He spoke again in a mocking voice: "Yeah, send some of your guys here…send some more over here. That’s right, let’s go plug all the holes in the dike all at once. Our big unit that could have dished out damage was turned into a bunch of little units. We did stuff, but not nearly what we could have done. We wiped out a crap load of these, like, Indian fellows with spears and crap. I mean, they charged our tanks with spears! Can you believe that?"
Prescott shook his head at the morbid memory.
"Sometime around the fourth of July we ran into these big things. Christ-Jesus, they were bigger than cars and had teeth that kind of…God…reached out and grabbed you. They tore the turret off one of our tanks, you know? Must’ve killed twenty of our guys before we put them down with heavy shells. Pardon my French but they were straight from Hell, I think."
Shepherd and Brewer shared a glance.
"So anyway, then we start seeing organized things. I guess aliens, right? We get dive bombed by these strange planes and run into a bunch of lizards driving like these little tanks. Flames…lasers…crap like that. Blasted them, too. But they were really organized, and there were a lot of them. Spent a week or two fighting battles here and there with those things. Lost a lot of guys. We headed north, they didn’t follow."
Trevor did not ask all the questions he wanted to ask. For now. In time, Prescott could offer a wealth of information as to what lay beyond the valley walls.
"Sometime around late-July the dropped a couple of pallets of supplies for us. I think we were in Ohio around then. We were supposed to hook up with the Ohio National Guard. We got to where they were supposed to be and didn’t find anyone. Well, you know, any one alive."
Brewer asked, "What did you hear about the chain of command?"
Prescott snickered. "Oh we had tons of people yanking our chain of command. Most of our unit officers got torn up early on. We had a Colonel running our group for a few weeks until something swooped on down and carried him off. That’s when I took over. I started getting all sorts of stuff over the radio. One minute it’s the Governor of Missouri telling me what to do, then it’s the Governor-I mean, Lieutenant Governor — of Ohio. The Pentagon sent some orders. Hey, we had no rest and were running out of guys but we never ran out of orders."
Nina asked, "How’d the rest of the military do? What’d you hear?"
"Heard California was putting up a hell of a fight; dogfights in the skies over San Fran and big ground battles. The Air Force was kicking ass all over the country until they started running out of bases and fuel. After July, though, we weren’t hearing much. Rumor had it the top guns-you know the brass-got wiped out. Don’t know about that, though."
"Tell me mister Prescott, sir," Omar asked. "What about the President?"
Prescott scratched his head again as if the memories needed help coming forth.
"Well, I suppose you heard he got out of DC early on, right? The only thing I heard after that were some Pentagon folks saying he had lost freedom of movement. I guess they were having real trouble with communications and such. Point is, by August there was no President any more. No Congress. Nothing. Last I heard in September there were still a lot of army units fighting in California and the navy was out there doing some good, but otherwise there wasn’t any U.S. military any more. Same goes for overseas. The Russians got their asses kicked, or so I heard, but no details. As for us, we got torn apart little pieces at a time. Like piranha on an elephant, I suppose."
Shepherd nodded. "I figure we all guessed that’s how it went down."
Trevor said, "Couldn’t have happened any other way. I think the troops could have handled one big army dropping from the sky. Not the chaos, though. Not all at once."
"We had no warning, no time to prepare," Prescott gripped his fists tight. "When I look back, I can think of a thousand things I would have done different. I’ll tell you, I would have turned off my radio. What’s that they say? Yeah, too many chefs, you know?"
Stonewall said, "Perhaps, Mr. Prescott, divine providence has steered you through the shattered lands to this place where you can fight once again with a purpose."
The Major sighed and changed the subject. "Maybe. In the meantime, I suppose it’d be a good idea for Mr. Nehru here to take the engineers under his wing and put them to use."
"Oh my goodness yes," Omar beamed.
"That sounds like a plan," Trevor agreed but his thoughts already raced ahead with a flurry of ideas now that trained and armed soldiers had joined the estate. Nonetheless, one issue hung in the air. As the meeting broke, Trevor took Prescott aside.
