Overrun Read online

  When it did, he stuffed his large shoulders beneath the car and scurried towards its front to get a better look at their attackers. From beneath the shredded metal that had once covered the engine, he watched a small group break from the main body and creep towards them.

  He fought the terror that threatened to engulf his mind when he saw five automatic weapons aimed towards where they hid behind the car. He started to slide back when a soldier noticed his face against the ground and again opened fire.

  "We can't stay here!" Brandon screamed when Kirken had scurried free from beneath the tailpipe and pulled himself up next to him at the back of the car.

  Clutching it tightly in his fist, Kirken jabbed his own weapon around the car’s side and shot two soldiers who had just made their way to its shredded front. Keeping his head close to the cover offered by the back bumper, he scanned his eyes around the area for any others that might be closing in on their position.

  Behind him, Brandon wriggled away and began to pull and kick at pieces of decayed metal that covered a small opening in the street. More soldiers broke away from the main group when they saw the two fall in front of the car from Kirken’s return gunfire.

  Further down the street just before the horizon, hundreds more poured into the area. They marched forcefully down the center of the street kicking their way into storefronts and shredding metal with heavy barrages of weapons fire.

  Giant flames and black smoke reared into the sky consuming everything they walked past.

  Chapter 9

  Deanna Kirken finished sipping her coffee and sat back in her kitchen chair. She rubbed at the throbbing pain spearing through her head, the same pain that always came the days her ex-husband visited her children.

  She attributed the migraines partially to the ruthless arguments that were waged every time he came to the house. But mostly she blamed them on her sickest fears of what he said to her children when they were with him.

  She pushed her newspaper away to the center of the table and pondered how she would spend the day. Today, she didn’t feel the sorrow that almost always came the days she spent alone in the house that was slowly falling to the ground around her.

  She took one last sip and was about to stand when a loud "thump" made her look up. The shuffling sounds of footsteps across her rooftop cast an uneasy dread across her solemn yet peaceful mood.

  She walked to the window, pushed away the plastic curtains and stared out.

  Thick black material of hundreds of parachutes hung like bats from the decaying limbs of the few trees still standing in the neighborhood. They fluttered noiselessly in the hot breeze from where they hung in the trees and laid across the ground.

  Dark shapes of men darted quietly through the streets away from the house and towards the center of town.

  She saw a few of her neighbors coming out of their houses to see the sight. She noticed a few of them were lying unmoving across the ground.

  Chapter 10

  Brandon pulled the last of the grating from the sewer and began stuffing his large frame down the opening.

  Larger numbers of troops separated from the main group and steadily approached where they hid behind the car.

  Some spread out to the sidewalks on either side of the street. With weapons raised, they stepped carefully through the shadows of the storefront overhangs trying to locate the source of the opposing gunfire. Others rushed to save those injured from Kirken’s weapons fire.

  Brandon pulled his arms tightly against his chest and managed to wedge his frame through the small opening. When his head was all the way through, he dropped into the sewer shaft below.

  From behind the back end of the destroyed car, Kirken fired off five more rounds scattering the approaching soldiers from the street’s center.

  Mel ducked into the dirt away from the car and squirmed down the sewer opening after her brother.

  Before her body could slip completely through, a soldier ran from the front of the car and jabbed his arm through the opening after her. His fingers snagged her hard by her shirt and hair. Frantically, she tried to shake herself free. The soldier’s grip tightened. He reached with his other hand and snatched at her shoulder.

  Nearly all the way through the opening, she dangled from the soldier’s grasp and let loose a bloodcurdling scream. The force of her weight and the frantic thrashes of her body forced the soldier to set his weapon down to keep his hold. Mel reached up and clawed at the soldier’s exposed skin just beyond his gloved hands. Digging and scraping her nails across his arms and wrists, his grip finally released allowing her body to drop completely through.

  The soldier straightened up from where he reached into the small opening and dropped a handful of faded blonde curls into the dirt at his feet. Mel’s angry frightened shrieks echoed faintly from the tunnel below.

  The soldier quickly snatched up his weapon and turned around. By then Kirken was upon him.

  Kirken swung his arm hard and slammed the back end of his weapon into the soldier's nose snapping his head back and toppling him over into the dirt.

  Kirken scampered across his writhing body and dove through the sewer opening. His body dropped through the darkness and landed on his left arm with a loud crash. Fierce piercing pain seared in ragged jolts along his entire body. For a few seconds, the world around him faded to a throbbing black.

  After a length of time he didn’t know, he felt a light touch across his arm and opened his eyes. Petrified and silent, Mel stood in front of him and reached to him through the gloom.

  "C'mon, Daddy," she begged timidly.

  Kirken propped his back up against the wall and ripped his dark glasses from his face. In a few seconds, his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Turning his head wildly around, he stared up and down the length of the tunnel and overhead at the sewer opening while Mel helped him to his feet.

  Pain came again like lightning bolts through his arm causing him to stop and close his eyes. Mel held him beneath his shoulders to steady his weight.

  “Son of a bitch,” he breathed out weakly when it had finally passed. “Thank you.”

