AB (The Blake Reynolds Chronicles Book 1) (21 page)

Lord Dameon
tried to ignore the gunfire outside the building. Instead, he chose to focus on
supervising the last few details of sending the message. Once everything was completed,
a sense of relief washed over him.

“I just need to
run a few diagnostics, then we will be ready. In the meantime, you can verify
the message you want to send on that terminal over there.” His technician pointed
to the laptop on the other table.

Lord Dameon
walked over to the computer and examined the simple sentence: “We are here.”

He let the
technician know that he would go let his people know that the celebration was
about to begin. He wanted to be notified when the message was ready to be sent.
The technician nodded his head and worked on a separate laptop.

Lord Dameon
walked to the porch of the command center and carried a megaphone. Most of the chosen’s
attention was focused on the old white church. Lord Dameon pressed the button
on the megaphone, which made a loud screech. His brothers and sisters instantly
faced him.

“My Brothers
and Sisters, the time has come to call the creators. The transmitter is built,
and the message will be sent shortly. The creators will be here soon!” Thousands
of cheers echoed.

Blake and his
men heard the enemy leader’s speech. Their hearts sank because they knew how
close they had come to accomplishing their mission.

Blake brought his
men into the small chapel. As his men gathered, his thoughts turned to Tara.
“She’s probably dead, and I will probably be joining her soon,” he thought.

“Men, it has
been an honor fighting with all of you today. I have never fought with more
valiant and brave soldiers. But even with our heroic efforts, it hasn’t been
enough. If this bastard is able to send his message, everyone who died today
will have died in vain.”

He had to pause
for a moment as his voice started to crack. “Not only will the deaths of the
brave men and women be in vain today, but also every civilian – men, women, and
children. They will all face extinction if that message is sent and the aliens
that created this mess come and finish us off. What I am about to ask of you I
don’t do lightly. But I want… no, what civilization needs is for each of you to
charge the communication center and somehow shut down that transmitter. I know
I’m asking you to give up your lives on a suicide mission, but one of us might
just get lucky. I will lead the charge myself. Are you with me?”

A private in
the back was the first to reply: “Huya.” Every soldier in the room raised his gun
and chanted the military slogan in unison with him. ”Huya, Huya!”

Blake ordered a
couple of his men to keep guard over the bombs and destroy the keys if
necessary.

Everyone poured
out of the church. They screamed battle cries with their fists raised. The ABs
spun around and snarled.

The enemy had
pulled back so that they could remove the bodies of their comrades, which were
making it difficult to finish wiping out the unclean. Every member of Tara’s
group was covered in sweat and blood and was barely recognizable as being
human. There were less than thirty survivors now, and a general sense of resolve
had settled over the group that they would all die here today. They all
welcomed the brief pause in the battle so that they could catch their breath,
but the bloodlust still rushed through their veins.

It only took
the ABs a few minutes to clear the bodies, and they were soon forming their
circle around the survivors.

The soldier standing next to Tara
turned and looked at her. “I guess this is it, and for what it is worth, you
fight pretty good for a girl.”

This almost made
Tara smile, but she was too tired to let it break past her lips. They were
surrounded by hundreds of ABs packed three or four deep. It had been even more
before, but many had left to head to the center of town. Tara stood a few
meters across from the AB men and women looking into their eyes. For a brief
moment, she wondered what they were thinking. Did they have children that they
were fighting for? Was their cause worth dying for?

A signal was given,
and the ABs charged their lines. The fighting was as fierce as before at first,
but as soon as it started something strange happened. A large black woman that
Tara was fighting with suddenly stopped, and a blank stare came over her face.
Tara plunged her knife into the woman’s chest before she could recover. The AB
woman, instead of clutching her chest and screaming in agony, appeared to
simply lie down and go to sleep. All around the circle the enemies were lying
down. At first the soldiers finished them off by the hundreds, but their
humanity took hold, and they fell back to the center of their circle.

