Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. (26 page)

***

An hour later, rising, Ash took Steven’s hand and led him to the river. Wading out, they swam and playfully splashed, letting the cool waters renew their energy. Neither of them had ever felt so happy, so content, and so complete.

Wrapping his arms around her, they stood gazing at the three magnificent moons that were lowering on the horizon. Looking down over Ashlyn’s shoulder, he noticed that her necklace was missing.

“Ash, where’s your necklace?”

“I lost it when we went over the falls. I looked for it, but-”

“I’m sorry.” Steven gave her a comforting squeeze. “I know how important it was to you.”

After a few minutes of silence, Ashlyn spoke, “What do you think we’ll find when we reach the symbol on the map?”

“Our past, and maybe our future.”

***

“Commander, we have a massive force of ground units on a direct approach from the south, 6 klicks out,” advised Stratton.

“Spread out the full perimeter defense. Heaviest concentration to the south.”

Phillip scampered up. “Gordon?”

“I want you to go inside, Phillip.”

“Can I see what they look like?”

“No, it’s too dangerous. Please, Phillip, just go inside, now! I promised your father that I’d keep you safe.”

“Okay,” he said walking off.

Novacek felt sorry for the boy. Ever since the signal from his father’s beacon had stopped transmitting ten days ago, Phillip had sat watching the tunnel. Phillip knew that his father could not return from down river, but it clearly emphasized what precious little else he had to hold onto.

“Gordon?” said Phillip just before reentering the tunnel to the cavern.

“Yes, Phillip?” Novacek said, turning around to face him once more.

“How come you’re not stuttering anymore?”

No one was more surprised than Novacek. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember stuttering since his encounter with the spiders. “You’re right! I guess you might say—I’ve been freed.” Novacek couldn’t share the truth with him. To tell him that he had begun stuttering only after he’d been bound and forced to watch his wife being raped and tortured—how even after they’d snapped her neck, they still took turns atop her. The beating they had given him afterwards had seemed a blessing, for he had wanted nothing more than to die with her. His heart had been crushed due to his impotence to help her. It was from that moment on that his speech had been broken.

“Sir, the ground units are closing,” Stratton updated.

“Sorry, Phillip, you’ve got to go below. Now!”

Returning to his binoculars, Novacek studied the convoy’s firepower. The armada had thirty or more ground transports and at least a dozen heavy assault vehicles. Drawing up the rear were three vehicles with large weapons mounted on top.

“Give the order that under no circumstance are we to fire the first shot. If they fire, however, have our rifles return fire, concentrating on the heavy assault vehicles first. Warn everyone that if the heavy assault vehicles come to a stop, they have to get into their holes. The incoming firepower will be devastating. When the enemy eventually ceases fire, tell the teams to retaliate immediately.”

Novacek noticed Phillip sneaking a look from behind a boulder to his left. “Phillip Steven Sherrah, I told you to go below! That’s an order!”

“Okay!” Jumping down, he walked sour-faced into the cave.

He turned to the comm operator by his side. “Warn the teams to be ready for a southern, frontal assault with possible hand-to-hand combat. Also, send a message inside to clear the center of the cavern. Have everyone stay along the walls.”

The comm operator swallowed as he came to grips with what lay ahead.

“It’s all right, Ensign, I’m scared too.”

A boulder thirty meters below Novacek exploded. The sniper above returned fire on the fighter flying overhead. With the hit, the fighter went into a dive, heading toward the ground in flames.

By the time Novacek grabbed the field glasses, four of the assault vehicles below were in flames. The remaining vehicles scattered, seeking cover. For the snipers, the slow speed of the vehicles made it no harder than knocking bottles off a fence. The transport vehicles came to a stop; the alien troops unloaded, taking up defensive positions.

Novacek studied the scene. “They’re testing us. They’re sacrificing their own forces to test our defenses.”

Nine assault vehicles were eliminated before the laser-turrets on the heavy vehicles came to bear on the mountain. A wide laser beam erupted from each of the three long-range vehicles. It struck the top of the mountain with an electrifying energy, shattering massive boulders. Debris rained down from above, forcing the lower positioned personnel to take cover. Heavy boulders loosened and crashed down around them. When Novacek finally dared check on the enemy troop movement, he found that they were rapidly closing the distance under the cover fire of their guns.

