Anthony DeCosmo - Empire

“Well, Chief Parsons, I see your point. I don’t agree with it, but I see it.”

Parsons responded in a soothing voice, “I hope someday you do agree. If you do, come back here to stay with us. Lots of good fishing on Town Creek.”

Shepherd smiled. “Thank you. I’m afraid that in the meantime, I have a job to do. I must get moving. I’m on a time frame. We’ll get through as quickly as we can. I don’t want to disturb your people any more than necessary. The main body will probably get here around-”

“No.”

“Huh? What say you?”

Parsons tried to smile to soften the blow, but he could only soften it so much.

“We will not grant your army permission to pass through our town. These are our lands. We would be facilitating the violence we so vehemently oppose. I assure you, should the Hivvans come in the other direction we would not grant them passage, either.”

“Hmm, well we have ourselves a problem,” Shepherd said. “You see, Chief Parsons, Seventeen is the only direct way to get around the Green Swamp down here. There is a reason we came this way. I really don’t have any choice.”

“General you do, in fact, have a choice. A choice between violence and peace. A choice you and your Emperor will have to make. It may be that the fate of humanity itself will hang in your decision. I hope you choose wisely.”

Airlie Gardens covered more than 77 acres east of downtown Wilmington and west of Wrightsville Beach, providing an oasis of nature in the midst of the city.

Old world visitors enjoyed vast gardens of azaleas and camellias as well as pleasant strolls along the forested grounds while swans and other aquatic fowl made homes on ten acres of freshwater lakes.

Alas, five years without upkeep took its toll on Airlie Gardens. Weeds and unwelcome species of wildflowers mustered in the shadows of the exquisite gardens, tainting the beauty with a wild look.

A band of Mutants moved in to Airlie Gardens after the world came to an end. All that natural beauty provided cover and the central location made it an ideal area for staging raids on the city’s dwindling population and then, later, against camps of survivors.

Around the same time that Cassy Simms made first contact with the people of New Winnabow, Nina Forest and the Dark Wolves waded across Bradley Creek on the southern side of Airlie Gardens.

Dressed in slick black wetsuits, the team swam a considerable distance until the water grew shallow enough to walk to the western bank. They stayed low, allowing only their heads, shoulders, and plastic-covered weapons to poke above the boggy surface of the water.

Two black and gray Norwegian Elkhounds came with the team, Odin and Phobos.

Not a breed known for their swimming acumen, the Elkhounds learned through training and experience to cross short stretches of water.

Nina led the group of four commandos and two dogs through the tidal creek until they arrived at the riparian buffer lining the bank. The trees and thick growth afforded the Wolves cover as they slipped off their wet suits to reveal green camouflage underneath.

They believed the aliens held the hostages at the Mt. Lebanon Chapel, a historic old house of worship in a clearing not far from the banks of the creek.

To get there, Nina would have to cut through the tree line of the creek buffer, follow a wooded walking path, and find the perimeter fence of the graveyard to the south of the chapel. From there they would reconnoiter the area to ascertain the situation.

While the specifics might change, the strategy would remain simple: kill the Mutants, free the captives.

As for those Mutants, they occupied a middle ground between the organized extraterrestrial armies conquering land and enslaving humans-like the Hivvans-and animal life, both predators and prey, now a part of Earth’s ecosystem.

In appearance, Mutants were bipedal humanoids. Oversized mouths filled with jagged teeth and a forked tongue dominated their oval heads. A pair of small eyes sat above round nostrils

As for disposition, Mutants acted something akin to a motorcycle gang, wreaking chaotic destruction wherever they rode on their speedy hovercraft bikes. They wore clothing resembling leather and carried a variety of blunt and edged weapons as well as a firearm similar in function to an 18 ^ th century flintlock pistol.

In the five years since the aliens arrived on Earth, Nina came to know that Mutants preferred to avoid battle. Instead, they employed the tactics of terror: harassment, torment, and murder. As if they lived to inflict suffering.

In that regard, their taking of hostages felt out of character, as did their decision to leave a survivor to dictate terms. For that matter, just trying to communicate came as a surprise, she knew of no other such instances.

Nina guessed that, perhaps, The Empire’s reputation preceded it into Wilmington, putting such a fright into the bastards that they grew desperate.

According to the people of Wrightsville Beach, a pack of these Mutants happened upon a group of kids from the town’s orphanage taking part in a ‘learn to fish’ outing. They gathered them into a school bus and forced it to the gardens, leaving behind a terrified eight year old with terms: safe passage out of the city.

As her team approached the Bradley Creek Overlook, the Mutants surprised Nina yet again; she spied two sentries keeping watch. A more organized and more thoughtful move than she expected from these fiends.

On the other hand, it came as no surprise to Nina to see that the two sentries were not very alert. They shuffled about kicking at the wooden slats, swatting flies, and occasionally shoving each other; doing just about anything other than watching for threats.

The wooden overlook included a walkway and a viewing patio designed to observe the tidal creek ecosystem without disturbing it. Using binoculars, Nina scanned the forest and shrubs around the overlook for any hidden guards. She saw nothing.

“Um, Cap, we going to do something about these guys? It’s a long way ‘round,” Carl Bly whispered as the four humans and their K9 compliment lay prone under cover of heavy brush.

Satisfied no other surprises waited, she said, “Okay look, we snipe them.”

Nina produced a scoped M4 and attached a sound suppressor.

“Vince, you take the one on the left, I got the one on the right.”

Vince Caesar followed suite, silencer and all.

“On three,” Nina commanded. “One…two…”

Bullets flew across the open terrain without a sound. Both shots found their mark. Both targets dropped, thudding to the floorboards.

Nina’s team waited. No sound of alarm came.

“Pack it up, let’s go.”

The Dark Wolves crossed the open terrain to the darkness under the overlook.

Oliver Maddock and Carl Bly-with a boost from the other two-scaled the wooden structure and threw the dead enemy bodies over the railing into brush.

With the first obstacle overcome, the Dark Wolves proceeded with their mission…

…Built in 1835, the Mt. Lebanon Chapel was a small white wooden building one-story tall with a sharply pointed roof, a short steeple, and rows of large stately windows.

A dirt and gravel field separated the chapel from the forest. A road cut a tunnel through the woodlands as it headed away from the area but an empty yellow school bus blocked that path.

In front of the chapel, Nina saw a large bell atop a wooden post that looked at home on the grounds of the quaint church.

On the other hand, she saw something that did not match the surroundings: a Mutant refueling station in the form of a tall sharp pillar that reminded her of a miniature version of the Washington monument. Several unattended Mutant hoverbikes floated at its base.