At the End - a post-apocalyptic novel (The Road to Extinction, Book 1) (20 page)

“Are you dizzy?” I asked him, sucking in a
huge breath. The axe across my back was starting to weigh me down,
as if it were all of the sudden made of steel.

“A little,” he replied. “We’re just tired.
These
real
soldiers will get us to safety, and we’ll sleep
tonight.”

I nodded. “You hear Jacob?” Jacob slogged
along at the rear, panting violently.

“How could I not?” Tortilla glanced over his
shoulder and eyed Jacob’s stumbling steps. “Are you worried about
him?”

“Aren’t you? He’s on the verge of collapse.”
I focused harder on the trail. Large rocks occasionally rocked my
ankles if I didn’t keep a close eye on the ground.

“He’ll be all right, we got him the
medicine. Everything will be okay now.”

His words sounded awful in my head. A
threatening shadow lay hidden in them, one that worried my nerves
and scared my heart. I swallowed, my throat dry and roasting. I
trudged on, reflecting on the long journey from Bellingham, such a
short distance expanded into a few lengthy, miserable days. My mind
wandered and my thoughts fell upon Jelly. My gut twisted in
agonizing concern.

A couple of the soldiers talked amongst
themselves in hushed voices as we slowed for a breather. I walked
up to Burnhammer. “Hi, my name is Maggy.” I stuck out my hand. I
had never met a soldier, though I had imitated them enough from
movie scenes.

“Hi, Maggy.” She gripped my hand and shook.
“I’m Burnhammer.” She let go and smirked. “That’s quite an axe you
have there. You must be pretty strong to lug that around.”

“It’s made from neo-plastic,” I explained.
“Though often it’s a weight I don’t care to support.”

“Neo-plastic, that must have cost an arm and
a leg,” she replied.

“It was a birthday gift, and I imagine it
was two legs.”

Burnhammer laughed.

“Can I ask you a question?” I said.

She nodded. “Go for it.”

“Who are you guys and what are you doing
here?”

“We are 3rd squad of the 2nd platoon, most
often called Shadow Stalkers. Our blood runs in the Charlie
Company, 909th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team of the
56th Infantry Division.”

I gawked at her. “That’s a mouthful.”

“Don’t worry, I write it more than I say it.
But that’s who we are, the Shadow Stalkers. Right, Stalkers?”

“HOOAH,” the squad said in unison, keeping
their voices under control. Even Henderson, the Squad Leader, had
responded to the call.

“Been thinking of renaming ourselves the Cat
Killers, though,” a tall, barrel-chested man said, whose skin was
as dark as night. He grinned wide, displaying luminous white teeth.
“I’m going for the record. I’m guessing I’ll have a million by the
time the war is over.” His voice was the lowest bass I had ever
heard before, rattling my body.

“We’ll see about that, Park,” Burnhammer
said, laughing.

“Were you out to rescue us?” I asked. I
found their presence welcoming and overwhelming, glad to be
surrounded by them, but also nervous. I didn’t want them to think
of me as just a defenseless child, though that’s probably what I
was.

“We were ordered to collect medical
supplies, and to bring back any civilians. You’re lucky we found
you when we did; twenty of those monsters were advancing up that
hill.”

My eyes grew. “Twenty?” My voice cracked. I
contemplated the outcome of twenty alions encircling us. It was not
a pretty scene.

“You’ll be all right now. 5,000 of the 56th
are waiting for us back across Skyline, secured at the White Water
Tower. We’ll get ya there before the sun goes down,” Burnhammer
promised. Something about her voice made me believe her, made me
trust her. “We’ll kill every last one of these aliens.”

“Alions,” I corrected, as if she were
Jacob.

“What was that?”

“We’ve been calling them alions because they
look like lions,” I explained.

“Slick,” Park chimed in, his voice shaking
my chest. “We should report that to command. You’ll be as famous as
me for that one.” He grinned again.

“It is a pretty clever name,” Burnhammer
said. “Alions.” She repeated the word a few times to let it ring in
our ears.

“Toughen your tongues,” Henderson
ordered.

I looked up at Burnhammer, not knowing what
their commander meant.

“She means we have to shut up and
listen.”

I nodded, focusing on the silence that
encompassed us.

