Month number five since the invasion…
Mankind is still holding their ground against the alien threat despite the increasing numbers of assailants and their incessant attacks. A new form of sport and entertainment has emerged from the alien onslaught which consists of different activities such as active hunting, executions and even gladiatorial fights, mainly broadcasted on the Internet by different services and dedicated websites to thrill the people or to make wagers. The hobbies are performed by anyone capable and resourceful enough, ranging from lone wolves to large private clubs with extensive influence and money, it has opened a new brand and obscure market…
***
Meanwhile, in Phrixus’s hideout, Valeria is reading a popular topic on her laptop…
“Red Yard Guild is hosting a streaming event on the Internet where two superhumans face a pair of Surmas and Tauferum in an arena-like pit, the minimum bet is one hundred USD. Despite being illegal they have been transmitting many shows like that with complete discretion and no censure, to top it all they have international support, I can’t believe Phrixus scored this one…” says Valeria.
“The entertainment industry is always one step ahead of everything...” says Roberth.
She reads another topic, which has an amateurish redaction. “Watch how a caged Surma is killed with a large nail bomb in front of its ugly face!” She pauses briefly. “Talk about nothing else to do…”
“Sounds like something Phrixus would do… Where is he?”
“He said he’d arrive shortly.”
***
1 hour, 37 minutes earlier…
“…He already knows I’ve sent you, expect him near the coast on the southwest of Cabimas.” An unknown associate of Phrixus says via phone.
Hanging up, he heads to the meeting point to find his contact. After driving his van for half an hour he parks in a nearby lot and travels on foot to the woods. From the distance, he spots a Spynehog minding its business. In just one second it receives a hit to its head, a crossbow bolt just lobotomized the unfortunate prey. It dies on the spot, and from the foliage a man dressed in a hunter and scavenger outfit emerges. He puts the crossbow on his back using a shoulder strap and approaches the dead game. This man should be the contact Phrixus is expecting, and it doesn’t take long for him to make a “come closer” gesture with a bolt while he inspects the Spynehog. As Phrixus walks toward him he removes the stuck arrow protruding from the other side of the beast’s head and stores it in the quiver at his hip, then he pulls out a cigarette and promptly lights it.
“If you are looking to buy quarry you’ll have to wait for the next hunting trip, this one already has a buyer on it… Rafael’s the name. You are prepared, I take it?” the man says.
“As always, let’s get this done.”
“Follow me to my ride.” Tying up a leather rope on a hind leg of the dead Spynehog he hauls the creature while they walk to the vehicle. Not far away, they find a pickup truck whose cargo compartment is filled with alien bodies. After placing his recent prey with the rest of the game, they get inside and head out.
“So… how’s the hunt going?” says Phrixus.
“Good as usual, there always some stray alien critter in the wilds waiting to be reaped, this business can get you a fair coin if you know what you are selling,” says Rafael.
“What do people do with dead Apophlings?”
“Depends on the creature, the horns of a Tauferum have a good value and they are used mainly for carving, like ivory, the same goes for Surma spikes but they are more common thus they are cheap. Pseudowasp’s scythes are sought by many artisans as well as some weaponsmiths. Tricephalus are walking sacks of gold, their tusks and horn are worth its weight, if you have the firepower to bring one down of course, then you have the bones, teeth, claws, and hides for starters, and…” He pauses for a bit and gives a faint smirk, “check The Surma Stalker website and you’ll find it out.”
“Noted, sounds like that kind of business could deter poaching worldwide… what’s the job about?”
“Retrieving unstable and dangerous materials to be used against the alien beasts…”
There is a moment of silence between both men, then Rafael speaks again. “I was hoping you’d believe it, just some trinkets and conventional data media, it forms part of the business I’m involved in, but I have been notified that the cache has an unwanted visitor inside. They say it is a Mi-Go, but that one is bigger, meaner and stronger than his siblings. The alien rock may have given me powers but that thing is something else I can’t handle.” He shows him a large scar on his neck, traveling down to the shoulder. “I learned it the hard way.”
“That’s where I come in.”
“My associate says you know how to deal with these kinds of problems, better hope he is right.”
After ten minutes of driving they arrive at a small cave in the woods, getting closer they hear faint echoing sounds inside.
