Rising, Novacek began to run, darting around rocks, stopping shortly and then running again. The enemy fire was trailing him as he made a leaping dive across an exposed gap. The pulse of a handgun ripped across his right leg’s quad muscle. In pain, he leaned his back against a shielding boulder. Removing his belt, he tied off the bleeding leg.
The sound of crunching gravel told him that the enemy was right behind him. Picking up his sidearm, he rolled over into the open gap through which he had leapt, firing blind.
Standing directly before him was the leathered looking alien. A lucky shot caught the alien in the knee. It exploded, spurting his blood onto the ground. As he teetered in surprise, Novacek rolled again, onto his back.
The alien’s weapon discharged, hitting the just vacated ground. Upon his back, Novacek’s gun blazed, firing shot after shot. Hitting the genitalia, at least where it would have been on a human, he cut a clean hole through the alien torso. The alien tottered and then fell in a clump of sinewy meat, flesh and bone atop Novacek.
The corpse exposed and severed entrails spilled out like unwinding coils, covering his chest. Wriggling out from beneath the pulp, the squalled stench of rancid seawater fogged Novacek’s senses, nauseating him. He searched for a spot of clean sleeve with which to wipe the alien tissue from his face. There was none. With his hands covered in blue-gray blood and bits of slimy gray-white tissue, he did his best to clear his vision.
Hidden behind the boulder, the choking stench of the alien settling deep into his sinus cavities, he heaved his guts out upon the corpse. Amid the act of vomiting, he felt a giddy elation over his good aim.
His stomach emptied, he looked up to see the lone sharpshooter still hard at work.
Struggling to his feet, his injured leg reluctantly supporting him, he hobbled his way up the backside of the mountain.
Stepping round a boulder, he stumbled upon the body of a young woman. The blast had removed her face, killing her instantly. A fleeting thought told him to check her tags and see who it was—but time didn’t permit that luxury. As he rose, continuing on, he felt strengthened by the valiant fight the crew was putting forth.
At the top, the startled sniper almost fired at Novacek as he came hobbling around the boulder behind him. The sniper’s uniform was shred from the fragments of exploding boulders. His nose and mouth were trickling blood as was his forehead. His hands displayed multiple, deep lacerations. Novacek was surprised that the young man was able to still hold the heavy weapon, let alone keep it steady.
“Commander! Morgan’s alive but his foxhole is covered by a boulder. I couldn’t move it.”
Novacek saw that the large boulder would be too heavy for even the two of them to lift. Suddenly, out through a slit slid the rifle.
Taking it, Novacek fought through the pain, staggering over to a good vantage point from which he could shoot. The scope homed-in like a powerful telescope on the last assault vehicle, the cross hairs highlighting the small Cobra symbol on its side. In tandem, the rifles opened up, destroying it. The loss of the enemy’s heavy artillery bought them some time.
The firefight had started a dozen fires burning in the forest below. A light haze of smoke was clouding the air.
Shifting to better positions, Novacek and the sniper concentrated on the aliens below. Their eagle-eyed view of the many small firefights below became the needed advantage. The tide turned quickly as in the game of positioning, the balance of power shifted. In fifteen minutes, they were mopping up the last of the enemy forces that had not retreated.
Novacek knew that the battle was far from being over, for another large wave stood at the ready, waiting to attack. It was also painfully clear that Novacek’s crew didn’t have the physical numbers, strength, or energy to repel them again.
With more willpower than brute strength, several men worked to free the trapped sniper from beneath the boulder. As the boulder rolled aside, they all caught a whiff of the odor that permeated the hole. For the liberated crewmember, it was a moment of embarrassment, though no one so much as hinted at having noticed.
***
With the sun about to rise, Steven and Ashlyn quickly made their way back to camp in a race to beat the others before they woke, stopping only briefly to retrieve Ashlyn’s clothes where she had left them. They almost made it.
Private Smith was just waking, “Is it too impolite for me to ask where-” His eyes suddenly rose. Steven and Ashlyn turned following his gaze. Behind them, a fighter was streaking away to the northwest.
