by W. J. Lundy
The roadway in front of the small house was now filled with a parade of people. The helmeted Reds lined the sidewalk like security guards, searching the group for threats. Francis moved close to her. “Now just walk with me. Do not talk to anyone; communication with other new arrivals is frowned upon.
“If you have a question or need assistance, ask me and no one else. Do you understand?”
Laura nodded her acknowledgement without looking at him. She was now in the mix, Katy walking close beside her. The road was filled with clusters of women and walking children, each with a man in dark-blue gowns of their own. She looked ahead at the end of the road between the houses, and could just barely make out their destination.
“Where are the men?” Laura asked.
“There are no men, except for those like myself.”
“And what are you?”
“Think of me as your sponsor, to assist with your transition.”
Laura looked down at Katy. “Are you okay, hun?”
Francis grinned. “She is fine. Children are more receptive to the knowledge plate; her level of understanding already exceeds ours. Her mind is more open and less resistant to the transition.”
Laura hesitated, a chill moving down her spine, causing her legs to stiffen. Ahead was the globe, the mammoth pumpkin-shaped orb now buried into the flat ground with only its top remaining exposed. Missing portions of it showed entry hatches and openings. She saw Deltas along the outside of it moving earth and cutting away vegetation, making room for vehicles and formations of gathering Reds. At the front was a large stage. The procession of people was leaving the road and approaching it.
“Francis,” she said with fear in her voice.
He gripped her free hand and squeezed it. “What you are feeling is normal. I was afraid at my first reception as well. Soon you will understand.”
A formation of Reds moved them tighter together until they were all clustered at the front of the ship. Unlike other crowds of this size, the group was silent, only the breathing and rustling of their clothing providing any ambient noise. Above the large platform, an entryway appeared at the side of the orb. A group of Reds exited and lined the edges of the platform, soon followed by a group of the smaller creatures with gold sleeves. Like the guide, Thera, these wore no helmets. They formed a straight line along the face of the platform then knelt low. Behind them, a blue light shone in the entrance, and out walked a male dressed head to toe in glimmering gold. It was taller than the golden-sleeved guides, but nowhere near the size of the Reds. The crowd let out a combined gasp as the thing moved forward, stopping directly in line of the gold-sleeved guides.
She felt Francis squeeze on her hand. She knew it was his reminder to remain calm. Francis put his lips close to her ear. “This is the Messenger,” he whispered.
The thing moved to the center of the line then raised its arms. Laura looked and watched as the crowd around her knelt, taking the same position as the guides on the platform. A pressure from the top of her head urged her down. She dropped to her knees, holding her eyes closed against the pressure. The creature waited until everyone had followed suit. Laura heard an angered shout near the front and looked up; an older woman stood defiantly shouting, her hand pointed at the Messenger. He flipped a wrist in her direction. She crumpled to the ground and was quickly collected by Reds that moved in from the perimeter. The woman was hurriedly shuttled out of sight.
She returned the squeeze and looked down at Katy, giving the girl a small smile. Katy looked up playfully and leaned into her mother, the young girl somehow sensing the seriousness of the gathering.
The Messenger lowered his arms, and the Golds rose back to their feet, the crowd rising with them.
Stepping to the edge of the platform, the Messenger began to speak. Once again the words came to Laura as thoughts, not transmissions through her ears. “We have come home to you, and now you are saved. You are now a part of us, as you have always been. This we accept. You will be provided for; all of your needs will be met. We welcome you into our civilization; any rejection of this will not be tolerated.”
The Messenger stepped back and looked to his right, then nodded. A pair of red-sleeved guards emerged, holding the older woman who’d shouted the outburst earlier. They brought her forward. The woman’s body appeared paralyzed, frozen into an already kneeling position.
A pair of guides emerged out of the blue light, pushing a large golden cauldron. The Messenger approached the old woman and removed the knowledge plate from the crown of her skull. Freed from its hold, the woman began to struggle, yet unable to break the grip of the Reds holding her tight. The Messenger waved them forward. They stopped just short of the cauldron, shaking the woman and forcing her to her feet. The Messenger gripped the back of the woman’s head and looked back into the crowd.
