Conquest

by Mark Tufo

  “Ulterior motives? Me?” Paul said, trying to placate me. “Alright, you know me better than that. I want to launch an assault” Paul had expected me to act with trepidation or at the least with hesitation.

  “When?” I responded.

  “Shit, I knew I loved you for a reason.”

  “Must be for my insanity,” I answered.

  “I want to hit them after they get everything they plan on getting here, here. But before they get too settled and start to explore their surroundings.”

  “So by ‘explore’ you mean seek and destroy?”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I mean.”

  “Do you really think they could find the Hill?” I asked, now showing the signs of trepidation that Paul had expected earlier. Paul knew I wasn’t concerned for myself I had someone else in mind.

  “Do you really want to find out? If they stumble on the Hill, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  I shivered.

  “We’ve got to bring it to them before they have that chance. But only after their air support is gone.”

  “Do you think they’ll have some ships available?”

  “We’ve been monitoring their maneuvers around the globe. We can only speculate that either our air forces around the world took down more than was initially thought or that they just really didn’t have all that many to begin with.”

  “Well, that makes sense.”

  “What’s that?” Paul asked, curious to discover some more information about a puzzle that had been mystifying him for weeks now.

  “The ship that’s sending all these aliens and weaponry and supplies, is not an assault ship,” I answered.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? All this death and destruction and that thing up there’s not a battleship?” Paul asked incredulously.

  “To be honest, bro, they classify it as a Heavy Scout ship.”

  “So that’s why they haven’t just pounded us into the ground,” Paul said to no one in particular. “I thought they were spread too thin. But why? And how much time do we have?”

  To the last question, I knew what Paul was asking without any further elaboration.

  “Well, my friend, it’s not like I had a direct pipeline to the Supreme Commander’s war room, but I did get some information and it comes down to power, or more exactly the pursuit of power. The new commander on that ship saw an opportunity to seize power and took it. The normal process, if there is such a thing for planetary takeover and domination, is for the scout ship to find a viable planet, radio the coordinates back home and then they wait, basically planting a flag on the planet. And my understanding is that from the time the signal is received, the true war ships arrive, is somewhere in the neighborhood of two years.”

  Paul shook his head. “So then, what we’re doing here is…”

  “Surviving,” I answered quickly.

  For the first time in a long time, Paul began to doubt their whole objective. “So no matter what we do to this little bully, his big bully brothers are coming and then will really start to dish out some whoop-ass? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Listen, Paul, I’m only relaying the message. I don’t like the news any more than you do, but there it is. Just because someone bigger and badder is coming down the street, doesn’t mean we should just give up now. I still want to kill as many of them as I can before this thing ends.”

  Paul nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That just wasn’t the news I was expecting or hoping to hear.”

  “I understand, bud. But it’s not like I told you the Pope wasn’t Catholic.”

  “What do you know about that?” Paul asked conspiratorially.

  “How long until we attack?”

  “Tomorrow morning.” The men began to melt back into the woods surrounding the town center.

  ***

  I got back into my bunk, Tracy still sleeping, the perfect vision of an angel. Her auburn hair fanned out around her beautiful face. I stared down at her a long time soaking in everything about her from her straight nose to the curve of her slightly thin lips, to her almost elfish ears. I didn’t think I had quite crossed over to love, but I was damn close and falling fast. I was snapped out of my thoughts when Tracy spoke.

  “Instead of looking, why don’t you come over here and kiss me,” Tracy said dreamily. We made love with a passion heretofore unbeknownst to the both of us. An hour later we lay next to each other breathless and spent.

  “That was amazing,” Tracy said as she half rolled over, drawing small circles with her finger in my sparse chest hair.

  “Yeah, I was pretty good,” I answered with a wicked smile on my lips.

  Tracy teasingly punched me in the arm.

  “What time do we leave tomorrow?” Tracy asked out of the blue.

  I had hoped to avoid that conversation. I had planned on sneaking out before she ever woke. But the cat was out of the bag now. I wouldn’t be able to dodge the issue no matter how hard I tried. How the hell had she found out?

  “Five am,” I answered solemnly.

  “What, no fight? I thought for sure you’d try to talk me out of it. I’m a little disappointed.”

  “Would it have helped?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered matter-of-factly. “But what’s the fun in that?”

  “Listen, Tracy, I would be able to concentrate a whole lot better if I knew you were back here and safe.”

  “Listen, Mike,” she said, sitting up now. “I was a soldier long before you. I was training in Annapolis when you were playing quarters and trying to get in some freshman’s skirt.”

  “That’s not fair, Tracy, you know what I meant,” I answered, true hurt in my voice. “I’m not doubting your ability to fight, I’m doubting my ability to fight when I’ll be constantly watching to make sure you’re alright.”

  “You love me, don’t you,” she stated, not asked.

  “I think I might.”

  “You think?” she asked staring directly into my eyes.

  “Alright-alright, I do.”

  “And I love you, Mike. How do you think I’ll feel sitting here waiting to see if you come back or not?”

  “See I should have never opened this door, I knew I’d never win.”

