Anthony DeCosmo - Disintegration

Stonewall answered, "All good things…"

The two men-now covered with grime and dust-rolled out from beneath the bus and ran toward the alley. Two burning blue balls fell from the sky and hit the bus which disintegrated into metal shavings until consuming the fume-filled gas tank. The tank exploded, turning those metal shavings into shrapnel.

They rounded the corner and came upon Benny Duda holding the reigns of three steeds.

"Saddle up, our work has just begun, gentlemen," Stonewall ordered.

"What? Huh?" Dustin, following behind, asked.

Stonewall saw Dustin clutching the side of his head. "I say, are you injured?"

"What's that, General?"

Dustin pulled his hand from his head. He lacked a right ear.

– Ross admired the aliens' tenacity as he watched their advance from a parking garage roof.

After shelling this group of Redcoats-identified as the 2 ^ nd Regiment-on Wilkes-Barre Boulevard, Ross had retreated to a small parking garage on the King's College campus a few blocks north of Public Square. He expected the regiment to be in hot pursuit. Instead, it took them well into the afternoon to move a half-mile.

Apparently, the Redcoats intended to leave no stone unturned; no hiding spot uncovered. They broke into groups of three and searched every house along their path, much to Woody Ross' amusement.

In most cases, they entered homes and buildings, searched, and exited empty handed. Other forays proved more entertaining.

In one instance, Ross saw flashes of alien gunfire and then soldiers emerged from a home with the "trophy" of an emaciated house cat.

Another trio kicked open a door and rushed in only to be chased to the sidewalk by a two-legged lizard using its dome-shaped head like a battering ram to strike dead a Redcoat before they could power-up their energy guns enough to cut through its armor-plated hide.

Ross thought about sending the Redcoats a note of appreciation. Their slow progress gave him a chance to prepare a few surprises, their house-to-house searching reduced the hostiles in the city, and their brightly-dressed attention-grabbing army drew creatures away from Ross' (and Stonewall's) smaller, more vulnerable bands of fighters.

Finally, the 2 ^ nd Regiment approached perpendicular to North Main Street. From his perch above that intersection, Ross saw another bad surprise looming for the Redcoats: acid-spitting dog-sized cockroaches swarming up Main Street. The Redcoats-their lead elements still around the corner-could not see the line of big bugs.

Ross, foreseeing chaos, decided to add to it.

"Smoke canisters! Hurry!"

Mortar rounds hit at the front of the Redcoat line. The soldiers held their ranks in a most admirable manner.

The regiment commander led his men into the billowing clouds of white fog, probably assuming the smoke hid a human retreat. At the same time, the horde of oversized bugs essentially t-boned the Redcoat column.

From behind the veil of smoke came screams, the zap of energy weapons, commands yelled in an alien tongue, and insect hisses. Yellow streams of burning acid sizzled like the sound of water on a hot frying pan. Above the mess floated the 2 ^ nd Regiment's air ship that had failed to spot the danger.

A cold wind dissipated the smoke aiding the Redcoat officers in gaining control of their men-those not melted into piles-and utilizing their energy weapons to destroy the swarm.

As the last insects died…as the fray finally subsided…as the Redcoats formed marching lines once again, the mortars fired this time with explosive shells that-given the close range and tightly packed enemy formation-simply could not miss.

Two…four…six explosions raked the army. Body parts, helmets, and equipment tossed into the air while neatly lined rows of Redcoats toppled like dominoes.

With the aid of their air ship, the Redcoats spotted their attackers and fired energy bolts toward the roof of the parking garage.

Ross ordered the retreat and the mortar teams-lugging heavy backpacks as well as the mortar tubes-evacuated the roof.

As three enemy squads marched into the confines of the garage, Ross and his men slipped out the rear, hidden from the aircraft’s view by shabby and dead overgrown brush.

Inside, the Redcoats surrounded an odd-looking human vehicle; scrape marks from the low-hanging garage roof were visible on its cab as well as the white, tubular body. The aliens did not understand the symbols: AGWAY PROPANE.

The concrete ceiling and floor funneled the explosion laterally, engulfing the Redcoats in a firestorm of burning gas and exploding truck. Balls of black smoke rolled out from the garage and the blast echoed across the city, catching the attention of numerous hostile ears.

While two more squads went inside to extract survivors, a mob of ghouls plowed into the remaining regiment elements on the street.

This time panic struck the ranks. Individual soldiers fired wildly as the speed of the attack allowed no time for formal lines. The regiment commander personally killed two of the bony, ape-like fiends at close range.

Eventually, the Redcoats overcame the assault. Nonetheless, two more squads had been badly mauled, pushing the formation's casualty count over sixty percent.

An alien shuttle landed on the parking garage roof and loaded wounded for evacuation.

Mortar rounds exploded on and around the ship, lobbed from the roof of a tall King’s College dormitory three hundred yards to the southwest.

Rifle charge packs stored onboard the ship created a secondary explosion resulting in an inferno. Fire jetted from the open sliding side doors and the cockpit window exploded out. The injured Redcoats onboard became dead Redcoats and nearby healthy Redcoats became dead or injured Redcoats.

The remaining members of the 2 ^ nd Regiment retreated into a small building catty-corner from the parking garage and established a hard point.

An hour later, a squad leader missing after the shuttle exploded crossed the street to join his comrades. He appeared dazed and disheveled and carried a message for the Redcoat General. When translated, it read: "General Stonewall McAllister will accept your surrender with the following terms: you will strip naked and crawl through the streets begging for mercy."

– Gray clouds swept in and turned the city dark earlier than usual. Shepherd-drinking his third cup of horrible instant coffee-contacted Trevor via radio.

"The 3 ^ rd Regiment bugged out before dark along with two flying ships. Garrett tracked them. Give em' credit, they search just about every house, shop, and bowling alley they pass. But get this; they stopped when the sun went down. Looks like they don’t like fighting at night."

Trevor said, "Everything they do is really formal. Maybe where they came from they fight wars like gentlemen in a dual. Or maybe their world has more sunlight or something."

"Whatever the reason, it looks like they took over a bunch of houses off Wilkes-Barre Boulevard and have hunkered down for the night. That means the Reds have committed three of their four regiments to the fight."

"As best as we could hope," Trevor radioed through cracks of static.

Shep waved away a cloud of smoke from Omar's cigarette; the scientist lay nearby studying the Redcoat artillery through binoculars.

"Anyways, Ross tore up their 2 ^ nd Regiment really good. ‘Course he had some help from our friends downtown. Point being, that bunch lost most of their men and are held up in a building on North Main Street. Tell you what, though, them boys can hold a hard point. Ross says there’s been waves of things bull-rushing them for hours and they mowed them all down."

"They’re disciplined and their weapons pack a punch. What about the 1 ^ st Regiment?"

Shepherd snickered. "After they got stomped, they headed straight for the Square. Garrett says them fellas got hit with a whole shitload of baddies. He saw a blob chase them and one of them…whattayacallit…a ‘Stick Ogre’ brained a bunch of them before they blasted it. Now they’re held up in a big blue and white office building downtown."