Planet Genocide I (Galaxies Collide Book 3) (15 page)

Mark snatched the folder from on top of a pile of planetary maps, leaning back in his chair as he flipped the cardboard top open. Pulling the A4 photographs out, his eyes widened as a jolt of nervous energy shot up his spine, the papers falling on the floor as his hand grabbed for the telephone. Grimacing as the high pitched whine filled his eardrums from the receiver, he lunged upwards, ‘Get me a courier immediately…these need to go to Number Ten…’ He ran to the door gasping, grabbing the research assistant roughly as he passed, ‘Show me them on the scopes…’

As the courier motorcycle tyres screeched across the paved streets at the entrance to Greenwich Observatory, Mark Anderson stared through the viewing scope, the enormous high powered telescope above moving across space as the assistant pushed on the computerised controls. The scientists hand rose as he glimpsed the sight two hundred and eighty miles above earth, the magnification increasing as he stared in awe.

The two angular grey and black ships were vast, lights seemingly pulsing along the sides as fighters swept from the landing bays. Numerous gun turrets and laser weapons lined the hulls, Mark moving the telescope towards the front of the first vessel and staring in disbelief at the large cannons that seemed to spark and charge along their lengths, his eyes straining once more as he imagined the immense power of such weapons.

Blinking, the professor stared out at the sparkling lights, the static power running the length of the dark cannons as they prepared to fire. Then he glanced away sharply, his hands rising to his eyes as he blinked furiously, the bright surges still pulsing across his pupils. The research assistant dropped next to him, ‘Are you okay Mr Anderson? What happened?’

Slowly the professor dropped his hands, his head shaking as the assistant offered him eye drops, his voice low, ‘The enemy is here in strength…and they have just fired at something…’ He shook his head despondently, ‘I don’t think there is anything on this planet to take on those!’

Lightning flashed across the dull grey late evening sky, the rain beginning to pelt down from heavy storm clouds as the soldiers of the National Guard stood uneasily in wait. Distant screams filled their ears as low rumbling spread through the tall buildings, explosions to the north sending billowing black smoke into the air.

Officer Davis Michaels gritted his teeth, rain water running down his face as his eyes strained in the dull light, staring across the square as the last few people ran past. Leaning against a car bonnet, he looked around, the surrounding soldiers with their automatic rifles raised, staring nervously out over the square. Shrieks echoed through the buildings as Morgon soldiers cut down any resistance, several specialist units beginning to clear apartment blocks and offices near the Staten Island Ferry Terminal.

Emergency vehicle sirens wailed across the city, the low murmur of warning alarms echoing across the tall building walls as Humvees and army lorries sped into Manhattan, most of the panicked residents attempting to drive out, the bridges and tunnels now packed full of stationary traffic.

The black NYPD officer glanced round again, seeing more police officers and soldiers running down the side streets towards them, their expressions grim as they glanced warily from side to side. A young officer dropping to a crouch next to him and nodding a fearful greeting, ‘The UN Building is gone…we are losing control of the city…’

Stealth fighters swept in behind the ‘F’ Series jets flying south along the Hudson River, the dark plumes of smoke rising on the horizon as they approached the city. The pilots glanced around warily, their nervousness high at being given orders to fire at will on any enemy forces found in a home city, let alone that city being New York.

The pilots’ eyes widened beneath their visors as numerous silver craft banked sharply across the landscape to join them on either side, the smooth hulls complimented with laser cannon beneath, the weapons crackling with static as the new pilots waved a greeting through their cockpits. The faces of Red Leopards seemed to snarl on the side of the craft beneath the cockpits, the sleek craft speeding forward as the US fighters armed their weapons.

Buildings flashed by beneath, the jets nearing Manhattan as the silver Trevakian fighters suddenly banked away, their hulls sweeping upwards as the US pilots stared in shock, then alarms filled their cockpits, the rear aircraft climbing and banking dramatically as the threat became visible.

Pilots gasped as over one hundred black fighters appeared as dots above, the enemy craft breaking formation as their instruments identified the Trevakian and human aircraft below. With the first fifteen ‘F’ Series fighters approaching Manhattan, the remainder banked away, turning to face some of the most experienced pilots from across the galaxies.

Below in the outer limits of New York, mobile SAM anti-aircraft vehicles began moving into position with their logistics. Missile racks whirred as some of the targeting systems became active, several crews working feverishly as they realised the electronic equipment was not responding. As the working systems moved to point skywards, their crews stared upwards with binoculars and range finders, shouting instructions to the engineers working on the interior keyboards, keen to avoid targeting their new allies.

