Occupied Earth Page 32

  At the edge of her hearing, she could hear the bomb emit a low-pitched whine. Then, just before the roar of sound and flash of light enveloped them all, she raised her chin and added loudly so that every member of the Talon, that every Mahk-Ra in the universe could hear.

  “Her name was Evelyn.”

  JOHANNAS-RA HAD barely got Masstas-ra into the back of the Limo before his partner, Paul Harper, got in behind them and told the driver to get moving. Masstas seemed shaken but overall unharmed. Harper on the other hand had blood running down his face, a piece of shrapnel having clipped the side of his head.

  Moses on a pony,” said Harper, his head back against the car seat.

  JoHannas opened a compartment on his side of the car and pulled out a small first aid kit and passed it over to his partner.

  “You’re hurt,” he said.

  “I’ll live,” said Harper. He opened the kit and pulled out a mirror, some alcohol pads and bandages. He began to dab at the cut on his head. “Looks worse than it is. Head wounds bleed like crazy.”

  “Where are we headed?” said the driver.

  “What do you think?” said Harper. “Red Spear?”

  JoHannas thought about that. “I wouldn’t think they’d had time to recover from the last purge. Many of them are dead or in custody, and the word on the street is that the few that are loose are in deep hiding. Plus, this was brutal. It looks to me like there will be several human casualties along with Mahk-Ra and Re. The Red Spear usually try to keep collateral damage to a minimum.”

  “Can you guys give me a direction while you figure out whodunnit?” said the driver, a human in a suit.

  “Department of Freight and Transport,” blurted Harper.

  “I agree,” said JoHannas as he quickly checked his computer pad. “It is the most secure facility in the vicinity. Only 2.6 miles away.” His large fingers punched the pad’s touchscreen. Then he said to the driver. “I have uploaded the most direct route to your GPS.”

  “Got it,” said the driver and the car began to pick up speed.

  Harper turned back to JoHannas. “Let’s review possibilities. Possibly Red Spear, but it somehow feels too improvised, too ruthless, even for them. And it would make bigger headlines if they’d tried to destroy the actual ship. That would be more their style.”

  “I agree. Maybe a local gang. The Double Dragons, The Twisters maybe? Though I can’t think of a reason they’d want to bomb the ceremony… unless… I know several gang members worked on that cruiser and old rivalries between gangs run deep.”

  “There is someone else,” said Masstas-ra, speaking for the first time.

  “Someone else?” said JoHannas.

  “He’s been designated Hunter X. He has been targeting high level Mahk-Ra here on Earth for some time.”

  He’s Mahk-Ra?”

  “Human,” Masstas-ra answered. “He has a history with… he was a member of our, well I suppose the Earth equivalent would be your Special Forces.”

  “A human who fought side-by-side with an elite Mahk-Ra unit in the off world conflict?”

  The war hero’s face was ashen.

  “Why were we not informed of this threat?” asked JoHannas.

  “I’m like you,” said Masstas. “I do what I’m told by my superiors.”

  “They knew this might happen?”

  “It was one of three possibilities,” he said.

  “Then why wasn’t there extra security?” asked Johannas.

  “Yeah,” said Harper. “Why isn’t the Talon swinging in here like the fucking horsemen of the apocalypse?”

  Masstas-ra didn’t reply. Instead it was JoHannas who spoke up.

  “Because this was the least important of those possibilities,” he said. “But it was the most likely one to draw an attack.” He looked at Masstas with understanding. “Because of you. This Hunter X wants you, and the High Command sent you here to draw him away from the other targets.”

  “We’re the staked goat,” said Harper in realization.

  This didn’t sound right to JoHannas. No matter how important the other targets might have been, High Command would never risk the life of the greatest living hero of the Mahk-ra. His death would be devastating. There was something else. Something he was missing.

  It was while JoHannas was trying to make sense of the whole business that the grenade hit the skimmer in front of the limo and everything went to hell.

