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Authors: Mark Terence Chapman

Aliens Versus Zombies (35 page)

BOOK: Aliens Versus Zombies
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In the distance, part of the city went black for a moment and then came back to life as the remaining power lines picked up the load.

“No, no, no, no! C’mon! Fall, damn it, fall!”

Then she thought of the consequences to those in the other two Jilts if the power wasn’t cut. The consequences to Chick, especially.

“Ohmigod! Think! Think!”

“Oh.
Oh
!” The two spare blocks he’d given her!

“Remind me to kiss you the next time I see you!” she shouted.

She jumped out of the vehicle, grabbed the box containing the C-4 and detonators, and ran toward the pylon. “Suzi, stay here with Amanda. I’ll be right back!”

She knew she had to hurry. She attached the C-4 as quickly as she could, one-handed, set the timers, and inserted them, with a thirty-second countdown. Then she ran back to the Jilt. She had barely gotten inside when two more explosions rocked the vehicle. A screech of metal rending accompanied a view of the pylon falling—in her direction.

She hurried to put the Jilt in gear and floored it.

The pylon appeared to fall in slow motion as it grew ever larger in the driver’s side mirror. The Jilt had a powerful engine, needed to haul all that armor around, but was anything but a sports car. It picked up speed slowly but surely. The power lines briefly slowed the fall of the pylon until the lines snapped. Then it fell faster.

“Come on, you piece of shit!
Move it!

“You said a bad word!” Amanda piped up.

“Not now, Amanda!” she almost shouted.

The pylon looked huge in the mirror. It was going to be close. Falling…falling…

“Go, go,
go!

The pylon crashed down mere yards behind the Jilt, throwing up a shower of dirt, rocks, and metal debris that pelted the top and back of the vehicle. But they’d made it.

 

* * * *

 

FronCar was halfway to the barracks when the lights went out again. This time they stayed out. Momentarily night blind without the streetlamps to see by, he stumbled over a curb and fell, banging his knee and scraping his palms on the pavement. Emergency lights here and there kicked in and lit up the immediate area, but there weren’t enough of them to really see well. He got back to his feet and kept going, albeit with a noticeable limp. It took more than two minutes to reach the building they were using as a barracks, where hundreds of men were pouring out, looking for the trouble source.

In the faint glow of moonlight penetrating the thin cloud cover, FronCar recognized one of the men as Subregulator PrisGule.

“Subregulator, where’s Regulator FrebMol?”

“I-I don’t know, sir. Everything’s all mixed up right now.”

“All right. Then I’m putting you in charge here. Gather all the men, find weapons, and fan out. If we’re under attack, we need intel about where the attack is coming from, and the size and type of the attacking force. As soon as anyone sees something, they’re to report back to me. I’ll be waiting here.”

“Yes, sir!”

 

* * * *

 

This time, when he saw the glow of the barrier poles flicker, Daniels hesitated. But after five seconds, he decided it was down for the count and he floored it.

He tensed up, half-expecting the barrier to pop back up and obliterate him. He remembered what Amanda and Jay told the community about the barrier when they first arrived at the farmhouse. Then the Jilt was past it and up the street. They were in.

Now, he just had to find a quiet place to stash the Jilt, grab the duffle bags with the launcher and rockets, and hot-foot it up the street to look for targets. “Just.” He smiled to himself at how simple it sounded.

He couldn’t afford to drive too close to the middle of town, yet the farther away they were, the longer the hike to wherever there might be targets.

He finally spotted a small parking lot along a side street. Farther down the street he saw movement. This was close enough.

“Everyone out.”

Daniels made sure to leave the key in the ignition.

He
tried
to leave Hiram behind, but the pooch immediately started to claw at the window to get out. He turned to leave, but then thought better of it. If any aliens happened to be in the area and Hiram barked, they’d find the Jilt and their only hope of escape.

He opened the door to let the dog out.

“You can come, but you have to stay by me, and no barking. Okay?”

Hiram wagged his tail.

 

* * * *

 

As soon as Moose was sure the barrier was down for good, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator. He hunched over the wheel and said, “Dude, here we go!”

