Summer Lane - State of Chaos

“Why would they do that?” I ask.

“Maybe they heard we were coming,” Derek chuckles.

“No. Not possible,” Chris replies. “They wouldn’t evacuate a facility because a militia group was coming to attack, anyway. Besides, why would they leave vehicles behind? They would beef up security because they’d want us dead.” He furrows his brow. “If they’re gone, there could be valuable supplies left inside.”

“We should go check it out.”

“I don’t want everybody checking it out at once. Too risky.” He looks over his shoulder. “Derek, you stay here with your men. I’ll take my platoon. Keep your eyes open.”

“You got it, sir.”

“Let’s move out,” Chris says.

We proceed into the field, skirting the edges and staying under cover as we approach the depot. The thick silence of the night isn’t doing anything to make me feel better about this situation. I look back over my shoulder, but it’s impossible to see Derek or the rest of our groups. They’re camouflaged too well.

As we get close to the depot, I study the surroundings. Tire tracks crisscross the dirt parking lot. Electrical machinery that was killed by the EMP is piled outside the main building in a large heap. Chris signals a few of the men and they round the edges of the main building, climbing up the side. We wait in the shadows, listening and watching for signs of danger.

One of the men pulls himself up to a window. He takes a quick look around and starts climbing back down to the ground. He jogs towards us along with the other men.

“Well?” Chris asks.

“It’s empty.”

“ What ?”

“Totally empty. There’s nothing in there, man.”

I bite my lip, alarm spiking through me.

“We need to get out of here,” I say.

Chris doesn’t disagree, but he doesn’t say anything either.

“How could they…?” He trails off, lost in his own thoughts. A terrified scream rips through the air at that moment. A woman’s scream — one of our own. We instinctively drop to the ground and focus our sights across the field. Something’s happening. I hear voices and gunfire and then, I turn my head. Because I’m pressed against the ground, I have a great view of the underside of the Omega trucks parked on the property. My eyes settle on a blinking black package attached to the bottom of the bumper of one of the vehicles.

“Oh, my god,” I breathe. “It’s a bomb.”

Chris snaps his gaze in my direction, realization hitting us at the same time.

“Run!” he yells.

A simple command, but universal. We jump up and book it just as the first bomb detonates. I’m running, so the explosion hits me like a brick wall. I feel the impact slam into my back and send me flying forward several feet. I skid on my stomach and roll over a few times, scraping against dirt and rocks. Metallic tasting blood pools in my mouth. I must have bit my tongue.

I scramble to my feet, only to fall back down again, dizzy and disoriented. My ears are ringing. Chris grabs my arm and helps me find my balance. I look back over my shoulder and gasp. Three or four of the militiamen in our group are lying motionless on the ground about thirty feet behind us. The Omega truck that exploded is nothing more than a hulking mass of smoking, twisted metal. I’m vaguely aware of rapid gunfire in the background, but my ringing ears make it difficult to gauge the distance of the weapons.

Chris drags me into the tall grass and suddenly the entire area is alive with lights and movement. Another Omega vehicle detonates on the edge of the property, sending shockwaves through the field. Luckily, none of our men are close enough to it to be killed, but Max’s group is probably more than a little bit singed.

Omega troops swarm out of the wooded areas bordering the fields, either drawing our men out in the open or pushing them back into the hills. Both are bad. I don’t even have time to take aim and shoot. All I can do is run.

Because we’ve walked right into a trap.

I spot Derek’s group going head to head with an Omega patrol. Men and women are knocked to the ground. Shot, knifed, kicked, smashed, punched. The end product is always death. The adrenaline rush I’ve been expecting finally hits me, but it’s tainted with horror. All around me our soldiers are being slaughtered. Omega troopers are boxing us in from all sides. They were waiting for us. Watching us as we approached the building.

How could they have known we were coming tonight?

There’s a spy in your camp, my gut tells me.

I crawl through the grass, following Chris’s lead. We need to reach cover, otherwise we’re going to die. Period. We finally get to Derek’s group, but the only cover we have here is the tall grass.

These open fields are lethal.

I take out my gun, but I don’t even have time to use it. An Omega trooper fires at me from twenty feet away, but I see him moving. I duck out of the way and hit the ground, bringing the gun into my shoulder. Powered with superhuman levels of adrenaline and desperation, I sight him, squeeze the trigger, and take him out. Just like that.

I stay right there on the ground, hidden in the shadows, taking out as many troopers as I can until it’s impossible for me to stay in the same place anymore. One of our militiamen accidentally steps on my back, leaving a muddy footprint on the rear panel of my jacket. Yeah. Time to move and stick to maneuvers I know inside and out: Shoot, move and communicate.

Chris is fighting next to Max. Both of them are using every weapon at their disposal, everything from guns to their fists. But Omega keeps coming. They continue to swarm out of the hills like grasshoppers. It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen — and I’ve seen some pretty scary stuff since the EMP went down. Sophia literally crashes into me, running at full speed out of the woods. We both tumble to the ground and I look up, my eyes landing on her pursuer, an Omega trooper. I spring to my feet, knock his rifle sideways and kick him hard in the gut. He bends forward, the air rushing out of his lungs. I slam the stock of my rifle across his head and he rolls to the ground, scrambling awkwardly for his weapon. I don’t mess around. This is life or death. I take my rifle, squeeze the trigger and land a close range shot to his chest. He’s so close to me that I actually feel a spray of hot blood splatter across my cheeks as he falls backwards, dead on the ground.

Sophia grabs my arm.

“I can’t find Alexander,” she says, covered in sweat. “I think he’s hurt.”

I meet her gaze.

“Are you serious?”

“Retreat!” Max yells. “Fall back! Rally point One!”

That’s just another way of saying, “We’re screwed. Run for your lives.”

But there’s nowhere to retreat. Omega’s got us surrounded. We’re closed in on all sides. The militiamen that have been pushed back to the supply depot are being caught in the land mines and IEDs set up by the Omega troopers. A few militiamen find themselves cornered against the warehouse. One sweep of an automatic weapon is all it takes to kill all of them in less than three seconds.

Just when I think things can’t get any worse, I’m blinded with white light. Sophia and I shield our faces, confused. What the heck is this? A UFO invasion? Are aliens finally taking over the planet?

I wouldn’t be surprised. Please, take it. There’s not much left.

My eyes adjust and I focus in on the source of the light. Floodlights. Omega is firing up their backup generators and powering floodlights on top of the depot, shooting the beams of light into the fields. Making it easier for them to pick us off. My heart sticks in my throat.

We really are dead.

But wait. I spot a familiar figure standing on the edge of the depot. A flash of dark hair. A tall, muscular frame. He’s kneeling on the ground. Alexander Ramos. He’s watching the proceedings as blood runs down the side of his neck. He’s wounded. Badly. I find myself moving towards him, stopping only to look back and make sure Chris and Sophia are still alive. They are, and they’re putting up a valiant fight, but a wall of Omega troopers are pushing our militia farther and farther back. There won’t be any escape once they reach that point.