Chapter Seventy-Four
Rain pounded and soaked through his uniform top. They patroled in a column with James leading the way, winding a path up the steep hillside toward the radio tower just visible in the distance. Lightning flashed, exposing bits of the darkened trail in strobes of uneven light. He couldn’t get his mind off the walled community and the people inside. His heart told him Laura was there, and he wanted nothing more than to return. Looking ahead, he saw Rogers and James. He knew they wouldn’t steer him wrong; he had to trust them as he always had.
James paused at the end of the thick woods. Kneeling, he let his eyes pan over the clearing ahead and pointed to a lone grassy hilltop barely visible in the low light. The steel bunker door cut into the hillside was barely visible between the flashes of light. “You think the others made it up here?” Jacob whispered.
Rogers shrugged. “Someone did, and they made a half-assed attempt at camouflaging the door with brush. I wonder who? Only one way to—”
“Wait,” James whispered, extending an arm to ease them back into cover. He waved and pointed down the trail before ducking back into the brush.
Jacob followed the scout’s gloved hand and saw them: three tall Red Sleeves leading a fourth and shorter Gold along the muddy trail that led to the radio tower. The aliens moved through a clearing of high grass, following the trail toward them at an angle. Jacob knew from the previous trip that the trail would disappear in a bend before traveling past where he now stood. The two Reds stalked out front, leading the way, with the Gold in the middle, and the other Red following farther back.
Jacob crouched in the heavy brush and raised his rifle, taking aim. Rogers reached over and squeezed the hand guard of his M4, shaking his head side to side. “No guns. We fire up here and they’ll be all over us.” Rogers released his grip on the rifle and pulled a fighting knife from a scabbard on his chest. James smiled and quietly slipped across the trail before ducking into cover.
Jacob searched his belt, looking for his own knife. Rogers looked back at him and whispered, “Let them pass. We’ll take the lead two, and you take down the one in the rear. We need this to be quiet.”
Jacob nodded. “And the Gold?”
“We’ll handle that one last. It doesn’t appear armed, maybe it’s wounded,” he said.
Jacob tipped his head in Rogers’ direction and watched him slip away. He then did the same. Squatting and slipping back into the wet foliage, he allowed himself to blend with his surroundings completely before the alien patrol emerged from the cover of the bend. Jacob’s heart rate quickened as the first of the Reds moved past his hiding spot.
He could hear the creak of the alien’s uniform, flexing and squeaking in the rain like polished leather. The thought distracted him. It wouldn’t be leather unless the aliens had cows, or is any hide leather? The aliens’ helmets emitted a soft glow of light where they fit over the creatures’ heads. Jacob wondered if they had special optics like night vision and thermals. They must, he told himself. They’re advanced. But if they do, then why haven’t they spotted us? Or maybe they have and it’s all a trap, maybe they planned all of this. Another moved past, and finally the smaller Gold figure slowly neared Jacob’s position.
Jacob sat perfectly still, allowing the cool rain to flow over his body and the damp leaves to shield his form against the wood line. No, maybe it’s the rain. That’s why they can’t see us; it must mess up their optics. Before he could finish his thought, a low hum emitted from the lead creature. The others halted and raised their rifles. Jacob watched the Gold step ahead, moving closer to those in the lead while the one in the rear turned to face the trail behind it. Just as a trained soldier would, he thought.
He froze, watching the tail Red’s head pan and scan the tree line, sure that it would turn and spot him less than five yards away. They couldn’t have seen me. If they did they would have already fired. Maybe it’s a proximity sensor then, just something that detects, but doesn’t pinpoint… I guess that’s possible. No more impossible than aliens landing in giant pumpkins.
Jacob heard a growl followed by several barks. He watched as the Gold took a startled step back. The scout dog was on the trail now, in a fighter’s stance. Duke showed his teeth and growled, the hair standing stiff on the dog’s back. A Red squared off curiously, the humming became louder, and he raised his rifle. From nowhere, streaks and blurs of multi-cam crossed the trail followed by a flash of steel and a spray of blood.
Jacob remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He forced himself forward, springing from bent knees to explode onto the trail and colliding with the far larger creature in a footballer’s tackle. The creature ducked and tried to roll Jacob off. A fatal mistake. It was at the wrong angle, and Jacob was able to curl his arm around the thing’s neck and sink his blade just under the alien’s helmet. The crunch of bone and the tearing of sinew vibrated through the knife as the blade struck home. The creature collapsed while its wet sticky blood warmed Jacob’s gloved hand.
Jacob hit the ground hard and continued his forward roll into the grass, somehow finding his way to his knees, his rifle slapping against his side from the sling. He looked up and saw the Gold staring at him. It pointed its golden-gloved left fist in Jacob’s direction. Seeing him on his knees, helpless and only feet away with the bloodied knife, the creature hesitated.
