The vast majority of buildings-government, private, commercial, historical sites-stood intact, although the lack of maintenance showed in overgrown lawns, creeping vines, wind damage, and fading paint.
Five years after Armageddon, those buildings served as dens for a variety of creatures. Among the newcomers, Type A (herbivore, somewhat passive) Giant Sloths thrived by dining on the large number of trees throughout the city. In turn, Type B (carnivore, more aggressive) Giant Sloths thrived by dining on Type A Sloths, as well as a myriad of animals lower on the food chain such as slimy and electrified ‘Land Eels’ and dog-sized reptiles that spat acid and were known as-obviously-’Spit Lizards’.
Ironically, vacant cities like Wilmington became incubators for Earthly animals formerly in danger of eradication. Red wolves hunted amidst the buildings for both terrestrial and extraterrestrial prey including white-tailed deer prancing along vacant boulevards and furry six-legged squirrel-like mammals digging burrows in city parks. Foxes competed with alien carrion eaters for scraps and gray bats shared twilight airspace with gigantic Devilbats.
While the wildlife did not distinguish between Earthly and otherwise, Trevor Stone’s warriors did. Harmless or not, every alien creature faced extermination, and that was the job of the Hunter-Killer teams and why they came to Wilmington, North Carolina on Sunday, August 23 ^ rd.
Just before midday, a blue and white helicopter soared toward the squat skyline of Wilmington. Below the chopper, two columns of invaders marched aggressively for the city’s heart.
The first crossed the Northeast Cape Fear Bridge entering the city’s western sector; the second plunged southward along Route 117 intent on occupying the centrally located University of North Carolina at Wilmington campus.
Each column included a thousand disciplined and fearless K9s accompanied by human handlers dressed in black BDUs with matching caps carrying backpacks filled with specialized ordnance and armed primarily with shotguns or hunting rifles.
Nina Forest stood among crates in the rear hatch of an open-air Humvee holding a radio in one hand and clasping the roll bar with the other. She led the first column as it crossed the river and entered Wilmington from the west.
The previous day’s rain had blown out to sea leaving behind damp ground, fading puddles, and a musty smell everywhere. As noon approached, the clouds gave way to sun and the temperature rose. She rolled the sleeves on her black BDUs and took off her cap, letting a ponytail fall free to her shoulder blades.
Captain Nina Forest directed the Humvee to lead the mob of dogs and their handlers to the south along the river. When they came to a fork in the road, she radioed orders after consulting a map provided by the navigator sitting in the front passenger seat.
“Romeo One through Five, take Davis Street east until you hit McRae, then clear all points from Bess street north to Red Cross Street south with 4 ^ th as boundary west. How copy?”
“Romeo Command to Boss, hard copy all.”
Five different whistles blew and the mass of canines parted with half turning east into a residential neighborhood of small family dwellings, churches, and deteriorated neighborhood parks. Human handlers jogged alongside their fast-trotting Grenadiers waving their arms and shouting to show their army the way.
Nina surveyed the scene ahead where the four-lane blacktop led. Everything looked bleak and neglected, with colors worn to gray, dying and twisted landscaping, and scraps of litter coalescing against walls and stuck in the branches of bushes and trees. A picture postcard from post-apocalyptic America.
Insects-particularly mosquitoes-buzzed everywhere especially in the gravel and weed fields sloping down toward the river off to the right.
She pushed aside aesthetic considerations and dispatched the other half of her force.
“Juliet Two, push west to the river, spread out between the bank and Nutt Street and move south. You’re our right flank. Juliet Three, stack up next to Two, sweep the equipment rental place, the bus station, and then continue south on Front Street. Juliet Four, straight down on North Third until you hit the community college. Clear the college, secure a perimeter, and establish a first aid and rescue zone.”
“Juliet Four Command, solid copy.”
“Juliet Five, you’re our left flank. Start with that office building over there, keep Fourth Street to your left, and push south.”
More whistles. The remaining Grenadiers parted with handlers providing direction. One Legion still followed her Humvee.
Nina leaned over to speak with a dark-clad black man walking alongside her ride toting a military automatic shotgun, wearing stylish Oakley shades, and chewing a large wad of gum.
“Juliet One, you’re in reserve. Follow along and put out brush fires.”
The man with the shotgun and the shades answered with a thumbs up.
She returned her map to the navigator in the front seat and alternated her attention from left, to right, to straight ahead. Radio chatter from the Century commanders carried over her walkie-talkie.
“Juliet Two to Juliet Command, Something hopping around down by the shoreline…dogs got it.”
“Juliet Three Command to J-3 HK Alpha, open up the doors on the PPD Building and get some noses in there.”
“Roger that, Juliet Command we are Oscar Mike.”
“Romeo 5 to Romeo Command, we’ve got large scat outside the Johnson Elementary School. Looks recent, might be a, ah, Stumphide in the area.”
“Romeo 5 this is Romeo Command, hard copy. Clear the school with caution then search for tracks.”
A flurry of gunshots to the west pulled Nina’s ear from the radio.
“Juliet Two this is Boss, is that your fire?”
An out-of-breath voice replied, “Boss, Juliet Command, J-2 Charlie engaging hostiles between Front and Nutt streets. We’ve got a swarm of jellyfish coming out of a some kind of old railroad building.”
Nina slapped her hand on the roll bar and ordered the driver, “Get us over there.”
In response, the Humvee accelerated from a crawl and sped south on 3 ^ rd Street. Momentum caused her to tilt backwards as one hand held firmly to the bar while the other kept the walkie-talkie close to her ear. The navigator in the front passenger seat of the roofless Humvee relayed directions to the driver.
As they drove, Nina took note of her forces deployed and searching to either side of the main road. To her right, a female handler used a rifle butt to shatter a large plate glass window leading into some old retail shop; a trio of dogs stormed through the hole to search the darkness inside.
To her left, a pair of Rottweilers trapped something scaly in a withering bush at the rim of a parking lot. She saw their jaws work as her ride zipped by.
Further along they passed a massive skeleton-picked so clean the bones shined pure ivory-in a field adjacent to a Salvation Army building.
“Here’s our turn, Captain, hold on,” the soldier steering the Humvee warned as he swerved to the right. Nina’s body swayed in response.
They came upon a skirmish in the streets around an old train station, possibly a museum. The sounds of gunfire and a chorus of barking dogs carried over an open lot and echoed through a nearby parking garage.
Nina nearly fell forward as the Humvee came to an abrupt stop to avoid crashing into the center of the fray.
She counted twenty Giant Jellyfish ranging from six feet around to twice that size, each with cloudy white bodies and rows of similarly colored tendrils. A perimeter of K9s alternated between retreating from the things and attacking.
Nina saw one German shepherd lunge in and take an obviously foul-tasting chunk from one of the beasts as it slithered over a rusted Volkswagen at the middle of an intersection.