James Axler – Gaia’s Demise

One of the blues threw a lump at the APC, and the war wag shook as something exploded under the prow.

“Chem gren,” J.B. stated, tilting his head. “We better hope they don’t have any thermite. That would melt our hull like candle wax!”

“Payback,” Jak growled, switching the selector switch on the cannon to its top position. A stuttering stream of shells chugged from the muzzle, the barrage of 25 mm rounds tearing up the surface of the road as he tracked the fleeing vehicle.

Stoically, the sec men maintained fire with the Kalashnikovs as their blackened wag darted off the road and into a field of wild corn. The tall stalks swallowed the vehicle whole.

Inside the wag, the floor was coated with hot brass shells that poured from the turret. Her hair a wild corona, Krysty shifted levers, and the LAV executed a sharp turn, two of the wheels leaving the ground as it angled after the fleeing blues into the abandoned farmland. Straight ahead was a solid wall of sundried corn stalks. There was no sign of the Hummer or its crew. Behind them, the fire on the road was starting to spread to the dry plants.

“Where are they?” Krysty demanded as the APC plowed through the wild corn, crushing the brittle stalks beneath its tires. It sounded like a million winter leaves rustling in a strong wind.

Ryan dropped the spent clip from his SIG-Sauer and slammed in a fresh one. “Circle to the right. We must have passed them.”

“Look for the smashed stalks of their trail!” Mildred added.

J.B. started for the rear of the wag. “Everybody keep a watch for any loops! They might try to swing around and get behind us!”

Unexpectedly, the shortwave radio lashed on top of their bedrolls began to crackle with a transmission, the words barely discernible above the background noise. There were just a few hastily barked commands, then hissing silence again.

Stepping close, Doc turned up the volume to the maximum. The normal static boomed in the confines of the wag, and after a few moments he lowered the volume to its normal level.

“They’re trying to call somebody for help,” he announced. “Most disconcerting.”

“Can we tell which way? Triangulate on the signal?” Mildred asked hopefully.

Still watching their wake, J.B. shook his head. “Not without special equipment. Dish antenna and such.”

“Damn.”

“They had to be close,” Ryan said thoughtfully, shifting his stance against the shaking of the floor. “Krysty, go left!”

The woman obeyed and the signal faded.

“Go back!”

She sent the APC as ordered and cried out in delight as they found the path of flattened plants. Hitting the gas pedal, Krysty steered the massive transport straight along the slim trail, the unbroken stalks on either side spraying into the air from the passage of their much wider vehicle.

As they followed a serpentine curve through the corn, the Hummer came into view once more. Struggling with the hot breech of the chain gun, Dean fed in a new ammo belt. At his father’s command, he raked the Hummer. A blue shirt loading his blaster cried out and dropped the weapon, almost falling from the Hummer. The others hauled the corpse back inside, and used the dead man as a shield, firing from behind his bloody form. Then a bulky satchel came flying over the Hummer from the front seat and landed squarely before the LAV.

“Shit!” Krysty shouted, and yanked on the steering levers, sending the LAV into the unbroken stalks to their left.

The world seemed to shatter from the titanic force of the detonation, blinding light flooding in through every port, and the war wag shook as it was slapped by the gigantic concussion. Ropes holding the supplies snapped and the piles of boxes toppled over, burying J.B. and knocking Jak out of the turret. He hit the floor sprawling and went limp.

The crackling radio clearly gave a report to somebody about a satchel charge of C-4 being used, results unknown.

“I’ll give you unknown,” Krysty growled, shifting into high gear and making the massive machine go faster.

The dry cornstalks shattered as the APC streaked across the field, the big engines screaming. The muscles stood out on Krysty’s arms as she worked the levers, forcing the multiton wag into a tight arc, swinging back the way they had just come. A few seconds passed, and she spied a dark blotch moving amid the cornstalks directly ahead of them.