It passed through him and continued on for another mile or so across the frozen wastelands before evaporating.
“What in the name of Jesus was that?” He spoke aloud but even before he finished the words something more interesting grabbed his attention.
The Wraiths. The Vikings.
Gone…
…Everything went silent. The gears and wires and pendulums froze. No energy flowed in the complex except for whatever powered the lights.
The enigma was solved. The walls of the structure locked open. Cold air filtered in from outside.
Brewer saw his hand print forever sealed in the top of each orb, marking this world for humanity.
The General collapsed to his knees, then to the floor, and rolled over on his back.
At first it sounded like a sob but as it grew in volume it became a laugh. A laugh from Jon Brewer’s lips.
With the machinery now silent, he heard the voices of the surviving members of the entry team. He also heard the unmistakable voice of Reverend Johnny somewhere on the ridge above tending to Cooper: “Easy does it…easy does it…you’ll be okay, praise the Lord.”
Jon Brewer closed his eyes and saw his daughter’s face.
“I’m coming home, sweat pea. I’m coming home.”
24. Ten ‘Til Midnight
“The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil water-way leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky-seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.”
— Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
A long-term storage facility served as the center point of the Hivvan supply depot at Dillon.
Stonewall directed his division’s advance in multiple prongs, with the main force using a railroad line as its avenue of approach. His troops penetrated deep into Dillon uncontested and then charged at the dome-shaped alien structures that served as a Hivvan logistics hub.
A rearguard of two Firecats and fifty or so light infantry remained, but the alien defenders broke, ran, or were killed by one of General Garret McAllister’s famous cavalry charges.
The 2 ^ nd Mechanized Infantry Division secured Dillon moving block to block and house to house where they found nearly one-hundred human slaves alive and in hiding. They found three times that number dead in the street, executed minutes before liberation.
McAllister’s men also searched those dome-shaped warehouses that had channeled materials north and east for the lizards’ Grand Army. They found an impressive stock of ammunition, energy cells, vehicle spare parts, and Hivvan military clothing; a sign that the matter transfiguration equipment in Columbia produced a tremendous quantity of materials.
Stonewall dismounted his horse in the parking lot of the Dillon Church of God where his headquarters unit set up camp. Benny Duda supervised the unloading of equipment from a cargo truck while others hurried inside to establish an aid station as well as a communications center.
Kristy Kaufman, flanked by cavalry soldiers, approached, dismounted, saluted, and reported, “General, Sir, we have established checkpoints around the perimeter of the city and have completed the first wave of neighborhood sweeps. We killed two Hivvan snipers down by the cemetery, but otherwise our men faced no opposition within the city limits.”
“And Captain McBride?”
“Dustin’s patrol went as far south as Latta where they spotted the remainder of the Hivvan rearguard. He says they showed no signs of looking for a fight.”
“It is good news all around then. Splendid.”
“Mission accomplished, General,” Kristy said, and then added with a wry smile, “Maybe next time they’ll give you something a little more challenging.”
“Oh, now, let’s be careful what we wish for, Captain Kaufman. Our victory here will be short lived if General Shepherd does not-how should I say this? — get his ass moving. We still must march to the sea to seal the pocket once we receive word that Conway has been occupied.”
“Now General, Sir, that is tomorrow’s worry. Today we can take satisfaction in yet another victory.” She then deepened her voice in an imitation of Bear Ross and shouted, “Three cheers for the General!”
The cavalry soldiers and headquarters staff raised their voice and pumped their fists.
“HOO-RAH!
“HOO-RAH!
“HOO-RAH!”
Their General was, after all, the one and only Stonewall McAllister.
While Nina Forest spent the day shopping with Denise Cannon and Jon Brewer fought his way through a city-sized machine, Trevor Stone walked along Route 17 toward the enclave of New Winnabow.
He traveled alone with no dogs, no soldiers, no planes or tanks.
As he neared the settlement, he saw a new, more robust checkpoint complete with crude tank traps made from scrap metal and razor wire slung haphazardly over wood supports.
New Winnabow, it seemed, prepared for battle.
Rifles and pistols cocked and aimed as he approached the checkpoint. Trevor saw the hands holding those weapons shiver. He walked alone and unarmed toward their barbed wire and their loaded guns yet they were afraid of him.
How ironic, he thought considering how much New Winnabow scared the Hell out of him. He wondered, what kind of monster am I classified as in their Hostiles Database?
“Halt!”
He did so, and raised his empty hands in the air.
The guards would not let him pass. Instead, Robert Parsons came to the checkpoint. The two leaders stood face to face in the center of the road under an afternoon sun.
“I am giving no more tours, Mr. Stone. Unless you have come here to bid us farewell, you are not welcome.”
“You know why I am here.”
“Ah yes, this would be the point at which you threaten us, correct? Now you will tell us how much destruction you will visit upon our town if we do not relent.”
Stone corrected, “No, I’m here to beg you. To ask your permission to allow us to march through your village for a good cause. What does it take? We have reached the end. The clock will soon strike midnight. This must be resolved here, now.”
“I have told you, we shall not let you pass. This is our home and we control what happens here. No army shall march on our streets. We would become a part of your war and it would be the first step on a path we refuse to follow. It would be the beginning of our end.”
Trevor did not debate, he only said, “You are giving me no choice.”
The older man’s eyes widened. Clearly Trevor’s words angered him. “You have a choice! Stop being so arrogant for a moment and listen to yourself.”
“Arrogant?” Stone matched Parson’s anger. “Who is arrogant?”
“You are! You arrogantly assume that your needs-your goals-are loftier than ours. You want us to put aside what is important to our community to make way for you. That is arrogance!”
“You far surpass my vanity,” Stone said in a subdued voice conveying a mix of anger and sadness. “You say I am arrogant? Look at yourself. You know what might happen to your city. Yet you put your own pride above the good of your people. A leader must have ideals, this is true, but a leader must also know what battles to fight, and when to stand down.”
Parsons scoffed, “You would say anything to have your way.”
“I would say anything to save my people. I will do anything to further the cause. If that means retreat, then I will retreat. If that means attack, then I will attack. If that means to demean myself or risk my life or give up what I value most…well I have done all of that already. But you…you are obviously not willing to sacrifice anything for the greater good.”
“The greater good means nothing without principles.”
“Wrong,” Trevor corrected. “The survival of our species is at stake. The only greater good that matters right now is ensuring we do not go extinct. That is the responsibility I bear. If that means I must destroy your city, I will do so.”