“What the heck am I doing?” Cassie asked herself aloud as she rounded the sidewalk corner. Ahead of her awaited the entrance ramp into the parking gate, where Dan and Scout were stranded on it’s uppermost level. As she ran, the distinct humming sound of the Culicidae spacecraft was growing louder and deeper in tone as the ship grew closer. Ducking underneath the wooden gate arm and into the concrete death-trap, she saw it: through the open space between levels, the massive bulk of the alien ship lowered into view as it settled onto the opposite street. The black hull dully reflected the green glow of thrusters until the light winked out entirely, hissing as panels on it’s surface slid and unfolded into landing pads and boarding ramps.
Fear froze Cassie in her spot, leaving her paralyzed as she watched a squad of aliens rush down to the street, their armored feet clanging as they stomped. From head to toe, silver mechanical battle suits covered every inch of their bodies except for their faces. While Cassie had never seen them in person, she knew that huge, bug-like eyes were peering through those black visors, mandibles were chattering over radio signals between the troops, and a hungry proboscis waited to feed.
Shivers swept through her limbs. She shook the feeling off and ducked behind a car. As the creatures swept the street and began to make their way into the parking garage, she regretted ever having stepped into the building. Now that she was here, her mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan. There was no way she could take out such a large group of invaders. Even with Dan’s help, she had her doubts. Swallowing her fear, she knew what she had to do.
Rising slowly, she rested the fore grip of her rifle on the blue car hood and took aim. Looking through the scope showed her just how much she was shaking. Holding in a deep breath, her involuntary movements stilled as the crosshairs settled into place. With a quiet sigh, she pulled the trigger. The gun snapped in her hands. The visor cracked, a pea-sized hole exposing the alien to it’s biggest threat: Earth’s toxic atmosphere.
The alien dropped its gun and clawed at its helmet, a hushed screech emanating from inside the suit. It turned away from the others, doubling over in pain, but remaining on its feet. The shot from such a small rifle wasn’t enough to kill them outright, especially after having to punch through whatever glass or plastic-like material protected their faces, but enough to damage an eye and break the air-tight seal of the suit. And in a place that echoed like a parking garage, the source of the sound of her gunshot would be nearly untraceable.
Relief washed over her when the alien she hit was taken up by two others, who rushed the wounded Culicidae back into the safety of their ship. The others stepped into the garage and spread out between the cars, footsteps thudding against the concrete as they feverishly began their search for her. Staying low, she took aim once more, but just as the crosshairs fell on the target that was facing her, the creature paused in place, then pointed a curled finger at her. Quickly, she fired, jerking the trigger and missing entirely.
A green bolt flew towards her, falling just short and slamming into the car hood. Pulsing green light bloomed for a fraction of a second, melting and disintegrating a circular chunk out of the metal and exposing the remaining half of the engine.
She cursed and ripped herself away from her perch, only to stumble and fall onto her backside. Frantically, she cycled the bolt of her gun, then realized how useless it now was. The black barrel ended like a melted rod, welded shut and six inches shorter than it was before. The disintegration blast had disabled her only weapon, but she tried to keep her calm and remind herself that taking them all out wasn’t the goal. Getting their attention was, and now she had it.
With a surge, she rose and raced back towards the entrance she had come in through, pausing only briefly behind cover to confuse the creatures and throw off the timing of their shooting. Her shoes clomped through the garage. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Keeping vehicles between her and the attackers, their pop-shots whizzed around her harmlessly for the moment, but eventually they would get lucky.
Bile rose in her belly as she looked out over the open space she had to traverse if there was any hope of leading the Culicidae away from the parking garage. With a prayer, she charged, dashing out from behind the safety of an SUV towards the wooden gate arm once more. A bolt screeched as it tore past her head, not making a direct impact and triggering it to explode but close enough she could smell singed hair. She ducked, serpentined left and right as the exit grew closer. The metal base of the gate arm melted in a ball of green light, leaving the wooden beam clattering to the concrete. Another slammed just a foot behind her, the heat of it washing over her back.
There was no time to think or to even be afraid, just move. Black dust underfoot, she crossed the threshold and ducked to safety around the corner. Cassie tripped and planted her hands and knees on the sidewalk, chest heaving. The instinctual urge to survive told her to get up and carry on just as much her mind said it was best to stay behind cover. Her head throbbed as her heart raced. Exhausted, she thought, I just need a moment.
That moment came and went in a matter of seconds, and maybe even such a short time was too long. She pushed to her feet begrudgingly, peered over the barrier for a split second then ducked again. Already, the aliens were not even twenty yards behind her, armored feet pounding as they vaulted vaulted over vehicles and landed with a concrete-cracking thud. This was not the end, she knew. It couldn’t be. Her mission was not over yet.
