CHAPTER 14
“Vic!” Maria’s voice came from the living room to Suarez, who lay in the midnight blackness of their bedroom. Sensing something was terribly wrong, he slipped out of bed and moved through the darkness with all the stealth of his military training. A night sweat made his T shirt stick to his body. His heart pounded in his chest. He was afraid, but not for himself. There had been a choking terror in Maria’s voice.
In the living room he saw her silhouetted against moon glow on the curtains. “What is it?” he asked, barely breathing the words.
She pointed toward the open doorway to the boys’ room and his heart pounded even harder. He’d known instinctually the trouble was there. He flattened himself to the wall outside the door, leaned his head around the jam and peered into the dark bedroom. He saw nothing but a shaft of moonlight on the floor. Straining his ears, all he heard was the wispy sound of the boys’ breathing. Nothing seemed wrong but Vic remained on edge as he crept in and went to Evan’s small bed. He took heart when he saw the form of his eldest boy lying under the tangled covers and heard his even breathing. Then he glanced quickly at Emanuel’s crib, but the dark and the crib rails made it impossible to tell if he was there. Vic stole silently to the crib and leaned over the rail, smelling the sweetness of little Manny and hearing faint little whiffs of soft breathing. The boy lay snuggled under his comforter. Just to be sure, Suarez reached in and pulled the cover back—
“Vic!” The voice called again and Suarez realized it wasn’t Maria’s voice at all. It wasn’t even a woman’s voice.
“You all right, Captain?”
The shudder and rumble of the tank brought Suarez out of his dream. His ears filled with the roar of the engine and the heavy clank of treads fanning pavement. He’d been daydreaming, completely lost in a vivid and terrifying fantasy. Now the glare of hot afternoon sun cut through his visor, reminding him exactly where he was, and why. He was in the commander’s hatch of his tank, sitting behind his machine gun. Scorching sunlight had heated his helmet to the boiling point. He’d been mesmerized by the blur of asphalt rushing under the front of the tank. Now his eyes snapped into focus and he turned to see Walt Hebert, his loader, staring at him from the other turret hatch. Walt’s face, like his own, was mostly hidden in a bug-like Combat Vehicle Crew helmet and dust goggles. It had been Hebert’s voice coming through Suarez’s helmet speakers that had roused him. Walt looked at him curiously, waiting for a reply. Suarez shook the cobwebs out of his head.
“Yeah, man, I’m fine. This helmet’s cooking my brains.” He thought to himself, You’re going psycho, man. Too much sun, too little sleep. Just hold on, Suarez. Maintain.
“Like I was saying,” Walt said, “it looks like parade day.”
Suarez glanced around to see what Walt was talking about. The tank column was just entering the little New Mexico town of Alamogordo and it did seem like being in a parade. People were coming out in droves from the darkened buildings along the main drag. The motels and gas stations, the food stores and travel agencies and apartments were coughing up tons of people as Fox Troop roared into town. Folks were walking to the edge of the curb and stopping to gawk like a parade was going by.
Suarez had been in Alamogordo before. It was a desert tourist trap and retirement community across from the main gates of White Sands Military Ordnance Testing Range. He and Maria had been up this way on weekends more than once. Today, the town seemed normal enough, considering what was going on. People were keeping calm, sticking close to home, waiting. Nevertheless, as the tank column neared the center of town, Suarez saw that everything was not okay. One building was a smoldering ruin: a cell-phone transceiver station was now a burnt-out cinder block husk beside the melted, buckled-over metal framework of its transmission tower. The light-beam from the moon had zapped the communication facility without collateral damage.
As the tanks rumbled on, the crowd on the sidewalks grew. People clumped by the dozens on both sides of the street. Most had a curious, half-scared, half-hopeful look on their faces. Walt said over the intercom, “Feels like one of those World War Two liberation movies.”
“Except nobody’s smiling,” Suarez observed. “And we haven’t liberated anything.”
A woman in a store clerk’s uniform broke from the crowd and ran beside the tank, stumbling along in shoes that weren’t built for speed. Suarez’s driver, Ed Vecchio, sitting with his head protruding from the Abrams’ front hatch under the gun barrel, saw her and slowed for safety.
She was yelling up at Suarez and he pulled off his helmet to listen. “Are you going to fight?” she shouted, “or are you retreating?”
Suarez opened his mouth to tell her about NORAD but the words froze in his throat. He had to think of the security of his troop. “Can’t talk ma’am,” he called, looking regretfully into her upturned hopeful face. “Might jeopardize the mission.”
Her hope drained away and she stumbled, losing a shoe. But she hobbled along dangerously close to the spinning treads, calling up to him, “Oh God, please say something. We’ve got to know. Are you fighting or running away?”
“Running away?” That got to him. He shouted back, “We’re going to fight!”
Her other shoe came off and she went down to her hands and knees, but she wore an ecstatic smile. “God bless you!” she shouted after him. “God bless you all!”
She got up, gesturing excitedly and shouting to people on the curb. Suarez couldn’t hear what she said but he saw the reaction. Cheering broke out and spread faster than the tanks were moving. People ran into the street, grinning and waving hysterically. They hollered louder than the roar of the tanks, shouting words of encouragement. A man tore flowers out of the median and flung them across the decks of Fox One. Others followed his example and soon the entire column was covered with purple and yellow flowers.
Suarez picked up a rock rose blossom from the turret top. Its fragile beauty sent a chill up and down his spine. These people were pinning their hopes on him and his men, but he saw precious little reason for that trust. He didn’t know what awaited him at NORAD. And he didn’t know what Fox Troop could do when they got there.
On the curb a mother held up her tiny baby, helping its little hand wave at him. He focused on the lady’s face as he rolled past. It was a pretty face, tear-streaked, full of hope and fear at the same time. That one face said as much to Suarez as the whole cheering crowd. It told him why he was on this long road-march to NORAD. A moment ago he had been dreaming, drifting away to his own home and family. But now he was back. The flower he held was like a prayer from a stranger. It reminded him duty came first. He couldn’t let himself worry about home. He had to trust God for that and keep his mind focused on the task at hand. And his task was to protect these people just as steadfastly as he would defend Maria and the kids. That mother and baby on the curb were part of his family now. Everyone’s hopes were riding with Fox Troop.
The cheering faded when they passed the last little shop at the north end of town. As they accelerated on the straight desert highway the wind began blowing flowers off the tank one by one.
Dinosaur Wars: Earthfall Page 33
