Storm

TWENTY-SIX

The desert is beautiful at sunset.

It was our second journey through the wide-open desolation, and it was just as breathtaking as the first. As the sun dropped toward the distant mountain range, long shadows crept and grew over the desert floor. The colors changed from multiple shades of amber to deep orange to purple and ultimately to black.

Unlike our tense, quiet journey across country, this trip was full of nervous chatter. The fear of a black Retro jet suddenly appearing over the mountains on its way to blasting us to dust made it difficult to fully appreciate the glories of nature.

“I’m feeling good,” Kent declared. “We’re gonna get in fast, do what we have to do, and get out even faster. Hit and run. Shock and awe. I’m feelin’ it.”He was terrified.

“Where do we go afterward?” Tori asked. “We’re pretty much on our own.”

“I saw that there’s a resort on the California-Nevada border called Primm,” I offered. “It’s in the middle of nowhere.”

“Everywhere out here is the middle of nowhere,” Kent said sarcastically.

I ignored him. “I’m thinking we’ll find food and a place to sleep. From there we can head west toward the coast.”

“Whatever,” Kent said. “I’m more focused on the next two hours.”

The only person not talking was Olivia.

“You with us, Olivia?” I asked.

“Unfortunately,” she replied.

That was about as much of a vote of confidence as we could expect from her. At least she hadn’t completely checked out.

I held our speed to eighty-five for the entire time we were on the interstate. We didn’t want to catch up to the team ahead of us or lose ground to the team behind. The mission would succeed or fail based on how many of us could get through to the airbase. If the Retros smelled trouble, they would have a tough time targeting multiple, small targets. At least that was the theory.

“There it goes,” Olivia said, sounding wistful.

She was watching the sun disappear behind the distant ridge.

I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d ever see it again.

“We should be reaching our turnoff spot soon,” I said to Tori.

She checked the map for the four hundredth time.

“It’s coming up,” she announced.

We reached a fork in the highway and saw the sign that directed us to our next leg.

“Extraterrestrial Highway,” Kent read. “Classic.”

I made the turn without losing speed. Soon the road began to rise and twist as we crossed over a ridge.

“Won’t be long now,” I said. “Keep an eye out for a dirt road on our left.”

“It’s hard to tell where we are,” Tori complained. “How are we supposed to see a single-lane dirt road in the middle of—”

“There!” I announced.

If I hadn’t been looking hard, we would have missed it. It was an unmarked dirt road that led away from the highway and into the desert… toward Area 51. I made the turn and immediately had to slow way down because the road surface was uneven and gravelly.

“I think we’ve got about twenty miles of this,” Tori announced. “Then we look for the contact.”

Our contact was a member of the Paiute tribe. The Paiutes had escaped with relatively few casualties on the night of the attack. Seems as though the Retros mostly targeted population centers and didn’t spend as much time wiping out people who lived in remote villages. It gave me hope that there were many more such survivors scattered all over the country, and the world. Since the attack, the Paiute had been working with the survivors to scout the air base, help with security, and plan the counterattack.

“It’s almost dark,” Kent said. “How are we going to see this injun?”

“Seriously?” I scolded. “Injun?”

Kent shrugged. “Little slack, please. Tasteless comments are allowed when you’re putting your life on the line.”

I decided to let it go, as did everyone else.

The road was dead flat but led toward another ridge that was covered with scrubby trees and towering rock formations. Somewhere on that rise, our contact would be waiting.

We had traveled for nearly twenty minutes when Tori leaned forward.

“There he is,” she announced.

On the side of the road maybe a quarter of a mile ahead was a figure waving a flashlight. I slowed and soon pulled up to an elderly guy who was wearing a cowboy hat, blue work shirt, and jeans.

“Park behind those boulders,” the old man instructed.

His face was as deeply lined as the desert. I’d bet that if anybody knew his way around these parts, he and his fellow tribesmen did.

I drove across a stretch of dirt toward a pile of boulders that was fifty yards away. As we drove around to the far side, our headlights set upon our next mode of transportation: a couple of twoseater dune buggies.

“Awesome,” Kent said with relish.

“Swell,” Olivia moaned with dread.

“Leave your gear here,” I said after killing the engine. “Just take the charges. We’ll come back for everything afterward.”

The old man rounded the boulder pile as we got out of the Range Rover.

“The moon is full tonight,” he said. “Travel without headlights. Follow this same road for maybe ten miles. It will take you up through these hills and down to the other side. That’s where you’ll find it.”

“Have you been to the base?” I asked.

The old man looked at the distant hill as if lost in thought. It was an awkward moment. I wasn’t sure if he had heard me or understood what I asked.

“It’s heap-big trouble out there, right, Tonto?” Kent asked. I could have hit him.

The old man glared at Kent and said, “Watch your mouth, assbasket.”

“Whoa, sorry, man,” Kent said sheepishly. “No offense.”