  Mel moved her hands from his shoulders and held him firmly by his uninjured arm while they stepped further down the tunnel away from the opening. He could hear her sobbing gently in the dark.

  Kirken looked again around the tunnel. Unlit walkway lights hung from the piping running over their heads. Rather than the stone or concrete that would normally line the bottom of a sewer, the ground beneath them was a solid rock tile. With an uneasy step, he walked away from the support of Mel's outstretched hands towards Brandon who was crouching to the ground further down the corridor.

  "I didn't think these existed," Kirken said stopping just behind Brandon's left shoulder.

  Rifle shots and rocket fire blasted through the air overhead and echoed through the smooth walls of the sewer tunnels.

  “They’ve always existed,” Brandon responded flatly. “Some people have always believed they wouldn’t get sick if they lived down here. They even continue to believe it when they drag their dead back up to bury them outside in the ground.”

  Brandon straightened up and walked away into the darkness. Holding his injured arm, Kirken silently watched him go.

  “Dad, what’s going on?" Mel asked. Her voice shook slightly.

  "I wish I knew," Kirken answered sullenly.

  They both jumped and looked back when a sudden burst of gunfire exploded into the sewer opening they had just come through. Another high-pitched scream came from Mel's mouth. Sparks splitting the blackness made her frightened crying eyes briefly visible in the dark.

  In a sickening rush, Kirken’s guilt came crashing overpoweringly back. It felt like heavy fingers squeezed at his throat punishing him for ever leaving her to live out here on the outside.

  "Over here," Brandon yelled from down a far corridor. "I think I found a way to a storage unit. They’re all over the place down here. We should be able to at least get some food. Hopefully some
water. And maybe find someone who knows what the hell is going on."

  "Go with him," Kirken said moving behind her and gently pushing her in the direction of Brandon's voice.

  “No, please no.” she breathed out softly. “Please don’t leave us. Not down here. Not in the dark.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Kirken said his stomach twisting into knots. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Please no,” she pleaded quietly again with tears running down her face.

  “I promise. Wait for me when you get there. Leave if it’s unsafe. But, I swear to God, Mel, I will come get you. I’ll be there to get you soon.”

  He then felt her hands reach for him in the blackness. Her breath came in short gasps while she hugged him tightly close.

  “Go,” he said softly into her ear while turning her around. “I promise I’ll be only a couple of minutes behind you.”

  Her shaking hands moved away from his chest. She sniffled in her tears and walked away from him into the tunnel’s murk.

  Kirken’s heart hammered loudly in his ears. His body was caked in sweat and his lungs wheezed and coughed. His medication was long overdue. His system was starting to experience the initial effects of unprotected solar exposure.

  "Brandon,” Kirken said loudly into the dark tunnel. “I'm going back up."

  He turned and walked back towards the thin line of light coming from the sewer opening. His voice echoed through the corridors.

  "Take Mel and get moving. I'm going to find out what the hell is going on and try to get word back."

  "Get word back to who?"

  Kirken was surprised that Brandon had followed him and stood so close to him in the gloom. The sound of weapons fire still exploded in the streets overhead.

  “Who do you think is going to care back there? And what do you think they’re really going to do?”

  “Just go,” Kirken said facing him quietly. “Take her and go. I’ll be close behind.”

  Without saying another word, Brandon turned and moved down the corridor pulling Mel after him.

  Kirken waited there in the darkness for another couple of minutes and reloaded his weapon. The faint clicks of the rounds fitting into its small chambers echoed eerily through the tunnel after them.

  He prayed they would all live to see each other again.

  When he had fully readied his weapon, he wedged his hands and feet wherever he could against the smooth surface of the curved wall and climbed slowly back up towards the sewer opening.

  Nearing the top, he carefully balanced his weight on a rusty pair of pipes lining the length of the corridor ceiling. He remained there for a moment and gazed out the opening letting his eyes adjust to the sudden appearance of the day's fading light.

  He took a deep breath and cautiously raised his head through.

  The gunfire tearing through the air had stopped. Soldiers were no longer visible in front of the storefronts or along the street. Hoping they had moved further on into the town, Kirken pulled his body slowly through the opening and rolled out onto the sandy ground.

  No longer wearing his protective glasses, the heat and air blasted across his eyes like someone had just ignited them on fire. At that moment, he couldn't imagine a more intense pain.

  He pulled his feet free of the opening and crawled towards the shredded metal of the car they had recently hidden beneath.

  When he was finally able to open his eyes, Kirken stared in horror at one of the storefronts across the street.

  A single soldier crouched in the shadows and had silently watched Kirken pull himself from the hole. He held an assault rifle across his shoulder leveled directly at Kirken’s face. Before Kirken could scramble behind the car, he opened fire.

  At the sudden burst of ammunition, additional soldiers came running from behind and inside many of the nearby buildings and storefronts.

  Kirken whirled back around and dove across the burning cracked pavement towards the broken sewer grate. The skin across his stomach scraped raw when his body skidded though.

  Dropping back down into the blackness, shrieks of fear and frustration bellowed from his lips. For the second time in the last hour, his frame crashed down heavily across the floor.