“This might be useful.” Rafael hands over a pair of night-vision goggles. “Red Confederacy approved.”
“From an extinct military organization? How did you snatch one of these?”
“Let’s say I have my contacts on the black market. I’ll wait here.”
“Right, I’ll be back.” Wearing the goggles and turning them on he enters the dark cave to look for the stash of goodies. From the distance he can see an archway which appears to lead to a chamber. After two minutes of walking he looks around for any sign of the supplies, and a small strongbox catches his attention at one corner, as well as a voice coming from above.
“I think I saw something moving over there…” says a female child’s voice.
Phrixus, knowing the usual move of the Mi-Gos, uses his pollaxe to stop the pouncing strike from above and pushes back the creature. This particular Mi-Go is a bit bigger than the others and has a more ferocious appearance, its fur looks unusual but Phrixus can’t manage to distinguish the difference due to the green-colored vision.
The beast “speaks” as usual. “Now this is a force to be reckoned with.” The Mi-Go has a deep male voice.
The Mi-Go lunges forward at him with its talons ready to shred, and Phrixus parries its attack and strikes back with his wrist blade gauntlet, scoring a good hit. The creature responds with a bite to his right arm which makes Phrixus drop his pollaxe. He breaks the grasp with a jab to the eye and the beast recedes, it charges again without giving quarter. Entering quickly in a state of heightened focus he evades the pounce and at the same time he punches it hard in the head. In the brief moment the Mi-Go is stunned, Phrixus pulls out a pistol and shoots it three times. The gunshots manage to severely wound it and it is unable to move. Quickly picking up his pollaxe, he delivers the coup de grace by piercing its neck with the spearhead. Within a few seconds the beast expires.
“Easily done,” says Phrixus. Picking up the strongbox and hauling the dead Mi-Go he heads out to the cave exit.
Rafael is still waiting for him with high expectations. “You made it, excellent work…” Rafael pauses at the sight of the dead Mi-Go, impressed by it. “Looks like you got yourself a nice catch.”
Handing over the strongbox and the night vision goggles, Phrixus glances at the creature. “Its fur has a vibrant red coloration…”
“Let me tell you a secret, there are people who would pay a generous sum of money for its fur, if you are not a tanner I’d make you a fair offer for this game.”
“Turns out I have knowledge in the art of hideworking and have everything to tan and prepare this pelt, I can make a nice trophy with it…”
“Suit yourself, the job is done, I’ll take you back where you came from, let’s go.”
***
Outside of Phrixus’s hideout, present time…
Planning to keep his project as a surprise he leaves the dead Mi-Go inside the van, hoping his friends don’t catch the smell. He enters his lair and meets Roberth and Valeria.
“Where have you been? There is news that should pique your interest right here,” says Roberth.
“Just making some quick money, and let me guess… a fight about a Tauferum and a Superhuman?”
“Always ahead of us, I told you Valeria…” Roberth says.
“Nothing like fast food, sweets, and beverages to enjoy an invigorating clash between an alien vermin and someone with guts willing to risk their skin in melee combat, that’s real entertainment.”
“Rated F for Family Fun…” says Valeria.
“Indeed… interestingly enough I was told about a distinctive website dedicated to these alien critters, we should check it out.”
They gather around Phrixus’s desktop computer and look for The Surma Stalker. The website consists of an extensive repository of information about the alien invaders, its knowledge is highly and strictly evaluated by many professionals of different backgrounds before being publicly available, all the texts are in different languages. It includes topics like “The Tip of the Spear” which is related to combat and survival situations against the alien creatures, as well as articles ranging from the use of firearms to unarmed engagements, strategies and attack techniques with a wide range of melee weapons from knives to baseball bats and machetes, guides on how to effectively defend yourself depending of the kind of Apophling, and an amusing page of dirty tricks which can turn the tables. Another section describes with precise detail the anatomy of the alien creatures and their weaknesses, what body parts to hit and avoid, types of bullet calibers best suited depending on the beast and curiously but not very practiced, using weapons which deliver poisonous substances to the body such as dart guns, explosives with toxic additives and other kinds of devices for similar purposes.
“Chemical warfare huh? That’s new, people have too much free time on their hands,” says Roberth.