“Yes, I’ve been there,” the man said. “For decades it was closed off. You couldn’t get to within a few miles before the military police came out of nowhere to stop you. After the attack, our cell phones went out, so a few of us went to the base looking for answers.”

He glared at Kent and added, “Yes, cell phones. We haven’t sent smoke signals for a couple of years now.”

Kent stared at his shoes.

The old man continued, “We weren’t stopped at the outer security perimeter or the main gate. We drove right into the base. What we found…”

His voice caught. It seemed as though he was trying to gather his thoughts. Or come to grips with what he had seen.

“What we found was the angel of death. Only there were hundreds of them, lined up in perfect rows, waiting to fly and spread their poison. The ones we approached were silent. No lights. No hum of engines. But we saw several come to life in the distance and take their turns taxiing to the runway and taking off to…”

He couldn’t finish the thought. It was too disturbing.

“There weren’t any people there at all?” Tori asked. “How is that possible?”

The old man shrugged.

“I don’t want to sound like some crazy Indian, but I swear it was like the place was being controlled by an unseen hand. These planes were being moved and manipulated like toys. Giant, deadly toys.”

“And nobody tried to stop you?” I asked.

“We never got close to any of the planes that were active. If we had, it might have been different. I know the plan your Chiefs have put together. Chiefs. I love that.”

I looked at Kent, who shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

“It can work, so long as you don’t come upon a plane that’s alive.”

“We know that,” I assured him. “We’ve already crossed paths with a few. They can see.”

“They cannot see,” the old man said sharply. “But they have eyes. They are merely the tools of someone who is not of this earth.”

“You mean, like… aliens?” Kent asked.

“I mean no one from this earth is capable of committing such wicked crimes against their own kind.”

Sobering words, and completely true.

“You must go quickly,” the old man said, suddenly all business. “Who will drive?”

“I’ll drive Olivia,” I said quickly. “Tori, you drive Kent.”

“I’m driving,” Kent said and sat down in the driver’s side of one of the buggies.

It didn’t matter to me who drove. I just didn’t want Kent and Olivia to suddenly disappear.

“I will wait here until you return,” the man said. “If you are not back by midnight, I will assume you will not be coming.”

“We’ll be back,” Kent said cockily. “Once you start hearing the booms, be ready.”

He fired up his buggy while Tori slid next to him and strapped on her safety belt. Olivia and I got into our vehicle and strapped in. The old man passed helmets to each of us.

“Once you reach the other side, you might consider leaving the road. It is wide-open space over there.”

“Thanks,” I said.

The old man reached out his hand and gave me a firm handshake. He tapped Olivia on the shoulder in a grandfatherly gesture.

“Any Indian blessing you can give us?” Kent called out.

“Sure,” the old man said. He raised his arms to the heavens and chanted, “Oh great god of the sky, look over these children and offer them protections so they do not get their asses shot off.”

He looked to Kent and added, “How’s that, Kemosabe?”

Kent gave him a thumbs-up.

With that, I started our engine. It was like being behind the wheel of the go-karts in Denver—times a hundred. These buggies had juice. We were fully encased by a roll bar, though I didn’t plan on doing any driving that might end in a roll.

Kent had said it best. Get in fast, get out even faster.

I hit the gas, spun the wheel, and the buggy lurched forward. I led the way, driving back for the dirt road and the hills beyond. The vehicles were so loud that there was no way we could talk without screaming. Just as well. Olivia wasn’t in the mood for conversation. She was curled up in her seat in the fetal position, hugging the roll bar. I was worried that when it came time for her to move on her own, she’d freeze. But there was nothing I could do about it, so I kept quietand focused on driving..

The old man was right. The moon was full, so the desert was lit up like daytime. Good news was that we didn’t have to use our headlights. Bad news was that it would be easier for us to be seen from the sky. Or the base.

The road gained elevation quickly as it snaked through the hills. A look back showed me that Kent and Tori weren’t following closely. Our tires were kicking up a lot of dust, and they had to hang back or choke on it.

We all had our small packs with the charges between our legs— a vulnerable place to hold explosives, to say the least. I had to keep reminding myself that there was no way they could go off. I envisioned Cutter on that stage dropping the charge and stomping on it. It helped to manage my panic.

We passed a few signs that were difficult to read because of our speed, but the bold headlines were clear enough. I caught the words “Restricted Area” and “No Trespassing.” That meant we were inside the first security boundary that had kept curious alien-seeking tourists away for decades. All it did was amp up my adrenalin.

After ten minutes of twisting, bouncing, and coughing through kicked-up dirt, we crested the ridge and got our first view of the desert floor beyond. I skidded to a stop and killed the engine. Kent drove up right next to us and stopped as well. It was going to take a few minutes to process what we were seeing.

I could understand why the military had chosen this place to test their planes. The desert floor stretched out in front of us for what looked like hundreds of miles in every direction. It was a dead-flat natural airfield surrounded by protective mountains.

