Beyond Armageddon: Book 03 - Parallels (7 page)

            "Fink?" Stone said. "Where is Hoth?"

            Lori shrugged. "How the Hell am I supposed to know?"

            Moments later Casey Fink descended the stairs into the basement. Jon Brewer intercepted him before he could reach the table and grilled him as to Hoth's disposition. Fink responded with a whisper in Jon's ear while handing him a note. A moment later Jon came to Trevor's side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

            "Could I speak to you for a moment?"

            Brewer led Trevor to a corner and carried on a hushed conversation. The others at the table shared concerned glances but otherwise waited.

            After several minutes, the two men returned to the table but something was wrong with Trevor; his eyes glazed over and he sort of stumbled as he walked, almost zombie-like.

"Okay, um," Stone coughed and started the meeting. Instead of making eye contact with the others as he always did, Trevor stared at his hands clasped in front of him on the table top. "Let’s go around and get updates from everyone. Let's, um, Shep, let’s start with you."

Instead of reporting, Shepherd said, "Seems to me we should be waiting for Hoth, right?"

Jon answered for Trevor, "He’s not coming. Casey here is standing in for Hoth today."

"That's rather unusual, isn't it?" Shep did not really ask, he more demanded.

Trevor conceded, "General Hoth did not want to leave his post at this time. He did not want to, um, leave because he has a group of missing soldiers out there."

The room waited for more.

Trevor swallowed hard and finally looked up.

"The Dark Wolves failed to report in from a mission. They are considered M.I.A."

Trevor turned his eyes to Shepherd. Nina was like a daughter to him. Trevor understood that Shep deserved an answer.

"Nina Forest is missing."

---

            The runes emitted a vibration of energy, like static electricity filling the cavern. The nature of that energy—in fact everything about the runes—befuddled Omar, Reverend Johnny, and everyone else who tried to understand the strange objects.

Made of something resembling rock, the two jagged pillars stood six feet tall on a shared base, each crowned by a silver orb permanently stamped with the handprints of Jon Brewer.

            Symbols were etched into the columns, seemingly placed randomly and resembling just about every form of alphabet Earth had ever known, yet remaining undecipherable.

After Jon Brewer and his team had returned home from their expedition to the north, Trevor blasted out a cave in one of the rocky mountains behind the estate. Massive iron doors, a complex security system, and a cadre of both humans and K9s stood guard.

            Hundreds of aliens resided at the "Chase" prison a few miles away in Jackson Township while they waited their turn through the runes or, in some cases, diversion to the Red Rock research facility for scientific examination.

            At any one time the prison held a hundred Hivvans and a few dozen Platypuses'. Plenty of room remained in Chase but humanity rarely sought surrender from the invaders; Trevor and mankind spoke of liberation but beneath that noble cause simmered a dark desire for revenge.

On that particular Saturday afternoon, a line of ten Hivvans—bipedal reptiles—moved through the cave guarded by Doberman Pinschers and Internal Security officers. They marched toward the runes on the far side of a round chamber illuminated by portable lights.

            Trevor sat in a dark corner on a pile of boulders. He watched as the aliens, one by one, stepped between the pillars. Each time the letters on the runes glowed as the alien dissolved into molecules that faded away from Earth ostensibly to reassemble on their home planet.

            He watched, allowing his eyes to grow mesmerized by the sight while his mind considered that morning's meeting.

Prescott
's Army Group South planned an attack on the last two Hivvan colonies of any size at Little Rock and Shreveport. Prescott faced the challenge of knocking out the enemy's defenses without harming the nearly ten thousand slaves at those camps and doing so fast enough that the Hivvans could not exterminate their slaves if they chose that route.

            Army Group Center slowed its westward movement due to the poor condition of infrastructure in the Tennessee Mountains as well as the need to disperse Stonewall's 2
^nd
Mechanized Infantry into smaller units to support Hunter-Killer teams liquidating extraterrestrial monsters in the region.

            However, they found a significantly higher survival rate in the Smokey Mountains. Shepherd's Army Group kept finding enclaves of people ranging in size from extended families to small villages, all hardened by six years of survival but eager to join the expanding Empire.

            Casey Fink reported on behalf of General Hoth that Army Group North remained in place, stuck outside of Washington Court House. This time the delay did not come from supply problems or sick soldiers. Instead, Hoth held back his advance for a reason that could not be explained on a map or in a report: instinct.

            "General Hoth is planning limited operations in the near future and will focus on intelligence gathering until the situation in Ohio becomes clearer," Fink had reported.

            Trevor and the others at the table easily read between the lines. While losing Special Forces operators did not qualify as an unusual occurrence, the circumstances around the Dark Wolves' disappearance suggested something larger at work. A trap? A ruse?

            On top of that, a sizeable force of crazy 'Roachbots' threatened Hoth's southern flank. Until he dealt with that, major thrusts westward could not be contemplated.

           
Nina is missing.

            And there it was. The gigantic elephant in the room of Trevor's mind. He listened to the reports at that morning's conference but could not hear well because his mind—his heart—focused on the fate of the only woman he ever truly loved.

Time had not healed the wound. How could it? She had not left him but had been taken; her memories—the person she became during that year with him—wiped clean. Time had merely dulled the pain; time and distance.

            Could he go back to his office and push pins around a map not knowing her fate?