"Major, there is something we need to talk about."
The soldier raised his hand.
"Don’t worry none. I’ve spent the last six months barely surviving and wasting a lot of men’s lives. I look ‘round here and, geez, you’ve been doing some damn fine work. So yeah, I know whose giving the orders."
– One day later, Trevor formed a council of advisors. Evan Godfrey’s enthusiasm for the move faded when Trevor eschewed elections and handpicked the members.
Ironically, Godfrey’s work in helping new arrivals earned him a spot on the council overseeing housing and needs. Trevor put Reverend Johnny in charge of medical concerns and appointed Brewer as the point man for combat issues (with Prescott assisting).
Dante-still out scouting-would head internal security. This met with grumbles but Trevor wanted Dante on that council; the man had a way of seeing both sides of coins, even if his background lay in computers, not policing. Trevor knew that his best law enforcement people-Shep and Nina-would be needed on the front lines, not on guard duty.
Trevor placed Lori Brewer in charge of resident tracking and convinced Eva Rheimmer to travel in from her farm periodically to discuss the food supply.
Finally, Omar would handle "Science and Technology".
At the first council meeting-sans Dante-Evan bitched about the need for elected representation. Omar bitched about too many projects and not enough help. Reverend Johnny bitched about the lack of medical facilities. Eva Rheimmer bitched about having to travel all the way in from the farm to listen to all the bitching.
– On December 10 ^ th "Bear" Ross and McBride returned after having traveled all the way to Grove City in western Pennsylvania. During that trip, they contacted more than twenty survivors and spied a slew of solitary alien animals but no organized threats.
The next day Bird and Cassy Simms arrived home after having pushed far into New Jersey with the same results albeit on a grander scale: if all the people they met during their scouting trip managed to return to the estate then the ranks of survivors would grow by more than one hundred.
Dante and Kristy Kaufman completed their round trip on December 12 ^ th but brought no good news. Instead, they found something ominous outside of Binghamton, New York.
Trevor stared at a photograph as the council and other prominent survivors gathered in the command center.
Dante told them, "It’s one hellish looking thing. I mean, you stand anywhere near it and there’s like an electricity in the air."
Kristy added, "And lightning. All up there above it. Flashes in the sky."
The sphere in the photo stretched ten stories tall. It did not look as if it had been built; more as if it had been grown.
"Something bad, man," Dante explained. "I tell you, it gives me the creeps."
"And there’s things guarding it, too," Kristy said. "Disgusting things."
Reverend Johnny looked at the photo. "Perhaps it belongs to The Order, but I'm not sure."
Trevor tapped the picture.
I know someone who can.
– "I don’t be needin’ no picture," the Old Man said. "I know what you're talkin’ ‘bout."
"So it’s a gateway." Trevor stood by the fire in the forest.
"Boy, you’ve gotten really smart since the last time we powwowed."
"So these gateways are how all the aliens got here so they could kill off mankind." "I just knew you we
re gunna start thinkin’ you figured this shit out. Lemme tell you somethin’, if this was about killin’ off mankind you’d all be killed off by now. Some of the things out there, hell, they could rip the at-mos-fere off this world. Shit, some could crack the core and roast marshmallows on your cities as the whole ball of wax melts from the inside out." "So what? So what is all of this about?"
The Old Man clued him in… a little.
"It’s about defeat’n mankind. Beatin’. Sub-jew-gait-ing. Killin' ya’ll off, that’d be sort of anti-climatic. Turnin’ ya’ll into second-class nobody’s, now that’s an accomplishment. But it ain’t my job to go fillin’ you in on all this. Mind your bees wax."
"Wait a sec," Trevor formed an idea. "What if there’s a way to reverse the gates: suck everything back to where it came from."
"Yeah, yeah," the Old Man encouraged. "In one shot you could go sendin’ em’ all packin’! Why, it’d be over lickity-split!"
