With Duke close by his side, James hoisted the pack to his shoulders. “I’d like to take a closer look at those vehicles.”
Rogers shook his head and stepped off. “No time, who knows if they have communications or air cover? I don’t want to hang around and find out.”
Jacob drew his rifle close to his chest and dropped his head, picking up the pace to keep up with the other two. Rogers moved them back to the opposing wall of the valley, scrambling up a steep incline until they were hidden in a rocky embankment.
He fell into the cover of a downed tree and thick mud where rains had long ago caused a slide. The debris now formed a high earthen wall of tree trunks and stone. Jacob ducked behind them, crawling forward and turning so that his back was pressed against a tall rock. He looked up and saw James reloading the box magazine with .50 rounds, while Rogers was back on his binoculars, looking out between two large boulders across the valley.
“What now?” Jacob gasped between labored breaths.
Rogers removed the binoculars from his eyes and sipped at a bottle of water. “The Deltas are still down there. Still in that stupid line.”
Duke began to growl, and the hair on the dog’s neck stiffened.
Jacob crawled next to Rogers amid the tall rocks and looked out. As he’d said, the Deltas were standing as still as statues, still in their columns facing the burning vehicles. “Wait… there! What’s that?” Jacob whispered, pointing to movement in the tall grass beyond the burning vehicles.
Rogers adjusted his binoculars and swiveled in the direction Jacob indicated. “Aww, hell, the cavalry is here.”
Jacob watched as the things smoothly glided through the tall grass, approaching from the high ground on the opposite end of the valley. Lean and elongated, their bodies were covered in blue steeled fabric with gold piping on the arms; heads that seemed disproportionately large for their bodies were covered by helmets. Each one carried a type of compact battle rifle that was held with two hands. They moved gracefully, taking long striding steps. Two in the back and one farther to the front, they approached the line of Deltas and looked up and down the column before moving close to inspect the burning convoy.
“I count three. We can take—” Before Rogers could finish, more came, moving swiftly through the tall grass. At a full run, their speed could challenge an African Gazelle.
“Make that ten,” Jacob whispered.
Rogers used a flat hand to silence the exchange and leaned in. Jacob saw the things crowd around the vehicles. Even though alien, it was easy to read their body language. Their heads darted and they faced out in all directions. They were afraid. The creatures moved back to the column of Deltas, shoving and swatting at them violently with their rifles, forcing the column back on the move. Soon the column was marching again, the aliens’ attention focused on the Deltas as they passed through the center of the valley.
“Look at the bastards. They should be patrolling the tree lines; instead, their eyes are glued on the black eyes. We should hit them again out of principle,” James whispered. Jacob turned and saw him perched just over his shoulder.
“Why aren’t they coming after us?” Jacob asked.
Rogers dropped his binoculars, the group close enough now to see them clearly. “I don’t think they’re soldiers. Yeah, they’re armed, but look how they move; that’s no formation, just a gaggle. These things aren’t used to resistance.”
“Well, something resisted. You heard that fight when we first got here,” Jacob rebutted.
Rogers nodded. “You’re right. Still, I’m surprised at how soft their vehicles were; they drove straight ahead, turrets unmanned.”
“Maybe this is a logistics convoy,” James said. “But wait, then that would mean… aww, shit.”
Jacob looked back, alarmed. “It would mean what?”
“That we’re behind enemy lines,” Rogers said.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Jacob sat motionless, watching another convoy roll across the valley floor. The light faded while the team lay low, forced to hold position in the rocks. The enemy activity increased all around them. Streams of alien vehicles filed into the valley. Unlike before, these new hovercraft had red-painted, armored turrets on the tops. Several vehicles were supported by ground troops. The alien infantry was different in appearance from the supporting troops Jacob saw earlier. The new creatures wore red, armored plates on their chest and back in addition to the blue, steel fabric. Tall and broad-chested, they were carrying large shoulder-fired weapons and shielded battle helmets. Walking stooped over forward, they moved tactically with their heads swiveling.
Jacob used a gloved hand to swat a bug from his chin, keeping his eyes glued to the enemy columns. “Where are they all going?” he whispered.
“Away from here,” James answered. “From their posture, I’d say they’re looking for a fight.”
Rogers pushed away from the rocks and spun around. “My guess is south, toward our remaining strong points. Those columns are coming from the base. Landing parties… pushing troops out toward our lines… that’s what I would do.”
“We should get back to the cabin,” Jacob whispered, watching Rogers nod in response.
James eased in between them and extended a hand in the air. “No, not yet.”
“Why the hell not?” Jacob spat.
“Because look at them, they’re loaded for bear. If they’re headed toward the guys holding the lines, or even worse, the refugee camps… We have others to think about now; the civilians in the camps, the men ahead in the trenches—”
Rogers leaned forward and looked at both of the soldiers across from him. “We can’t stop this, James.”
“No, but we can try to slow them down, allow our boys to organize. We have an opportunity here. If we hit them hard, they’ll be forced to spend resources on us.”
Jacob shook his head in frustration. “We don’t know if there is anybody left to organize, and if we get ourselves killed? How does