“That’s nothing new,” says Phrixus. “Here are some poison formulas using common household agents, mixing them with different compounds, not much data about natural ones coming from plants or animals, guess they are resistant to those.”
Checking another catalog they browse one called “The Tools of the Hunt and Craft,” dedicated to the art of bone carving, tannery, and crafting of all kinds of finished goods made with the parts of a dead alien. Real-time graphs show the current market value of every product, such as Tauferum and Tricephalus ivory, Mi-Go pelts, Surma spikes, and Spynehog’s quills, along with their respective bones and other parts. The catalog also has instructions on how to catch Apophlings with a list of assorted types of traps approved by many people from civilian hunters to military units alike, ranging from the simple bear trap to complex and large mechanisms designed to maim, cripple and possibly kill the prey. The bait mainly consists of beef, some people state that adding spices increases the chance of an alien critter falling for the trap but this is still up for debate.
“I’m not a fan of passive hunting, waiting for a catch is just stagnation,” says Phrixus.
“For others it is rewarding; you have to admire their patience,” Valeria says.
Strangely the word “meat” is highlighted in blue on the list of products value, clicking on it redirects to another catalog called “The Hunter’s Borsch,” and the information they find turns out to be disturbing for them.
“That can’t be true…” says Valeria.
“I think I’m gonna puke,” says Roberth.
The contents of this unusual catalog unsettles them and for a good reason: all kinds of dishes made with the meat of the Apophlings ranging from simple servings such as a roasted cut or a soup to intricate, lavish meals and luscious feasts, the pictures of the dishes shown look like they come from five-stars restaurants, many people around the globe share all sorts of recipes and cooking tips, what sauces and spices to use and the best ingredients to make them more palatable. The taste is closest to veal with a pungent touch, some are a bit stringy while others gamey. So far there are no reported side effects, poisoning or sickness from consuming the alien meat, but experts suggest not to eat it raw. Some argue every specimen of Apophlings taste different but others beg to differ, the reason for the consumption of alien meat dates from the food shortages caused by the end of World War III in many countries who completely lost the support of the Red Confederacy. There are butcher shops opening in some areas which sell only that kind of flesh, approved and passed every sanitary requirement to operate.
“It is hard to look at that side of the meat…” Phrixus says.
“I know Phrixus will try it soon or later,” Roberth says.
“Yes… maybe not,” says Phrixus.
“Yeah he will sample a piece just for curiosity behind our backs,” Valeria says. “And then he’ll become addicted to it.”
“Damn it you want to provoke me.” He shudders jokingly.
“Admit it you can’t resist the temptation.” Roberth says with a laugh.
They keep checking the website for a while…
***
1 week later…
Roberth and Valeria are in the living room of Phrixus’s hideout waiting for a surprise he told them to come see. They wonder why the lights are dim.
“He’ll come with shashliks of alien meat I’m pretty sure,” says Roberth.
“Does it suprise you? Since we saw that website now his curiosity about that kind of food has grown… or maybe not… anyway.” She is cut short by someone appearing at the main door of the room.
The low luminosity of the place gives the shadowy figure a sinister look, clearly it is Phrixus but it appears he is covered by something else, but they can’t figure out what.
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“You miserable fools should have run when you had the chance,” Phrixus says. “Now face your executioner.”
Taking some steps forward Phrixus is completely revealed, he is wearing a pelt but definitely not from any animal of Earth. It has an intense blood-red coloration, a pair of frightening and menacing talons and last but not least the head of a Mi-Go with all its upper teeth intact. He displays his trophy proudly and makes a dramatic gesture, awaiting their reaction.
“Now that’s impressive,” Valeria says.
“That explains the weird smell these past days, looks like your Halloween costume is set,” says Roberth.
“And it is good for winter, a shame we live in a warm tropical biome,” says Phrixus.
“Now you just need the horn of a Tricephalus and the collection is complete,” says Roberth.
“I could bring one down, I just need a bigger room for it, also… that wiki is right, the taste of a Mi-Go is good,” says Phrixus.
“Took you a long time, eh?” says Roberth.
“I bet you ate it raw, only a scrap was enough to make you become ravenous.” says Valeria, laughing.
