“Take aim,” he ordered, watching the targeting display carefully. He’d assigned targets before seeing the aliens and it was a relief to see that his orders would hold. If the aliens had done something else, two or more tanks might have gone for the same target. That would have left at least one enemy tank completely unengaged. “Any sign of air support?”
“No, sir,” the observer called, from his position outside the tank. “They’re on their own.”
“Probably think they don’t need it,” Wallis said, and grinned. It didn’t matter how deadly the KEWs were; it would still take time for them to call in a strike on his position, and by then he would have moved. He wondered what the aliens thought of it; he would have given his teeth for a Warthog or a B52 high overhead, providing cover to the tankers. “Prepare to fire…”
He peered at the oncoming form of the alien tank for a long moment. “Fire!”
The Abrams shook as it fired, the sound of the shot deafening, even through the tank’s armour. He’d ordered the crewmen outside to wear their ear-protectors, but if they’d slipped up even slightly, they’d have been deafened. There wasn’t time to worry about them; he barked orders and the tank’s turret hurriedly traversed to the next target, barking out a second shot towards the alien vehicle. The first shell, he saw with some relief, had blown right through the alien vehicle and left it in flaming wreckage, the second had had a similar result. Their tank, he saw with a burst of emotion that surprised him, were far from invincible. Between them, nine alien tanks were in ruins…
“Move us,” he ordered. The driver didn’t have to be told twice; he gunned the engine and the tank rocketed backwards, out of the rear entrance of the warehouse. They’d be visible from orbit now, but there was no helping that, not now; a moment after they’d vacated the warehouse, a thunderous explosion shook the entire complex and sent the warehouse up in flames. “Get us to the second firing position!”
An echoing sound announced the arrival of return fire. The aliens were firing into all of the warehouses, not just the ones occupied by the tanks, and shattering explosions blew through the complex. Warehouse after warehouse was wiped out, destroying two of the Abrams along with them, destroyed before their crews could escape. His vehicle rocked and shook as it reached the next firing position, where he could see the aliens tanks ripping apart the complex and, behind them, alien infantrymen dismounting from their armoured fighting vehicles. They probably intended to storm whatever remained of the complex and deal with the human survivors before they could escape to fight again. They had to be… delayed.
“Fire,” he snapped. They had to act quickly before the aliens saw them. “Fire at will!”
The Abrams fired twice in quick succession while the driver put the vehicle through a spinning series of manoeuvres. It wasn’t quick enough. An alien missile, fired from an invisible drone a kilometre above the tank, blew through the turret and roasted the crew alive. The alien infantry pushed through the National Guardsmen and engaged them in brutal fighting, before sealing the complex off and pushing onwards towards Austin.
“This is the emergency broadcast system,” the voice said. Coming from a pair of old laptop speakers, it was somehow tinny and almost inaudible. The power supply had fallen to almost nothing and the laptop — and the entire apartment — was running on batteries. They had never thought of a portable generator. “Austin is under attack.”
“No shit,” Joshua growled. It had been increasingly obvious, as they’d watched from the roof, that the city was on the verge of coming under assault. It was clever of Governor Brogan and his staff to think of using streaming internet radio for their transmission, but the entire network in Austin was on the verge of failing. Joshua suspected that between the alien bombardment and human incompetence, the national communications system was about to fall apart. It hadn’t been designed with this sort of mistreatment in mind. “Tell us something we don’t know, you fat pig!”
Governor Brogan kept talking. “I do not know what will become of us under alien rule, but I urge every citizen to remain calm and refrain from rash acts,” he continued. “Our attempts to signal the aliens have met with no response, but they cannot want to slaughter us all. I hope — I believe — that peaceful co-existence is possible.”
He sounds like a broken man, Joshua thought, feeling an unexpected burst of sympathy for the Governor. He had never respected the man before the invasion had begun, but now… what would he do now? He’s watching his entire state being dismantled in front of his eyes. Does he want to surrender?
“Please remain calm and obey their instructions,” the governor said, his voice now weaker than ever. “Please don’t attempt to resist them…”
“Turn it off,” the gun nut snapped. “They’re not going to sell us out to them!”
“Be reasonable,” Mr Adair said, grimly. “What are you going to do against the aliens with your hunting rifle? There’s an entire army out there.”
There was another burst of firing in the distance. This burst seemed to go on forever, a horrendous mixture of weapons and explosions. He couldn’t tell, even, the direction of the shooting; it all seemed to have blended into one catastrophic whole. Three massive explosions, each one larger than the last, shook the walls and sent dust tumbling down from the ceiling. They’d taped over the windows, remembering that that had worked back in London, during the Blitz, but the sound was just getting closer. The weapons had to have fallen within a kilometre of their position…
“I’m going to join the militia,” the gun nut said, and slipped out of the room before anyone could object.
Joshua watched him go. The militia had been organised, quickly, to back up the defenders of the city… and, looking at them, he suspected that they would be more dangerous to themselves than the enemy. Some of them had military experience, but others merely shot at ranges, if they shot at all. The reservists and most ex-military types had been recalled to join the army. They wouldn’t be providing vital and experienced leadership.
“I’m going up to the roof,” he said, and left the room as well. He looked down towards the basement, where they’d placed the children and everyone who hadn’t wanted to remain above the ground floor, before heading upwards. The entire building shook, again, as he staggered up the stairs, taking a moment to unlock the padlock they’d placed on the door. They hadn’t wanted someone on the roof when the aliens entered the city, but Joshua knew that if he could provide an eyewitness report…
No, he thought, as he stepped onto the roof. This was for him.
Austin was burning. Wherever he looked, there was a fire, burning through the city. The sound of shooting had been bad inside, but outside it was worse, an endless cacophony. He saw a line of missiles fired somewhere from within the city, aimed at the aliens on the outskirts, only to see the missies explode in fight and their launch site explode a moment later. The defenders were being forced back into the city, cleared out building by building, while the aliens pushed closer to the apartment. Streaks of light fell from the heavens, picking off strongpoints one by one, shattering the defenders. Army, National Guard, police forces, militia… they were dying out there, dying to defend their city.