“The good thing is that we’ve got a pretty safe operation where we’re going. We’ve been able to keep our military somewhat organized through all the chaos.”
“And where might that be?” John asked.
“Fort Campbell.”
Reno had had a friend stationed at Fort Campbell around the time he’d moved to Nashville. The military base was only about an hour and a half’s drive from Nashville, and Reno had gone up to see him a couple of times.
“Have you received any other reports?” Reno asked.
“Washington is a fucking nightmare. Domed, but with heavy resistance and some getting out. Maybe the way your girl did.” Matthews shrugged. “But communication from there has been intermittent and the tech isn’t holding up. We’re getting a lot of static across all the FM and shortwave bands.”
“Estimates on casualties?” John asked.
The sergeant went silent. He and the other soldiers looked at each other, and then he cleared his throat.
“It’s bad. No one knows for sure, but we’ve heard numbers in the billions.”
A cold silence seeped through the back of the transport. Only hours ago, Reno had been celebrating their apparent victory alongside the National Guard. But the news had only gotten worse since he’d come out from under the dome. Other cities had been domed. Some destroyed. Millions of people dead. Reno slumped, and his mouth went dry. He’d just taken a breath to ask a question when an explosion ended the uncomfortable silence.
The transport shook like the highway had been rocked by the seismic temper of an earthquake. Reno slung forward, toppling to the floor of the vehicle. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see John trying to pull him up. He took John’s arm, who helped him back into his seat.
“Thanks.”
John nodded, then asked, “What was that?”
As the rumbling stopped, Matthews asked the driver, “Did you see what did that?”
“No, sir, Sergeant Matthews.”
Matthews stood and walked to the back of the transport. He looked out, glancing around and then pointing at the sky. Reno knew instantly that the sarge wasn’t admiring the morning’s white, fluffy clouds.
Another man gasped as he looked out. “My God.”
Reno scampered to the back and stood beside Matthews and the other soldier. He followed the Sergeant’s gaze upward.
A celestial rake of red laser beams were cutting through the clouds, and they were heading right for them.
16
Fire erupted thirty feet into the air from where the laser beams had hit the building to the side of the road. Smoke billowed upward in thick, pulsing clouds, and Reno could already see that there was nothing but rubble where the building had once stood. John reached down and offered his hand to Reno, helping him to his feet.
“Shit, man, you alright?”
“I’m fine.” Reno sat back down on the bench seat in the back of the transport. “Where did that come from?”
John shrugged. “No idea.”
“You got a visual on it, Turner?” Sergeant Matthews glared at a young soldier who was looking out the back of the vehicle through binoculars.
“Negative, sir. No sight of anything.”
“Goddamnit.” Matthews pulled the radio off of his belt and raised it to his mouth. “Bulldog 1, did you get a visual on what the hell that was?”
“Negative, Bulldog 2,” a soldier said from the other end.
“Should we fire at it, sir?” one of the soldiers asked.
“Fire at what?” Matthews shook his head and threw his hands into the air. “We don’t know what the fuck it is orwhere it is. So, for now, you can sit down and not say anything else stupid. You got—”
A second explosion hit the transport, the concussion sending Matthews and another soldier tumbling to the floor. Reno looked outside again to see flames burning the sky, these followed by black smoke. This detonation had felt closer, probably less than half-a-mile away. Reno craned his neck and looked into the sky, but he couldn’t see what was shooting at them. But the strikes seemed to be moving closer.
A couple of soldiers tried to help Matthews to his feet, but he pushed them away, brushing some dirt off his pants. The grizzled soldier chuckled as he pushed away their help.
“Should I stay on this course, sir?” the soldier driving asked.
“Did I tell you otherwise? Stay on course but give ‘er some more gas.”
The transport sped up and Reno looked to John, seeing the man’s mouth open and his forehead creased. Reno had seen firsthand the devastation brought by the aliens. For the first time, he paused to think about the advanced machines and technology they had brought to Earth. Trying to outrun their tech would be pointless. With the thought, Reno worried that Matthews’ arrogance and pride could get him and everyone around him killed. He wanted to caution the sergeant, but the man had already begun barking into his radio again.
“Bulldog 1, do you have visual yet?”
“Not yet, sir. We’re trying to establish some—”
The ground shook again, and this time Reno closed his eyes as the vehicle vibrated, powerful energy waves slamming into the transport like a heavy crosswind on an exposed highway.
“Shit!” the driver screamed.
Reno looked out the front of the transport to see fire and smoke where Bulldog 1 had been. The driver swerved to avoid the wreckage. Reno grabbed a hanging strap and braced himself as the transport went up onto two wheels, then toppled onto its side.
The sound of tearing metal made Reno wince as the smell of diesel fuel and burning rubber burned his eyes. Bodies slammed into his and the men inside the transport screamed as the vehicle slid along the asphalt roadway in a shower of sparks.
When the transport finally came to a stop, Reno looked around. He was on his stomach, unsure if he was on the floor or the roof. A soldier was on Reno’s back, groaning. When Reno asked the man to get up, he didn’t get a reply.
Reno pushed up and tilted his shoulder to the right until the injured man slid off his back. Now on his knees, Reno looked around.
Bodies lay sprawled around the space, a few of them corkscrewed into unnatural positions. The smell of copper filled his nostrils as blood began to pool on the floor. Reno looked down at the soldier who’d been on top of him—Turner, the man who’d been using binoculars to try and get a visual on the alien ship. The soldier stared upward, eyes open and unblinking with his chest still.
Reno heard a groan from the opposite side of the vehicle.
John rolled over onto his side, facing Reno. He had a cut on his forehead, and blood spider-webbing down his face. Reno slid over to the cop.
“You’re gonna be alright, John.”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. But look at this, man.”
John’s speech had slurred, like he’d started in on his second six-pack of the night. Reno looked into his eyes—glassy, pupils dilated. Reno took John’s hand and set it over the wound.
“Keep pressure on it.”
Reno looked around then, finding a canvas strap that had come loose from a piece of gear. It wasn’t exactly sterile, but he had to stop the bleeding first and hope they’d live long enough to worry about infection.
“I think they’re all dead,” John said.
Reno pulled the strap tight around John’s head and then scanned the transport. He had no way of knowing if that was true, but he didn’t have the time to do a formal check. Reno couldn’t possibly carry every injured soldier to safety before the aliens finished them off. He paused, interrupted mid-thought by a subtle vibration humming through the transport’s steel frame.
“We’ve got to get out of here.”
“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”