 

* * * *

 

The attack flight reached the target coordinates they were supposed to observe and report back on.

“Attack flight leader to Control.”

There was only silence in return.

“Repeat, attack flight leader to Control.”

Still silence.

“On the off-chance that you can receive, but not transmit, I see nothing out of the ordinary in the area. Repeat, nothing out of the ordinary on visual, thermal or UV. What are our orders? Repeat, what are our orders?”

After long seconds, he stopped waiting.

“Control, in the absence of orders, we’re returning to base.”

He waited for a few more seconds before giving the order to the other two in his flight. They swung back toward the city.

 

* * * *

 

The other flight leader and the two squads likewise found nothing when they arrived at the various coordinates minutes later.

 

* * * *

 

Once past the barrier, Moose went over Daniels’ instructions in his mind: “Look for a safe place to stash the Jilt. Get the gear out and split up for maximum coverage. Don’t worry about getting close to the park. You can hit a target from three miles away. Get just close enough that you can see the landing area. Find a secluded area with direct line of sight to fire from. And for godsake, make sure there’s no one behind you and that there’s a good hundred yards between you and any walls behind you, or the flaming backblast will reflect back at you and fry your ass.”

“Gotcha, Sarge, he muttered under his breath.

It took a few minutes to find a suitable place to leave the Jilt. Eventually he found one he liked.

“We’re here.”

The trio got out and removed the munitions from their protective cases and loaded them into the various duffel bags for easier transport. Each was packed with several towels to keep the projectiles from bumping around. One held a launcher and HEDP for Jason, the same for Tim, plus a second duffle containing an HEDP. Two more duffels went to Moose, one containing two Stingers, and the other with the launcher and third Stinger. In addition, each wore night-vision goggles, an assault rifle on their backs, and carried a pistol. They might need those on the way out.

Each of the three was weighed down by his burden, but they were loaded for bear and it was open season on bears.

 

* * * *

 

The procedure was much the same for Daniels, Julia, and Joanie. Julia carried a launcher and Serpent, while Joanie had only a second serpent. Daniels’ wrenched back protested the strain of carrying two rockets and a launcher, but he gritted his teeth and soldiered on.

They went two blocks together before they split up. The women went right, while Daniels went left.

“Don’t forget where we parked,” he called out softly.

 

* * * *

 

Daniels ducked back behind a dumpster as an alien soldier ran across the mouth of the alley ahead. Hiram ran under the dumpster to hide.

Close. Too close.

The only light came from the moon, but even that might be too much. Daniels made more of an effort to stay in the deep shadows of the night. At last, he found a suitable spot to wait.

He looked at his watch: 9:21 pm. Only nine more minutes until all hell broke loose.

 

* * * *

 

The soldiers spread out in all directions working their way toward the perimeter of the city. Even so, a city is a big place and they couldn’t cover all streets at once. There were plenty of gaps in their net.

 

* * * *

 

FronCar paced back and forth in front of the barracks building. He’d heard nothing from the soldiers sent out to canvass the area. The command center was still offline until the engineers could bring in and set up a portable generator.

In the meantime, he was blind, deaf, and dumb, with a duty to protect more than 12,000 civilians and soldiers in the city.

So far, nothing untoward had happened, apart from losing power. Maybe it was simply a malfunction at the power substation. But he couldn’t take that chance. Besides, those two sets of explosions were suspicious. They didn’t point to a short-circuit, or meltdown.

No, something was afoot. He continued to pace.

 

* * * *

 

Moose remembered Sarge’s advice: “A rooftop would be ideal, but an alleyway would work, too, as long as you have a clear line of sight to your target. And nothing big behind you.”

He struggled with his burden, hands starting to ache and shoulders burning, but he’d be damned if he’d fail in his mission.

After eight blocks, he thought he was close enough. There was a three-story apartment building to his left that had a flat roof. That would work out well. He left the duffel containing the two missiles by the entrance to the building. He wouldn’t need those in this building. According to Sarge, “After you fire, don’t stay around to watch. The missile will take care of the rest. Move fast, and then set up somewhere else.”

