Buck nodded his head slowly and smiled, showing his stained teeth. “She’ll be ready.” Buck paused and looked left and right before stepping closer and lowering his voice. “I can only take ten. You’ll have some decisions to make.”
Masterson grimaced then returned the pilot’s smile. “Multiple trips then; I’m sure you’re up for it.”
Buck shrugged. “Assuming we have fuel to top off the tanks for a second trip, and what about security?”
Masterson looked back and caught Jacob listening in on the conversation; he brought up a gloved hand and slapped Buck’s cloaked shoulder. “Let the gunfighters worry about that; just be ready to go.”
Masterson stepped into the clearing near the helicopter and waved his arms, bringing the twenty-man patrol into a tight cluster. The plan for them was to move back down the trail to the cabin and barn, then meet the dirt access road. If all remained clear, they would move over it and into nearby hills. Once on high ground, they could set up a hide position so that they could observe the main road and intersections.
Most of the soldiers in Masterson’s party were veterans and knew the part they would play. Experienced, they had performed these drills countless times on foreign battle fields. But today, everyone was wary. Even though the noise of the distant battles had dropped off with the rising of the sun, the men still didn’t know what to expect. This wasn’t Afghanistan or Iraq where everyone played a role; nobody knew what to expect from this new brand of invaders, or even what purpose the Deltas would have in everything.
“Don’t get too heavy on your triggers; we have half of a missing company out there and who knows what else. Stay quiet and keep this place a secret as long as we can.” With that, Masterson ended his conversation and pointed to Rogers.
Rogers took a deep breath and dipped his chin. “A’right, let’s get this done. James, you got point. Jacob, take slack with me.”
Jacob found his spot in the file and patroled cautiously with his rifle in the crook of his elbow, his gloved right hand resting on the stock. They packed light for the patrol; no heavy rucksacks or body armor to weigh them down. Most of them didn’t have armor anyway, and who knew if it was effective against the invaders’ weapons? Nobody had been able to examine a dead alien—or even one of their victims for that matter.
James waved a hand to the ground, slowing them as they approached the main cabin. The place appeared empty; a low fog hung close to the structures and blanketed the lonely buildings. In the yard of the cabin, Jacob spotted the trucks they used to get there. Along with their trucks were several open-backed Humvees and a massive cargo truck, and a white Toyota pickup was next to the barn. James let Duke move on his own, the dog zigzagging between the vehicles and stopping to sniff the air.
The point man knelt near a tree, waiting for the dog to return before he waved the others forward. Jacob moved close and squatted, finding a position where he could watch the road. He heard Masterson order five of the men to stay and secure the cabin site before ordering Rogers to push ahead. As Jacob got back to his feet, he could feel the mood change. The hair on his neck buzzed with electricity; moving onto the road felt dangerous and foreign to him.
Looking back at Rogers’ stone face and clenched jaw, he knew his leader was feeling it too. They were in a dangerous place now. James moved them across the road and onto high ground on the far side. It was a low ridge that gave them viewpoints over the gravel access road. They turned and moved south, cutting through a saddle and onto a high, tree-covered slope. Working their way to the top, they could begin to see the shapes of roofs and far off buildings from the high vantage point.
Pillars of black smoke snaked up from a bunching of homes. Farther away, where the gravel road met the paved highway, was a cluster of destroyed and smoldering vehicles—civilian cars and military trucks twisted and smashed. The distance spared him some of the carnage, but Jacob knew what he would find if he wandered closer.
James dropped into the cover of a large tree and waited for his teammates to join him. He huddled the dog close to his side, pointed down at the destroyed vehicles, and said, “What’s left of last night’s battle.”
Jacob used the scope on the M14 to examine the devastation. Nothing moved; no signs of life. Panning from left to right, he could see more signs of black smoke on the horizon. The rest of Masterson’s men moved up behind him and formed a wide, half-circular perimeter on the face of the hill. Riflemen moved in with nervous anticipation, finding bits of cover and concealment as they searched the far off sights.
Clem, the rough and tattered civilian, weaved in close to James with Masterson right behind him. He retrieved a pair of olive-green binoculars from his hip pocket and scanned the distant horizon. He pointed his hand and waved it past the distant streams of black smoke. “They’re hitting every bit of civilization between here and Lake Huron.”
Rogers ignored the older man. “We should go down and have a look, check for survivors.”
Clem pivoted and pointed to the east. The road twisted and disappeared into a series of deep cuts and rolling hills scattered with heavy trees. “No, they’re close; we need to stay out of sight.”
Rogers shook his head. “How the hell do you know that?”
“Cause it’s war. The sides change but tactics are always relative.” Clem paused to look down at the twisted, smoldering vehicles. “Looks like local survivors trying to make a caravan west, away from the landings. Got ambushed just past the intersection and tried to push
