Anthony DeCosmo - Parallels

It did not concern him that they would be outnumbered; Trevor knew the attackers had been badly demoralized.

Furthermore, while Nina explained that the AATC fleet was too well guarded to be ‘borrowed,’ she promised something else; something collecting dust because The Committee refused to expend resources; because The Committee felt content to sit behind defenses fighting off attacks without ever striking back.

Reverend Johnny pulled a large, heavy machine gun from the wall. While he held little enthusiasm for Trevor's plan, the big gun brought a smile to his face.

Trevor glanced around the armory. He sensed a combination of excitement and focus from the soldiers. He had done it yet again; he had found the fighter in his fellow man and brought it to the surface. In this case, he did it despite each of these officers knowing they could face charges of insubordination.

He saw Nina checking her dual pistols and working the bolt on an assault rifle. She felt his eyes on her body. The Major met his gaze and grinned. She liked his eyes on her. She enjoyed him watching her as if she were the only person in the universe.

The power in the room mixed with the electricity crackling between Trevor and Nina. A raw energy. A dark energy.

Power…

…On the move again but this time the mob numbered hundreds, following Major Forest to a large set of metal shutters at the end of a lonely corridor.

Reverend Johnny stepped to the forefront, grabbed the handle, and grunted as he rolled the heavy portal open letting free a rush of stale air from a pitch black chamber.

While the others waited, Nina leaned inside. After the sound of heavy switches activating, lights flickered across a massive garage.

To Trevor, the place felt more like a tomb with dozens of relics covered in blue tarps and those tarps covered in a thick layer of dust.

Stone, Johnny, and the rest watched as Major Forest sauntered toward the nearest relic, grabbed its tarp, and-like a model introducing a new car at an auto show-ripped off the cover revealing a metal-framed buggy with gun mounts and seating for four.

The mass flooded the garage, eagerly freeing the vehicles from their shrouds. Underneath they found more buggies well as three and four-axle assault vehicles and transport trucks.

Soldiers loaded missiles into launchers, fed chain ammunition into machine guns, and stowed artillery shells in ammunition bins. Then they piled in and hung on wherever they could. The roar of engines and the sharp, greasy smell of fuel fumes filled the motor pool.

Nina climbed into the driver’s seat of a buggy with Trevor at her side and Johnny behind. In front of them, a horizontal metal bulkhead rolled up. The brilliant glow of the afternoon sun burst in like a fire bomb.

Nina pushed the accelerator. The lead buggy rolled out and into that sun followed by a swarming, rumbling mass of large and small vehicles, all captured on a security camera…

…feeding to a large monitor in the Operations Center.

The sight astounded a technician. He gasped and then drew the attention of Director Snowe, General Gronard, and the three men of The Committee who were in the midst of a spirited conversation about rules, regulations, and protocols.

"Um…Sirs…"

In unison, The Committee spied the incredible sight of their army’s vehicles speeding out from the garage like a stampede of angry beasts.

"Unbelievable!"

"Intolerable!"

"Insubordination!"

But they could only watch as…

…the lead buggy directed the pack of predators along the river bed to the east of the Chaktaw’s path. The rubber tires of the vehicles kicked up a plume of dust.

Trevor sat in the passenger seat next to the Major, constantly checking his watch to ensure they kept to schedule.

Bobbing and bouncing on the rough path, they sped north alongside the dried river bed, racing to get ahead of the Chaktaw's retreat…

…which resembled a mass of shambling, defeated zombies moving through the quarry.

A few remaining draft lizards wobbled along pulling heavy, catapult-like artillery pieces as well as medical wagons full of wounded. A couple of three-wheeled motor bikes cruised amidst the rabble of shuffling foot shoulders.

The Chaktaw fighters-still shocked at their defeat in front of Thebes-moved unaware they were being watched…

…by Trevor Stone through a pair of binoculars.

What Nina called a quarry seemed more a dirt path surrounded by banks of dusty soil and rocks, most likely the byproduct of the long-abandoned mining operation she had described.

None of that mattered to Trevor. What mattered was that the ‘quarry’ made for the perfect ambush. So perfect, in fact, he was surprised the Chaktaw had not scouted it first or at least moved their flank guards to the high ground.

Of course, the humans of Thebes had never pursued the attackers before. Perhaps The Committee's consistently weak and predictable response-or lack thereof-had lulled the Chaktaw into carelessness.

He observed the enemy column enter the long pass between the banks and held his hand aloft. He waited…waited…then waved the signal.

Short-range artillery shook the Chaktaw from their daze in a series of blasts claiming several easy victims. After that first volley, the collective holler of hundreds of human troops filled the quarry as they charged over the banks spitting rifle fire and tossing grenades.

Reverend Johnny swept the shocked column with his heavy weapon and while the design was foreign the results were quite familiar: enemy bodies torn to shreds, brown-shaded camouflage ponchos turned blood-red.

Nina emptied an entire clip from her bullpup carbine as she raced-nearly stumbled-down the slope. Instead of reloading, she discarded the rifle and pulled both pistols from their holsters. She fired madly, spent shell casings spewed from the ejector ports.

Some Chaktaw dropped to the ground and fired, others formed hasty lines of defense. Their guns answered and many humans fell in the barrage.

The second phase of the trap commenced with armored assault cars and gun-wielding buggies entering the quarry from the north and south, sealing their prey in a box.

Large chain guns swept a swath of death through the enemy ranks. Short range missiles pulverized pack animals and turned motor tricycles into smoldering ruins.

The Chaktaw managed to launch a few of their own anti-armor projectiles and knocked out several human vehicles…but not enough. Not nearly enough.

Trevor urged the wave of enraged humanity forward. Three of the enemy stood in his way, firing in his direction. Either through divinity or fortune, their shots went wide. Trevor’s fire did not. He emptied all his bullets into two poncho-wearing enemies. The third tried to reload. Trevor did not give him the chance; he drove his bayonet into the belly of his foe while screaming an angry roar; a beastly roar. The thrust of his weapon hoisted the humanoid off of his feet and threw him to the ground where the carcass rolled.

More chain guns; more of Nina’s dual pistols; more of First and Second Legion’s infantry firing rifles and throwing grenades.

Then it stopped.

Piles of bodies-some human, most not-filled the quarry…

… Pitiful moans and tearful medic calls replaced the sounds of battle. Dead and dying bodies formed piles across the floor of the quarry.

Trevor stepped over those bodies with his bayonet pointed down, waiting to spot movement and eager to put an end to any Chaktaw that still breathed. He stopped his work to eye a soldier leading three unarmed enemies away.

"Hey! Whoa! What’s this?"

The soldier answered, "Prisoners, sir."

Stone pulled his side arm. "Prisoners? Fuuuck that."

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Trevor holstered his gun and tried to get back to work but Nina approached with a question. "What do we do with the bodies?"