Pit Bulls vs Aliens (16 page)

The colonel nodded. “Those weapons might not be too effective on their own.” He turned to the lieutenant. “Get these men some rocket launchers and grenades and show them where to set up.”

The gang members cheered and followed the lieutenant.

“We need all the help we can get, Sergeant,” the colonel said.

The sergeant smiled. “Yes, sir.”

Darren returned to the command center as the colonel walked back to the front line and watched as everyone worked to get ready. The newcomers had heard the horror stories, and the fear was reflected in their faces. He wished he had words to offer for comfort, but Colonel Jamison couldn’t quell his own trepidation.

The estimated day arrived and the new spikes sped downward. Everyone waited. The colonel watched the monitor as the alien soldiers rushed outward from the raised shield. With no attack imminent, they ran with ease toward the waiting soldiers. Marines had marked the point for attack where claymore mines lay waiting. The aliens kept coming. As they neared the American and Mexican troops—and gang members—the colonel gave the order to charge. Everyone started running forward, snaking southward through the brush. Fighter jets flew over and began to drop napalm, but like all other attacks from the air, it was deflected. The sky lit up in bright red as the napalm connected with the shield above the aliens. The claymores worked. They caught the enemy off guard and at least disoriented them for a while.

As the explosions began to subside, the colonel and his men arrived to bombard the aliens with grenades and rockets. It worked better than the last defense, but only temporarily. Some aliens were down, but as the remaining alien soldiers regained their composure, they opened fire with their large guns. Each shot opened a hole in the ground with a massive explosion, sending any soldier within ten feet flying into the air.

But no one gave up; everybody just kept throwing grenades and firing the rockets and rifles.

Colonel Jamison knew they had made a decent stand today, but without proper firepower, there was nothing more they could do, so he gave the order to retreat. That proved to not be an easy task. The aliens reacted to the new attack with a vengeance, firing at will at anything moving.

Soldiers rushed to the trucks and jeeps to get away. Some trucks were totally destroyed by the alien fire. The colonel hurried to a jeep as Lieutenant Williamson joined him. They sped away, trying to make it to the dye line that marked the new territory. But they didn’t make it. A shot from an alien gun connected with the back of the jeep and sent it airborne.

The colonel found himself on his back twenty feet from the impact crater. His eyes were blurry, his ears ringing. He could move, albeit not without pain, but he concluded nothing was broken. He tried to stand but couldn’t. As his eyes began to focus, he saw the beast coming toward him. He turned and looked northward and could see the dye line only about twenty yards away. There was no way he could make it.

The giant alien did not appear to have his weapon, so he charged the colonel with the apparent intent of simply squashing him, his eyes glowing red.

The colonel pulled his sidearm and fired at the face of the alien. It had no effect. This was it. He was helpless. Suddenly the armor of the alien erupted in two explosions, throwing him off balance. Someone grabbed the colonel underneath the arms and began dragging him. He was pulled all the way past the line through the dye. As soon as he was on the other side, the alien, who had recovered from the grenade blasts, did not pursue any farther, but turned to stroll away.

The colonel looked around expecting to see Lieutenant Williamson. But such was not the case. When he saw the identity of his rescuer, he smiled.

“Are you okay, Colonel?”

The colonel felt over his body. He was beat up, bruised, bleeding, and sore, but very much alive. He nodded to the guy who had pulled him to safety. “I’m okay, Francisco.” He looked over the young man who had just saved his life. Any other time he would have frowned upon such a person, maybe even looked down on him. For some reason, his fatherly instincts, which had eluded his own sons for so long, kicked into high gear. “Where’s your mother and father, son?”

Francisco shrugged. “Never knew my father. My mom and younger sister are at home.”

Without trying to sound condescending, the colonel attempted to express his concerns. “Don’t you think you should be trying to take care of them instead of running around with a gang?”

Francisco looked the colonel in the eyes. “
Sí
. I do try to take care of them. I know that being in a gang was my choice, but I assure you, Colonel, it wasn’t my first choice.”