When the barrage finally stopped, Novacek knew it meant the enemy forces had entered the forest. Most of Novacek’s personnel were not trained for hand-to-hand combat, but even so, they came out of hiding and held their own against the first advancing line.

Successive waves slowly forced the crew to retreat, forming a defensive line among the boulders. All too soon, it thinned as the enemy kept advancing. A sizzle from high above rang out. At least one rifle was still operational. Novacek waited only a moment to see if the other was going to join in. It didn’t.

Rising, Novacek ran, darted around rocks, stopped shortly, and then ran again. The enemy fire trailed him as he made a leaping dive across an exposed gap. The pulse of a handgun ripped across his right leg’s quad muscle. In pain, he leaned his back against a shielding boulder. Removing his belt, he tied off the bleeding leg.

The sound of crunching gravel told him that the enemy was right behind him. Picking up his sidearm, he rolled over into the open gap through which he had leapt, firing blind.

Standing directly before him was the leathered looking alien. A lucky shot caught the alien in the knee. It exploded, spurting his blood onto the ground. As he teetered in surprise, Novacek rolled again, onto his back.

The alien’s weapon discharged, hitting the just-vacated ground. Upon his back, Novacek’s gun blazed, firing shot after shot. Hitting the genitalia, at least where it would have been on a human, he cut a clean hole through the alien torso. The alien tottered and then fell in a clump of sinewy meat, flesh, and bone on top of Novacek.

The exposed and severed entrails of the corpse spilled out like unwinding coils, covering his chest. Wriggling out from beneath the pulp, the squalid stench of rancid seawater fogged Novacek’s senses, nauseating him. He searched for a spot of clean sleeve with which to wipe the alien tissue from his face. There was none. With his hands covered in blue-gray blood and bits of slimy gray-white tissue, he did his best to clear his vision.

Hidden behind the boulder, the choking stench of the alien settling deep into his sinus cavities, he heaved his guts out upon the corpse, feeling a giddy elation over his good aim.

His stomach emptied, he looked up to see the lone sharpshooter still hard at work.

Struggling to his feet, his injured leg reluctantly supporting him, he hobbled his way up the backside of the mountain.

Stepping around a boulder, he stumbled upon the body of a young woman. The blast had removed her face, killing her instantly. A fleeting thought told him to check her tags and see who it was—but time didn’t permit him that luxury. As he rose, continuing on, he felt strengthened by the valiant fight the crew was putting forth.

At the top, the startled sniper almost fired at Novacek as he came hobbling around the boulder behind him. The sniper’s uniform was in shreds from the fragments of exploding boulders. His nose and mouth trickled blood, as was his forehead. His hands displayed multiple, deep lacerations. Novacek was surprised that the young man was able to still hold the heavy weapon, let alone keep it steady.

“Commander! Morgan’s alive, but his foxhole is covered by a boulder. I couldn’t move it.”

Novacek saw that the large boulder would be too heavy for even the two of them to lift. Suddenly, out through a slit slid the rifle.

Taking it, Novacek fought through the pain, staggering over to a good vantage point from which he could shoot. The scope homed-in like a powerful telescope on the last assault vehicle, the crosshairs highlighting the small Cobra symbol on its side. In tandem, the rifles opened up, destroying it. The loss of the enemy’s heavy artillery bought them some time.

The firefight had started a dozen fires burning in the forest below. A light haze of smoke clouded the air.

Shifting to better positions, Novacek and the sniper concentrated on the aliens below. Their birds-eye view of the many small firefights below became the needed advantage to shift the balance of power in their favor. In fifteen minutes, they mopped up the last of the enemy forces that had not retreated.

Novacek knew that the battle was far from being over, for another large wave stood at the ready, waiting to attack. It was also painfully clear that Novacek’s crew did not have the physical numbers, strength, or energy to repel them again.

With more willpower than brute strength, several men worked to free the trapped sniper from beneath the boulder. As the boulder rolled aside, they all caught a whiff of the odor that permeated the hole. For the liberated crewmember, it was a moment of embarrassment, though no one so much as hinted at having noticed.

