A. Colucci - The Colony

“You’re welcome,” answered Russo, looking down at the twisted body of Colonel Garrett on the pavement five stories below. “Now let’s get the hell out of here!”

He helped Paul to his feet, and he started for the chopper.

“Wait.” Paul took a few painful steps, then reached down and picked up the specimen jar. The queen was in three pieces and he handed the bottle to Russo. “I think we can study her, prevent this from happening again.”

“Is that right?” There was a sudden twinkle in the mayor’s eye.

Paul shouted, “Did you reach the president?”

Russo shook his head vigorously. “The phone line was cut. We can only hope the general got word in time—now let’s haul it.”

“I’m going back for Kendra.”

“Get inside, Paul. Those bombs could drop in minutes.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Three members of a Special Forces unit spilled out of the helicopter cabin with guns drawn. One of them charged toward the two men. Paul started for the hatch but the soldier was already upon them.

“Freeze!” he yelled, the barrel pointed at Russo’s head. “Drop your gun.”

The mayor let his gun fall and raised his hands. “Settle down, soldier.”

“You just shot Colonel Garrett.” His rifle shifted between Russo and Paul as he tried to decide in his next move. Obviously, this wasn’t the situation he expected. He turned to the Blackhawk, where the rest of the crew were pacing with keen eyes on him, hands ready on their weapons.

“Where’s General Dawson?” the soldier asked.

“Dead,” Russo told him. “Garrett shot him.”

The soldier raised his rifle with an expression of renewed alarm. He looked at Paul, who nodded affirmatively.

Mayor Russo yelled at the man with urgency, “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did they call off the bombing?”

“I don’t know about any bombs, sir. Now please get inside the helicopter.”

“Don’t you understand? They are going to drop nuclear bombs on this city! The president has no idea there’s another solution. If you just—”

“My orders are to pick up the last of the civilians on this roof.”

“There are people inside the bunker.”

“I can’t do anything about that, sir. We have direct orders to leave this site by eighteen hundred—that’s now!”

A heated voice screeched from the radio receiver on the soldier’s collar, “What’s happening, Sanchez? We are way behind schedule. Return at once!”

Paul could see it was another soldier, talking into his lapel.

In a bold move, the mayor charged Sanchez, grabbing at the receiver. “Listen to me—”

Russo was knocked to his knees by a blow from a rifle. “I’m placing you under arrest for compromising a mission of national security, and killing an officer of the United States Army. Now both of you—move!”

As the soldier pulled the mayor to his feet, Paul took off across the roof toward the hatch.

“Hey!” the soldier yelled.

“Paul!” the mayor called as he was dragged to the Blackhawk, but Paul was already out of earshot. Seconds later, the Blackhawk took off at full speed and banked toward the horizon, as night fell over the city.

PAUL HAD BARELY DESCENDED twenty feet down the ladder when he heard someone struggling on the way up. He shouted, “Kendra, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me!” she cried with relief and exhaustion. “The ants invaded the bunker. Go up, Paul!”

He reached the roof and helped Kendra out of the hole, both locking into a tight embrace. She was covered in sweat, he was covered in blood.

“Thank God, you’re all right,” he said.

“Your face.” She touched his swollen, bloody cheek.

“Yeah, well,” he said faintly, “you should see the other guy.” He glanced anxiously at the open hatch. “Where’s Jeremy?”

Kendra shook her head. “He was supposed to meet me on the roof.”

They both scanned the empty blacktop in silence. Neither wanted to think the worst, opting instead to imagine Jeremy had escaped the ants in classic superhero fashion.

Kendra forced her attention to the bright speck of helicopter steady on the horizon. Its lights blinked off and she frowned. “You should have left without me.”

“No chance.” He put his arms around her shoulders. “You’re shaking.”

Kendra grasped his arm with more bad news. “I saw General Dawson. The phone line was cut.”

He nodded. “It’s out of our hands. Right now the mayor’s on that helicopter, hopefully convincing someone—”

There was a flash of light and a thunderous boom out toward the sea. Military planes were streaming over the horizon, headed toward lower Manhattan. The engines roared and Paul counted three in quick succession.

The first plane drew close to the UN, passing over the river, and stopped. It seemed to hover for a moment and then banked sharply to the right. Then a whirling sound echoed over the city as the plane took off like a bullet. Seconds later, a deafening explosion erupted from the ground where the plane dropped its load. Kendra closed her eyes and covered her ears from the burst.

Paul watched in horror as the lights from the Williamsburg Bridge flickered off and a huge piece of the enormous steel structure fell into the river. The sky came alive with more aircraft, and there were more eruptions and more sounds of collapse. Kendra huddled close to Paul and breathed into his neck, wanting to drown out the booms.

After a dozen massive explosions, the bridges and tunnels were gone and now they were truly an island. What would come next, they didn’t want to think about.

Paul and Kendra stood alone on the roof, holding hands, as a gentle wind blew across the buildings. The smell of smoke filled the air, but the planes were gone and the city was once again deathly still. Above the smoke, the sky was transforming from a deep blue in the west to the deepest black in the east, a vast number of bright stars poking through the canvas.

Paul’s voice was worried. “Do you hear them? They’re coming back.”

Kendra snapped out of her trance. Yes, she heard them. It wasn’t the planes returning but the ants. The roof was suddenly swarming with Siafu Moto. They raced up the sides of the buildings and across the blacktop.

“Where do we go?” Kendra cried, turning in circles.

“I don’t know,” Paul answered.

They backed away from one side of the building, but ants were swarming from every direction. They poured from the bunker’s open hatch like an erupting volcano. The entrance to the UN was blanketed by the colony, and the sea of ants began to take shape across the roof, a wide circle surrounding the scientists.

Kendra stumbled against Paul.

“Stay with me,” he told her, and they clutched each other, turning with the colony, looking for a path out of this. There was none, and for the second time that day, the two scientists braced for an onslaught.

Instead, the air around them turned fuzzy gray. Kendra felt the fluttering of a thousand wings, like gnats in her face. But it wasn’t gnats, it was ants.

The flight of the alates.

Kendra realized in one terrifying moment that time had run out; they would never stop the swarm. The winged virgin queens were taking off with the males in their nuptial dance.

She tried to speak but they flitted around her mouth and she wiped them from her lips. Paul was madly swatting his face.

At that moment, a sonic boom shook the building. Kendra jolted backward, searching the sky, while Paul reflexively ducked his head. Another sonic boom and the stealthy body of an F-22 Raptor cut through the heavens and hovered in the air like a snapshot.