***
Month number six since the invasion…
“The trending international topic is about a massive orbital cocoon that crashed in Colombia, near the border of Panama. Pictures from every angle reveal it to be a new kind of Apophling and unique to its kind, at first sight, is a gargantuan scarab-like monstrosity with a height of approximately one hundred fifty meters and twice as wide as a football camp. A video recording shows that the behemoth is spawning the smaller minions previously documented and they look fully developed. Its young tend to congregate and follow it around, the towering monster moves at a very slow pace but is constantly hatching more creatures, people around the world call it “Broodmother.” Both countries have agreed to execute a military operation which involves the extermination of the giant creature since it threatens the security of the nations,” says Valeria, reading the news on her laptop.
“And I thought Apophis would dry out of those things…” says Roberth
“By the rate it creates more alien vermin it seems it can overwhelm a city in a matter of seconds, they should throw artillery, white phosphorous, fire, and brimstone to destroy it.” says Phrixus.
“It gets worse…” says Valeria.
***
8 days later…
“…despite the heavy use of all available ordnance against the Broodmother it has proved to be impervious to any damage caused, Panama and Colombia are requesting help from the Vanguard to use the orbital weapon platform “ARES” in hope of destroying the colossal beast as the creature is advancing to the north and has a vast number of lesser critters following its steps, representing a major threat to the neighboring country. Stay tuned for the full news report at 9:00 pm…” says the pressman on TV.
“If you have a foe invulnerable against anything, what are the chances of losing this conflict?” says Roberth.
“Pretty high, it may be slow but it is just a matter of time until it arrives to a capital city and eradicates everything. The ARES station would be our only hope, if it kills it for good,” says Phrixus.
“Or just nuke the hell out of it,” Valeria says.
“If everything else fails, use an old-school WMD,” says Roberth.
***
Month number eight since the invasion…
Phrixus is reading today’s newspaper, there is not a single positive headline to be found.
“I should use all this paper for something more useful, like cleaning dog dung, these reports do not help at all; only cause unnecessary fear,” says Phrixus, annoyed by the recent stories about the invasion.
“That’s why I stopped looking at the news, I know things are getting worse and many countries are starting to lose their ground, but heck… I don’t want to be reminded everyday I’m gonna die,” says Valeria, huffing to the last sentence.
“Some nations already started martial law and curfews, every community is advising citizens to amass the essentials: food, water, batteries, clothes, medicines and flashlights,” Roberth takes a pause. “Seven broodmothers scattered on Earth, and they are bringing ruination without effort.”
“Extinction is knocking on our door right now… people are starting to leave their homes to live in the fortified cities, and the vacancies are almost taken…” says Phrixus.
“We’ll have to prepare soon for the last stand.” says Roberth calmly.
***
Phrixus’s lair, 5:27 pm…
A flaming shallow pit rages at the backyard of Phrixus’s hideout, fed by the corpses of wandering Apophlings who got near the place. With the help of Roberth they fling a Surma to be consumed by the insatiable fire pit.
“That’s the last one, they are getting more numerous every day,” Roberth says. “Those improvised sentry guns of yours do a good job keeping any alien vermin away.”
“The Surma Stalker website released an AI software to be downloaded and installed on autonomous weapons and is specially designed to target and destroy any Apophlings they find without the worry of harming people. I just needed the sensors, a machine gun, and a base to make one, the perfect guardian to keep a watch on the outskirts of your home 24/7,” says Phrixus.
“Hooray for these solutions, I suppose we are done here, I have to go home to keep teaching my cousin violin lessons, he may be eight years old but it distracts him from what is happening in the world, and we have enough provisions for many months, so that’s something, see you around.” says Roberth, taking his leave.
***
2 hours later…
“…And the ‘Carnifex’ is done, an ornate flintlock pistol which uses pellet-loaded paper cartridges instead of a single lead ball to execute those who have committed heinous crimes against the innocent, a tool of justice and punishment… This looks like a shortened blunderbuss. What do you think of it, Laso?” says Phrixus.
Laso tilts his head slightly forward and hoots in approval.
