Simple really. A quick journey, a press of a button and it would all be over.
Vibrations rumbled through the metal box, knocking him against the packages inside, packages containing his fellow humans.
Through the lid he heard the croatoans clicking their displeasure at the delay.
The container stopped.
Charlie’s chest tightened and his pulse raced. He tried to keep his breathing short and shallow. The latch on the right side pinged open, the lid buckling, a spray of light bled in. He’d surely be spotted. He thought about Gregor again, thought that this was a set up, and rued the lack of foresight to bring in a hand-weapon with him.
The croatoan’s were getting angry, their clicks turning into barks. The container rocked violently to one side, the lid opening further, exposing him to anyone or anything that decided to look inside.
Gregor! Come on, he thought. Where the hell are—
Crack, crack, crack.
The sound of gunfire erupted, making the croatoans panic, their barks now high-pitched sounds of alarm. The lid was slammed shut and the latch closed. Feet shuffled away, something pneumatically hissed and thumped, and then the whir and whine of anti-grav engines.
The ruse worked.
Gregor came through.
This was it.
He clutched the bomb close to his body like a precious newborn. In a way, he thought, if all went well, it would give humanity a rebirth.
If it went well.
Chapter 36
FIFTEEN MINUTES HAD PASSED since the Jacksons’ departure. A distant buzz grew louder. The strange croatoan version of a forklift truck swept between trees up the trail.
The vehicle buzzed along, a few feet off the ground, containers stacked at the front, balanced on two large metallic prongs. A little croatoan controlled it, like the aliens who navigated the harvesters. It sat in a transparent box and shifted levers around.
Layla hoped Charlie was in one of the containers, clutching his bomb. Their survival depended on it. Everyone’s did.
Four aliens stood next to the shuttle’s open hatch at the rear, roughly the size of a garage door.
The forklift reached the shuttle and slowly dropped to the ground. Its prongs started to extend, moving the containers into the back of the craft. They slowly disappeared from view. The forklift pulled back the empty prongs and reversed before turning. It started to head back to the meat processing warehouse.
“Is that it?” Maria said, “Or do they have multiple loads.”
“Just one,” Gregor said. “On my signal. We turn and attack the farm.”
Ben raised his head from a patch of long grass he was lying in. “I thought it was a diversion? You shoot and the shuttle takes off.”
Gregor grimaced. “The fight-back has begun. Charlie isn’t sacrificing himself for us to act like chickens. We kill every leather faced bastard we find.”
“So he’s your hero now?” Maria said.
“Be careful, little lamb. I’m not the enemy. You don’t want me as one.”
Layla listened but watched the croatoans. One appeared from the side of the shuttle carrying a scanner. The tennis racket shaped object gave off X-ray like images on the clear circular part. If Charlie was in a container, they’d identify him. The weight must’ve been slightly off, triggering suspicion amongst the aliens.
Another croatoan joined the one carrying the scanner and they disappeared into the back of the shuttle.
“We need to do it now, Gregor,” Layla said.
“Just seen it,” Gregor said. “We watch them take off, move straight through the trees to the main square. Make your shots count. Barracks first. Get their weapons. Okay?”
Layla nodded. “Now or never.”
“Ready,” Maria said holding up her pistol.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Ben said.
Gregor aimed through the trees toward the forklift that was still moving slowly along the trial.
He fired three times.
The forklift picked up speed and disappeared from view.
Croatoans at the back of the shuttle started to move with urgency. The two outside hopped straight into the side entrance. The two inside the back compartment sprang out and followed. The rear door smoothly closed with a pneumatic hiss. The graphite ramp slide into the body of the vehicle and the side door slammed shut.
Engines roared into life. Dirt blew across the landing strip.
On the shuttle roof, the pulse cannon’s turret started to turn toward the forest.
“Run,” Gregor said.
Layla followed Gregor as he crashed through undergrowth like a wild boar. She glanced back. The shuttle was above the trees. Its cannon built toward a high pitched crescendo.
Gregor dived down and covered his ears. Layla did the same, landing with a squelch in a brown stagnant puddle.
The cannon boomed. A flash of brilliant light flooded the forest.
Debris flew over her head. Branches landed on top of her.
The shuttles engines whirred. Their noise started to drift away.
Layla glanced up. The six pink rings were getting smaller, like a colorful domino in the sky, heading toward the mother ship, carrying its deadly payload.
“Is everyone okay?” Gregor said.
He stood and helped Layla up by her arm. A section of forest to their left, the size of a basketball court, was obliterated by the cannon blast. Trees were smashed to the ground, their jagged black stumps smoking from the heat of the shot.
Ben rustled through the leaves of a thick branch that had blown off a tree. Maria crouched next to Layla. “Do they have those things on the farm?”
“No. Stick with Gregor. Do what he says. You’ll be fine.”
Gregor moved off at pace again. He broke the tree line and raced past his office. Layla kept focused on the ground ahead, trying to keep up, searching for any croatoans who would have heard the shuttle fire.
Single rifle shots came from the far end of the camp. Denver, carrying out his assault.
Croatoan rifles started to snap closer to them, coming from the square.
They moved along the side of the chocolate factory. Gregor paused at the end. Layla looked over his shoulder. Three aliens were mounting hover-bikes. Three fired toward the meat processing warehouse. Layla thought her heart was about to burst out of her chest as she struggled to control her breathing. This wasn’t her environment and she wondered if Gregor really was the one to get them out of this. But with Denver back toward the square, she had no other choice but to trust and follow.
Adopting a prone position, Gregor fired at three alien engineers standing in the square. One dropped forward, clutching its helmet. Denver must’ve hit another as it fell back between Gregor’s shots. The third croatoan started hopping away. Gregor cut it down before it could reach its barracks.
“Maria, Ben, you take the chocolate factory. They’re unarmed. Layla, come with me,” Gregor said.
They rushed across the square. Three hover-bikes thrust into the air and turned to face Layla. She ducked behind a parked hover-bike, tumbling down in a heap next to Gregor. She breathed deeply, steadied her hands, aimed and fired.
Shots echoed from behind, coming from inside the chocolate factory. Denver came running into the square, before he knelt and started firing into the sky.
An alien fell sideways off the closest, hovering bike. It remained in its position, slowly spinning around. The two remaining bikes zipped away, over the buildings in a southerly direction.