Standing upright, she waved her arms above her head. “Come get me, you blood-sucking freaks!” Cassie ducked before they could get another shot off, dashed along the concrete barrier as quickly as she could while hunched over. There was no way she could survive out in the open, so she set her sights on a shop across the street, hoping with every bone in her body that North Georgia Advertising Company has a basement.
Down onto the road, and back up onto the sidewalk, she ran. The screeching slam of a green bolt exploded just to her left, hitting the window. Tossing herself to the side, she hit the concrete, just barely outside the disintegration radius. Daring a glance back, she saw two of the aliens had leapt over out of the parking garage and onto the street. Their guns hummed as the green energy inside powered up, casting their silver metal suits in it’s glow.
Not bothering with the door, she leapt over the circular crater in the sidewalk and through the window, breaking off chunks of glass with her passage. With a roll, she found her footing as two bolts flew wildly into the shop behind her, turning desks and monitors into thin air and sending burning paperwork fluttering.
A single red doorway sat at the back of the office. She sprinted for it, turned the knob as she slammed her shoulder into it. A stairway down was waiting for her right on the other side, the darkness below threatening to swallow her whole. Forward momentum keeping her moving and she cursed, knowing she was about to go for a fall. Try as she might to hold onto the handle and slow herself, her grip on the brass knob slipped and she failed to find solid footing. Rotating at the last moment, she flew over the first six steps and crashed into the hard edges of the wooden steps. Her arm vibrated with pain. Sliding down with an uneasy grip on the practically useless gun, she was unable to right herself until she was nearly at the bottom.
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From a side-pouch of her backpack, she produced a small flashlight and gave it a few shakes to charge it. Cassie was surrounded by metal file cabinets, musty white boxes, and excess chairs. It was dark, and most importantly quiet. Shuffling her way to the back, she tried to ease the discomfort of her arm by rolling her shoulder and found an empty corner. Quickly, she rearranged a stack of filing boxes and crouched low behind them.
There was a crash on the floor above her, the clatter of broken glass. Heavy footsteps shook the ceiling. There were two pairs, as far as she could discern, probably more. Cassie could see the stairway from her hiding place, the beam of sunlight shining through the open door above. She wished she wouldn’t have fallen and had the time to close it behind her. Anyone with half a brain would know that she ran into the basement.
Even though she had followed the rules and all of her training, she did not feel safe at all. Her heart fluttered. Even if her gun was more than just a heavy club, she doubted she would feel any more secure. Now the only thing that protected her from death or capture and worse was a flight of wooden stairs. The clunking footsteps were growing louder. And there was another sound, something rustling and moving around in the darkness just behind the steps, too low in position to be coming from the floor above.
A rat? Cassie wondered. Oh, please stay quiet.
A pair of armored feet stopped at the doorway, the silver metal shimmering in the light. The alien shifted it’s weight a few times as it considered the stairs. It began to click and converse with its companions, certainly deciding if the risk was worth the reward. A moment passed before she realized how loud her breathing was. She held it in, hoping against hope that the Culicidae would turn around and leave rather than try to trek down the steps.
If there was one thing she should have known, it is that luck was not on her side that day. Dread filled Cassie as a silver-plated foot descended onto the first step. Careful to spread its weight, the other foot appeared on the second step. The wood flexed several inches underneath the alien, creaking and groaning. There was no way she could stay hidden in the basement. This would be the end, but she would not go quietly.
Flipping around the gun in her hands, she prepared to use the stock to beat on them. Her skin grew wet and slippery as the creature reached the half-way point, it’s torso becoming clear. It took another step. The wood cracked underneath its foot. With a screech of fright, the alien fell through the steps with a ruckus of snapping boards and desperate scrambling to catch itself. It landed on the concrete floor below with a resounding thud, then the mechanical suit whirred as it broke itself free of its wooden trap with little effort, snapping boards with a flick of the wrist.
Standing between files and boxes, there was a single click and a cone of light shot out from its helmet. Cassie watched the circle of light sweep across the room as the Culicidae took in its surroundings. She debated trying to get the jump on it, but decided she would hold out until it was certain she would be found. When the second alien began its descent down the stairs, she was glad she didn’t.
The sound of quick, padded feet filled the basement. Like tennis shoes. The first creature screeched, alerted by something, then jolted sideways as a resounding thud came from that direction. It was too dark to see what was happening, then the flashlight spun, racing across the room until it settled on a man wielding a lead pipe like a sword. He was wearing a brown leather duster, open across his chest to reveal a mechanic’s blue jumpsuit underneath. A red beanie cap and gas mask concealed his head, while a gray scarf was wrapped around his neck. While Cassie couldn’t tell for certain, she assumed the stranger was a man, based on his height and the bulky size of his shoulders.