  A huge ball of fire erupted from the hood of the lead skimmer as the projectile exploded, dropping the vehicle to the ground and sending fire and shrapnel flying everywhere. The armored glass and paneling kept those inside the limo safe from those elements, but everyone was tossed about the inside of the car like dolls by the actual collision with the downed skimmer in front of them. At the same time, the trailing skimmer clipped the cabin of the limo, bursting the back window, as it tried in vain to rise over the Lincoln and avoid another crash. With its stabilizers damaged in the impact, the secondary skimmer flipped over and skidded into a parked car. Its machinery imploded and flames immediately erupted from the wreckage. Two dazed shock troopers crawled out.

  The back of the limo was a chaotic mass of twisted metal, broken glass and bloodied bodies. JoHannas was the first to regain his senses. Harper was unconscious, his head wound turning the freshly applied bandage a dark red. Masstas-ra was awake and doing his best to reorient himself to the surroundings. The driver was dead. There was a pervasive smell of gasoline in the air. Unlike the skimmers, the Limo still ran on fossil fuel… highly combustible fossil fuel.

  “We have to get out of this car,” said JoHannas. He began to push at the door to his left. It had been damaged by the crash and resisted his efforts. He turned to Masstas. “Help me get this open.”

  “He’ll be out there waiting for us,” said Masstas, not moving.

  “Then we’ll face him on open ground,” said JoHannas. “Better that then sitting here in this death trap, we need to get out. Now help me.”

  Reluctantly Maasta-ra climbed over to JoHannas and added his weight to the agent’s efforts. With a creaking of metal on metal the door slowly opened until it was wide enough for them get through. JoHannas turned back and grabbed Harper by the arm to pull him free of the wreckage.

  “Leave him,” said Maasta. “We have to get to a secure place where we can wait for help.”

  “I will not abandon my partner,” said JoHannas. “Would you abandon one of your own on the battlefield?”

  “He’s an Earther,” said the Mahk-Ra hero. “What are they to us?”

  “This ‘Earther’ is my partner,” said JoHannas. “I will not leave him.”

  With an air of exasperation Maasta reached over and grabbed Harper’s other arm and helped pull him from the car. The rain had started again and as they exited the car, it slapped into Harper’s face and he began to come around. With a groan his eyes fluttered open and focused on something happening outside the opposite window.

  “Help’s here,” he said.

  JoHannas followed Harper’s look in time to see a police cruiser barreling toward them at top speed. But as he watched he saw the driver dive and roll from the car, leaving the cruiser to roar toward them like a missile.

  “Move!” he said, speedily pulling Harper the rest of the way out of the car and dragging him away from the wrecked limo and the approaching police vehicle.

  The cruiser rammed the limo, the force of the impact lifting the old prewar vehicle up onto two wheels, almost tipping it over onto its side before settling back to rest on the hood of the police car. Smoke and steam rose from the cruiser’s engine. One of the shock troopers on the ground tried to raise his rifle but was immediately shot through the head by the supposed deputy. The other one bled out on the ground.

  JoHannas barely had time to register what had just happened as he was too busy trying to get himself, Masstas-ra and the still dazed Harper as far away from the pileup of cars as possible, when a black object a little bigger than a fist came skitte
ring across the hood of the now totaled limo. In the half-second it took for JoHannas to think “grenade” there was a blinding bang/flash of sound and light, followed immediately by darkness.

  The world came back to JoHannas in increments. First was light, his sunglasses had been knocked off his face and despite the cloud cover and the rain there was enough sunlight to be painful to his unprotected eyes. Next was his injuries, cuts and aches seemingly all over is body. And finally sound. He could hear, despite the roaring in his ears, the sound of someone yelling. Moving his head he squinted his eyes, trying to block out as much of the sunlight as he could. He could make out two figures, one on the ground hands outstretched before him, the other standing over him, a gun in his hand. JoHannas reached for his own weapon but found it missing from its holster. He rolled painfully over onto his stomach and began to inch toward the two figures, belly-crawling. There was a jagged, raw wound in his thigh and he couldn’t put weight on his leg.

  “I’m not him,” said the figure on the ground. JoHannas could tell by the voice it was Masstas-ra.

  “I see that. Where is he?” said the standing figure, taller than average for a human JoHannas noted. A plain, grim face atop a sharply defined body, he could tell this human was not one to waste time.