By the time he finished his job he receives a phone call from a friend. “Hey Maria, how goes…”
“Alejandro! *static* I-we need your help! Alien dem*static* everywhere here in the downtown, we are *static* a sporting goods store, many people have been slau*static*, the military and police couldn’t *static* come to this address please hurry!” The call is dropped, then after some seconds, he receives a text message with the address and directions.
“Damn it! I hope it is not too late.”
Hastily he equips himself to save his friend in trouble. When he’s ready, he grabs his most recent creation: a heavily modified M2 Browning refitted as a portable machine gun to be fired from the hip. With only one extended magazine available he will have to use it only as a last resort. Taking additionally his pollaxe, bladed gauntlets and another firearm close at hand he hurriedly gets in his car and drives downtown.
***
1 hour later…
Arriving near downtown he sees that the area is on lockdown. Military forces are holding a perimeter and warning the civilians to stay away from the place. It seems people are protesting, possibly because of their relatives and friends inside the city. One of the soldiers using a megaphone informs them that they are dealing with the situation and any citizen will be rescued and brought back to safety but it doesn’t convince enough of the people.
“When you want something done you have to do it yourself…” says Phrixus.
Leaving the car he sneaks past the checkpoint and moves unseen, out of the sight of the established limits he breaks through the deserted urban area. Not one living soul is out here, just a few human bodies along with some dead alien critters, they look recently killed, meaning there could be human survivors ahead. It doesn’t take long to spot Apophlings wandering his way, the usual fodder encountered everywhere. Armed with his assault rifle he quickly dispatches them. As he advances, more of them appear attracted by the gunfire.
Phrixus keeps up his pace, killing every Apophling in his path. Minutes later he spots from afar the store where Maria is hiding. It looks like it has been barricaded from the inside, as he approaches the store the sounds of metallic thumping catches his attention. From a secluded alleyway he spots a man running desperately, behind him appears a strange creature dashing from the alleyway: some sort of eldritch, perverse and frightening being, it’s covered in a black chitinous exoskeleton, it has six slim and long legs whose endings are pointy enough that they could be used as an offensive weapon, and its arms have large shield-like protrusions. The arms have short curved white-pearl claws, and its head is similar to a Pseudowasp with the difference being the lack of mandibles. As the man runs away, the creature exposes a tentacle-like appendage from its back, the tip is a scary and impressive barbed stinger, as long as the head of a harpoon. It looks like it is taking aim with its stinger, so Phrixus tries to fire his gun at the creature but he runs out of ammo.
In just a second it stretches forcefully forward and impales the unfortunate man, the tip pokes out of his chest, the beast lifts its victim above while the man shakes weakly and dies. The beast proceeds to toss it away to the side like a discarded doll, in that moment it spots Phrixus and makes a buzzing sound, like the hiss of a serpent, it starts to aim its tentacle again.
Phrixus drops his assault rifle to the ground and wields his pollaxe. “I’ll grant you a merciless death for murdering him.”
Taking a defensive stance, Phrixus watches the wavering tentacle. It lunges at him with great speed, and he manages to evade the strike. Deftly unsheathing his telescopic blade, he severs the stinger with one powerful swing. Blood gushes from the wound and the creature makes a short screech of pain. Retracting his tentacle-appendage, it starts to thrash with its arms and enters a frenzied state. It rushes toward Phrixus with surprising velocity and begins to hurl a flurry of attacks with its legs. Despite their slender and skinny appearance they can deliver strong piercing blows, and Phrixus receives some hits even while dodging and blocking its assault. He counterattacks with the blade of his pollaxe but the beast wards off the impacts with its defensive growths. One particular strike causes his weapon to get stuck on the protrusion and forces Phrixus to back off.
The creature removes the pollaxe and runs forward at him. Armed with his bladed gauntlets he awaits the first strike. He manages to catch one of its legs between the blades with one of his gloves and with the other sunders the limb, however the fiend doesn’t stop the aggression and keeps hurling sweeping attacks, this makes the monster more susceptible to opportunist strikes that could end the fight. By deflecting one leg slam of the hexapod he leaves it in a vulnerable state for one second, using it to land a solid hit to its neck with his double-blade gauntlet, he proceeds to rip its throat with one forceful thrust and the creature falls back and drops to the ground flailing wildly. After some seconds it lays still, seemingly dead.