The initial Morgon black armoured infantry advanced en-masse into Hanover Square, the American National Guard commander raising his arm as the soldiers tensed, his voice screeching with adrenalin, ‘Open Fire!’ Assault rifle muzzles flashed as the soldiers fired from behind their vehicles and cover, the bullets ricocheting off the thick alloy armour, a number of alien soldiers falling. Several pedestrians and office workers were still running northwards along the sides of the square, their screams drowned out as they ducked with their hands over their ears at the eruption of gunfire.

On the south side of the square, the upper windows shattered outwards, sniper barrels protruding into the rain as Morgon grenadiers began to select their targets. Wider barrels were pushed from the highest attic windows, the gas powered acid guns armed and ready to fire.

Officer Michaels raised his automatic pistol, steadying it with his left hand as the armoured infantry became just visible through the trees and rain. The wisps of green slurry swept across above the defenders, several glancing upwards as the acid shells fell to earth, landing behind and amongst the US soldiers and shattering on rain swept sidewalks.

Bodies twisted and shook in agonised pain, the acid splattering across many of the soldiers as rifles clattered onto the cement. Screams of intense pain swept across the remaining defenders, their countrymen dropping to roll on the wet cement as limbs and nerves began to burn in excruciating and terrifying torture.

Michaels turned aghast as the soldier behind him dropped to his knees, his helmet smouldering as he reached for his holstered pistol, the policeman shouting desperately as the young infantryman raised the weapon quickly to his temple. A muffled shot and the body fell forward, blood pumping from the head wound as Davis screamed, the soldiers back torn open as acid consumed his spine.

He looked round desperately, the few survivors firing out or hesitating, some dropping next to friends as the bodies convulsed in death. An armoured personnel carrier screeched to a halt nearby, the front armoured plate crashing against abandoned vehicles blocking the street, the window glass shattering from the impact. The carrier was engulfed in green acid, the metal smouldering as muffled screams came from inside, the putrid slime slipping and splattering through any opening.

The police sergeant was frozen in fear, staring at the disintegrating army officer on the sidewalk before him. Michaels shouted desperately at him, soldiers beginning to turn to run as the sights around them overwhelmed their courage, the military in the centre of the square cut down as they rose to flee. The sergeant looked across at him, his eyes seeming distant as cracks from the other side of the square rang out, the policeman’s head exploding as a high powered sniper round found its target, the decapitated body dropping lifelessly downwards.

NYPD Officer Davis Michaels screamed across the surviving soldiers and police officers, a young female corporal staring in shocked horror at him, his voice contorted in fear, ‘Run!’ He bit his lip as black armoured figures began to emerges through the park and trees, their weapons rising as they glimpsed the wavering defenders, the young female soldier’s body inactive with terror as bullets zipped past, her breathing short and sharp as her mind swept deeper into shock. Michaels grabbed her arm and propelled them both forward at a half crouch as bullets clattered against the Humvees, their tyres exploding and windscreens shattering.

Running into William Street, Davis heard the shouts from his partner in front, the older man beckoning them forward frantically as a Humvee exploded behind in the square. They ducked as black fighters tore overhead, mechanical screams filling the air as dust and debris fell from the buildings above. Officer Michaels glanced upwards as the streets seemed to shake, an explosion ripping though the upper floors of the Trump Building ahead, glass, office equipment and home furnishings falling downwards as he winced, seeing burning bodies toppling from the upper floors.

Blood curdling screams from behind spurred them on, more acid shells erupting across the side street walls as the Morgon infantry advanced, tossing pulse grenades through upper windows with rocket infantry, snipers and engineers clambering up staircases to the high rooftops.

Fires were burning above as they ran across the street, abandoned cars and vans left at angles across the lanes as people ran northwards, smoke and burning papers beginning to fill the lower levels as they approached Exchange Place. Davis’s partner was screaming, his voice hoarse as he urged people to move northwards, some simply staring to the south as sporadic gunshots got nearer. They reached the junction, running to the left and alongside empty restaurants and cafes, suited executives running before them as they progressed.

Davis gasped, the female soldier now more responsive as they jogged, ‘We need to get across the Hudson…’ His voice tailed off as flames swept upwards from the New York Stock Exchange building ahead, the upper stories burning out from control from a direct hit. Black craft swept past across the junction in the distance, some two hundred metres above the street, the pilots now firing into Greenwich Street below and lining up with the building ahead, their eyes gleaming at the prize as the World Trade Centre stood almost untouched.