  “Dead,” said Masstas.

  “Bullshit!” Briefly he glanced toward JoHannas then the lead skimmer where the personnel in it were alive but trapped in the compacted metal.

  “No, I swear by Mother Ra.”

  Hunter X leaned in and pressed his gun to the fallen Mahk-Ra’s forehead. “When?” He said. “How?”

  “Five cycles. I don’t know particulars.”

  “And you’re a double?” He said, pushing the alien’s head back with the barrel of the gun to get a better look at his face. “Surgically altered.”

  “What you Earthers would call a doppelganger,” said JoHannas, putting the pieces together in his head. It made sense. He found his spare sunglasses in the side pocket of his coat and put them on. He shifted his head to look at what he now knew to be a faux Masstas-ra. “Because the great hero of the home-world, the legendary Masstas-ra must continue to live, continue to inspire...”

  “Forever,” said the imposter. “Forever the warrior supreme. Forever the leader.”

  “Forever the lie,” said Hunter X with disgust. “Even in death… the false hero.”

  Hunter X lowered his weapon. His shoulders sagged, the rain dripping down his face as he turned away from his downed target. In the distance, sirens could be heard. The Hunter stood, listening to the approaching back-up, his face one of tired resignation. For a moment, eyes flat like a bored copperhead, he turned back and regarded the terrified Masstas-ra and raised his gun. Then with a casual flick of his wrist, he holstered the weapon.

  “You keep playing hero, pretender. Let the mocks and their human boot lickers have their illusion. I have real warriors to kill.” He started away and called over his shoulder, “Take care of your partner, JoHannas-ra.”

  The alien agent watched as Hunter X jogged into a complex of apartment buildings across the road. Harper, who was awake now, was struggling to sit up. Rising shakily to his feet JoHannas limped over to his partner and sat down beside him.

  “We’re not dead,” said Harper.

  “Correct,” said JoHannas.

  “The Hunter?”

  “Gone.”

  “Masstas-ra?”

  JoHannas thought for a moment. “The great hero lives on. Apparently he will never die.”

  The rain beat down on the two agents.

  Harper shivered. “That sounds deep. I’m going to let you explain that to me later,” he said. “Right now I just hurt too much. It’s my birthday you know.”

  “Yes,” said JoHannas. “I am aware.”

  They watched as the first of the emergency vehicles came racing around the corner and down the street toward them.

  “I was kinda hoping there would be cake. Candles.”

  “I am willing to sing.”

  “Please,” said Harper. “My head hurts enough as it is.”

  “A legend died today,” said JoHannas. “But he, like other legendary heroes of old, will rise from that death and continue on… and on and on.”

  “Ooookay.” said Harper. “Just how badly were you banged up in that car today? Look, don’t be offended, but if the Talon don’t execute us in the next few hours, and we actually get to go to a hospital? I’m gonna ask for a private room.”

  “Understandable,” said JoHannas. “Understandable.”

  And the rain fell from the sky washing away the day.

  Cliff Allen has spent the majority of his life living and working in California’s great Central Valley. He has had an interest in science and technology for as long as he can remember, and enjoys nothing better than sitting down with a good science text and learning something new. Cliff is a lifelong fan of the space program, and that has led to an avid interest in science fiction as a literary form. He is proud to have his short story “Strange Alliance” included in Occupied Earth.

  Craig Faustus Buck is an LA-based writer for both print and screen. Among his dozens of television credits, including Magnum, P.I. and Simon & Simon, he was one of the writers on the seminal miniseries V: The Final Battle. His short story “Dead End,” was a 2014 Anthony Award nominee. His novella, Psycho Logic was published by Stark Raving Press that same year. His first novel, Go Down Hard, was published by Brash Books this year and was First Runner Up for Killer Nashville’s Claymore Award. Among his nonfiction books, two were #1 NYT bestsellers. He wrote the Oscar-nominated short film Overnight Sensation. His indie feature, Smuggling for Gandhi, is slated for production in the fall. He is President of Mystery Writers of America SoCal chapter, a member of the board of Sisters in Crime LA, and an active member of the Writers Guild of America and International Thriller Writers. He is also an unheralded pitmaster.