“They are getting more grotesque each day, dammit.” Phrixus says.
He picks up the severed stinger and gives it a quick study, it’s covered in very small spikes pointing inwardly and the spine is long and slightly heavy, it doesn’t have a hollow point on the tip meaning it won’t inject any kind of substance once it impales somebody. He stashes it in his backpack for further examination. Not wanting to waste more time he reaches the entrance of the store, furniture and all sort of items blocking the entrance.
Phrixus knocks on the door. “Anybody here? The coast is clear.”
One of the occupants gets his attention through a window. “Are they all dead?” The man in the store says. “One moment I’ll tell the others to clear this up.”
The sounds of different scraping noises ranging from benches to furniture and anything to block the door indicate they had been very shaken. After two minutes, one of them warily opens the door.
“You are the military? I thought they were bringing transports to escorts us away from the town, this place is crawling with those things,” the man says.
“Not really, a friend of mine called to tell me there is trouble here, unfortunately, the military has their hands full and they are not arriving at every spot.”
“Jesus, are we really that screwed? If those things can get in the town and make a mess and the military can’t do anything then we are truly…” He is interrupted by someone behind him.
“Alejandro!” Maria says. “Thank God you arrived, they came… out of nowhere! Killing everybody and the police couldn’t stand them, we hid here and waited for the National Guard to come. We heard them on the radio but as the hours passed, the telecommunications were failing and luckily I managed to give you a call. We need to get out of here, there are a lot of people here and we believe there are more of those things outside.”
“Follow me, the checkpoint is not too far from here, if we go with a low profile we can reach it in a short time,” Phrixus says.
The survivors gather around and prepare to move. The streets are ominously silent, aside from the military alarm, the occasional gun reports and somebody screaming for their life. They proceed with extreme caution so as not to not attract unnecessary attention.
Halfway there, it seems they took the wrong turn; from afar the group sees them and they are seen. An enormous horde of Apophlings covering the entire roadway, composed mostly of Surmas, Tauferum, and Spynehogs which swarm towards them like many hungry ants.
“Glad I brought my death machine,” Phrixus says.
Wielding the modified M2 Browning strapped on his back he takes aim and gathers strength and focus for the impending clash. As the massive pack gets closer, Phrixus opens fire with no intention of releasing the trigger despite the strenuous kickback of the gun. The small army of aliens are swiftly annihilated one by one, each projectile passing through another with little effort and accelerating the slaughtering process. The storm of lead lasts for about fourteen seconds until the gun runs out of ammunition. The only remains of the opposing force are its mangled and gory bodies, not even a single twitch is seen or a faint sound coming from them, all of them have been completely obliterated. All the survivors stand in awe at such firepower. Phrixus drops his gun to the ground but still holds it with one hand.
Maria approaches him. “You… you saved us! Again! Are you ok?” says Maria.
“Just some annoying tremors in my arms, it will pass in a few minutes, nothing serious,” says Phrixus.
“Ok… we should keep moving, we don’t know if there are more of those things nearby.”
Strapping his gun to his back he continues to lead the group of survivors to safety. There are no more alien critters on their way and they continue undisturbed, finally reaching the checkpoint and safety.
Before Phrixus leaves the area, Maria speaks with him one last time.
“Thanks again for coming… this… this is getting really out of control…” says Maria, troubled by the event.
“I’ve read the government is establishing Guarded Zones in many residential areas: twenty-four-hour military presence to protect the civilians. I think your home is included,” says Phrixus.
“I only wish this ends soon, they are too many and they kill everybody… I’ll speak with my family about this, I’ll send you a message.”
“Take care and stay safe.”
***
4 days later…
“…we confirm no damage caused to the Broodmother in Australia by the ARES orbital station strikes, the use of nuclear weapons as last resort is under discussion, we are increasing our budget to develop and find a solution to deal with this alarming threat. We are deploying more support and assistance to countries badly affected by the continuous ordeal of alien attacks, the VOA will release a new report in five days,” says a spokesman of the VOA in a press conference.
“Damn immune-to-all oversized beetle-things…” Phrixus mumbles, hearing the news on TV.
