“So that’s how they do it,” James whispered. “Hovercraft.”
The vehicles appeared to float over the surface, the ground at the edges of the vehicles blowing outward with the beat of the rumbling subwoofer. Using a type of air displacement rather than conventional fans, they moved closer to the team on a course that would intersect with the small patrol.
From the top of the lead vehicle Jacob could clearly make out the body of an elongated man. The torso of the creature was long and narrow and wrapped in fabric that resembled blued steel. Its shoulders were padded in red, ridged material, and the head covered in a helmet matching the shoulder pads. The creature was facing forward, its head swiveling from side to side.
Jacob, now fighting back fear, consciously struggled to control his shaking hands. He turned to look at James for an answer, surprised to see his friend hunched over the now unzipped canvas bag. Inside was a large scoped rifle. James went to work, quickly deploying the bipod and readying the scope while Rogers pushed rounds into a box magazine.
“What are you doing?” Jacob whispered, his voice breaking.
“Get the rocket off your back. The instructions are on the side; get familiar with them,” Rogers answered in a tone letting Jacob know that now wasn’t a time to hesitate.
James finished with the rifle and plucked the magazine from Rogers. Locking it in place, he put the stock in the ground, balancing the rifle while he dropped his pack and settled the bi-pod into it. Dropping low in a prone position, he tried to focus through the blowing grass.
“This won’t be an easy shot, boss,” he whispered, trying to hold the weight of the rifle as he racked a round into the chamber. Duke nudged close to him and rested by James’ side.
Rogers prepared his own AT4 for firing. “The one in the hatch is yours, James. Jacob, you have the middle vehicle. I’ll take the trail vehicle and block them in,” he said. “Shoot and scoot, easy money, that’s all I’m asking. Anything we don’t kill, James, you finish.”
Rogers shifted away farther to the right then looked back at Jacob, who was looking down at the tube in his hands. “You having a problem?”
“What if the rockets don’t work against them?”
“Only one way to find that out,” Rogers said with a sly grin. “Just aim for the front of the vehicle; let the warhead do the worrying.”
Jacob rested on his knees, his mind lulling behind in the action. He held the green tube in his hands, looking at the instructions but not comprehending any of it, the impending fight clouding and shocking his thoughts at the same time. Rogers crawled back beside him, moving behind James, who was already locked onto the creature exposed in the lead vehicle. Rogers handed Jacob the rocket he’d already prepped. Rogers put the rocket to Jacob’s shoulder and pointed at the sight. “Too easy—look through the peep sight and squeeze this.”
Jacob looked the weapon over and nodded, taking the full weight of the rocket in his hands while Rogers readied the next.
“I’m ready when you are,” James whispered in their direction.
Rogers reached his left hand out and put up a thumb up to Jacob. “You start us off, Jake. Just give it a solid squeeze and hold steady; we’re only a couple hundred yards out and they’re at a crawl. Too easy.”
Jacob held the tube on his right shoulder, steadying the AT4 with his left hand while his right thumb rested lightly on the trigger. He looked through the small peephole sight. The shoebox seemed to glow a phosphorous green, the shades of light shifting in browns and yellows as it moved over the uneven ground and vegetation. Focusing through the peep sight, he could now make out more detail within the active camouflage—the edges and contoured lines of the vehicle, hatches, and exhaust ports. The grass moved with the beat of whatever kept the vehicles in the air.
“Any time now,” Rogers whispered.
Jacob swallowed hard and put the sight just to the front edge of the vehicle; he squeezed the safety and pushed the trigger. The blast of the rocket shattered his ears. He looked away just as he saw the shoebox erupt into flames. Rogers fired next to him, and James released a salvo from the heavy rifle in steady beats.
The large rifle roared, pushing grass away in the wake of every round. Jacob saw Rogers flip his expended rocket tube forward into the grass and raise up his rifle. Jacob shook off the shock and did the same. Looking through the sights of the M14, he could see the vehicles were different now. Burning hulks of dark brown, the luminescence died with whatever made it. Both vehicles hit by rockets were engulfed in flames. The alien convoy never had a chance.
The air was still, the rumbling vibrations now gone. The second vehicle was sitting idle, the mirrored image of the terrain flickering on its sides as James pumped armor-piercing rounds into it. The creature once exposed in the hatch was nearly gone, only a portion of its decapitated body still partially visible. Panning to the left he saw the Deltas still standing in their disciplined formation seemingly unaffected by the violence.
James fired the last round and quickly packaged the M82, shouting “up” as he finished to let Rogers know he was ready to move.
Rogers turned and pulled Jacob to his feet saying, “Let’s move. We need to get clear of here.”