With only half the weight to carry, he was much better able to climb those three flights. But he was a big man. When he reached the third floor he had to stop for a moment  to catch his breath and sweat streamed down his face. He climbed the stairs to the rooftop. As he did so, his back tightened up on him.

At least his burden would be lighter for the next location.

The door was locked. He wasn’t about to admit defeat and walk all the way back downstairs for nothing. Besides, he had only a few minutes left to get into position before the fireworks began. He laid the duffel down, lowered his shoulder and rammed the door. It shivered, but didn’t open. He tried it again, with all the force he could muster.

This time the door sprang open, causing Moose to stumble and fall. His pride was more hurt than he was. An undignified beginning to what he was sure would be a glorious event.

He retrieved the duffel from the doorway and found a spot with a good view of the park. It was several blocks away, and nearly dark, except for some scattered lighting that must be powered by batteries, or whatever the aliens used instead.

He could fix that. He remembered Sarge’s final words on the subject: “To fire, simply activate the missile, acquire a steady lock-on tone, uncage the seeker, elevate the launcher, center the aiming reticle, and pull the trigger on the grip. Piece of cake. It sounds complicated, but you’ll be able do it all in seconds.”

He opened the seeker and turned it on. After only a few seconds, the screen lit up and showed a number of hot targets; hot as in abnormally warm. It hadn’t been quite as easy to do as it had seemed in practice, but back then he wasn’t sweating and breathing heavily. He then completed all but the last step. He had tone, a lock, and a missile ready to fire. It was just a matter of waiting until 9:30.

He relished what was to come.

Chapter Thirty-Four

 

By 9:24, everyone was in place and ready to go. Daniels and Hiram in an alley; Moose on a rooftop; Jason behind a wrecked school bus, disturbingly close to a crowd of aliens; Tim under a carport beside a flower shop; and Joanie and Julia in a used car lot between a minivan and a large SUV. Palms were sweaty, fingers flexed in anticipation, dry throats tried to swallow.

Now they just had to sit tight for six more minutes—and hope they didn’t get spotted in the meantime.

 

* * * *

 

The synchronized watches ticked 9:30. Everyone fired within a few seconds of one another.

With only 550 yards of effective range for the SMAW II Serpents, and firing from different locations, coming from two sides of the city, the selection of targets for each shooter was limited.

The night-vision goggles helped give them a general sense of what was happening in front of them, but the shooters had to rely on the launchers’ electronic fire control systems to locate and lock onto specific targets.

Each shooter had multiple targets to choose from, with different heat signatures and ranges. Some chose the brightest signature, indicating more heat and therefore more people or equipment, while others chose the closest target, each with the expectation that it gave their projectiles the best hope of hitting the target. With only seven Serpents between them, they couldn’t afford to waste any.

Jason, the most impatient, fired first. Because he had only one shot, he watched it hit. It struck with an impressive flash of light and a huge boom. Before he dropped the launcher and turned to run, a second explosion and then a third echoed off the buildings around him, or perhaps it was the same explosion.

Either way, he knew his rocket had struck home.

He ran with a huge grin on his face. “One for one! He retires with an undefeated record, and the crowd roars.”

 

* * * *

 

Tim Vickers fired second, an instant after Jason. He had two targets very close to one another. He figured he could take out both with one shot. Aiming carefully, he pulled the trigger. The rocket arrowed straight into a storefront and blew out the glass from the front and side windows in a gout of flame. Debris sprayed forward and to the right, smashing into the storefront across the street on that side. That was his other target.

“Yes!”

He turned, picked up his duffel and ran, looking for another vantage point and another target.

 

* * * *

 

Daniels was third, by another fraction of a second. He targeted a building with a large heat signature on the second floor. If his rocket hit high or low, it might miss the target enough that the respective floor or ceiling might shield the target.

But he’d had to fire into cave openings in Afghanistan, so this was nothing new for him. He acquired tone, made sure his target was centered in the aiming reticle, let out his breath and squeezed. The rocket would go where he aimed it. He immediately turned to leave. He listened for the explosion and watched for the flash of light to be reflected on the buildings around him. He wasn’t disappointed.