“Those who refuse our message will be martyred.” The Messenger forced the woman’s head into the cauldron. Her body convulsed, fighting against the grip of the guards. The old woman fought, legs kicking, splashing the black, oily liquid from the pot. Suddenly, her body relaxed, and the Messenger released his grip on her head. The guards pulled the old woman back. She stood upright and opened eyes as black as coal. The crowd let out a collective gasp.
Katy buried her head into her mother’s waist. The Messenger stood with his arms raised; Laura looked back to the front, the pressure in her knowledge plate forcing her eyes to remain open. Silenced, with all of their eyes to the front, the crowd stood fixed on the woman’s transformed body.
Raising his hands, the Messenger began to speak when its head snapped back as a gunshot cracked through the air. Laura felt the release of the knowledge plate when the Messenger’s head slumped forward, its forehead destroyed as two more holes thumped into its chest. Gunshots echoed in the midst of Reds rushing forward to surround the Messenger. Screaming, the crowd panicked, while Laura stood still, a smile forming on her face.
“The Assassins reject your message,” she said.
Chapter 18
“Holy shit!” Jacob shouted, running for the tree line. “Whatever just happened, they are pissed.” The air was erupting with the vibration of the alien vehicles coming to life. Blue bolts of light ripped across the far horizon.
“Get up the ridge and into the tree line,” Rogers yelled.
Jacob led the way, stumbling through the high grass, colliding with the steep slope of the ridge at a full sprint. He twisted his gloved hands into the thick vegetation and pulled himself up, his legs pumping for traction. The voomp of the enemy gunfire growing louder and nearer to them, Jacob summited the steep hill and reached back, pulling Rogers up behind him. They low-crawled into the cover of high trees overlooking the walled community.
“There,” Rogers said, pointing.
Cutting across the low ground and running close to the fence, they spotted James, the dog close by his side. Splashes of blue raced by him, the shots going up and smacking into the sides of the far off hills. Rogers raised his rifle, spotting the first of James’ pursuers—a Red in close pursuit.
“We’re in it now,” Rogers said, pulling the trigger. Firing several rounds, the Red tumbled to the ground. James lifted his head. Spotting them on the high ridgeline, he corrected his course and ran directly to them.
In his peripheral vision, Jacob saw the pedestrian gate open and three Reds move into the open. Unaware of them on the ridge, the Reds turned to the west, attempting to cut James off. He turned and squared his chest to them. Putting the rifle to his cheek, he eased off the safety and took aim at the tail runner. He let loose a salvo of five rounds that left the three Reds dead on the ground. A blue splash of plasma smacked the trees over his head, raining down flaming debris. Jacob spun back to the front; the number of James’ pursuers had doubled, and then tripled.
Many were firing as they galloped after him. Jacob whipped left and leveled his rifle. Now laying down suppressive fire, rounds going wide, it was enough to slow the pack of Reds and force them to take
cover. James was at the ridge now, Duke running up the slope ahead of him.
“Move your ass,” Rogers yelled.
James looked up at him, panting. “Tha’ fuck you think I’m doing?”
Rogers pulled a smoke canister from his belt and threw it into the distance, the canister popping and spewing green smoke to screen James’ climb. Jacob moved back into the trees, taking cover behind a tall oak. He bled off the remnants of his magazine, watching another Red fall. Blue plasma raced in his direction, cutting through the smoke and striking precariously close to James as he rolled over the top of the slope.
Rogers reached down and yanked him to his feet. “’Bout time, you lazy bastard. Hope you’re up for a run.”
“Hell, I thought you’d never ask.”
Jacob watched as a formation of armored vehicles rounded the curve of the wall and came into view. He saw the flash as their main guns fired. Jacob dropped back and rolled into the woods, landing on his feet at a full run, the others close behind him. He felt the blast and heat on his back as the forest and ridgeline exploded.