The noise of our feet grew. The heavy
breathing of tired bodies was loud and noticeable, even at a good
distance.

My eyes fell upon Tortilla. He still looked
lively despite the dark circles around his eyes. I had always
thought him determined, and now it showed in his thin body,
trudging on the squishy soil. He would keep me safe, and I would
protect him at all costs. For an instant, I thought about life
after the alions, a life with just the two of us living on the
coast, reading books as we listened to the crashing waves. But the
daydream disappeared as the squad ducked down.

We halted.

A roar flew through the trees. Immediately
Jane began shaking. Several more of the gut-wrenching roars hit our
ears.

The soldiers were hunkered down, scanning
every angle.

From atop a rock cliff above, an alion
pounced, claws out and jaws wide with the intent to kill. A woman
jerked her rifle up and launched a stream of destruction that tore
the beast apart. With the soldiers distracted, another beast sprung
out of the trees, grabbing hold of a man in a tumble. He fired into
the woods as they rolled off the path. Henderson took aim and
blasted a hole right through the alion’s ear. The soldier pushed
the soon-to-be corpse away, the body twitching as it slumped down
into a thicket of bushes.

Ahead of the column, another alion attacked,
firing black bullets. A soldier went down, pierced a dozen times.
It ran right for me. I lifted my pistol and braced with my hand
around my knuckles. PAP. The bullet shattered a tooth as it sunk
into the back of its throat and out its neck. Afraid, I pulled the
trigger again. PAP. Its body failed at my feet, buckling to the
mud, which splattered all over my already dirty clothes.

“Well goddamn, she can shoot,” a woman near
the end of the column said. “I think we found another soldier to
enlist.”

Henderson and Burnhammer ran to the corpse
of their fallen comrade. Henderson cursed. “Oh, Deter. Goddamn
you.” She tore off one of his dog tags hanging around his neck,
sticking the other paper-thin tag between his front teeth and
slammed his jaw shut. She scanned the vicinity, cautious.
“Specialist Deter is the last to die today, is that
understood?”

“Yes, sir!” the squad returned in
unison.

“Good. Now move your butts.”

Amanda had a hand wrapped around Jane’s
stomach, and another across her mouth to mute her screaming. “It’s
okay . . . it’s okay,” Amanda soothed her sister. “They’re dead
now.”

Jane struggled against her sister’s
strength, yelling furiously into Amanda’s hand until she
calmed.

Amanda let go. “I’m here for you.”

Jane nodded, streams of tears wetting her
clothes.

The soldiers moved us on. The path wound
back and forth, meandering like a river. Soon our path met up with
the Shelter Loop Trail, where we took a right, which then led us to
the Sunnyside Trail.

“Nice aiming back there,” a woman told me.
“I’m Corporal Emma Fox.”

I smiled at her, but I was too tired to
talk.

“We’re gonna need your ability,” Fox said.
With a pat on the back, she sped up and left me alone.

Tortilla grinned at me.

The minutes slowly passed. Finally, the
trail ended and we emptied onto SW Broadway Drive. Henderson
ordered the squad to head left until we found an alley and cut
across to SW Gerald Avenue. “The dentist office should be up just a
few blocks.” She regarded us with stern eyes. “Whatever you do,
don’t panic. Stay close to Burnhammer.”

We halted at the bend in the road. Henderson
snatched her radio. “Sergeant Loritz, state your situation.”

“Roadway clear along Terrace. No tangos in
sight.”

“We’re coming in from the west on Gerald.
Repeat: Golf, echo, romeo, alfa, lima, delta.”

“Copy position, sergeant. Soldiers are
holding ground.”

“All right, we’re clear. Move out.”
Henderson began hand signaling.

Four soldiers crossed the road to the north
side. Burnhammer pointed to where she wanted us to cross Terrace
Drive. “Go fast and low to the ground. Make yourself a small
target.”

Tortilla and I helped Jacob, and Amanda
pulled Jane along, ducking, shielding their faces in fear.

I glanced up and saw a yellow ball glowing
like a million sparks glued together. The top of the three-story
building exploded in a burst of yellow flame. Old red brick
particles flew through the air, little comets of death that sought
to pierce a thousand holes in our skin. Sections of the front broke
off, falling to the sidewalk and road.