Unlike the others, he didn’t take joy at hitting back at the aliens. He was grimly determined. It was unlikely that all of the nine—if any—would survive this night. Even if they survived the attack itself, escape was problematical. The aliens could probably bombard the area surrounding the city from space. It was unlikely that they could get far enough away from the city to avoid being pulverized from that.

This was most likely humanity’s last stand and, like the Alamo, it could end only one way.

 

* * * *

 

Julia fired fourth. Her target was a tall building with a bright heat signature near the top. She guessed the aliens were using it as a control tower for the landing area. If she could knock that out, it might disrupt the aliens’ ability to coordinate take-offs and landings temporarily.

She had a bit of difficulty raising the mouth of the launcher high enough to point it at the target on the 14
th
floor. Because she was aiming so high, the back end of the launcher was pointing down at the ground. Mindful of Daniels’ admonition to stay away from walls or enclosed spaces, because of the flaming exhaust, she decided to climb atop the roof of the big-ass SUV next to her.

Joanie handed the launcher—loaded with a rocket—up to her. Then Joanie climbed up with Julia to help support the front of the launcher.

After a few seconds of jostling while the two women got into position, Julia said, “Hold it right there. Perfect. Just a sec…”

She got target lock and held it steady. The jolt of the rocket launch threw her off balance. She fell off the back of the SUV and landed on her back hard enough to knock the breath out of her. The launcher smacked the ground.

But from that position, she had a perfect view of the rocket impact against the building. Although it hit the wall, rather than the window, the results were impressive. The windows on the four sides shattered outward an instant before the walls blew. Then the peaked roof of the building tilted, slid, and then crashed down onto the street below. The impact was followed by much screaming and wailing.

Joanie jumped down off the roof and helped Julia stand, gingerly, holding her back.

“Thanks. I’ll-I’ll be fine. Let’s go find somewhere else to shoot from.”

She picked up the launcher, noticing some scrapes and dings, and hoped it was intact enough to fire. If a circuit board had cracked the launcher would be useless. If the rocket jammed in the tube and exploded inside the launcher…

 

* * * *

 

Several craft on the ground powered up their engines, preparing to lift off.

Moose couldn’t decide which target to fire on. Then the seeker spotted the incoming attack flight.

He decided to take out one of them instead. He waited until the flight got closer before firing. Because of that, he was the last to fire off his first shot.

It was spectacular. He targeted the lead ship and squeezed the trigger. Then he watched the trail of flame and smoke track the ship.

It took less than two seconds to reach its target. The ship exploded in a brilliant fireball that lit up the entire area for several seconds. Shrapnel and debris flew in every direction, some of it almost reaching the building he was standing atop. More importantly, some flew up and backward, striking the second ship and causing it to lose control. The carcass of the destroyed ship continued forward as it fell. It crashed in the middle of the landing area, damaging several other ships around it. The second ship impacted on the east side of the park, crashing into a seven-story office building and exploding. Debris from the ship and the building rained down on the crowd ringing the park.

The third ship, apparently following the trail of smoke, fired at the building, striking it on the second floor. Bricks and debris exploded outward, creating a cloud of dust and smoke that momentarily.

The explosion knocked Moose from his feet.

“Shit!”

He scrambled to his feet, remembered to grab the launcher, and ran for the door hoping to reach it before the alien fired again. He had just reached the top of the stairs when the rooftop exploded behind him with a green glow from the second shot. The force of the explosion hurled Moose down the stairs, where he hit the far wall and crumpled to the floor, unmoving.

 

* * * *

 

As soon as he saw/heard/felt the first explosion, FronCar ran back toward the command center. He hadn’t gotten more than a few paces away when a rocket flew into the barracks behind him and detonated, tossing him like a child’s toy. He landed in a heap twenty paces from where he’d been. At this moment, he
really
regretted that the viceroy hadn’t taken his recommendation to bombard the planet from orbit.