As the colonel looked into Francisco’s eyes as well, he knew now he had never tried to understand. How could he know what this young man had been through in his life? How could he judge him by his appearance? All he knew for sure was this person showed up and volunteered to put his life on the line for his family, and that he had just pulled him to safety. He knew there was only one appropriate thing to say. “Thank you for saving my life.”

The young man smiled, stood up, and lowered his hand to aid the colonel, who took his hand and stood up as well.

“
Sí
, Colonel. You’re welcome.”

Colonel Jamison sat at the table in the command center, now positioned in the southern part of Mexico. It had been two days since the last battle. Although they had mounted a more successful defense, losses were still great, totaling 30 percent of manpower once again, except for the Latino gang, who never heeded the retreat order and continued to fight, even taking on the monsters hand to hand. As far as the colonel knew, there were only about fifteen of them left, including Francisco.

“Sir?”

The colonel glanced up, obviously unaware that others had joined him. “What is it, Dr. Mitchell?”

“I’d like to call a think session.”

The colonel looked up wearily. “What is that?”

“It’s what we used to do at SETI meetings. We throw out ideas at random, hoping one will be of use.”

The colonel nodded. “Yes, let’s do that.”

Everyone sat around the table. General Echevarria, Major Strafford, and Captain Owens seemed eager to hear any ideas.

“Okay,” Darren began. “Let’s begin with what doesn’t work.”

Major Strafford laughed. “That’s quite a list.”

Colonel Jamison nodded. “We know every attack from our ships, subs, and fighters and bombers have been unsuccessful, even the napalm. In other words, our most powerful weapons are null and void.”

“Okay.” Dr. McNair joined in. “So we have to concentrate on what will work on the ground.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“How about bear traps?” Thomas blurted out.

All four military commanders laughed.

“No, that’s okay,” Darren said. “This is exactly what a think session is. Not all ideas pan out, but the key is to keep throwing them out there.”

“If only they were allergic to something,” Sally said. “You know, something not harmful to humans.”

“Maybe we could examine one of the dead ones,” Captain Owens suggested.

“Exactly,” Sally said. “If I could do an autopsy on one of them, we might learn something about how their systems work.”

“But the shield covers the battlefield when the fighting is over,” Major Strafford said. “That means we’d have to attempt that during the heat of battle. How would we even do that? Hook a rope around their ankles and drag them to you?”

“It might work,” the colonel said. “Let’s try to figure out a way to get a dead alien to Dr. Xie so she can dissect the bastard to find out what makes him tick.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Back to the question at hand,” the major said. “How do we fight them now?”

“What about bees?” Thomas asked. “Maybe we could drop a hundred hives on them. Even if they weren’t allergic, it would sure be painful to them. I mean . . . wouldn’t it? ”

“Now that’s not bad,” Major Strafford said.

The room was silent for two full minutes as everyone thought.

“Well,” the colonel finally said, “are bees and bear traps the best we’ve got?”

“The truth is,” Sally said, “that primitive weapons might be the most effective. Their technology is so far advanced, they’ve learned how to defend against high-tech weapons, but maybe they’ve forgotten how to defend against low-tech devices, even bear traps.”

Captain Owens spoke up. “The same goes for us. We can’t train soldiers overnight how to use spears and bows and arrows again. I mean, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Even spears and arrows won’t penetrate their armor,” Major Strafford said. “We need something that can attack them from behind.”

“Boomerangs,” Thomas blurted out again.

Everyone laughed.

“It’s not bad,” the colonel said. “Do we know of anything more lethal that can circle around to the rear of the aliens?”

No one had an answer.

“Wait a minute,” Dr. McNair said. His eyes shifted around but were not focusing on anything in the room. “Wait a minute,” he repeated.

“Well?” Darren said. “Share it with us.”

Dr. McNair looked up. “I was just remembering my family’s last ski trip many years ago.”

Everyone laughed.

Captain Owens patted the table as he laughed. “Great. Do you have slides?”