In the sky, five alion ships buzzed past,
yellow balls destroying buildings, cars, trees, everything and
anything. All I could see was set afire. In the distance,
skyscrapers—pillars of achievement that stood as a testament to the
ends humans could engineer—crumbled, collapsing to dust and debris.
One after the other, as if the alions were playing dominos with
some of the greatest architectural designs in the world, the
buildings were bombed into ruins. The ground shook as if an
earthquake. Plumes of debris gathered together to create one
massive cloud that expanded in all directions.

Burnhammer yelled for us to stop as men
poured out of the building.

“Back, back, back!” someone boomed, but I
could barely understand the words as they became lost in the
pollution of noise that swept by in an ear-penetrating rumble.
Burnhammer yanked hard at my elbow. She threw Tortilla and me back
towards Gerald. Within moments, the debris cloud surrounded us like
the shocking desert sandstorms that occasionally showed up on the
news.

Someone pushed me into the building across
from where the dentist office had stood. A hand put a cloth across
my mouth. I took hold of the cloth and gasped in air. At times,
when the dust parted enough, I could see a dozen or more bodies,
all crowded around me. I think Tortilla bumped me, but I couldn’t
see him, and I made no notion to acknowledge whoever did it.

A thunderous boom echoed all around. Boom
after boom sounded off, louder than the cannon fired during
Bellingham’s Fourth of July celebration. I sat and waited,
listening to the horrific noise, frozen in the most excruciating
fear I had ever known.

Hours passed. A wind slowly stole away the
debris. Eventually I could see again, and Henderson made sure
everyone was okay and accounted for. The 3rd squad huddled around
us, and encircling them were the survivors of the 1st squad and the
other civilians, all packed together as tightly as we could
manage.

Henderson saluted a man with an austere
face, sharp-jawed and stone-eyed. “Sergeant Loritz.”

“Sergeant Henderson,” Loritz replied. “We
have three civilians. I’ve lost six soldiers to get this far, only
four of us remain.”

“We have to get back across Skyline,” she
told him. “And we’ve gotta move quickly. Wounded?”

Henderson’s assistant walked up. “Nothing
too serious, sir. No broken bones. We’re good to move.”

The Leaders discussed routes and their
advantages and disadvantages. At Henderson’s command, the squad
made ready, prepared to defend each other to their graves. There
was no time to talk to Tortilla or any of the others, as Burnhammer
hustled us out the building, motioning to the left.

My mouth gaped when I saw the empty skyline.
Instead of cloud-reaching towers, mounds of rubble lay before my
eyes, and a mist of finer particles.

Tortilla rubbed my back. “Do you think we’ll
live through today?”

I didn’t want to answer that question: there
was nothing positive left in me. Burnhammer ordered us along.
Tortilla jogged beside me. I turned to him, reaching for his hand.
“I hope so.” My faint, weak voice barely carried to his ears.

He squeezed my hand, a comforting squeeze
that I thought I could have been all right dying in. I glanced
around at the soldiers. They were tough, their faces afire with
determination, almost as if unaffected by the annihilation of the
city. But deep, deep in their eyes, I saw that it did get to them:
they were human. Yet, they put it aside, composed themselves,
summoned up strength and courage, and they carried on with
perseverance written on their trained faces.

I whirled around and saw Jacob laboring to
keep stride, inhaler in hand. The next time Burnhammer motioned us
down, while soldiers secured the area ahead, I tugged on her arm
and got her attention. “How much farther? My friend.” I pointed at
Jacob. “He’s not doing so well.”

“I’ve noticed. It’s about two klicks until
Skyline with the route we’re taking. I’ll keep him alive, don’t you
worry.” She ran back and gave Jacob a water bottle. A minute later,
an order sounded, and we ran on.

Broadway came under our feet once more, a
wide eight-lane road. At an intersection, Burnhammer motioned us up
SW Humphrey. The streets were silent again, undisturbed by the
racket of living creatures. I couldn’t hear the footsteps of the
soldiers. I couldn’t even hear my own steps, and for a moment I
thought I might have gone deaf,
but when I asked
Tortilla, his voice assured me I hadn't
.

A highway stood to our right as we ran,
still intact, but dead and motionless. It chilled my blood to look
at it, though I’m not sure why it frightened me so much.

Then I noticed light-brown dots running
along the road. “Alions!” I cried.