The ABs were now hitting the ground
so fast that they were piling up on one another. Panic spread across their
ranks, and they started to fall back to the old white church, leaving a trail
of bodies as they raced away.

A cheer went up
amongst Tara and the survivors. They all had confused but jubilant looks on
their faces. Tara reached down and checked the pulse of one of the ABs that
appeared to have fallen asleep. At first the pulse was extremely weak and slow,
then it just stopped.

Tara stood and
addressed her fellow survivors. “They are dying. They are dying!” Everyone
wanted to cheer, but the realization of the mass destruction suppressed the
jubilation, and most just sat down on the blood-soaked ground to recover from
their exhaustion.

Tara didn’t know
what to make of what had just happened but could only think of one thing. Blake
was probably still out there and might need their help. She walked over to the lieutenant.
“Sir, we are doing no good here. Our soldiers might need our help attacking the
communication center if there are any of those AB bastards left.”

“You’re correct,
Reynolds.” He then turned to the group. “Break time is over, ladies. If we
don’t hurry we will miss the final dance at the communication center, so let’s
move out.” He looked back at Tara and cracked a slight smile.

As Blake and
his men charged the front lines, a strange thing happened. One by one, the men
and women along the AB’s lines dropped to the ground. Blake signaled his men to
halt. The AB leaders in the back were encouraging their troops to attack, but
they all had the same wide-open eyes that seemed to be looking at nothing. In a
few minutes, most of the ABs were lying on the ground motionless.

“Hell, that
damn antigen-bomb thing worked!” Blake thought. Everyone cheered, including
Blake. But then he noticed that most of the surviving enemies in the back of
the masses did not seem to be affected by the bomb. They retreated towards the
communication building.

Blake estimated
that their numbers were down to around a hundred. He grinned. A hundred enemies
against his twenty surviving Marines was something he could live with, and he
felt confident with their chances.

Blake turned to
his small band. “Give them hell!” His men yelled with him. Blake thought their
battle cries would make Spartan gladiators proud. The sound of the battle
filled the air along with the screams of the dying. Blake noted that these ABs were
much harder to fight than the ones they had encountered earlier in the day.
Many of them were or had been in the military. Their skills were evenly matched
to his men. They were also ready to die for their cause. However, they didn’t
possess the sharply honed skills and training to work as a team that Blake’s
men did.

Blake lost
count of the AB bodies that he had killed while he made his way through the
enemy lines. He fought his way to the large front steps of the building, his
face and hands covered in AB blood. Hurriedly, he scanned the situation and counted
his surviving men. It appeared that there were ten of his men still left
standing. Over half of the enemy was killed, but the remaining men fought fiercely.
A few blocks to the west, Blake saw another fifty or so ABs running to
reinforce their comrades.

Blake glanced
to the west and saw a small band of Marines rushing towards them. All of a
sudden, Blake’s private who had been carrying the bomb appeared next to him. “My
orders are to shadow you, so here I am.”

Blake smiled at
the private’s tenacity. ”Well then, let’s go finish the job.” They burst
through the building’s doors. Moments later the approaching group of ABs and the
small band of Marines joined the fight.

Blake and his
private quickly made their way through each room with their knives ready. Blake
took the lead, and the private watched his back. He scanned the dimly lit hallway
and noticed that at the end was a bright light, and there were several cables
coming out of the room on the left. He silently signaled to the private his intentions
to enter the room, and they both crept along the wall to the edge of the door. They
were so focused on the source of the light that they didn’t hear the footsteps
behind them.

The private
yelled, and Blake spun around to see what the source of the private’s alarm was.
Two large ABs wearing tattered and blood-covered Navy SEAL uniforms growled as
they held their knives. “They must’ve seen us run into the building,” Blake
thought.

The private raised
his knife to deflect the strike from the first AB, but he couldn’t deflect the thrust
of the second attacker. The knife went deep into his stomach below his body
armor.

“No!” Blake
shouted.