Tracer bullets swept upwards, the defending Gatling guns below spewing high calibre bullets at the oncoming craft, SAM missile batteries swinging round as fire poured from their bases, the projectiles shooting upwards. Two of the Morgon craft climbed dramatically, the rockets closing on their prey as they accelerated. Davis stared open mouthed at the flash that seemed to fill the dull sky, the Morgon fighter burning brightly as it twisted violently across the sky before plummeting into the park before City Hall, a large fireball billowing upwards.

The second fighter banked hard, two SAM missiles pursuing the black craft across the sky as the pilot weaved, then swooped downwards, firing into the buildings and streets below as the missiles closed on their target. The explosion flashed across the lower sky, a fireball descending to the apartment blocks near Columbus Park, the buildings toppling under the force of impact.

The third fighter swung to the left, screaming over the pools as it swept out over the Hudson River, SAM missile pursuing the craft out of sight to the north. Hoarse cheers rose from the gun batteries, the army engineers frantically beginning to re-supply their weapons as gunfire echoed from the south.

US Marine Humvees and armoured cars screeched to a halt near the monumental office block, the rattle of tank tracks resounding off the nearby high walls as helicopters flew low across the Hudson from the west…the US Military were not relinquishing Manhattan Island without a fight.

The potent and large laser blasts swept across the sky over the United States, the enormous warship guns flickering again outside the atmosphere as they re-charged their weapons. Anyone looking upwards, and there were many, were temporarily blinded by the intense lights, the raw energy tearing across in the lower atmosphere, the charges rapidly descending towards their target.

The owner of the green Chevrolet Station Wagon had just completed filling their fuel tank, the remote and weather beaten gas station along the north-south highway having seen better and more prosperous days.

The lady trudged towards the dusty kiosk as the large man behind the glass grinned, ‘That will be two hundred dollars Ma’am…’

The middle aged woman grimaced in exasperation, ‘Two hundred dollars! I even had to fill it up myself…what kind of price is that?’

The overweight gas station owner smiled sarcastically, ‘The attendant left once word came of what was happening at the coast…I have only stayed on through the goodness of my heart and I believe that deserves a reward…all full tanks of gas are two hundred dollars today…’

The lady shrugged, glaring through the dust covered screen as the man took her card, his voice lowered, ‘The electronic machines are not working today, but I still have one of the old swipe machines…this card should be okay…’ He stared back at her triumphantly, pulling the top section across the plastic, the credit card stub fluttering as he tore her receipt, ‘Good job I kept this machine…none of the cash dispensers are working in town either…’

They glanced round as a motorbike engine burbled, the machine slowing as it progressed onto the forecourt, dust whipping around the red helmeted rider as the wind seemed to increase, the woman snatching her receipt as the store owner smiled, ‘Quite a wind today…it sweeps through Death Valley and brings all the dust here…where you heading?’

The woman indicated to the bike rider, ‘Is he going to have to pay two hundred dollars too?’

The man smiled in glee again, lifting a large sandwich to his lips, ‘No Ma’am, motorcycles are sixty dollars today…’

The woman glanced one last time at him, ‘We are heading north…away from the troubles…Canada hopefully…’ The gas station owner nodded, calling after her, ‘Do you need food for the trip? I have plenty in the store…’

She continued walking, ignoring the shouts behind as she approached the young rider, his helmet visor black, ‘Be careful young man, the greedy owner will charge you sixty dollars for a tank of gas…’

The man turned in surprise and exasperation, ‘Sixty Dollars! That’s robbery…I was going to get some food, I have not eaten since this morning!’

The woman smiled sympathetically, ‘We have plenty of groceries in the back of the car, we can spare a small amount until you reach the next town…Armistead I think it’s called.’

The wind tugged at their clothing, dust swirling around them as the gale intensified…then the ground seemed to tremble, a dull roar spreading across the terrain from the north as the biker grasped her arm reassuringly, his voice calming, ‘Be steady lady…best get back to your car…’

They struggled forward, the wind howling around them as the young man assisted her back to the station wagon, the woman looking up as the bright intense lights swept overhead on the northern horizon, her hand rising and voice a gasp as muffled screaming came from the vehicle, ‘What the hell was that?’

The man shrugged, ‘I don’t know...it’s best we keep moving…get into your car, Ma’am.’ The helmet nodded as she blinked at him, rubbing her eyes, ‘I am Brad by the way…’

The woman smiled, ‘Katherine…’ His body tensed as the ground shook violently, the two falling to their knees as the wind stopped abruptly. The ground continued shaking, lights imploding as the station owner staggering in fright from his booth, goods and bottles falling from the vibrating shelves behind, shattering on the tiled floor as he ran towards his pickup truck, clasping the proceeds from the till.