“It’s heading toward Novacek’s base camp,” said Steven, his thoughts fearing for Phillip. He was now more anxious than ever to get to their destination. His son’s life might depend on it. “Rise and shine grunts. Grab your gear; we’ll be eating on the move.” Ten minutes later, pack loads evenly distributed, Steven directed everyone’s attention to the two mountains on the horizon that marked their destination. The peaks were twenty, maybe even twenty-five kilometers away to the southeast and were the tallest in a long mountain chain that stretched as far as they could see. After topping off the canteens, “Let’s go. It’s time to put some calluses on those feet!”
Leaving the security of fresh water behind, they headed inland.
With each step, a thin layer of hard sand crunched underfoot, easing the stress on their legs and enabling them to keep a quick pace. Logic told Steven that eons ago the entire region had been an inland lake or sea. He could smell the salt in the air, taste it upon his lips.
It didn’t take long to realize that they should have waited until the next nightfall to begin the trek. The heat soon became extreme and they were forced to take shelter, if for no other reason than to conserve water. Lying low, behind the cornice of a large dune, they hid in its sliver of a shadow.
The day passed slowly, their bodies perspiring water at a frighteningly fast pace.
As the suns set, Steven made note of the first appearing stars in relation to the distant mountains. The tri-moons provided more than enough light for traveling and the cool air was refreshing.
None of them had forgotten about the creatures that lived beneath the sand either. It was a constant concern.
Seven hours later, just as the twin suns were rising, they reached the mountain’s base. A sparse tree line stretched half way up the mountain’s 7,400-meter peak.
Stopping beneath the covering shade of trees, they gave their backs a break from the heavy packs.
“You know, if it wasn’t for the fact that the leaves are purple and the bark dark red, I’d think I was back in Oregon, before the attack. It’s almost nostalgic,” said Maria.
“Look at the size of this flower,” said Richardson, smelling it. His body stiffened and he fell to the ground convulsing. Smith reached him first and putting his head back, checked his airways. “His throat’s constricted.”
At his side, Steven flung open the med kit. Richardson’s skin was already mottled, purple. His eyes rolled back. Searching through the kit, Steven found it contained nothing for a toxic reaction. It only offered a simple inhaler for asthmatics. Sliding the mask over his nose and mouth, they squeezed the mixture into him, hoping it might open his airway. Unfortunately, the medic assigned to the team had been one of those killed at the falls.
“His heart’s stopped!” said Ashlyn as she started CPR. Removing the inhaler, Smith tried to force air into him. It was several minutes before they reluctantly stopped.
Richardson was given a traditional burial. A small, flat rock served as a marker, his dog tags lay atop it. Smith had been his best friend, and told the group that Richardson was of the Catholic faith. After a formal salute and a moment of reflective silence, the team quietly donned their packs and departed.
They took comfort walking in the cooler air and the shade of the trees that the mountains afforded them.
It was three days later, wiggling through the chain of interconnected valleys, the burial site far behind them, that they found a small spring. Most of their canteens were e
mpty, their rations low. Finding the spring was a great relief and gave them some time to make a small fire. Seated around it, the team finally began asking questions. “What’s so special about this symbol we’re going to?” asked Maria.
“It’s just a theory. It may not be special at all. It’s still too early to know for sure.”
That night, lying on his blanket like he’d so often done as a kid, Steven watched the stars. He missed the familiar constellations, and it left him feeling very out of touch with his former life. It now seemed so very, long ago.
“Steven, what are you thinking about?”
“I don’t know—home—Earth.”
After a brief moment of silence. “Steven—I know you’ll never stop loving her. If we ever find a way home, it would only be right for all of you to be a family again. Somehow, we’ll find a solution.”
Steven turned his head, looking at her—feeling blessed to have her.
Chapter 15
“Sir, there’s more transports arriving, and they’ve brought an air escort.”
Novacek knew it was coming, “Yeah, they know what they are up against now. Withdraw all of our teams inside. Have each team leave a pair of flares at their current position. I want them to think we aren’t backing down.”