The Old Man paused for a moment to let his sarcasm sink in and then mocked, "What you expectin’? You think there’s an exhaust port on this Death Star? One lucky shot and- whammo — everything is as right as rain? Maybe you haven’t seen the light of it yet. Face it, whatchya got here is an ole’ fashioned slugfest, Trev. The Martians ain’t gunna catch cold and die. You can’t kill the mother creature and all the little ones waste away. No magic bullets."
"So, what? It doesn’t matter about this gate thing?"
"Sure it matters. The more of em’ gates are around the more re-in-force-mints the bad guys get. Take a gate out and you take a step toward wipin’ em’ all out. Cause that’s what you got to do, Trev. You got to wipe em’ all out."
"That’s it? Just shoot, kill, and blow things up?"
"Eureka! I think he’s got it! What did it used to say on that T-shirt? Oh yeah, ‘kill em’ all and let God sort em’ out.’ That’s your motto, Trevor. And you know what? You got it in you."
"You really think so?"
"Before this is over, Trevor, you’re gunna realize one important thing ‘bout yourself: your soul was damned before you was born."
27. Destruction
Trevor guided the 'Eagle' northward with, thanks to Omar, better-fitting pilot goggles.
Outside the ship, thick flurries rode the air: not quite yet a storm.
Nina sat in the co-pilot’s seat but Trevor remained the only one who knew how to fly the alien craft. That meant three perfectly good flying machines sat unused in Wilkes-Barre.
Danny Washburn, Dante Jones and ten ‘volunteers’-including a few from Major Prescott's troop-filled the passenger compartment. Eight K9s rounded out the advanced team.
A ground convoy led by Stonewall transported more vehicles, people, and armaments to the battle but they would not arrive until morning.
In the meantime, Trevor's group would scout the area, assess the gateway, and formulate a plan to destroy it. That's why Trevor picked Danny Washburn to come along; his career with ATF meant he had experience with things that went BANG.
The ship pushed through a veil of white. Below, the deep woods and hills of the Endless Mountains rolled north turning whiter and whiter the further they travelled.
The Eagle crossed the New York border on December 15 ^ th en route to the campus of SUNY Binghamton situated off the Vestal Parkway south of that city.
During the first part of the flight, Trevor followed Interstate 81. After crossing the state line, he relied on a compass Omar super-glued to the control panel, one of several modifications to the alien craft including sport bucket seats pulled from a BMW.
Most important, Omar had rigged two energy weapons derived from the Redcoats’ rifles on a swivel beneath the front landing pods giving the Eagles talons.
Around noon, they caught sight of their destination.
The snow-loaded clouds could not hide the atmospheric disturbance on the horizon: flashing lights, some similar to the flicker of lightning, others more balls of energy catapulted away from the gate into the distance.
Trevor landed on a field surrounded by a running track on the northeast side of campus.
The buildings of the State University of New York at Binghamton stood in clusters separated by parking lots, access roads, and strips of trees made bare by winter. Fire, explosions or general ransacking had damaged many of those buildings.
They entered Hunter Hall on the south side of campus and established a temporary command post. Trevor and Danny went to a dorm room on the top floor and pointed binoculars at the ten-story tall abomination sitting in a vacant parking lot six hundred yards away.
"Jesus," Danny muttered without his usual good humor. "Just the sight of that thing makes my skin crawl."
The Grenadiers in the room seemed to agree; they fidgeted nervously and did something Trevor's dogs rarely did: whimpered.
Nina, wearing a leather jacket over black BDUs, strode in. Behind her came the other three members of her recon team including Dante who wore a hodgepodge of winter gear.
She said, "I don’t get it. There’s some pretty nasty stuff up by the gateway, but between here and there not much. I’m just saying, the scariest thing we saw in any of these buildings were some rats and a raccoon."
Trevor lowered the binoculars but kept his eyes focused on the distant sphere. A ball of energy shot away and disappeared into the steady drizzle of white puffs.
Dante suggested, "Man, it’s like it’s just throwing monsters into our world."
One of Nina’s other team members-a short but strong fellow with a scavenged parka over green army BDUs-added his thoughts: "Maybe the area around here is under its range. Sort of like an artillery piece has a minimum distance based on the firing arc."
Trevor tried to remember the man’s name.