Then it was over. They continued running, crashing through the thick underbelly of the forest, their ears ringing, and their skin burning from the flash burns. At a bend in the contour of the terrain, Rogers led them again uphill, moving them into a draw before heading into a copse of fallen trees. Jacob hurdled over a thick tree, and after several steps dropped into a bed of leaves and pine needles, the adrenaline crash leaving him exhausted. He held the rifle to his chest and hung his head with his mouth wide open, gasping for air.
The others fell in beside him, doing the same. “What the fuck happened back there?” Rogers asked between labored breaths.
James pulled Duke close to him, running his hands along the dog’s body, checking it for injuries before rubbing the dog’s ears and pouring it a handful of water. “I broke up some sort of ceremony; some flamboyant fucker in a Liberace dress was torturing some old lady. James isn’t okay with shit like that. I put him to sleep.”
“Yeah, you might have put him to sleep, but you managed to wake up their entire army. Who knows what other damage you caused?” Rogers said.
“It is what it is, but I bet they think twice before doing silly shit like that out in the open again.”
Jacob leaned forward, dropping the empty magazine from his rifle before searching for a replacement in his vest. “Did you see anything else?”
James nodded, drying his hand on his trousers. “They got ’em, lots of people in there. It’s some kind of town. I was able to get up to a rooftop just across from the orb. They built a fence that runs right around that small town. There are a few houses on the backside that look like they were damaged when that thing landed. For whatever reason, they excluded them from the fence.
“I had a good view of the back approach; something was going on. They positioned all of their guards in and around the orb—had all the civilians marching down the main street for some sort of concert, gathering, or something. I couldn’t hear anything, but it must have been important. I was about to pull back and head for the tower when I saw them pull some lady onto the stage. They dumped her head into some of that Delta stew, the black shit that turns them.”
“And you stopped it?” Jacob asked.
“He’s not in good shape. Popped his grape and put two into his chest.”
Rogers grunted. “This isn’t good. I think you just poured gas all over the hornets’ nest. They’ll double up security now and go out in force after us.”
James spat and, using a log, drug himself back to his feet. “Wake up, brother, what you think they were already doing? I just let them know they can be touched. I put them on notice. And hell, I plan to do more of it. I just need a bigger gun.”
“You might have crushed our only chances of getting inside.”
“Damn, Rogers, what the hell are you so afraid of? Look around you. We’re fucked. This is all lost already, there’s nothing left to lose. I lay up there on that roof watching them, so damn many of them, and not that many of us. The people filed out of those houses, all of them falling in line, doing what they were told to—”
Jacob leaned in. “Did you see Laura?”
The bearded scout shook his head. “No… just crowds of faces all dressed alike. But for the most part they looked safe—except for the one, but she stood up to them. I saw her shout at them before they snatched her from the crowd. Maybe that’s what we’ve got to look forward to. Do what we’re told to survive.”
“Except they don’t accept men into their little commune,” Jacob said.
“Wrong, they had men. I watched a couple of them really close. Little rat bastards wearing blue pajamas, like trustees or something, they had more freedom of movement than the others. I was planning to snatch one of the little turncoats. Well, before I saw the Liberace routine.”
“We need to go back,” Jacob said, having heard enough.
James grinned, swinging his legs over a nearby log. “Now you’re talking. But first we need to get back to the tower and rearm.”
Chapter 19
The old man lay tucked into thick grass, his eye glued to the scope with a clear sight of the roadblock. He was in an elevated position and less than five hundred meters from the target; they would take several down before they had to withdraw back into the woods. Even if they did not kill them all, it was enough to slow them down, and that was their main objective—to disrupt the enemy movement.
A single alien vehicle blocked the intersection; two Red Sleeves in front, another behind it, one sticking out of the armored turret. The back of the carrier jostled and a ramp dropped, more alien soldiers exiting and moving into the grass alongside the carrier. The ear tickling vibrations stopped as their vehicle shut down and settled onto the surface of the road. These things were settling in for a long shift.
