James led them through the slight depression then up into another rising hill. The vegetation became sparser and allowed Jacob to open his stride. The hilltop cleared and opened into a mound of yellow grass.
Near the summit, James dropped to a crouch and slowly backed himself up before he lowered his body to the ground. He rolled to his back and waved Jacob forward. Jacob did as instructed, dropping to his belly and leopard crawling ahead while holding up the muzzle of his rifle as he crept to the front. He moved up to just beside James’ thighs, Duke leaning down to greet him with a lick to his face. The dog scampered slowly in a circle and dropped into the grass with a sigh.
Jacob waited for Rogers to join them before he rotated to his hip and looked up at James. The point man rolled onto his back, gazing up at the clear blue sky partially obscured by the blooms of black acrid smoke. Now closer, Jacob could hear the occasional pops and snaps of burning wood and parts of the alien vehicles.
“You get eyes on them?” Rogers asked.
James looked into their faces and spoke in a hushed tone. “On the other side… down the center of a wide road.”
“Numbers?” Rogers whispered.
James shook his head side to side. “Hard to tell; Apaches fucked ’em up. I didn’t see any moving, but I didn’t hang out long either.” He struggled with his equipment, pulling a canteen from his hip. James took a long drink before pouring more into his palm and offering it to Duke. “We shouldn’t be here… this is the kind of shit that gets people killed,” he said. “They’ll be moving in to collect on their dead, and to collect our heads.”
Rogers opened his mouth to speak but held his tongue when he heard Clem and Masterson moving up behind them. The scarred man moved in close and glared at all of them. “Why are we stopped?” he asked impatiently.
“They’re just over the top,” James answered. “It’s not secure.”
Masterson grinned and rolled to his back before sitting up. He held his arms straight out and waved them up and down, signaling for his men to get on line. He dropped his gear and crawled ahead, pushing Jacob aside as he forced his way next to James. “Okay, we’ll cover you from up here while you all go down and check it out.”
“Fuck that! I ain’t doing nothing of the sort. You want to go down and say hello then have at it,” James retorted.
Masterson’s jaw clenched. He reached out a hand and grabbed the shoulder of James’ jacket. Clem chuckled from behind them. “If your boy is scared, I can go down myself,” the old man said.
Before Masterson could respond, there was a loud clanking of metal. James put up a hand, silencing both of them as he rolled back to his belly and crawled to the top of the hill. Not waiting for instruction, Jacob did the same, edging forward through the high grass. The snow was lighter here; in direct sunlight, most of it had already melted off.
Looking ahead, Jacob could see that the grass continued over the top of the hill then dropped swiftly down to meet the paved road on the far side. Stretching down the middle of the roadway was a column of destroyed and burning alien vehicles, black smoke boiling from the wreckage. He was surprised to see Rogers moving ahead of them; ducking down, he bear-crawled on all fours and waded into the thick grass, only his head and shoulders showing.
The rest of the men fanned out and followed his lead while Jacob stood in a crouched stance. He felt Duke brush against his side; the dog was still relaxed, its tail wagging feverishly. Jacob tried to let the dog’s temperament comfort him, Duke always being a fair gauge for danger.
Jacob paused in his movements and held his rifle’s optic to his eye, panning down the long roadway. He counted at least six of the destroyed hovercrafts, all burning, some brighter than others, the metal putting off strobe-like flashes of light similar to burning magnesium. Where the vehicle occupants tried to escape the inferno, there were charred bodies in the road. Jacob looked back and saw the patrol’s riflemen now lining the top of the hill; some knelt down, others stood. If they were shocked, their faces hid it well. The men were stoic, weapons out providing overwatch.
James stepped closer. He raised his rifle up and held it steady with his right hand while he pointed to a still body with his left. “This one’s still got all its parts. This what you’re looking for?”
Clem hissed and halted the others as he alone approached the blue-clad figure. The old man stepped beside it and nudged the body with his boot, getting no response. He leaned down and pulled the form over, its lifeless, helmeted head flopping to the side. It was one of the Yellow Sleeves, smaller than the Reds.
"Thing fuckin’ stinks, don’t it?”
Clem pushed at the thing’s chest with the stock of his rifle, the figure contorting with the pressure.
“Freeze!” James hissed, holding up a flat hand.
Clem stopped cold, his body instinctively crouching at the warning. “What is it?”
Jacob turned on his heels to look back at his friend. He saw Duke with his back arched, lips curled back revealing white fangs, a low growl slowly rising in volume. James was by the dog’s side, his rifle at the low ready, trying to follow the dog’s intense gaze.
“We’re not alone down here,” James whispered. “We need to move.”
A dry heat suddenly filled the air. Blue bolts of energy rushed at them from all directions. Jacob dove for the soft earth at the edge of the burning vehicles, hearing the sounds of the patrol returning fire from the hillside. Machine guns and deafening