The alien screeched as it raised its gun, glowing green as it prepared to fire. The stranger ducked and moved faster than Cassie had ever seen. He closed the distance and smashed the pipe on the side of the alien’s knee. The suit hummed loudly. Sparks flew and skittered across the ground as the leg gave out.
A green bolt dashed through the basement, illuminating the room before crashing into the ceiling and eating away at a support beam. A desk fell through, dust and sunlight filling the air. The stranger reared the pipe above his head with both gloved hands, then brought it down with a growl. Cassie could hear the cracking glass of a broken visor, then saw that the pipe was now bent under the force of the blow.
The alien clutched at its helmet, screeching as it clawed. One hard jab with the end of the pipe silenced the creature. Cassie gasped. She’d never seen or heard of someone being able to take an invader out with anything but a gun, car, or explosives.
The stranger twirled, the flaps of his duster floating away from his legs as he turned to face the second alien at the base of the steps. Seeing its deceased partner, the alien prepared to fire at him, but with a flick of his wrist, the pipe flew across the room and knocked the glowing barrel to the side. The gun went off, creating a crater in the wall and a passage into the basement of the next building over.
Scrambling, the stranger dove behind the remnants of the stairs until he grabbed the disintegration rifle of his already fallen enemy. Rolling onto his back, he aimed and fired, reducing the alien’s armor to ash and melted metal. It was over so fast that the creature didn’t even cry out in pain.
Silence took command of the room and Cassie noticed her panting again. The stranger just lay there for a moment, listening for the clomp of armored boots. A minute passed and none came. She wanted to believe the danger was gone, but who was this man to take out two Culicidae so quickly? And was he a threat to her, too?
With a low grumble, the stranger rose to his feet then turned towards the corner she hid in. He stood there for a moment, half shrouded in darkness and standing there ominously. He must have been the source of the rustling sound she had heard when she first entered the basement, she knew, and it was clear that the stranger knew she was there when he began to approach her.
His feet padded against the floor as he weaved his way closer, silhouette growing larger and more oppressive with every step. The sunlight gleamed against a metal ring around the lenses of his gas mask. A part of Cassie was afraid of him, she stayed crouched behind her boxes, unsure of what to do or say.
He stopped a foot from her, looking down at her from behind the anonymity of his mask, his eyes hidden behind dark tint. They just stared at each other for a moment, the both of them breathing heavily, and then he extended a hand without a word. This close to him, she realized how badly he smelled, but that didn’t matter. While she could not consider him a friend, it was clear he was not a threat.
Hesitantly, Cassie grabbed ahold of his forearm and pulled herself to her feet. The stranger was a good extra third her size. Tall and thick by any standard. Her voice croaking, she said, “Th-Thank you for your help, sir. I would have been dead if it wasn’t for you. I hope your not mad at me for drawing them in here, I didn’t know you were hiding down here.”
The man did not answer, and she gave him plenty of time to respond. He just stood there, looking down at her with the smothering, unblinking stare of his mask. Cassie had to look away, nervous. Cautiously, she squeezed between the stack of boxes and the filing cabinet, uncomfortable being trapped in a corner by the man. He didn’t try to stop her as she moved towards the steps.
What is with him? Cassie wondered.
She placed a foot on the first step, then paused and glanced back at the stranger. He was still standing where she left him, completely silent. With a furrowed brow, she asked, “Can you not speak?”
Again, he was silent.
Cassie sighed, placed her gun down and re-did her ponytail as she thought. Picking it back up again, she said, “Well, I’m off, then. There’s a couple friends of mine out there I have to find. I could really use your help, if you want. We can take you to our camp as thanks. I think you’ve earned it, saving my life like that.”
The stranger moved that time. She wasn’t sure if it was because he understood her words or her body language was clear enough to signal that she was leaving. Walking up to her, he rolled the alien gun over in his hands, examining it, then pressed a button that made a chirping sound before throwing the strap over his shoulder. Right behind her, he crossed his arms and stopped, looking up at her like he was waiting for her.
“You really are the silent type, aren’t you?” Cassie asked. Of course, he said nothing, and she smiled. “I’m going to call you Silent Bob, because you’re so quiet. No, wait, I got it. I’ll call you Mr. Bean. If you don’t like it, you better speak up.” She laughed aloud to herself. “All right, then. It’s settled. Nice to meet you, but I don’t have time to stand here and chat, so let’s get moving, Bean.”