“Sir?” said the midshipmen before departing, “Why the ground assault? Why not just wipe us out with a ship or missile?”
Novacek had asked the question a hundred times himself as well. “I don’t have a logical answer. They’ve been throwing their forces at us like cannon fodder. It’s a waste of resources and life.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” said the young midshipmen.
“Your right. It doesn’t,” answered Novacek. “Maybe it’s just dumb arrogance.” On the other hand, maybe he wants something.
Within minutes, the enemy ground forces had taken an aggressive posturing that alluded to an all-out charge on both the southern and western fronts. Overhead, fighters were making high altitude flybys, running scans to determine their numbers. Novacek assumed the Nephilim were aware of the spiders’ existence, it was the only explanation for why they weren’t using the cover of darkness to get into position.
Within minutes, the attack began. The mountain tottered as the long-range guns pummeled it. The interior of the cavern’s structure weakened minute by minute. Huddled along the cavern walls, the crew fought for every breath as all around them, rocks and boulders of all sizes fell from the ceiling, crashing into the river and onto the cavern floor. It would have been easier to try and breathe through a handful of mud.
Though he was barely inside the tunnel entrance, Novacek could hear the echoing screams of those who were being injured or killed in the cavern below. Nevertheless, he had to wait.
Once the enemy attack stopped, he was ready to move. “Quick, bring the cannon out!” shouted Novacek to his team.
Outside, the mountain looked like a barren, burned asteroid. What vegetation there was, had been blasted or burned away. The devastated forest below was no better off. The smoldering flames and smoke carried the squalid stench of burned spiders.
As the team set up the cannon, through the binoculars, Novacek saw that thousands of troops were closing in on the western front.
“Sir, above us!”
Novacek looked up, and saw two fighters hovering 300 meters above them. Through his binoculars, Novacek believed he saw an infrared scanner array on the belly of each craft. The hair on his neck stiffened as he realized they were using his heat signature to mark the entrance to the cave.
“Cannon ready,” said Stratton.
“Leave me three plasma rockets, then get the team and the box of rockets inside!” Novacek set the rocket’s timers for 8 seconds, 6 seconds, and the last for 4 seconds. He could feel the enemy encroaching in the rocks below them. Kneeling beside the cannon, he tilted its nose directly upwards. A final check on the securement of the legs and he was ready.
Stratton took note, “Sir, it’s going to rain the plasma directly down on you!”
Novacek nodded. “Get inside, now.” Novacek’s hand hovered over the cannon’s launch tube, “Drop!”
He dropped the first of the small, black rockets into the tube. Hitting the bottom, it ejected six-hundred meters into the air with a hollow, resonant whoosh. He then dropped the second, then the third. Upon the last rocket’s release, Novacek grabbed the cannon and ran for the tunnel. The cannon’s hot exterior burned his hands as he tucked it under his arm. He dove the last two meters, landing inside the tunnel. As he hit the ground, the cannon landed beneath him. A stabbing pain told him that he’d broken a rib.
The three projectiles shot into the air exploding simultaneously.
Novacek rose and hefted the cannon over his shoulder, running deeper into the tunnel. The monstrous firestorm consumed the oxygen in the air, following it inside the tunnel entrance. He outran it by only a few meters.
Outside, it was an inferno. Everything within three kilometers of ground-zero was ablaze. The thousands of alien troops that had been nearly atop them were now nothing more than screaming, roman candles.
Far above, the hovering ships were floundering, their hulls engulfed in flames. The intense heat from the surrounding plasma overloaded their shields, allowing it to make direct contact with the fighter’s wings, hull and cockpit canopy. Seconds later, the fighters exploded, their fiery debris adding yet more fuel to the raging fire below.
“Stratt, when the flames subside enough, go outside and launch a volley of plasma grenades in a circular pattern around the entire mountain. Cover a full five-kilometer range. I want them to think twice before trying another attack.”