Straight ahead, maybe thirty miles away, was the airbase known as Area 51. It was nestled at the base of a small ridge of mountains that loomed up behind it.

The base was lit. It had power.

The buildings were dark, but the lights on the ground outlined the runways. It looked like a medium-sized airport, complete with large hangars and many smaller buildings that could have been for maintenance, or manufacturing, or offices, or vaults to hide aliens, for all I knew. There was nothing about the physical base itself that seemed out of the ordinary.

The stunner was what we saw on the runways.

They were there. The black planes. Hundreds of them. Many hundreds. They were lined up, curved wing to curved wing, looking like a massive school of dark stingrays waiting to wipe out what was left of mankind.

“If we’re primates,” Tori said, stunned, “what are they?”

Olivia was whimpering. I didn’t blame her. The sight of these murderous planes was beyond disturbing. Knowing that they were preparing to set out on another killing spree to wipe out those they missed the first time around was almost too much to comprehend.

Almost.

Seeing these planes may have been sobering, but it also forced me to focus on the job at hand.

“We came here to fight back,” I said. “I never thought we’d make it this far, but here we are. We’ve got the chance to shut this place down, and I believe we’re going to do it.”

“Now you’re talking, commander,” Kent said and clapped me on the back.

“But for how long?” Tori asked. “Are these all the planes they have? Or can they just build more?”

“We aren’t the only survivors,” I said. “There are millions of others. Taking out these planes might buy time for a real counterattack. Who knows? Maybe it’ll come from SYLO. If we knock the Retros off-balance, it might give SYLO a chance to finish them off.”

“SYLO?” Kent said, surprised. “Since when did you start rooting for those jack wagons?”

“We think they were trying to protect Pemberwick Island, Kent,” Tori said.

“By trying to kill us?” Kent asked, incredulous.

I wasn’t about to tell them what Granger had said about one of my friends being an infiltrator.

I said, “All I know is that the planes from this base wiped out three-quarters of the world’s population. Who would you rather side with? Monsters who consider us to be worthless animals? Or the people trying to stop them?”

“I’ll side with the winner,” Olivia said sadly.

“All right,” I declared. “Then let’s win.”

“No!” Tori cried.

“No?” Kent asked, incredulous.

“Shut up!” Tori shouted. “Something’s in the air.”

We heard it before we saw it. It was a helicopter. The sound of the engine was unmistakable, and it was getting louder.

“Let’s go!” I shouted and ran for the dune buggy.

Kent and Tori jumped into theirs, and we all strapped in quickly.

“It has to be SYLO,” Tori called out. “The Retros don’t fly choppers.”

“Let’s hope they really are trying to protect us,” Kent shouted.

“Let’s hope they don’t lure out any Retros,” I called back.

“There!” Tori called out and pointed to the sky.

All we could see was a black shadow move across the star field, for the chopper had no lights. It was flying high—too high to spot us. I hoped. It drifted in from the direction we had come from and hovered directly over us.

I held my breath, for whatever good that would do.

All of our eyes were on the black shape. Even Olivia looked skyward.

The chopper hovered there for several seconds, then peeled off and flew back the way it had come.

“What if it saw us?” Kent asked nervously. “It could be going back to get more choppers.”

“Why?” Tori asked. “Why would they be worrying about us?”

“Seriously?” Kent said incredulously. “Did you forget how Granger tried to gun us down? I don’t care why he was doing it, he did it.”

I knew why he was doing it, but I kept quiet.

“If Kent’s right, we don’t want to be here,” I declared. “If not, we still don’t want to be here. We’ve got a job to do.”

“Then let’s roll,” Tori declared and popped on her helmet.

“When we hit the desert floor, we’ll go off-road,” I called to Kent. “We can travel next to each other to avoid the dust storm and then stop a few hundred yards from the closest plane. Make sense?”

“Yippee ki-yay!” Kent called.

We fired up our engines, and the sound of powerful motors once again filled the desert night. I hit the gas and launched forward, careening down the road that snaked its way from the ridge. It took only a few minutes before the road leveled out and we were back on the desert floor. Another huge sign was displayed next to the road that said, not too subtly, that we were in a restricted area and were subject to arrest. There was also a sign that said, “No photography.”

I yelled to Olivia, “Good thing we don’t have a camera or we’d really be in trouble!”

She didn’t find that funny.

Kent and Tori caught up, and Kent gave me a thumbs-up.

I motioned that I was headed off-road, and he nodded in understanding. I jammed my foot to the floor, turned the wheel, and rolled onto the dry, flat lakebed that would lead us to the infamous Area 51.

There was no way to know if we’d have success, or what that success would mean in the larger war. There was every reason to believe that we would never make it out of this place. Only one thing was certain: We were on the last leg of a journey that began on Pemberwick Island, brought us through the nightmare that our country had become, and found us knocking on the gates of hell.

What we would find once we got inside was anybody’s guess.