The private
grunted as he started to cough out blood. But the private’s first attacker made
a mistake figuring his adversary was dead and stayed too close. With the private’s
last breath, he sank his knife into the head of the AB soldier standing in
front of him. Both men dropped to the floor, leaving Blake alone with the
second AB soldier.

The remaining
AB drew his sidearm out of its holster. Blake instantly dove into the room as
the bullets whizzed past him into the wall. Blake quickly rolled on the ground and
noticed a man in a white suit. He stood on the other side of the room, staring
at a laptop’s screen.

“That’s the one
who was addressing the crowd!” Blake thought. “He’s going to send that message.
I have to stop him.” However, the bullets outside the door reminded him that he
had other problems to worry about first.

Blake leaped next
to the opening of the door and waited for the AB soldier to enter. Seconds
later, the AB’s gun appeared through the door. Blake slammed the butt of his knife
onto the enemy’s hand. The gun slid across the floor, and the AB soldier dove into
the room. He rolled inside and immediately stood.

Blake switched
his knife to his right hand, and the two soldiers circled each other to gain an
advantage over one another. The AB soldier grabbed a large wrench off of the nearby
table, threw it at Blake’s head, and lunged forward. Blake sidestepped the
wrench, but the motion threw him off balance and knocked him to the floor. He couldn’t
anticipate the approaching knife aimed at his head.

Blake dropped
his knife and grabbed the AB’s wrist with both hands. He grunted as he
struggled to keep the AB’s knife away from his head. The AB shoved his weight behind
his knife hoping to end the fight.

Suddenly, Blake
flashed back to a technique he had learned from an old Marine when he was in boot
camp. Blake knew if he didn’t try something he would be dead in seconds. The
knife slowly moved closer to his head, and his right hand suddenly released its
grip. With the same fluid motion, he twisted his body, moved his head to the
right, and the knife stabbed the wooden floor.

The knife
nicked his ear, and blood dripped down his neck. However, he was still alive.
With his free hand, he plunged his thumb into the AB’s eye. The enemy immediately
sat up and tried to extract Blake’s thumb out of his eye.

“Gotcha!” Blake
thought. He grabbed the knife in the floor next to his head. With all the
strength he had left, he yelled and plunged the knife into the side of the AB’s
neck. Blake lay back on the ground, and the AB soldier dropped to the floor.

It was only
seconds before Blake stood and focused his attention to Lord Dameon. Suddenly,
the AB leader gleefully yelled in excitement at something he was seeing on the
laptop in front of him. Blake sprinted across the room, but before he could reach
him, Lord Dameon pulled a small handgun out of his pocket. He aimed it straight
at Blake’s head. Blake froze.

“You know, I am
an extremely peaceful man most of the time. Even now, I wish I could convince
you to join us.” He walked from one computer to the other. Blake assumed one of
them contained the message about to be sent.

“However, I
know that you and your kind will never accept us. I also know that you will
never accept the gift that has been granted to us. What is your name, soldier?”

Blake hesitated
but decided to play his little game to buy more time. “Blake. My name is Major
Blake Reynolds.”

“Well, Mister
Blake… once I press this button, our message will be sent, and the creators
will come. They will help us purge the unclean from this planet. It’s too bad
you won’t be a part of it.”

“If I can just
surprise attack him, maybe I can buy myself more time,” Blake thought. He knew
it was better to die in an attempt to stop Lord Dameon than listen to him talk
anymore.

Blake lunged
forward, and Lord Dameon pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Blake below his
body armor just above his hip. Blake knew that he had been hit but felt no
pain.

A panicked look
spread across Lord Dameon’s face as Blake got to within feet of him. Two more
shots went off. The first missed, and the second grazed his head. Blake fell to
the floor, and the room grew darker.

Blake vaguely
noticed someone rushing into the room. The voice yelled and pointed a gun
towards Lord Dameon. Suddenly, everything was silent, and darkness covered his
eyes.