Anthony DeCosmo - Disintegration

Stonewall said, "Perhaps, Mr. Prescott, divine providence has steered you through the shattered lands to this place where you can fight once again with a purpose."

The Major sighed and changed the subject. "Maybe. In the meantime, I suppose it’d be a good idea for Mr. Nehru here to take the engineers under his wing and put them to use."

"Oh my goodness yes," Omar beamed.

"That sounds like a plan," Trevor agreed but his thoughts already raced ahead with a flurry of ideas now that trained and armed soldiers had joined the estate. Nonetheless, one issue hung in the air. As the meeting broke, Trevor took Prescott aside.

"Major, there is something we need to talk about."

The soldier raised his hand.

"Don’t worry none. I’ve spent the last six months barely surviving and wasting a lot of men’s lives. I look ‘round here and, geez, you’ve been doing some damn fine work. So yeah, I know whose giving the orders."

– One day later, Trevor formed a council of advisors. Evan Godfrey’s enthusiasm for the move faded when Trevor eschewed elections and handpicked the members.

Ironically, Godfrey’s work in helping new arrivals earned him a spot on the council overseeing housing and needs. Trevor put Reverend Johnny in charge of medical concerns and appointed Brewer as the point man for combat issues (with Prescott assisting).

Dante-still out scouting-would head internal security. This met with grumbles but Trevor wanted Dante on that council; the man had a way of seeing both sides of coins, even if his background lay in computers, not policing. Trevor knew that his best law enforcement people-Shep and Nina-would be needed on the front lines, not on guard duty.

Trevor placed Lori Brewer in charge of resident tracking and convinced Eva Rheimmer to travel in from her farm periodically to discuss the food supply.

Finally, Omar would handle "Science and Technology".

At the first council meeting-sans Dante-Evan bitched about the need for elected representation. Omar bitched about too many projects and not enough help. Reverend Johnny bitched about the lack of medical facilities. Eva Rheimmer bitched about having to travel all the way in from the farm to listen to all the bitching.

– On December 10 ^ th "Bear" Ross and McBride returned after having traveled all the way to Grove City in western Pennsylvania. During that trip, they contacted more than twenty survivors and spied a slew of solitary alien animals but no organized threats.

The next day Bird and Cassy Simms arrived home after having pushed far into New Jersey with the same results albeit on a grander scale: if all the people they met during their scouting trip managed to return to the estate then the ranks of survivors would grow by more than one hundred.

Dante and Kristy Kaufman completed their round trip on December 12 ^ th but brought no good news. Instead, they found something ominous outside of Binghamton, New York.

Trevor stared at a photograph as the council and other prominent survivors gathered in the command center.

Dante told them, "It’s one hellish looking thing. I mean, you stand anywhere near it and there’s like an electricity in the air."

Kristy added, "And lightning. All up there above it. Flashes in the sky."

The sphere in the photo stretched ten stories tall. It did not look as if it had been built; more as if it had been grown.

"Something bad, man," Dante explained. "I tell you, it gives me the creeps."

"And there’s things guarding it, too," Kristy said. "Disgusting things."

Reverend Johnny looked at the photo. "Perhaps it belongs to The Order, but I'm not sure."

Trevor tapped the picture.

I know someone who can.

– "I don’t be needin’ no picture," the Old Man said. "I know what you're talkin’ ‘bout."

"So it’s a gateway." Trevor stood by the fire in the forest.

"Boy, you’ve gotten really smart since the last time we powwowed."

"So these gateways are how all the aliens got here so they could kill off mankind." "I just knew you were gunna start thinkin’ you figured this shit out. Lemme tell you somethin’, if this was about killin’ off mankind you’d all be killed off by now. Some of the things out there, hell, they could rip the at-mos-fere off this world. Shit, some could crack the core and roast marshmallows on your cities as the whole ball of wax melts from the inside out." "So what? So what is all of this about?"

The Old Man clued him in… a little.

"It’s about defeat’n mankind. Beatin’. Sub-jew-gait-ing. Killin' ya’ll off, that’d be sort of anti-climatic. Turnin’ ya’ll into second-class nobody’s, now that’s an accomplishment. But it ain’t my job to go fillin’ you in on all this. Mind your bees wax."

"Wait a sec," Trevor formed an idea. "What if there’s a way to reverse the gates: suck everything back to where it came from."

"Yeah, yeah," the Old Man encouraged. "In one shot you could go sendin’ em’ all packin’! Why, it’d be over lickity-split!"

The Old Man paused for a moment to let his sarcasm sink in and then mocked, "What you expectin’? You think there’s an exhaust port on this Death Star? One lucky shot and- whammo — everything is as right as rain? Maybe you haven’t seen the light of it yet. Face it, whatchya got here is an ole’ fashioned slugfest, Trev. The Martians ain’t gunna catch cold and die. You can’t kill the mother creature and all the little ones waste away. No magic bullets."

"So, what? It doesn’t matter about this gate thing?"

"Sure it matters. The more of em’ gates are around the more re-in-force-mints the bad guys get. Take a gate out and you take a step toward wipin’ em’ all out. Cause that’s what you got to do, Trev. You got to wipe em’ all out."

"That’s it? Just shoot, kill, and blow things up?"

"Eureka! I think he’s got it! What did it used to say on that T-shirt? Oh yeah, ‘kill em’ all and let God sort em’ out.’ That’s your motto, Trevor. And you know what? You got it in you."

"You really think so?"

"Before this is over, Trevor, you’re gunna realize one important thing ‘bout yourself: your soul was damned before you was born."

Trevor guided the 'Eagle' northward with, thanks to Omar, better-fitting pilot goggles.

Outside the ship, thick flurries rode the air: not quite yet a storm.

Nina sat in the co-pilot’s seat but Trevor remained the only one who knew how to fly the alien craft. That meant three perfectly good flying machines sat unused in Wilkes-Barre.

Danny Washburn, Dante Jones and ten ‘volunteers’-including a few from Major Prescott's troop-filled the passenger compartment. Eight K9s rounded out the advanced team.

A ground convoy led by Stonewall transported more vehicles, people, and armaments to the battle but they would not arrive until morning.

In the meantime, Trevor's group would scout the area, assess the gateway, and formulate a plan to destroy it. That's why Trevor picked Danny Washburn to come along; his career with ATF meant he had experience with things that went BANG.

The ship pushed through a veil of white. Below, the deep woods and hills of the Endless Mountains rolled north turning whiter and whiter the further they travelled.

The Eagle crossed the New York border on December 15 ^ th en route to the campus of SUNY Binghamton situated off the Vestal Parkway south of that city.

During the first part of the flight, Trevor followed Interstate 81. After crossing the state line, he relied on a compass Omar super-glued to the control panel, one of several modifications to the alien craft including sport bucket seats pulled from a BMW.

Most important, Omar had rigged two energy weapons derived from the Redcoats’ rifles on a swivel beneath the front landing pods giving the Eagles talons.