“No, no, wait,” Dr. McNair continued. “I remember that it hadn’t snowed so the resorts made their own. These creatures love the heat, right? They’ve been warming our planet for years now. They even picked Central America for their point of invasion. Forget attacking them with fire from above; let’s attack them with cold from the ground.”

The colonel sat up a little straighter. “How would we do that?”

“Snow machines,” Thomas said.

The colonel let the information sink in. “You mean—”

“Yes, sir,” Dr. McNair answered. “We set up snowmaking machines all along the front of the shield and blast away. I’m not sure the snow will stay with this heat, but it might cool the area down enough to make them really uncomfortable.”

The colonel jumped up and rushed to the SATCOM and put in a call for General Nickerson. Once he got him on the line, the colonel told him what they needed.

Major Strafford crossed his arms and nodded. “Yeah, I knew I would think of something.”

The next day, large military helicopters began delivering snowmaking machines. They raided every ski resort in North America. Soldiers had instructions to spread the machines out along the front of the shield, approximately one hundred feet away. They worked night and day to finish.

“They’re all in place,” Sally told the colonel.

The colonel looked out over the area. It was still partially wooded, so he couldn’t see very far. But the snow machines were all pointed in the right direction, and it would be only a few days before the shield would lift. To the colonel they resembled large spotlights. “Fire ’em up!” he ordered.

The machines, fed by water lines, came to life and began shooting arcs of snow into the air all the way to the shield. But with temps over one hundred degrees, the snow was melting as fast as it was flying.

“All we can do is let them run,” the colonel said and walked back into the command center.

He and the other commanders went over strategies while the team of advisors tried to think of other ideas. They all went to sleep that night with the slightest spark of hope. The snow machines might be a dumb idea, but it was at least an idea.

The hum of the machines allowed the colonel to quickly drift to sleep. He slept long and hard with no nightmares and woke up refreshed, although a bit embarrassed that it was almost nine in the morning. The smell of coffee lured him into the main part of the command center, and he took a seat. Everyone else was already there.

The major laughingly looked at his watch, making the colonel smile.

“One more day after today,” the colonel said. “Are we ready?”

“Yes, sir,” the major, captain, and general answered.

“Have you looked outside?” Sally asked.

The colonel looked up as he was raising the cup of coffee to his lips. “No. Why?”

Sally and the others were grinning, so he walked to the door and opened it.

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.” Angel rushed out beside him and ran toward the machines. The colonel stepped out and let his eyes take in the scene. It looked like a winter wonderland. The ground was covered with at least a foot of snow. It was even piled up on the shield. Angel bounced up and down as she ran and played in the frosty white flakes.

Everyone came outside and laughed at the pit bull having fun in the snow.

“We didn’t get much snow in Georgia,” the colonel said. “She’s loving it.”

“Come on,” Thomas said to Sally. “Let’s play in the snow.”

Sally hesitated for a moment, then added another shirt and put socks over her hands. No one had thought to bring winter clothes. Why would anyone, in the summer during a global warming crisis in Central America? She walked out and saw Thomas drudging through the powdery piles of fine ice. She ran to join him.

“Hey!” Thomas yelled as a snowball hit him in the back of the head. “Watch the hair.”

“You poor baby,” Sally said as she threw another.

Angel bounced all around them as the snowball fight ensued.

Darren and Dr. McNair joined them, and for at least a moment, all of them forgot what a predicament they were in.

“You seem quite at home in the snow,” Darren said to Sally.

“You bet. I grew up in Minnesota. We had the harshest winters in all of the country. My parents are still there.”

“Ah, the parents,” Thomas joked. “I guess you’ll be taking me home to meet them when this is all over.”

Sally laughed and threw another snowball at him. “In your dreams.”

Dr. McNair mostly played with Angel. It made him think of his new friend, Glenda Eagle. He wanted to forget what lay ahead also, but found it impossible to do so. As much as he enjoyed seeing the accumulation of snow and everyone having fun playing in it, he couldn’t help but realize that they were fighting a race of aliens, aliens who had conquered space travel and the harness of solar power, and they were fighting them with flakes of ice.