            He knew—he accepted—that Nina would most likely meet a warrior's fate one day. Her purpose was to fight. She knew who she was—a natural born soldier—even if she did not understand the why. The result? A shy woman; an outcast. Yet she never gave in. She refused to change for the sake of acceptance.

            Armageddon gave her skills a noble purpose and eventually Trevor unlocked the lonely person hiding inside. He found the compassion in her. He found the warmth. He helped turn the shy little girl into a complete person just as she allowed him an escape from his burdens when the weight grew too heavy.

            If she died in battle, her body flown home for a soldier’s funeral, then it would be over and he could grieve the loss. But her fate remained a mystery.

            Years ago Trevor fell into the hands of The Order, arguably the most dangerous entity invading Earth. He suffered horrible torments at their hands to the point that he wondered how he remained sane.

            What if Nina suffered a similar fate? Could he sit in his office pushing pins and signing orders—doing nothing!—with that possibility? Even now, was Nina covered in Bore Bugs or in the clutches of one of The Order's Torture-Spiders?

            Trevor knew he could never be with her again. The woman he loved no longer existed. Yet that did not matter. He could not—
he would not
--abandon her.

            For more than six years he followed the Old Man's orders; he selflessly lived for the cause even when it cost him the love of his life; even when it cost him his soul at New Winnabow. For more than six years he had been nothing other than a leader.

            Not now. This time he would be something else; something he had not been in a long, long time.

            A man.

---

            Contrary to legend, Trevor Stone had not instantaneously turned into an all-knowing, all-conquering hero when the invaders arrived on Earth.

Indeed, during those first hours of Armageddon, Trevor pissed himself in fear, ran from every monster he faced, and would have been dinner for a Deadhead if not for Tyr and Odin, his pet Elkhounds.

Furthermore, he probably would have died of exposure in the middle of the forest had he not happened upon the Old Man. At that point the mysterious entity told Trevor of his destiny to survive, fight, and sacrifice.

The Old Man offered three gifts, although the visit by Trevor's crazed half-brother cast doubt on the origin of at least one of those gifts.

Nonetheless, the first gift had been a well-stocked estate, perfect for weathering the initial storm. The second, the camaraderie of the canines, giving him an instant army. Both of these gifts on display for all to see. The third gift, however, remained a mystery even to his close friends. Only Nina had ever seen it, and that memory was erased.

Trevor descended into the mansion basement, the conference table sat empty. He worked his way to a door under the stairs and opened it. Inside this utility closet he found a hot water heater and a cabinet which he shoved to the side revealing a small gray door.

He wondered if the door really existed. After all, the key that unlocked it hung on a chain around his neck yet was never visible unless he needed it, as he did now.

With a dull
click
the door unlocked. Trevor snapped on a flashlight and descended a dark staircase to a small chamber framed in earthen walls, smelling of damp air, and filled with a soft hum.

Against the far wall waited a table holding the type of cliché treasure chest that a Hollywood Blackbeard might seek.

Trevor opened that chest. A round object drifted out bathing the chamber in soft blue light. Inside the sphere hovered a double helix; the representation of human DNA.

"Time to recharge," Stone mumbled to himself as he reached toward the glowing orb as if warming his hands in a campfire. As he did, a bout of lightheadedness caused him to stumble, nearly fall to the dirt floor.

He did not understand exactly how it worked. He did not feel some flood of knowledge or visions, just a sense of dizziness. However, in the hours ahead he would find new memories in his mental library. Memories of soldiers and scientists, professors and politicians. He knew there were limits but the only boundary he had truly hit was one of medicine; his skills in that arena remained limited to basic first aid.

What puzzled him most, however, was that the knowledge of how to fly the alien Redcoat shuttles—renamed 'Eagles'--came to him from this source. If this was a sphere of only human genetic memories, then why did the memories of an alien pilot exist therein?

Trevor backed away from the sphere as the dizziness grew. As he did, the glowing orb returned to the chest. He then quickly shut the lid, locking it in until he might need it again.

---

            Trevor read the title of the
Sesame Street
book JB selected for his bed time read: "The Monster at the end of this book…starring lovable furry old Grover!"

            Of course Jorge could easily read the book himself, but Trevor knew JB enjoyed hearing his father do the reading and, as usual, adding dramatic flare to the words. So Trevor lay on the small bed with his son—dressed in fire engine pajamas—curled close.    

            As for the book, it depicted the friendly monster Grover attempting to stop the reader from turning the pages in order to avoid the monster at the end of the book, as per the title.

            Trevor read to his boy but his mind raced in other directions. His bags were packed and he had ordered his personal Eagle pilot—Rick Hauser—to prepare for a morning trip. Most important, he formulated a plausible lie for Ashley about a surprise visit to Ohio to boost morale.

            In truth, he planned to recruit a handful of Hoth's men and duplicate Nina's path. If she lived, he aimed to find her. If not, he would bring her body home. She deserved as much.

            He did his best to concentrate on the plan instead of his doubt. No, not doubt,
guilt.

            For more than six years now, Trevor served only one mission. He played the role of a link on the Old Man's "chain" without straying. He had fought, sacrificed, and even murdered in the name of the cause. Now he risked everything to find a memory that existed only for him.

            Trevor matched the guilt with anger and determination:
I don't give a damn.

            The conclusion of the book neared and Grover feared the looming confrontation with whatever creature waited at the end; the cartoon character begged the reader not to turn the page.

            Suddenly, Jorgie's hand slapped down on the book, achieving what Grover could not: stopping Trevor from turning to the final page.