  Matthew Clemens is a long-time co-conspirator with Max Allan Collins, the pair have collaborated on over twenty novels – including CSI and Criminal Minds TV tie-in books, more than fifteen short stories, several comic books, four graphic novels, a computer game, and a dozen mystery jigsaw puzzles. Their latest Thomas & Mercer thriller Supreme Justice, was published last year.

  Hailing from Brooklyn, Adam Lance Garcia was raised on comic books, movie serials, and lightsabers. Best known for his Green Lama: Legacy series and his original graphic novel, Sons of Fire, Adam writes for a number of publishers, including Moonstone Books and Pro Se Productions, as well as working as a full-time television producer and a part-time screenwriter. Learn more at adamlancegarcia.com.

  Howard Hendrix is the award-winning author of six novels (four from Ace Books, two from Del Rey), four short story collections, three book length works of nonfiction, many short stories, poems, reviews and essays published in a wide variety of venues. He also writes guest editorials for Analog Magazine, and has taught at the college level far longer than most of his students have been alive.

  Rachel Howzell Hall is the author of the critically-acclaimed mystery series featuring LAPD Homicide Detective Elouise Norton, who debuted in Land of Shadows (Forge). The second novel Skies of Ash, was published in May 2015, and the third in the series, Trail of Echoes, will be published in May 2016. Rachel, a Los Angeles native, is currently a writer for City of Hope, a national leader in cancer research and treatment.

  David Hall is the Design Director for the digital arm of the Oprah Winfrey Network (OWN). This is his first story collaboration with his wife writer Rachel Howzell Hall. David was born and raised in Los Angeles. A lover of science-fiction, he awaits their next project.

  Rob Hart is the author of The Last Safe Place: A Zombie Novella. His short stories have appeared in Shotgun Honey, Crime Factory, Thuglit, Needle, Joyland, Kwik Krimes, and Helix Literary Magazine. His debut novel, New Yorked, is available from Polis Books. The sequel, City of Rose, will be released in 2016. Previously, he has been a political reporter, th
e communications director for a politician, and a commissioner for the City of New York. Visit his website at www.robwhart.com.

  Richard M. Johnson is a screenwriter, copywriter, playwright, and poet. His short stories can be found in several anthologies, including Meeting Across the River, The Story Salon’s Big Book of Stories, and 6S, volume 3. He is also a performer and photographer and uses both avocations as excuses to occasionally get out of the house and into the sun. And it’s always a treat to try and google his name, because there are somewhere near eight-million “Richard Johnson’s” on the internet.

  Jessica Kaye is a partner at Kaye & Mills (www.kayemills.com), a law firm specializing in publishing and entertainment. She is an audiobook producer of hundreds of audiobooks, more than a few of which have been nominated for Grammy Awards. She is the founder and owner of Big Happy Family, LLC (www.bighappyfamilyaudio.com), a digital distributor of audiobooks and ebooks. Jessica created and co-edited the anthology Meeting Across the River (Bloomsbury, 2005).

  Adam Korenman has been dabbling in writing for most of his life, but only recently began spilling the crazy thoughts down on paper. He is the author of When the Stars Fade, the first book in The Gray Wars heptology, coming soon from California Cold Blood—a Rare Bird imprint. He is an editor for CC2KOnline, the nexus of pop culture fandom, and runs a weekly column for the Video Game section. Adam is a Captain with the Army National Guard, serving with a company of tankers in California. He currently lives in Los Angeles with his wife, and is always happy to take the other half of a sandwich off your hands.

  Lisa Morton is a screenwriter, author of non-fiction books, Bram Stoker Award-winning prose writer, and Halloween expert whose work was described by the American Library Association’s Readers’ Advisory Guide to Horror as “consistently dark, unsettling, and frightening.” In 2014 she released the novels Netherworld and Zombie Apocalypse!: Washington Deceased, and 2015 will see publication of Ghosts: A Haunted History and a short story collection from Cemetery Dance. Lisa currently serves as President of the Horror Writers Association (www.horror.org), and lives in North Hollywood, California. She can be found online at www.lisamorton.com.