Christopher Nuttall - Invasion

He smiled. “Can you imagine what we’re asking the Russians and French to do?”

“It does have its humorous side,” the President agreed. “If they all cooperate…”

“If they all play ball,” Francis agreed, “we might actually manage to get this insane plan to work.” He frowned. “I think that the aliens might be preparing for a third landing.”

“A third?” The President snapped. “Where?”

“Australia,” Francis said. “I got it from MI6 — that’s the British intelligence service — and they got it from their counterparts down under. They’re taking more alien KEW strikes now and it looks as if they’re going to be knocked back down again; every harbour and airport has been destroyed. Indonesia is also taking a beating, but it’s just not as interesting to the aliens as Australia. If they want Australia, they can take it, probably.”

“And their deployments?”

“The Australians know as much as anyone else about how the aliens work,” Francis said. “They should have made preparations for resisting an alien landing, but… if they land in enough force, they can probably take Australia completely within a few weeks. They don’t have a large enough army to stand off the aliens.”

“And so another state is lost,” the President said. “Once they control Australia, they can bring other nations into line and keep consolidating their control. Japan… Japan is effectively on their side now, while China is just trying to avoid an uprising.”

“They got hurt worse than we did when the aliens attacked,” Francis said. “Their economy is a shambles and the chaos from the Korean border isn’t helping. If their government falls completely, they’re fragile enough to go through a second warlord period… and that will remove them from the balance sheet. By the time they recover, the aliens will probably hold the rest of the world.”

“Not if we can help it,” the President said. There was a note of renewed determination in his voice. Francis welcomed it, even though he knew it wouldn’t last. The President studied the map, noting the red shade that covered Texas, the Middle East and North Africa. The aliens were having real problems with the Pakistani border, but Islamabad seemed to have lost control completely, leaving the disposition of their nukes a total mystery. Francis had even heard a rumour that the Indians were considering a strike against the Pakistani nukes before they could fall into the hands of fanatics who might turn them against India, even with the aliens breathing down their necks.

The President’s gaze fell on China. “Is there no way we can get in touch with them?”

“We can try, but it’s hard to know what their government controls now,” Francis admitted. He allowed a bitter note to seep into his voice. “If we don’t stop the aliens, that’s what we might look like, in a few months. If the aliens don’t blow up the world and call it a draw, of course.”

The aliens, wisely, had finally imposed a formal curfew on the humans in Austin, but a smart person could avoid being picked up, provided that he was careful. Brent hadn’t lied when he’d claimed to have walked a further distance, but even he had to admit that this time he would be facing more dangerous opponents, if they knew that he was out there. The last time had been facing a group of terrorists who’d given up the chase after a few days, on a mission that had never become public knowledge, but now… now he had to get out of the Red Zone completely.

He’d planned carefully. The aliens might have the city sealed, but they hadn’t cut off all traffic, not when they needed to move things out of the city. There was a small army of truckers working for them, some semi-willingly, others with their hands cuffed to the steering wheels, and they were granted permission to move in and out of the city, provided their papers were cleared. They were, for the most part, tough men and women and he would have liked to have had them in the open resistance forces, but their current work was too important. The aliens had them moving supplies from their new cities into Austin and shipping back empty containers, one of which now contained his supplies and rucksack.

“You’d better keep well hidden,” the trucker said, his face a nervous mask. Brent didn’t know his name — it was safer that way — but he’d been tested before and found to be a strong link. He’d actually helped smuggle a few dozen people out of the city before, to one of the refugee camps in the countryside, but this was something different. He could earn one hell of a reward from the aliens if he turned Brent in to them. “The bastards see you, you’re dead.”

The container — and indeed the entire vehicle — had been rigged, carefully, but Brent still felt exposed… and naked. The one thing he couldn’t take with him was an obvious weapon, not through the checkpoint, although he had placed a pistol in the bottom of his sack. If the aliens found him, they might let him through… as long as they thought he was just some idiot trying to get to the refugee camps. If he were carrying a weapon, it would mark him as a soldier… and a heretic. A handful of other resistance fighters had been charged with betraying their new religion and burned in public, pour encourager les autres. He had no intention of going the same way.

He felt the dull rumble of the diesel engines as the truck moved down towards the checkpoint. He listened carefully as the aliens gave the truck a quick examination, but they couldn’t go through all of them, not when they were leaving the city. They’d caught quite a few truckers trying to smuggle weapons into the city, but they weren’t as careful for departing vehicles, not always. If he’d been betrayed… there was a brief exchange between the driver and the aliens, too low for him to make out the words, and then the truck went back into gear, heading out through the cleared roads, westwards towards the alien city.

“You can come out now,” the driver hissed. Brent pulled himself out of the container and crawled forward to the cab. He could see the lights of the lead truck in the distance, but little else; the countryside was as dark and silent as the grave. It was unnatural, as if all of humanity had vanished, to be replaced by a world where monsters ruled the night, but there was no time to care. “They won’t bother us until it’s too late.”

He pointed a finger at the roof. “They’re watching us from up there,” he warned. “You sure you want to do this?”

Brent looked upwards. The sky seemed alive, the twinkling light of alien craft high overhead… and, to the west, an unnatural glow lighting up the skies. “You want a honest answer to that?” He asked. “I don’t think there’s much choice now. What would they do if they found me when we reached their city?”

He looked back towards the silent black mass of Austin. “I’ll take my leave now,” he said, as he worked briefly on the door. “Keep your mouth shut and no one will notice.”

The driver slowed the vehicle and then stopped, as if he was answering a call of nature.. “Good luck,” he said. “God bless America!”

Brent barely heard him as he leapt from the vehicle, into the darkness. It had been almost impossible to get a clear view of what was waiting for him, but as he landed neatly on the tarmac, he realised that he’d timed it perfectly. The jump had been dangerous, but if the driver had stopped for long, it would have been disastrous. The aliens, watching from high above, might not see him, but they would see the halt. They would start to wonder why.