  Weapons fire chased after him kicking up shredded rock and yellow dirt. Either a rock or bullet ripped across the skin near his left eye. Kirken scurried for cover along the far wall. Through a sticky haze of blood, he turned his head and gazed back up towards the opening.

  He didn't look for long before the tip of an assault rifle jutted through. Spewing massive rounds of weapons fire, it lit the corridor like a lightning bolt through a moonless night.

  Kirken leapt to his feet and raced down the passage.

  Holding his weapon with one hand, the soldier wedged his legs and body through the opening and dropped down onto the underground floor.

  Kirken sprinted the length of the tunnel until he reached a turn. He then stopped and stood still in the darkness. Behind him, the soldier moved cautiously down the corridor in pursuit.

  Only a small beam of dim light from the distant sewer opening interrupted the gloom. While Kirken breathlessly watched, it disappeared and reappeared several times as the large shape of the approaching soldier moved back and forth in front of it.

  Kirken waited silently in the encompassing blackness not daring to breathe. With quick swipes of the back of his hand, he tried to clear away the dried blood that had caked around his eyes.

  The soldier quickly covered the short distance of the tunnel and soon was upon where Kirken hid at the darkened turn.

  Kirken reached slowly for the Sunszk hand weapon holstered at his hip. He stretched his finger across its trigger and tensed his body to leap. The surge of blood from his quickened heart pounded against his ears.

  The soldier walked until he was nearly upon him. And then to Kirken’s surprise, he continued slowly past. The back of his coat brushed softly against Kirken's cheek.

  The soldier took another two steps before Kirken jumped from where he crouched on the floor and smashed his weapon barrel against the back of his neck. The soldier dropped dazedly to his knees and let out a surprised angry scream.

  Kirken reached across his chin and ripped his helmet from his head. The soldier’s hands snatched upward and wrapped around Kirken’s throat. But before he could tighten his grip, Kirken slammed the back of his head against the side of the stone wall.

  The soldier shrieked in pain and swung a fist into the back of Kirken’s ear. Kirken grabbed him by the hair and threw his head again into the corridor wall.

  This time the soldier’s body fell still and toppled over into Kirken’s arms. Kirken lowered him to the ground by the shoulder straps of his weapon and dragged him back towards the fading light coming through the sewer opening.

  When he had hauled him close enough to the light where he could finally see, Kirken searched his gear. The soldier’s eyes were still open and stared out into the gloom.

  Kirken pulled the assault weapon from across his shoulders and retrieved a small pistol and some ammunition clips from a pack on his back. Rolling him over, Kirken pulled two more full clips from his pockets. He undid the pack from across his back and hauled it up across his own shoulders.

  Kirken looked down at the man lying dead at his feet. A sickening unease wrestled about his stomach and chest. He swirled his tongue around the inside of his cheek and spit a mouthful of blood on the ground at his side.

  The shock and fear that had engulfed him like a heavy suffocating sack when they first saw the soldiers out on the street was gone. In an instant he had missed, it had transformed into an unholy rage. It was this rage, not fear, that was starting to drive him now.

  His mind wrestled for control of his thoughts and tried to focus on the one important thing that mattered now. Finding his daughter and getting her out. Getting her out of the sewers. Out of the city. And to redeem himself for the great pain he had already caused her to suffer.

  Alone in
the dark with only the smell of newly opened wounds in the air, he vowed never to leave her again. Regardless of the cost or what it was he had to do.

  He dragged the soldier’s body away from the dimming light and dropped it in a heap around the corner of the passageway. He tightened the shoulder straps of the soldier’s gear across his back and turned down the corridor he had sent his stepchildren.

  The sounds of battle still waged in the streets overhead. Their chilling echoes followed him into the darkness as he walked deeper into the hellishness of what the city of his children had suddenly become.

  Chapter 11

  General Maxwell A. Tuttle sat in the large Vulture command room surrounded by more than a hundred holovid monitor screens.

  As Quadrant Four commander, he was one of four military leaders in charge of mission assignments and overall troop movements of the secretive Vulture squads and Plan Zero. Hoping his men didn’t focus on the morality issues the mission entailed any more than he did himself, he monitored the often-changing scenes in front of him and nervously tracked their movements.

  The assault helicopters carrying Vulture Unit 967 approached Section 15 of the "now-at-war theater". Section 15 encompassed more than five hundred square miles along the Pacific Ocean near the old city of Seattle, Washington.

  Tuttle was responsible for the defense of five scientific domes in this area including Science Dome 15 which housed the Beam Cannon Hardware.

  The hardware itself made the defense of SD15 a top nationwide priority. When he sat and thought about it, with this lifesaving technology under his protection, the fate of the world rested in the hands of him and his men. It was a thought he tried not to ponder for too long.

  Tuttle tried not to think about a lot of things and chose not to make himself aware of a lot more.

  Since the war began and the initiation of Plan Zero was underway, he refused to give or receive orders anywhere but inside the control room. Watching through the monitors kept him removed from what was happening. It kept him from realizing too much what he was doing and what he had already done.