John Davis: The Colony

And slowly, not to mention very reluctantly, the two men swapped guard detail at the door.

“The children need food,” Lieutenant Jack Strong commented, both Wesley and Renaldo standing close by. “And they are going to need it as soon as possible.

“Alright boss.” Renaldo replied, both men agreeing, as were the general and Julia.

“The supply cache in the chopper…” Jack began to suggest.

“Bad idea boss.” Renaldo replied.

“What do you mean bad idea?”

“Bronson thought it best that we make the most of a short trip.” the sniper replied.

“Meaning?” Jack asked sternly.

“He thought it better to bring luxury items.”

Jack continued a stare of investigation, waiting for a further explanation from the stringy soldier.

“Vodka and chocolate bars, to be precise.”

“Are you fucking?” Jack began to ask, stopping short when realizing the children were close by.

Then, grabbing the sniper by his elbow, Jack led the man away far enough to question him as a soldier.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jack asked. “You mean to tell me that our supply cache, the metal box which normally contains rations for the field, is full of booze and chocolate?”

“Vodka actually.” the sniper replied.

“I don’t give a shit!” the XO said with a growl. “He’s an idiot for

suggesting it, and you’re an idiot for doing it!”

“Yes sir boss.” the sniper acknowledged.

“Cut the boss shit Renaldo, this is serious. These kids have been here way too long without food.”

“Let me know what you want and consider it done.” the sniper replied, turning for a moment to glance at the children.

“That’s the million dollar question,” Jack replied. “Everyone on me!” he demanded loudly, prompting his group of soldiers to hustle to attention.

“Hadn’t heard from our team on the ground. They should have checked in by now,” Bailey said, a small group gathered on the ship’s bridge. “Lincoln and Sayers will take the second copter down for a quick flyby. Recon only. You hustle your asses down below the hard deck and find out what’s going on. Then you report straight back to me. Double time!”

“Yes sir.” Lincoln replied, the husky soldier resembling a street hooligan in appearance, black hair hanging just below his ears and a strong chisel of chin.

“I mean it Lincoln, recon only.” Bailey reminded him.

“I got it.”

It was a legitimate reminder, Lincoln’s wrap one of being a hothead. More times than not, he would do what needed to be done, even against direct orders. A soldier, not a politician.

Red tape was not his strong suit, and most of those within Earth Defense ranks wanted no part of him on their team. But Lieutenant Jack Strong had been the exception. He could appreciate a man with values. And Lincoln respected Jack as a leader. Only part of the reason that Bailey felt inclined to remind the man of the sensitivity of the mission ahead.

Then there was Sayers. Typical soldier, though a bit on the scrappy side. Brush cut up top and a frame that filled out with the results of daily pushups. Though he was a good soldier, very solid with a battle rifle, his knack was reading digital equipment. He could literally see things through a monitor in a simple flyby that most others seemed to miss. He had an attention for detail.

And though Bailey worried a bit, he had no time to second guess his order. The two men had already boarded their chopper, prepping it for a hop. Doing it so quickly that most looking on began to wonder if their order had interfered with their routine. One that consisted of eating, sleeping…and not much else.

“Stay in contact throughout the flight. Make sure they stay on point.” Bailey commented.

“Yes sir.” Chandra replied, turning to exchange com traffic in order to test the equipment.

Then, without warning, the chopper dropped from the hangar back, free-falling through a large opening in the floor.

It exposed an empty hangar bay. One large room of steel walls with two openings in the floor, each of them normally home to a chopper held in place by extending arms of steel. Now, however, Bailey found himself looking out of the openings onto the glow of a moon below.

“Always hated this shit!” Lincoln yelled, both soldier strapped in tight as the chopper dropped like a stone into the planet’s atmosphere.

“Well, the rain is knocking out all communication. Something else to hate.” Sayers replied.

“Fuck it, I don’t like talking on this thing anyway. Just stay glued to the monitors and we’ll do a quick flyby.” Lincoln said.

“You can count on that.”

“What?” Bronson asked with anger. “I just dried off!”

“Suck it up,” Jack replied. “It’s your fault the ship is loaded down with vodka to begin with!”

“Either way, I think the hard part will be getting back to the chopper. You have no idea what we’re dealing with LT.” Twiggy commented.

“Whatever is on the outside of this door has no idea who it’s fucking with,” Jack said, hoisting a battle rifle onto his right shoulder. “I’m looking at a bunch of starving kids, and I’m a might-bit pissed off about it.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Bronson asked with a bit of sarcasm.

“Our jobs,” Jack replied sharply. “Renaldo and Wesley stay here with the survivors while we carry our asses to the ship. We get there and back it up to the door. It’ll give us a chance to try and make contact with the others and provide whatever comfort we can to these survivors.”

“Jack, you don’t understand. These fucking things outside…they’re like nothing we’ve seen before. That short trip to the chopper isn’t gonna seem so short if these bastards are still outside.”

“Then run fast,” Jack replied. “And if all else fails, shoot the bastards.”

“Yea.” Bronson said with disgust.

“Getting something.” Sayers said, the chopper doing a low pass over the colony, though they could see nothing but rain.

“What is it?” Lincoln asked.

“It’s a com from ground team. Sounds like a looped message, but they’re alright. The rain is just knocking out their communications to the ship, which is understandable.” Sayers replied.

“I hear that,” Lincoln said with a nod. “This shit is thick as thieves.”

Sayers agreed with a chuckle, continuing to monitor everything he could through the com system.

“I’ll turn and do another pass, then we’ll report back to the XO. Let him know all is well.” Lincoln said with confidence.

“Fuck!” Bronson yelled, turning to fire several shots into the blanket of rain behind him.

The man was strong, but greatly hindered, as he dragged a seriously wounded Twiggy with his left arm.

“Just get him to the chopper, it’s up ahead. I’ll do what I can to hold them back!” Jack yelled, his voice nearly overpowered by the sound of falling rain.

The men still had not seen what was stalking them, exactly, but knew Twiggy’s injuries were severe. He had been severed through the chest, though none of the men had even seen the enemy. They were literally blinded by the rain, with only the faint outline of the chopper visible.

As a leader, Lieutenant Jack Strong felt horrible, having made it to the chopper with both of his men trailing behind. The soldier in him screamed for immediate return to help Bronson drag their wounded friend with haste. But the human being inside of him knew the children inside of the fallout shelter depended on at least one of them to make it back with the chopper. It was their only hope.