***

With the sun about to rise, Steven and Ashlyn quickly made their way back to camp in a race to beat the others before they woke. They stopped only briefly to retrieve Ashlyn’s clothes where she had left them. They almost made it.

Private Smith was just waking. “Is it too impolite for me to ask where—” His eyes suddenly rose. Steven and Ashlyn turned, following his gaze. Behind them, a fighter streaked away to the northwest.

“It’s heading toward Novacek’s base camp,” said Steven, his thoughts fearing for Phillip. He was now more anxious than ever to get to their destination. His son’s life might depend on it. “Rise and shine, grunts. Grab your gear; we’ll be eating on the move.” Ten minutes later, pack loads evenly distributed, Steven directed everyone’s attention to the two mountains on the horizon that marked their destination. The peaks were twenty, maybe even twenty-five kilometers away to the southeast and were the tallest in a long mountain chain that stretched as far as they could see. They topped off the canteens. “Let’s go. It’s time to put some calluses on those feet!”

Leaving the security of fresh water behind, they headed inland.

With each step, a thin layer of hard sand crunched underfoot, easing the stress on their legs and enabling them to keep a quick pace. Logic told Steven that eons ago the entire region had been an inland lake or sea. He could smell the salt in the air, taste it upon his lips.

It didn’t take long to realize that they should have waited until the next nightfall to begin the trek. The heat soon became extreme and they were forced to take shelter, if for no other reason than to conserve water. Lying low, behind the cornice of a large dune, they hid in its sliver of a shadow.

The day dragged on. With their bodies perspiring frighteningly fast, the need to find water was going to be their primary concern.

As the suns set, Steven made note of the first appearing stars in relation to the distant mountains. The tri-moons provided more than enough light for traveling, and the cool air was refreshing.

None of them had forgotten about the creatures that lived beneath the sand either.

Seven hours later, just as the twin suns rose, they reached the foot of the mountains. A sparse tree line stretched half way up the mountains’ 7,400-meter peaks.

Stopping beneath the covering shade of trees, they gave their backs a break from the heavy packs.

“You know, if it wasn’t for the fact that the leaves are purple and the bark dark red, I’d think I was back in Oregon, before the attack. It’s almost nostalgic,” said Maria.

“Look at the size of this flower,” said Richardson, smelling it. His body stiffened and he fell to the ground convulsing. Smith reached him first, tipped his head back, and checked his airways. “His throat’s constricted.”

At his side, Steven flung open the med kit. Richardson’s skin was already mottled purple. His eyes rolled back. Searching through the kit, Steven found it contained nothing for a toxic reaction. It only offered a simple inhaler for asthmatics. Sliding the mask over his nose and mouth, they squeezed the mixture into him, hoping it might open his airway. Unfortunately, the medic assigned to the team had been one of those killed at the falls.

“His heart’s stopped!” said Ashlyn as she started CPR. Removing the inhaler, Smith tried to force air into him. It was several minutes before they reluctantly stopped.

Richardson was given a traditional burial. A small, flat rock served as a marker, his dog tags lying on top of it. Smith had been his best friend and told the group that Richardson was of the Catholic faith. After a formal salute and a moment of reflective silence, the team donned their packs and departed.

Having lost one of their own, the team was solemn.

It was three days later, wiggling through the chain of interconnected valleys, the burial site far behind them, that they found a small spring. Most of their canteens were empty, their rations low. Finding the spring was a great relief and gave them some time to make a small fire. Seated around it, the team finally began asking questions. “What’s so special about this symbol we’re going to?” asked Maria.

“It’s just a theory. It may not be special at all. It’s still too early to know for sure.”

That night, lying on his blanket like he’d so often done as a kid, Steven watched the stars. He missed the familiar constellations, and it left him feeling very out of touch with his former life. It now seemed so very long ago.

“Steven, what are you thinking about?”

“I don’t know—home—Earth.”

After a brief moment of silence. “Steven—I know you’ll never stop loving her. If we ever find a way home, it would only be right for all of you to be a family again. Somehow, we’ll find a solution.”

Steven turned his head, looking at her—feeling blessed to have her.