 

* * * *

 

Moose groaned and picked himself up. It took a moment for his head to clear before he could make himself pick up the launcher and stumble down the stairs. By the time he was fully lucid again, he’d reached the door and retrieved the duffel he’d left there with the other two Stingers and his night-vision goggles. After donning the goggles, he jogged at the best pace his sore shoulder and strained muscles would allow, looking for another spot to fire from.

This time, however, it wouldn’t be from a rooftop. That third ship was still up there looking for him.

 

* * * *

 

FronCar raised himself to his hands and knees with difficulty. His back hurt like he’d been kicked by a Greater Blarin. He reached around to feel, and found several pieces of shrapnel protruding. They were small and he pulled them out, enduring the pain. The bleeding was minor. He decided to ignore it for the time being. If there was still shrapnel where he couldn’t reach, he’d deal with that later. Right now, he needed to get to the command center to make sure they got power back up. If he couldn’t communicate with his soldiers and pilots, he was useless.

That’s a feeling he never wanted to have.

 

* * * *

 

Jason ran down a back alley in the general direction of where Daniels had parked the Jilt. He rounded the corner. Four aliens trotted away from him, side by side.

Even though he’d been expressly warned to avoid all contact with the enemy, unless unavoidable, he saw this as an opportunity to strike another blow for freedom.

He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out the M576 Buckshot Round, designed for close-quarters combat. Then he inserted it into the M203 under-barrel grenade launcher attached to his assault weapon. He’d been itching to try it out.

He ran after the aliens as quietly as possible to close the gap. Before he got within twenty yards, one of the aliens must have heard something, because he turned his head to look over his shoulder.

He said something to the others and they all came to a stop and turned. Jason stopped as well, heart pounding, thinking, “This is it. You can do it.”

He shifted his grip from the gun to the grenade launcher, raised the weapon, and pulled the trigger an instant before one of the aliens did.

Two things happened almost instantaneously: One, the twenty metal pellets contained within the M576 round exploded outward as if from a shotgun, shredding the two aliens in the middle and seriously wounding the others; and two, the top of Jason’s head blew off.

He would have turned sixteen in three days.

 

* * * *

 

Tim huffed and puffed to a stop behind a panel truck. A trio of aliens crossed the street ahead of him. It was getting harder to avoid being seen. At least he had the night-vision goggles. It would be hard for them to sneak up on him.

As soon as he was sure they were gone, he eased his way out and crept up to the corner of the building ahead, to see if anyone else was coming. The coast was clear and he dashed across. He heard a commotion up ahead and hurried to see what was going on. When he reached the next corner, he saw something straight out of Dante’s Inferno: the flaming wreck of the alien ship that Moose had winged with shrapnel, buildings on fire, wreckage strewn everywhere.

It was at once horrifying and satisfying to see.

But he didn’t have time for gawking. He needed to find another target. He got the launcher and his second rocket ready to go. Then he used the thermal sight to scan the area for targets. This was made more difficult by all the fires within range. The goggles helped a little, but not much. The other ships in the landing area were beyond his reach. He went back to thermal and scanned the buildings.

There! On the ground floor of one of the buildings was a hotspot, a heat source. He didn’t know what the target was, but the Serpent locked onto it. He fired and the rocket jetted out of the launcher, straight at the target.

An instant later, a flash and another ground-shaking explosion signaled success.

He smiled, dropped the no longer needed launcher, grabbed his assault rifle, and turned back toward the Jilt.

 

* * * *

 

FronCar hadn’t gotten more than halfway to the command center when a blinding flash struck it and it exploded. So much for his power source. So much for his command center.

He reversed course and ran, instead, toward the landing area. If he could find an undamaged ship, he could use its communication gear. Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner? Stupid!

There was no point in castigating himself now. He could do that later after he’d eliminated the threat to his people.

 

* * * *

 

Moose stood on the back of a dump truck full of sand. The footing was precarious, but it gave him enough height that he could see over the wrecked vehicles blocking the way in front of him. He scanned the sky for ships, hoping to find the attack ship that had shot at him. Or, failing that, a big fat cargo ship to bring down.

BOOK: Aliens Versus Zombies
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