Out of the Black (Odyssey One, Book 4) (57 page)

Everyone around looked at each other, nerves now being replaced by real apprehension. They had to have misunderstood that, right?

“Bah.” Eric closed the connection while the man on the other side was dipping into his repertoire of Spanish curse words. He leaned forward, tapping the pilot on the shoulder. “Take us over that way. I need face time with that jackass.”

“Roger that, sir. Should I set down in the park?”

“Hell no,” Eric growled, “just get me over their base of operations. I’ll handle the rest.”

“You want it, Cap, you got it.”

The pilot banked the Cherokee from a standstill to sideways flight at over two hundred miles per hour in just a few seconds, slamming everyone around a bit even with the CM operating at full intensity. He twisted the craft around as they crossed over Reunion Park, bringing them into a tight orbit around the area.

“Whatever you’re going to do, now’s the time, Cap!” the pilot called back as Eric pulled himself into the EXO-13.

“Roger that,” Eric said, pulling the harness frame shut over him. “Stay on orbit over the city. I’ll call for pickup soon.”

“You’ve got it.”

“Captain . . .” One of his squad tapped on the cockpit of the EXO mech. “You don’t want us down there?”

“Not for this,” Eric said as he activated the mech, the pneumatic systems hissing as they pressurized. “I can handle one jackass, even if he is a ranger.”

The men laughed, patting the machine as Eric hoisted himself on the winch centered in the frame of the Cherokee and opened the hatch below. The city appeared below them as the men cleared the road and nodded. Eric saluted with the machine’s arms, then hit the release switch and dropped away.

“We ain’t seen any of those flying overhead before,” Swenson snorted, eyeing up the military craft as it circled.

“No wonder. That’s old school, sir. Didn’t know we had any in that good of a shape,” a Guardsman offered, sounding genuinely impressed. “I signed up ’cause I wanted to fly a Cherokee into the action, just like the in movies. They were mostly phased out for the new Deltas by the time I got in though.”

Swenson nodded. “I flew in a few in the early days of the war, before they fancied them up with all that antigravity bullshit.”

“Counter-mass, sir.”

“Like hell. It’s goddamn antigravity, son,” Swenson said. “Call a mule a mule.”

“Yes sir.”

“They’re about to do a drop,” another man said, nodding to the belly of the craft. “We due any supplies?”

“Not that we were told. The whole damn radio band is quiet since last night,” a young woman said as she walked over with a computer in hand.

“Well, someone sure as hell is delivering something.” Swenson waved a hand as he walked over to the space where a window was supposed to be.

What happened next made him take a step back involuntarily as a hulking machine dropped out of the belly of the Cherokee and slammed into the soft ground of Reunion Park with enough force to dig a crater and throw dirt all around.

“Whoa!”

“Holy shit . . .”

Swenson scowled, taking a step forward and looking closer, spotting the machine as it rose to its feet and began to stalk out of the park in the direction of his headquarters.

“Get everyone up! We’ve got something incoming. I don’t know what it is, but let’s be ready for it,” he ordered, sending two of the Guardsmen scrambling to raise the alarm. When they were gone he glanced back to where the woman, Wendy, was staring. “You ever see anything like this?”

“Only in the comic books, Ranger Swenson.”

I swear, this thing is going to make me motion sick,
Eric snarled mentally as he stalked the machine forward.

The problem with bipedal systems was that there was always a bit of sway in the step, no matter how motion-controlled the cockpit was. He had to admit that this one was one of the best he’d seen. Most were considerably worse, but it was still noticeable. That said, and despite his inner monologue, Eric was in no danger of losing his lunch. After decades flying some of the most high-performance jets in the world, his stomach was cast in iron.

He stomped out of the park, coming to a rest in front of the building they’d identified as the headquarters for the
local Guard resistance. That ID was confirmed by the swarm of men in urban camo that came rushing out to cover him with their guns. Eric ignored them in favor of the man who calmly walked out, wearing a sidearm and cowboy hat as his most distinguishing features.

Eric popped the cab of the EXO mech and pulled himself out, dropping the ten feet to the ground with an easy motion. He walked through the ranks of men who weren’t
quite
aiming their weapons at him and came to a stop in front of the man in the hat.

“Ranger Swenson, I presume.”

Swenson snorted.

If this cock-a-wop thought for a second he was impressed by that bit of showmanship, then he had a hard lesson coming his way.

“You must be that braying fool, Weston,” he said, looking the man right in the silver faceplate of his armor. “Nice toys you have. Too bad you didn’t share them with us earlier.”

The suit hissed as it equalized pressure and the man, Weston, reached up and pulled his helmet off.

“I was busy clearing New York, then recapturing Detroit and Hamilton,” Eric said simply. “And as for the toys, there aren’t enough to go around.”

“So you left us to rot. That’s mighty nice of you,” Swenson snarled. “Now what? You think we’re going to let you
nuke
our city?”

The men around them drew back, most paling as they heard that. Eric just smiled coldly.

“Ranger, how do you propose to stop it?”

Swenson put a hand on his pistol menacingly. “Maybe we don’t let you leave.”

Eric just laughed at him. “I don’t hold the football, Ranger.”

“Right, like they’re going to nuke their little messenger boy.”

“Ranger, you don’t have a clue what’s going on here.” Eric stopped smiling. He was out of patience and talking through clenched teeth. “These things aren’t just another enemy to kill. They’re here to eat and breed, and when they’re done there won’t be anything left flying in our orbit around the Sun but a crumbling pile of crawling alien
spiders
.”

That stopped the ranger for a moment, and Eric pressed on.

“This is genocide, Ranger. Either they
all
die, or we do.”