He is currently minting a few large coins made of precious metals such as silver, gold, bronze and even some of Bellusaxum scavenged from previous adventures, giving the coins curious patterns and symbols with a resemblance to ancient designs. He is not planning to use it as money in transactions but instead as some kind of token of trustiness and reliability for someone who has proven themselves to Phrixus enough to deserve one… or perhaps that’s the only thing he has in mind to do with the coins at the moment and could it be he is just practicing a more fine and precise form of artistry. In the meantime, he receives a call from Valeria.
“Hey honey badger, what’s the word?” Phrixus says with a laugh.
“Annoying as usual, my family’s gonna move to a Guarded Zone, I’ve heard you and Roberth are in one already.”
“Yeah, many residential districts are being left deserted and worse, it seems the alien vermin are starting to encroach on the abandoned suburbs and starting to congregate, I’d wager to push forward to Guarded Zones.”
“I’m still keeping my… uh, guard up after the incident downtown, those things are very sly and I don’t want to pretend to be safe even with the surveillance.”
“Me too, we’ll have to see how things go from here.”
“That’s expecting too much.” She says something muffled to another person. “Darn it, I’ll call you later, I have to move a bunch of stuff here.” She hangs up.
A few hours later he finishes the minting and decides to go to hunt Apophlings in the wilds to clear his mind.
***
Month number nine since the invasion…
Phrixus’s hideout, 4:55 pm…
“It worked… they killed the Broodmother,” Roberth says.
“But at what cost?” says Phrixus. “Now a large expanse of the country has disastrous fallout.” He taps the red circle on the screen, it displays a bombed area in Mexico where the Broodmother was eliminated by a high-yield nuke. “I don’t find it reasonable using nukes to kill Broodmothers and bringing a global nuclear winter as an aftermath.”
“So are we done?” says Roberth.
“Unless the VOA finds the ‘Wunderwaffen’ to kill a Broodmother without turning Earth into an irradiated wasteland then yes, we are good as dead.”
“That’s comforting,” Valeria says. “It will be bloody and agonizing, sure, but at least it will be quick, as you’d say.”
“Exactly, just to add…” He is interrupted by a call from the VOA radio equipment.
“Guess who has another mission to save the world,” Roberth says.
“Try to make a good impression on your way out,” Valeria adds.
“I don’t expect good news...” He grabs the radio. “Corporal Phrixus here.”
He hears many different sounds in the background of the transmission, hurried footsteps, paperwork being handled and whispers, like being in a busy office. Finally Eve Grant responds, and there is a faint trace of sorrow in her voice.
“Corporal Phrixus, good to know you are still in one piece, if you haven’t seen the latest news we are dealing with two Broodmothers in the USA; unfortunately, all the weapons developed so far have turned out to be ineffective against them. Using nuclear missiles will cost us long term, but we are stretched thin, with not enough resources. Sorry, but we can no longer supply you, I’m afraid we are fighting a losing war but we are using everything we have available to keep our ground, a few countries lost their governments and have fallen into a state of anarchy. I can only suggest you prepare yourself for the worst.”
Over the radio someone says, “Officer Eve we are leaving in five minutes.”
She gets back on the line. “I have to leave, good luck Phrixus...” The transmission is cut.
“Fantastic,” says Phrixus. It was the first time she’d ever called just to tell him something. She hadn’t asked for anything. He appreciated that she took the time, although it only made things feel that much more serious if she would bother to warn him.
“Even the founders of the VOA are struggling that hard? Soon there won’t be much left,” says Roberth.
“I ain’t planning to give up without a fight.”
“There is a sense of distress in the country in fact, we better stay with our families to protect them,” says Valeria.
“I agree, we’d feel more confident in the Guarded Zones,” says Roberth.
“As much I hate to leave my little fort I have to concur, I’ll make sure to bring my biggest weapons home, I’m sure my parents won’t have an issue with my pets.”
***
“Are we well-stocked? How much drinking water do we have?” says Phrixus, inspecting, and sorting the foodstuffs.
“We have enough for many months, we are fine by now, you shouldn’t worry much about this,” says his mother.
“I know, I only want to be sure we are in top condition, that’s all.”
“Dinner is almost ready, I’m glad you are more present here at home.”
“And glad to have Dixy and Laso here.” says Phrixus.