  “And you never will,” she answered smiling. “Now go to sleep, I don’t want you all bleary-eyed when we go and kick some ass.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Do I think what?” she asked.

  “Do you really think we’re going to kick some ass tomorrow?”

  “Call it woman’s intuition if you want to, but I feel it in my bones. This is going to be a class-A seek and destroy mission.”

  I wasn’t quite as confident, but the table had been set and now it was just a matter of sitting down to eat.

  Tracy laid back down. “Now go to sleep, because I want to do this again tomorrow night and the night after and then, who knows, maybe the night after that.”

  “Yes, dear,” I answered, using my best whipped dog imitation.

  I could tell within scant minutes Tracy had fallen asleep, looking no more troubled than if she had to get up in the morning and let the dog out into the backyard. I had no such luck, as quietly as I could, I arose and went in search of some solace. In five minutes I found what I had been looking for. It was a large conference room that had been converted into a non-denominational chapel. God and I had for the most part been on uneasy terms, but I was going to try my best tonight to smooth that over.

  “God, I know in my heart you exist, no matter what my head says. And I know you are aware of the devastation your world has come under. We need you, God, now more than ever. Is it right of me to only seek your help now when things are at their darkest, when for most of my adult life I have turned a cold shoulder? No, probably not. But don’t you hear those who stray and then come back to the flock? I learned at least that much in Sunday school. Please, God, don’t turn your back, like so many of us have to you. Your child
ren need you.” I performed the Holy trinity and then rose and turned, slightly shocked to see Dennis leaning against the door frame, a half drained bottle of Southern Comfort in his hand.

  “Did he hear you?” Dennis asked earnestly with not the slightest hint of a slur.

  “Look around Dennis, do you think so?” I answered just as earnestly as I reached for the bottle Dennis had now proffered.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so, either.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  “Holy shit,” Beth yelped joyously, as she looked upon the Norwood sign, bent over at an angle most motorists would never be able to see. “One town away, Sampson,” she said excitedly.

  Sampson couldn’t for the life of him understand why the girl was so excited about the metal object. He had sniffed it and knew without a shadow of a doubt he couldn’t eat it. He would’ve reflected her feeling happy if it had been a steak or some corn chips—his personal favorite—that the little boy used to share with him even when the older lady half yelled at him for doing so. He wagged his tail, remembering. But it wasn’t steak and it wasn’t corn chips, it wasn’t even those hard little crunchy things that tasted like old cardboard that his family called dog food. With little ceremony, Sampson lifted his leg and let this girl know exactly what he thought of the large metal object.

  “Sampson?” she said laughing. “That’s fine for now, but you sure as hell better not do that when we get to the Walpole sign. Sampson’s tail wagged as they began to move again. Hopefully in the direction of food. His belly was beginning to rumble and he didn’t like that one bit.

  ***

  Pegged burned with a fever of hatred and death. All reason was smoked out of him. He had become something more and less than a man. He had faculty enough to know he was losing his humanity but not enough reason to care. He didn’t just want to kill the girl, he wanted to destroy her, to mash her into so fine a visceral mess that she would be undistinguishable from anything that had ever walked the planet. He had been to the history museum, he knew some extraordinarily strange creatures had once roamed the planet. He laughed, as small pieces of red ribboned phlegm dislodged from his lungs and hung from his bottom lip. He did not rest, he did not eat, he did not drink. He knew the pace would kill him, but she would die first and in such a manner that would earn him a spot high in the realm of hell. A place that had been seemingly more real with each passing day, spurring him ever closer even when he had thought his quarry had indefatigably escaped. He was close, he could smell her as one of the strands finally broke and landed on a sign he never saw.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE- Mike Journal Entry 16

  At three am, five hundred, Marines, soldiers and militia streamed out of various hidden exits along the eastern side of the Hill. Tracy had been put in command of her men plus a small squad giving her a total of fifty for containment on the left side. I wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or not. I had been tasked with leading the vanguard into the heart of the enemy encampment and that was infinitely more dangerous than the flanking units, but now she would for the entire battle not be anywhere in my field of vision. If somehow her position was overrun I wouldn’t even know until the planned fall back twenty-five minutes after the first volleys were launched. Paul had seen to it that Tracy would be on the outskirts of the major fighting with a small prompting from me, but now I was not sure if I liked it anymore than if she was at my side.

  “Mike, you there?” Paul asked as he readjusted his ammunition belt “She’ll be fine, Mike. I talked with her, she’s as tough a warrior as they come.”

  “That obvious?” I asked.

  “Dude, I’d have to be blind to not see what was going on in that head of yours, and even then I’d probably be able to feel the oppressiveness of your psyche. I need you here and now, Mike, these troops need you here and now. We’re going to hit them so fast and so hard, they’ll still be scrambling for cover when we head back. They’ll never even get the chance to try and outflank us. You with me?”

  I nodded in agreement, my unease for the moment, at least, abated.

  At five am, all of the fighters were in position. The cue to unleash hell would be the distinctive whoomp as the first round of mortars made their way into the heart of the alien camp. Our soldiers had positioned themselves a mere twenty yards from the ring of Geno guards surrounding their camp. From there, it would be another long fifty yards to the fringes of their newly erected barracks. And Blackburn Hall, host of many a school dance, now converted into the command center for the insurgents.

