’s weapon sizzled. Searing heat fused the sand where he had lain but a fraction of a second ago.
As he landed on his back for a second time, he wrenched the Uzi high. His trigger finger squeezed. The machine pistol’s firing pin clicked on an empty chamber.
Before he grasped what happened, the deafening thunder of an exploding shotgun came from the Visitor’s left. At the same time, Sheryl Lee opened up with her energy pistol.
There was no escape from the crossfire of buckshot and deadly bolts. The reptilian warrior’s body was lifted from the ground and thrown into five cedars behind him. When he dropped, it was never to rise again.
“That’s four of the bastards.” Charlie Scoggin pushed through thick limbs with a still-smoking shotgun in his hands. “There’s four more—”
A volley of shots and a barrage of energy bolts sounded north of the clearing. Both human and alien yowls of anguish filled the air.
“Maybe less now,” Charlie finished as he shrugged and disappeared back into the cedars.
Rick reached for another clip and found only wild persimmons in his pocket. Tossing away the now useless machine pistol, he stood, scooped the dead shock trooper’s rifle from the ground, and darted after the older man. Sheryl Lee ran at his heels.
Another exchange of gunfire came ahead of them and more screams.
Fifty feet from the sandy clearing, they found the reason. Two snakes had pinned down five men and women behind three of the pickups. A third Visitor lay dead at his companions’ feet.
Charlie pumped a fresh round into his shotgun and raised the weapon. Rick’s hand shot up and pulled the barrel downward.
“We’d do more good if we circled around and took them from behind,” he said.
Sheryl Lee and Charlie nodded. This time they followed the young Californian as he led them in a wide curving path through the dense cedars. When he stopped, he eased aside the thick branches ahead of him. The two aliens were ten feet away.
Neither shock trooper knew what hit him when two stolen energy weapons and one shotgun poked through the bushy foliage and spoke.
“That’s seven,” Charlie spat. Then he called out to those in the caravan. “There’s one left! Fan out and keep your eyes peeled for the snake. And for the love of God, don’t go snootin’ each other!”
A rustle of parting branches came from behind the trio. Rick spun around. A shock trooper strode through the cedars. His rifle’s muzzle lifted, homing in on Sheryl Lee’s back.
Again the young man reacted rather than thought. Throwing his shoulder into the redhead’s side, he sent the woman sprawling to the ground.
A blast of blue-white seared over his left hip, scorching the fabric of his blue jeans as he tumbled in the cedars after Sheryl Lee. Falling, he jerked up the barrel to his rifle, pointed in the general direction of the shock trooper, and fired.
The shock trooper’s rifle exploded. In a heartbeat an actinic ball of sizzling white flared, grew, enveloped the alien, and dissipated, leaving a charred, smoldering corpse in its wake.
Rick disentangled himself from Sheryl Lee and pushed to an elbow, his mouth gaping.
“Rick?” Sheryl Lee sat up beside him.
Her arms encircled him as she stared in horror. Beneath the khaki coveralls, shivers of fear and relief quaked through her body. His own arm moved about her slender waist to gently draw her trembling body to his. He turned, his eyes meeting emerald gems that revealed a terror he had never seen in their sparkling inner light.
“Close.” Her whisper was a shaky quaver. “I didn’t even hear him.”
“Shh. It’s over now.” His head tilted and he lightly kissed her quivering lips. “It’s over, and we’ve come through it in one piece again.”
She managed a weak smile as her mouth rose to him once again, lips lightly brushing then clinging to his.
Somewhere in the distant background, Rick heard Charlie grunt, “Eight.”
Chapter 16
Rick tried to push aside the image of eight bodies laid beneath the overhanging branches of three stunted cedars. He couldn’t. The price the farmers and ranchers had paid to protect the medical supplies had been high. For each Visitor killed, one of them had fallen.
“It don’t make sense, Rick.” Charlie brushed aside a furry branch, stepped between two cedars, and proceeded northward. “We’re still outside the Visitors’ safe zone. The red dust should have killed the snakes the moment they stepped out of the skyfighters. ”
“I know.” Rick shook his head. “It should have handled the two in the skyfighter you shot down on the Caprock, but it didn’t.”
“It just don’t make sense—and it cost us eight good men and women! Dammit, that’s what hurts the most! Those are my neighbors lay in’ dead back there. They were my friends!” Anger and pain railed in the older man’s voice. Agony twisted the features of his thin face.
V 11 - The Texas Run Page 11