Forty-five minutes later, on the bluff outside, Stratton’s team searched the desert below. They watched as an air transport lifted-off, five kilometers away. As it moved to the south, Stratton merely pointed a finger and the two snipers cut loose, cutting a long, clean slice across the vehicle’s hull. The ship burst into flames doing a header to the desert floor.
On the ground, he could see that the attack force was regrouping in a large, sheltered ravine four klicks away. Following his orders, he used the cannon to lay down a massive ring of fire, targeting the ravine first.
***
The suns were riding low in the sky behind their backs, when Steven’s team rounded a bend in the trail and they froze in their tracks. Running between two opposing mountain peaks, four-kilometers apart was an immense wall. Like a mirror, the single sheet of flat, clear crystal, reflected the sky and surrounding terrain with near perfect clarity.
“Is it a dam?” asked Brummon.
“I don’t believe so,” said Steven.
“Sir, the map you drew for us didn’t display this landmark—yet you wiggled us perfectly through the mountain range—to find this?” said Tomlinson with curiosity. “How?”
“The answer is simple,” said Steven pulling a scanner out of his pack, holding it before him, “Tetrahedral constants. This wall is at 19.5 degrees, north of the ecliptic.”
“Of course!” said Ashlyn, a bit surprised that she hadn’t thought of it herself. Looking at the bewildered faces of the team, her excitement uncontainable, “There’s hundreds of tetrahedral constants. Some are natural, but the tetrahedral constant has been emulated in dozens of ancient artificial structures. The TC’s carry advanced knowledge within mathematical computations about torsion field physics. Take Giza or the Teotihuacan pyramids in Mexico. The Cydonia Monuments on Mars. They all have a 19.5 degree connection.”
Steven added, “Even the United Nations Headquarters on the Moon was at 19.5 degrees. That’s why they dedicated the Cen-Comm facility to Richard C. Hoagland. He preached about a science that few could understand. He was a scientist with a rare depth of vision. He believed that someone was trying to give us a message through the use of tetrahedral constants.”
Ashlyn, full of enthusiasm, built upon Steven’s explanation. “Yes, and he also talked about how almost every NASA and Chinese missio
n ever launched had a 19.5 connection. Hoagland called it, hyperdimensional physics.
“Okay, Professors,” said Maria teasingly to the two of them. “A message about what?” The look on her face completely blank.
Steven shrugged, “I think we’re about to find out,” said Steven contemplatively. Steven looked at Tomlinson, “I believe the map you found back in the tunnel is far more important than you realize. Ancient Sumerian cuneiform depicted the Sirius system as a double tetrahedron, same as the one on your map. To the Sumerians, the double tetrahedron represented a doorway, a gateway to their creators. A gateway to the gods. A Stargate.”
Everyone, including Ashlyn, stared at Steven, stunned.
“Great—how am I supposed to go to sleep tonight—knowing that I might be meeting God tomorrow? Hmm, what to wear?” said Paris, teasingly. “Ash, can I borrow that chain necklace bikini of yours?
Maybe he’s single.”
“Maybe he is, but you’re not,” said Tomlinson, possessively, yet teasingly.
Everyone laughed.
***
Next day, the team could hardly watch their steps as they stared at the magnificence of the structure. Steven pushed the team hard, but with darkness fast approaching and the physicality of the climb, the team grew tired. For their sake, he was forced to call them to a stop, just one kilometer short of the wall. The team was exhausted, and it took determination for them to even find the strength to unfurl their bedding.
As they had done back at the river, days before, after the others were asleep, Steven and Ashlyn left camp. They decided to take advantage of the strong allure of the wall as a place to have their rendezvous. Ashlyn had expressed the fact that she was in desperate need to have her craving fulfilled. So flashlights in hand and aided by the light of the moons, they set a quick pace up the valley trail.
The wall stood like a great monument, a soft, candlelight glow emanating from deep within its structure. Though it begged their attentions, their aroused desires were singularly focused.
EARTH'S LAST WAR (CHILDREN OF DESTINY Book 1) Page 26