  “I want everything that moves in Blackburn Hall dead,” Paul said to his sergeant.

  “I just want everything dead,” his sergeant answered back.

  Paul nodded in agreement. “The hall first.”

  “Understood, General,” the sergeant said as he quickly moved off to relay the info.

  On another prompting from me I had convinced Paul to up his pay grade fro Colonel to General.

  “He’s a good man. He’s one of the corporal's from the Guard unit attempting to take the grocery store,” Paul told me.

  I grunted an acknowledgement.

  “He likes to set his shoes on fire every night,” Paul said, testing my alacrity.

  “I’m with you, Paul. I was just checking my extra magazines.”

  Paul nodded, pleased to know I was beginning to hone in on the task at hand.

  At 5:42 the sun made its debut, followed closely by the launching of nearly fifty mortars. Molten death spread from the sky, explosions rocked the new day. Small arms fire blistered, the nearest guards were cut into pieces as lead flew down field. Dazed Genogerians stumbled out of their barracks only to die where they stood. The iron rich smell of blood mingled deeply with the acrid smell of smoke.

  Paul stood up. “Sergeant, now!” he shouted over the din.

  The sergeant nodded. “Charge!” he bellowed, his booming voice carried over the chattering M-16s and then at once drowned out as three hundred men and women stood and screamed their fiercest battle cries, racing across the small field separating them from their objective. I noticed with satisfaction some of the aliens were so completely overwhelmed by the charge, they actually dropped the weapons they were carrying and began to retreat.

  “They’re fucking running!” I shouted.

  Not knowing how I could have been heard over the cacophony, Paul answered.

  “Well, that’s gotta be a first.” As if he were sitting in his parlor watching a cribbage match.

  I just grinned as I let loose another full magazine into the backs of the enemy. But some did not run. Even with the surprise attack and the retreat of a good number of the aliens, the Hill soldiers were still outnumbered almost two to one. The distinctive blue streaks of death struck several of the soldiers around us, screams of agony were threatening to overtake the war cry. Some of the less experienced people began to hesitate as the threat of their own impending deaths loomed larger than it ever had. But as Paul streaked to the forefront, the charge was brought anew. The human wave crashed around and through the aliens’ first line of defense. Some stopped to more intimately express their feelings for the aliens. Half-dead aliens had nothing more to look forward to in this lifetime than the snarling wicked faces of their opponents as they were repeatedly shot, stabbed and sometimes bludgeoned until at last, merciful death found them. The staunchest defense the aliens could muster was around the perimeter of the Blackburn Hall. Paul slowed the charge down as he checked his watch, six minutes had passed since the assault began, they had four minutes to attack and fifteen to withdraw before the enemy air support arrived. Any longer than that and the ships would be able to track and kill them as they tried to get back to safety. Paul was amazed at how quickly the aliens had got back under control, hundreds of them had taken up defensive positions in and around the hall protecting their superiors with everything they had. The superior firepower of the aliens began to take its hold as more and more of the Hillians (Hill Residents for short) died. I watched in rising
horror as more and more of the troops around me fell. Paul’s leading unit had halted its charge and had also taken up defensive positions, a stalemate looked to be the aliens’ strategy, for they did not press the attack but merely laid down suppressing fire holding us off and in place. They knew help was on the way soon.

  Another crucial minute ticked by, Paul’s attackers were stuck, unable to move forward or back. If they got up and ran they would be cut down before they could go twenty feet.

  “Paul!” I yelled, “Call in more mortars!”

  “We’re too close!” Paul answered, his voice nearly cracking from the effort of being heard over the battle being waged.

  “Just a couple of rounds, I need some distractionary cover.”

  Paul wasn’t sure what I was up to and he wouldn’t have time to find out. If I had a plan, that would be good enough for him.

  Paul shouted to his radio man, even though the man was within touching distance. “Call in two mortar rounds, now!”

  The radio operator didn’t hesitate, although he knew the danger.

  “This is Spearpoint One, calling Hammer. Spearpoint One calling Hammer.”

  “Go ahead, Spearpoint, this is Hammer.”

  Paul breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure if they would be able to hear.

  “Hammer, two volleys now. Repeat two volleys. Now!” the radioman shouted.

  “Incoming!” Paul shouted, as the high-pitched whistling made itself heard. The effect was instantaneous, alien and human alike dived for cover. Except for one. Even as the mortars were closing in, I bounded out of my hiding spot and ran for the rocket launcher that had been dropped ten feet from my position. The first owner of the weapon having been sliced to pieces by alien fire. The tube was blood-caked, but otherwise appeared undamaged. I knew I wouldn’t have enough time to get back to my former, safer position before the mortars hit, so I fired, the action and thought were instantaneous.

  If I’m going to die, they’re coming with me. Flicking off the safety, I fired as the first of the mortars struck, the concussion from the impact took me off my feet and drove me almost ten feet back. Light turned to gray, gray faded to black. I was conscious no more.