Rhodes. Yes. That’s it. Rhodes.
He looked over the second soldier who had accompanied Nina: A big guy-so big he could have been a professional wrestler instead of a professional soldier-named Casey.
Nina continued, "Whatever the case, it's sitting over there on parking lot X."
Trevor saw something on Nina's face, an expression akin to puzzlement; or maybe she was getting sick. In fact, her entire recon team shared the same look: brows crinkled, noses twitching and vacant eyes.
"What? What is it?"
Nina answered, "It makes a noise. A thumping."
"No, no," Rhodes presented a different take. "Like a whining. But really low."
Dante said, "It wasn’t like you hear it with your ears, but like it's inside your head. Gave me the creeps, Trev."
Washburn chided, "Take off the skirt, Nancy."
Dante responded with his middle finger.
Trevor raised binoculars and faced the 10-story tall gateway again.
A strange texture covered the sphere, one mimicking frosted glass. A brownish bark-like material that appeared to have sprouted from the ground framed the orb and held it in place. That globe rippled every so often, as if it had a liquid surface yet the skin appeared solid.
Inside that sphere, movement. A ball of something like worms the size of oil pipes, spinning lines and shapes at the core. Still, all the time, flashes of lightning and bolts of energy flying away toward unseen destinations: a new horror airmailed to Earth.
Nina’s voice grabbed his attention: "That’s not all. Look at this."
Rhodes handed Trevor a digital camera.
"There are things guarding it," Nina explained as Trevor cycled through images.
"Two of them," Dante said. "Probably the ugliest damn things I’ve ever seen."
They were big and round; the size and shape of wrecking balls. Fibers sprouted from their bodies and waved madly like Medusa’s hair. They were covered with oval eyes and gaping mouths seemingly placed randomly around their bodies.
Rhodes hacked to hold back nausea as he told Trevor, "They leave, sort of, a pus behind. Like snail tracks when they roll around."
Trevor crinkled his nose and asked, "Danny, what do you think?"
"
I think we stick to the original idea. There’s plenty of farm country around here. We can find what we need. I’m sure there’s an abandoned 18-wheeler around here somewhere, too."
"Okay then," Trevor agreed. "We go with the whole big boom idea."
"Super-genius," Casey-the big soldier-imitated the Coyote from Roadrunner fame. "Wile E. Coyote, Suupppeerr Genius. I think I like the sound of that."
– The advanced team spent the night in Hunter and Cascade residence halls overlooking the campus’ main access road. They expected the ground convoy in the morning.
Trevor, Danny Washburn, and Nina shared an upstairs corner room with Odin and Tyr. The two men kept watch while Nina curled under a blanket and fell asleep.
The constant flashes from the gateway sparked flickers behind the steady stream of falling snow flurries; the only light on an otherwise black night. As hypnotizing as those flashes were, Trevor's eyes drifted to the sleeping Nina.
In the old world, he often wondered why Ashley Trump cared for him. She felt like a gift for which he was not worthy.
As he watched Nina sleep, he appreciated the fortune in meeting her but he did not feel unworthy. To him, she served as an anchor to his humanity. In her arms, he found parts of his old self; parts he thought buried under the weight of responsibility. With her, he gained a purpose beyond the great cause: something precious to Trevor Stone the man.
Yet despite his love for her, he knew he could not limit Nina's risk in the battles ahead. Not only because she was one of mankind's best warriors, but because he had to let her be who she was. He owed that to her no matter how much the fear of losing her scared him.
Danny Washburn, sitting on the floor against the outside wall, broke Trevor’s thoughts.
"You really love this girl, don’t you?"
It did not embarrass Trevor to admit his feelings. "Yeah. I do."
"That’s great. You deserve it. Before, the two of you were all doom and gloom and ‘oh-my-god it’s the end of the world.’ Now you’re not nearly as much an asshole."
"Danny, it kind of is the end of the world."
"It’s the end of the world when we give up. Look at how we did against everything we’ve faced so far. Could of packed it in, instead we fought and what happened? We won."
Disintegration ba-1 Page 35
