They had made one mistake: they had awoken the most horrible of beasts. They had awoken the vengeance of mankind. The day of reckoning had come. Man would no longer run and hide. Man was coming after the nightmares. Hunting them.
The ground trembled as the human stampede practically fell down the hill and collided with the alien army amidst the trees and rocky ground of the mountainside.
The forward tier of the Viking force stopped, stunned into inaction by the brazenness of the assault. The enemy raised rifles but had little time to fire for Trevor’s legion smashed into them not as a cohesive military formation but as a murderous, savage mob.
A few quick pops of rifle fire echoed through the dense forest; an explosion sent a trio of poncho-clad soldiers flying. However, the weapons of modern battle were quickly discarded in favor of more barbaric means: knives and rifle butts and swords and fists and teeth and fingernails and anything that could wound and kill.
This was no genius tactical maneuver. It was a frenzied swarm. Barbaric.
Unexpected.
Trevor spent his last five pistol shots as he raced forward, and then swung his sword. It cut through ponchos easily.
Brewer strangled a Viking fighter with his bare hands. Shep fired shotgun blasts until out of shot, and then swung the gun like a club.
'At the wrath of the LORD of hosts the land quakes, and the people are like FUEL FOR FIRE; No man spares his brother, each DEVOURS the flesh of his neighbor,' boomed Revered Johnny as he swung his baseball bat with both hands.
Woody 'Bear' Ross snapped the neck of one of the enemy. Cassy Simms held two pistols and fired and fired and fired while laughing hysterically.
The K9s bit and clawed, shredding disorientated Viking warriors into tatters.
Dustin McBride wrestled the gun off a foe then used it to pummel the creature to death.
'THAT’S ALL FOLKS!' Casey roared as he drove a bayonet into one of the poncho-wearing villains.
Stonewall joined the fray, skewering an enemy through the chest.
The Vikings returned fire in a chaotic fashion. Their columns had been prepared to thrust at a static defensive line, not repel a horde. They marched toward the mountaintop expecting to find a defeated, demoralized enemy' not maddened demons at close quarters.
For her part, Nina killed with precision.
While still jogging down the slope, she raised her M4 and squeezed the trigger once. A single bullet killed a single enemy.
She darted to her left as a pellet buzzed past her head, then back to her right to dodge another. Her weapon rose. Her eye found the mark. The trigger pulled. A bullet pierced a goggle on her opponent.
She raced forward again. Two Vikings-staggering backward in the face of the onslaught-noticed her approach. Their magnetic rifles discharged. She spun and jumped and rolled behind an Oak. The unfriendly rounds tore away tree bark.
Nina popped out on one knee, fired her third shot and with it killed a third alien; the gray and black colored poncho rolled lifelessly away.
The other enemy fired with shaky hands. His shots missed high. She launched her fourth of five bullets. It missed. The alien stepped behind the tree in search of cover.
Nina immediately took to her feet and sprinted around the other side of that tree. The sound of raging battle filling the forest hid the crunches of her feet on dried twigs and leaves. She surprised the alien from behind, placing the last of her five bullets into his skull at point blank range. The top of the poncho exploded into mess.
She pulled the extraterrestrial’s rifle from his dead hands and gazed at its slender, plain barrel and the oddly shaped firing mechanism. She did not understand the weapon's rate of fire, how to clean it, or even how to reload it. Nonetheless, she understood triggers well enough. She understood barrels.
The natural-born soldier raised the strange rifle and fired at the nearest enemy fighter. She felt no recoil, only a small vibration. No smoke discharged. No casing ejected. Yet the result was familiar: one of her enemies crumpled to the ground.
Nina charged again, further down the slope, hunting for her next victim. Her eyes sorted through the churning chaos of intertwined combatants and gave it order. She lived for the fight. Now she fought not because it was all she knew, but because she had so much to fight for. She fought for the right to live. She fought for the love she felt for Trevor. She fought for her people, not as an outcast warrior but as one with them.
Nina waded into the battle knowing that when the alien gun ran dry, she could turn to her knife and should that break she would use her bare hands.
Trevor led the mob of enraged humanity and chased the Vikings not only down the slope, not only over the stream and fields of the valley below, but also back up the second mountain.
The aliens ran in terror from the devils that pursued. They screamed in horror as they realized how horrid the monsters they had unleashed. They cried with fatal regret that they had dared come to this planet of death.
The Vikings ran faster and more fearful than any man had run from any of the nightmares that had descended upon that world.
They reached the top of the hill.
Fromm stepped from behind a tree and took aim at Trevor.
Trevor threw his sword. It pierced the Force Commander’s neck.
The remaining Viking warriors-some pleading in an alien language for their lives-were slaughtered without mercy. Their blood filled puddles across the mountain.
Trevor grabbed the dying body of Fromm and carried it on top of a red rock cropping at the crown of the mountain. His rage burned. His followers gathered.
Trevor found the strength of all mankind. He lifted the commander skyward above his head as the alien gurgled blood and clutched at air.
'IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN DO? IS THIS ALL THERE IS?'
He tossed the dead body to the ground. It thudded and rolled off.
Trevor raised his arms toward the summer sky. He shook his fists at the mysterious forces of the universe that had orchestrated Armageddon. He hollered a barbaric roar. A roar that echoed from the mountain and over the treetops and across the land.
The aliens and creatures from other worlds that heard that roar trembled.
34. Secrets
Trevor stood on the balcony and watched as the convoy of Humvees, SUVs and one Bradley left the estate. He worked his radio to talk to the man in charge of the expedition.
'How long will it take to get there?'
Stonewall answered, 'We will be exercising abundant caution, but I anticipate our arrival sometime later this afternoon.'
How much had changed since Jon’s expedition to Allentown last autumn! This time, after so many battles, Stonewall felt confident enough to travel the turnpike via motor vehicles, as opposed to slinking across the countryside on horseback.
The convoy included Reverend Johnny and it aimed to reach The Order’s abandoned facility, secure it, and confirm the existence of the correct enzyme. If all went well, Trevor and Nina would fly to Allentown in the morning and it would be done. The memories would be purged. The woman he loved would cease to exist.
And Trevor Stone would go on leading his crusade.
He walked from the balcony into the empty Command Center where maps and binders called for his attention.
Ten days had past since the Battle of Five Armies.