A distant rumbling began to fill their ears, the sound reverberating across the surrounding mountains as the ground continued to shake violently, the motorcyclist raising his hand to point to the west in horror.

The lady glanced upwards, beyond the low mountains that rose up by the side of the carriageway, her eyes widening in terror. The horizon from left to right and as high as could be seen was filled with dark billowing smoke and flame, dust pouring upwards from the impact of the high powered lasers. The sky began to darken, the debris billowing out and beginning to obscure the light, Brad shouting, ‘Get back in the vehicle…head north!’

As the North American Plate and the Pacific Plate along the San Andreas fault line shifted violently from the ferocity of the impact, lava and acrid poisoned smoke poured from the rupture points high into the sky, the laser blasts from space above having been direct hits. The deep rumble that swept across the terrain shattered windows as deep cracks spreads across the roads and freeways, the shaking escalating and intensifying as building began to shudder.

A magnitude 10.2 earthquake swept across the Pacific Plate, the enormity of the force destroying everything in its path. San Francisco simply disintegrated, the Golden Gate Bridge collapsing immediately upon initial impact, sweeping cars and lorries from the structure and a mercifully quick death. The plates shifted continuously, the city collapsing downwards into chasms in the earth as buildings shattered and imploded. Fire raged across the surviving ruins, lava pouring from ground ruptures as a firestorm ensued, sucking all the oxygen from the air and killing any survivors from hypoxia and suffocation.

Towns and villages along the plate lines were engulfed in lava and searing heat, the buildings and residents incinerated instantly as the violent shuddering continued. All across the western seaboard, bridges and buildings imploded and collapsed, burying and crushing people as the earthquake tremors continued mercilessly.

In Los Angeles, the central district toppled, the tall buildings shattering and collapsing downwards as screams of terror filled the streets. Gas mains exploded as the pipes were ruptured, trains crushed in tunnels as the reinforced roofs simply gave way. Apartment blocks shook and collapsed onto their foundations as the violent shuddering continued for nearly two hours, aftershocks for some time afterwards. Freeways broke and splintered, the terrified drivers and passengers killed or injured as their vehicles lurched violently downwards, some sucked into large cracks, opening ravines or sink holes as poisoned air surged upwards with intense heat, searing and incinerating any living flesh that came into contact.

LAX Airport disappeared as a large split swept along the runway, the grounded commercial aircraft exploding or toppling into the chasm that formed. Airport building disintegrated under the strain and powerful force, most shattering before being sucked downwards.

The Diablo Canyon Nuclear power plant erupted under the immense strain, a mushroom cloud rising upwards and outwards as the violent shaking continued, nuclear fallout spreading into the already poisoned atmosphere, the disaster alone similar to Chernobyl. Other fuel based power plants all across the Pacific Plate were engulfed in fire, the black smoke plumes joining others as polluted darkness fell across the lower Pacific coast.

The sirens wailed in San Diego as the harbour walls disintegrated and collapsed, ships and pleasure craft smashed against each other or rocks and debris like children’s toys as hulls punctured and cracked, the water levels surging dramatically and buffeting the vessels as most pleasure craft gradually sank beneath the surface. The water bubbled and swirled, rising further and sweeping over the sea defences, the weight of water splintering and shattering the flood walls as it gathered momentum. Swirling pools formed out in the normally clear blue-green ocean, the sea bed churning as sand and debris was pulled to the surface.

Sea water cascaded and poured through the streets, sweeping up survivors, vehicles and any other objects to slam against the disintegrating buildings. Tall buildings simply toppled as the salt water crashed against shaking foundations, some collapsing against nearby skyscrapers as the shaking continued. The bridges of a once stunning city simply crumbled away as the earth trembled violently at their foundations, the tide pushing inland as the ocean surged further, pouring across defences and streets and sweeping up everything in its path. For over an hour, the ocean claimed the city, surging into basements or destroyed buildings and drowning the trapped and defenceless residents.

As the waves began to retreat, sucked rapidly from the city, corpses and belongings were dragged out to sea, several of the last struggling survivors pulled on strong undercurrents out into the wider water as their bodies were beaten and broken against obstructions and debris.

As the devastation continued along the coast, the ocean swirled and fought the unnatural disaster, the shock wave resonating outwards as enormous waves began to form and join, the Tsunami gradually escalating until waves reached unprecedented levels, the tide sweeping out to the south west from the mainland.

Black Morgon fighters swept inland through the thick smoke and darkness, pursuing any of the remaining US Fighters, their enemy now not only short of fuel, but close areas to land. The US pilots flying for their lives as one by one they were shot from the skies or had to eject, their planes exploding below as the pilots drifted down to earth…into a world they no longer recognised.