The moment it was past, he shoved a hand out the window and sent off the third flare. It was a signal he had never used before, and had spent his whole adult life hoping not to. It as the signal for disaster, invasion and much much worse.
Then a blinding flash of light slashed across the kiosk, slicing apart the masonry. A terrible pain seared in his stomach, and he tried for a scream when the grenade in his pocket detonated, blowing his steaming guts across the rubble in a grisly crimson spray.
AS THE TROOP of armed sec men marched around a corner, J.B. darted from behind a pile of rotting garbage and across the dark street, taking a defensive position.
He whistled low twice, and the rest of the companions followed him with Krysty on rear guard.
“These guys aren’t too sharp,” Mildred commented. “I’ve seen better guards in hotel lobbies!”
A dull clanging noise rose from atop the Citadel. Then, softly, a siren started to howl, growing in pitch and volume until its strident scream split the night apart. Lights started coming on in every window of every home, doors burst open and half-dressed men stumbled into the streets, weapons in hands.
The companions retreated farther into the safety of darkness.
“They finally know we’re here,” Krysty said, her pistol steady in a combat grip.
“Took them long enough to notice,” J.B. retorted, one of the homemade sugar bombs held ready, its long fuse dangling like the swing hoist of a petard.
Cradled in Doc’s arms, Shard shook his head.
“Not for us?” Jak asked.
The patient winced as Mildred reached over to tighten a bloody bandage. “Invaders,” Shard wheezed. “Yule’s under attack.”
With both of his longblasters extended like the horns of a bull, Ryan smiled. “Better coverage for us.”
“Chaos is the friend of thieves,” Krysty agreed, her hair moving to its own secret rhythm.
“No,” Mildred countered, the expression on her face lost in the shadows. “Remember, the Beast is dead, the Sons destroyed. Who else is tere who would dare attack this fort?”
“Don’t know,” Shard replied.
“Mayhap some new enemy,” Doc espoused, slightly shifting the position of the man he carried. “Raiders, mercies. The list of palliards who hate and/or lust after this locale must be nigh infinite.”
Bastard hope so,” Ryan muttered, doubtfully eyeing the mounting chaos in the streets. A trio of sec men struggled to roll a black powder cannon into position before the very door they had left only moments ago. Ryan checked the status of his weapons.
“Forget silent, we’re going hard,” he announced.
“Kill on sight. I’m on point. J.B., cover our rear with the bombs. Mildred and Dean, cover Doc and Shard. Something big is happening, something more important than us escaping or a slave rebellion, and I want no part of it.”
THE RANGER ROLLED unstoppable along the road that led to the primitive city. Land mines constantly exploded under its rebuilt treads, causing more smoke and noise than damage. Twice a barrage of glass bottles filled with coal oil smashed onto its bull, covering the patched-together tank with flames. This was unfortunate as it greatly increased the vehicle’s visibility, but it did little else. The drones had done their job properly, and while not up to its original standards, the General Electric Ranger Mark LV was functional.
The Ranger had patrolled the ruins of the city and the desert sands of Ohio, wandering aimlessly, Unable to locate any hint of the unknown invaders who had destroyed it. Then a radio signal began to weakly broadcast from the area ahead. The Ranger’s main computer recognized this was a nonmilitary fortress full of civilians. However, if they were assisting the enemy, they were to be considered traitors and dealt with accordingly.
Bypassing another disguised pit, on the forward vid scanners the Ranger detected a crude wall of tree trunks embedded into the dirt atop a low hill: the outer perimeter of the civilian fortress. Activity bustled along the oak palisade, high probability security personnel preparing weapons. Radar indicated a low percentage of steel, scant iron, absolutely no depleted uranium and no high-energy sources that might power lasers or microwave beamers. Low-tech weapons only, certainly no danger to the adamantine hull of the Mark IV.