Clem grinned. Excited at the prospects in front of him, he let his hand move to the top of his scope and turned a dial, illuminating a red dot. He steadied the .308 bolt-action rifle and focused on the alien in the turret. He knew more of Matt’s soldiers would be farther up the trail, setting improvised explosive devices on the road leading back to the alien base. If these called for help, there would be a surprise for any quick reaction force. They were ready to take the fight back to the enemy. Clem turned his wrist and looked at his watch, almost noon. Almost time to begin.
“Hold up,” Masterson whispered.
His spotter was positioned just behind him to his right. He was behind the stock of an M240B machine gun fitted with a long-range scope—a gift from the stores at Emmerson’s ridge. “What is it?” Clem asked.
“We got civvies on the road, moving this way.”
Clem removed his eye from the scope and squinted into the bright sunlight. He spotted a group of refugees, women and children carrying heavy bags, one with a suitcase on rollers. A sight right out of the Third World. He used his scope to get a better view. Panning left and right, he could only see women; two paced out in front of the others—an elderly woman and a short, heavyset woman, wrapped in blankets.
The two red-sleeved soldiers at the front of the convoy spread out on the road, watching the approaching mass. One turned back, signaling the alien in the turret. A short moment later, a Gold Sleeve exited the back of the vehicle and joined them on the road. The creature made its way to the front, anticipating, almost welcoming, the approaching civilians.
“They surrendering?” Clem whispered.
“Looks like it. Your call, what do you want to do?”
“I’m hungry, but I’m not eager to take down friendlies in the crossfire,” Clem said. “Let’s see how this plays out.”
As the civilians drew closer, the Gold Sleeve stopped and allowed the Reds to move into position. Clem watched as the Gold opened its arms in a welcoming gesture, waving the women forward, at the same time signaling for the Reds to back away. The guards complied and took a step back, lowering their battle rifles. The civilians hesitated, but
continued their march forward.
The Gold slowly approached, her arms outstretched, palms open. A female at the lead of the group stepped forward and stopped when the alien raised her hand. She approached the female and placed a reflective cap atop her head. Almost instantly, the female knelt down to the surface of the road. The Gold nodded and reached into a pouch, retrieving another bowl. It looked up to the next female and waved her forward—the heavyset woman draped in blankets. Two teenaged girls followed close behind, flanking the blanketed woman on both sides.
“I don’t like this. I think I’ll put a bullet in that little one handing out Yakamas,” Clem whispered, allowing the red dot to pan and settle center on the back of the gold-sleeved alien.
Before Masterson could respond, the large woman threw the blanket aside, revealing a snub-nosed revolver. Time seemed to slow as Clem watched the woman’s arm extend inches from the gold-sleeved alien’s face. The woman pulled the trigger, and the Gold’s helmeted head snapped, a puff of red mist exploding from the back. The teen girls on either side drew small hand guns, each unloading into the guards to their fronts.
“Give them cover!” Clem shouted, finally back to his senses. He pivoted hard on his elbows and centered his optic on the alien in the turret. Before he could pull the trigger, the top of the vehicle exploded in bright yellow flames. The alien flailed, its blue-and-red suit engulfed in flame. Clem exhaled and squeezed the trigger, the round tearing through the alien’s armor. He heard Masterson’s machine gun open up behind him, ripping rounds into the aliens in reserve, cutting them down as they ran forward toward the civilians, making them easy targets in the open, and swallowed in the flames of the burning vehicle.
Clem pulled his eye back from the scope, working the bolt as he searched for more targets. He saw the women now scattered across the road front. The rolling suitcase was open, revealing bottles stuffed with rags; the women were showering the vehicle with Molotov cocktails. The heavyset woman stopped over each downed creature, finishing them with a single shot to the head from the revolver while the teen girls swarmed over the dead, removing equipment.
