Planet Genocide I (Galaxies Collide Book 3) (8 page)

Officer Davis Michaels was shouting along the Staten Island Ferry Terminal pier, his hands waving frantically as the pedestrians ran past him, their eyes oblivious to his black NYPD uniforms and any authority in the panic. His automatic pistol in his gloved hand, he shouted sternly again, ‘Keep moving! No need to push…be careful…make your way up into the financial district, the NYPD will be stopping the traffic!’ The screaming echoed around him, the numerous people pushing each other as the rain began to fall heavily once more, his partner shouting from the opposite edge of the wide walkway.

Standing on tiptoe and straining his neck, he stared further along the pier, seeing the terrified people running off the previously full ferries, their expressions strained as a police helicopter blades whirred overhead. Two grey jets of the US Navy swept past and northwards along the Hudson River after the enemy fighters, a sonic boom bouncing off the high buildings and skyscrapers as the sirens wailed out across the city.

Wiping the rainwater from his drenched face, his eyes widened, energy surging up and down his spine as the flames spurted from the water, the small rockets engaging thrusters as one shot vertically upwards, three others surging after the Navy fighters’ to the north. The police helicopter exploded in a wide flamed fireball, the propellers still turning as the burning craft fell from the grey gloomy sky, smashing against the choppy waves as flames and debris fell onto the pier. Tall black figures emerged over the ends of the loading platform between the two ferries, strange dark weapons rising as Officer Michaels strained his eyes through the pelting rain, the throng of hundreds of people pushing, jostling and screaming desperately past.

The wisps of green smoke swept towards the panicked crowded pier, the police officers straining their eyes as the smoke rose upwards at the back of the large grouping, the screams becoming more frantic and agonising as the officers jostled against the crowd, attempting to make their way forward. Officer Michaels raised the automatic pistol above the side of his head, thrusting his muscular body sideways into the crowded pier, his legs tensing as he forced himself forward, heart pounding as the screams grew in intensity, his mind hearing the intense pain and desperation.

Pushing towards the rear of the struggling crowd, he gasped as the scene before him became visible. Several frames writhed in death throws on the wet cement, the green liquid gurgling and spitting as toxic fumes filled his nostrils. Other body parts and remains lay still, the acidic liquid eating through organs and muscle as steam rose from the corpses, the liquid gurgling around the shapes as it ate through flesh.

Officer Michaels screamed in desperate frustration and fear, lowering his pistol towards the now throng of black figures some two hundred metres away, the barrel kicking as he fired a full ammunition clip, red hot bullet casings discharging from the top slide of the weapon. The pistol projectiles flashed as they clipped and ricocheted off the black body armour, an inhuman shriek of hatred filling the air as the gunners dropped to reload their bulky weapons, a lone black figure staring directly at the policeman.

The pistol clicked empty, the barrel smouldering, his eyes staring at the numerous black figures as they seemed to stare back menacingly. His older partner frantically grabbed his shoulders roughly and dragged him back, the experienced officer’s voice a scream in his ear, ‘Time to go Davis…we are done here!’

Dull explosions ripped through the city behind as they turned, the officers slipping on the wet tarmac slope, their soaked black uniformed bodies running in panic after the people that were spilling in terror onto the main streets above, their screams filling the air. Officer Michaels stole a glance back as they reached the top of the slope, his vision clouded by the dense rain a brief glimpse of numerous glowing red eyes as they disappeared from view.

The two US Navy flyers neared on their prey, their jets streaking along low over the river. Lights flashed in their cockpits as the rockets swept after them, flares bursting from the back of the sleek grey planes as they veered from side to side. Windows imploded along the banks as the jets swept past, debris pouring onto pedestrians and the streets below, the glass splintering and cracking against the tarmac.

Releasing their own rockets, the jets soared upwards, pursued by the projectiles behind as they broke and swept east and west to escape, the pilots desperately trying to evade the closing missiles. Flames spurted from the first jet, its rear engines coughing as the blast tore through the outer manifolds. Rising into the grey sky dramatically, hundreds of people watched from below as the pilot shot upwards through his canopy, his ejector seat throwing him from the crippled aircraft. The fighter began to break up as its ascent slowed, then turned, burning fiercely and brightly in the air to fall to earth, smoke pouring from the wreckage as it fell into Central Park, a black plume of billowing smoke and flame shooting upwards.

The remaining US Navy jet bucked and weaved, the pilot frantically yanking his stick in attempts to shake off the rocket behind. Pushing the stick forward, the plane shot towards the streets below, the pilot desperately attempting to clear the city as he weaved from side to side. The engines screamed as he levelled the craft, flying only one hundred metres above the rooftops as people stared upwards in terror, the after burn booming as the fighter accelerated.

The rocket swept after the craft, closing on its prey as the pilot swore under his breath, banking north tightly as the projectile swept past, exploding into a low apartment block as it attempted to turn after the US Navy craft. Dust and debris blasted upwards, the force of the detonation causing the building to crumble, corridors and residences imploding inside and the building shook, then collapsed into the street.

The black fighters and bombers surged north along the Hudson River, hurtling over boats and ferries as the passengers screamed below, the vessels rocking in the swell. Flares and small lasers swept across the crackling air in their wake, the US Navy missiles exploding in mid-air as the countermeasures caught them, the flashes and blast waves shattering car windows and boats along the riverbank. Several fighters and bombers broke off on pre-determined flight runs as the residents below cowered in terror, staring upwards as strange dark vessels swept overhead, the rain pelting down across the city.

Five darkened fighters surged down West then East 42nd Street in ‘V’ formation, some seventy-five metres above the tarmac, the lasers crackling beneath their hulls as the pilots made final checks on their attack run, rainwater bouncing and sizzling across the blast shields as they neared their target.

Pedestrians dropped to the sidewalks in horror, cars smashing into the backs of each other as the drivers ducked to stare upwards in shock through their shaking windows. The glass in shopfronts and offices shattered in the backdraft, people screaming as they were cut or showered in sharp shrapnel.

The lead fighter swept upwards, manovering slightly to either side as the bombers behind lined up on the tall building ahead. Rocket fuel ignited as static surged across their front guns, the discharge of energy sending bright lights hurtling towards the target as the rockets swept after the guidance.

The glass shattered across the tall wide shaking structure, slicing through human flesh of the office workers inside as hundreds of people were killed or maimed. The lasers struck the base of the building, the rockets following, flames rising and billowing up the structure as it shook violently, the remaining windows imploding with the atmospheric pressure as the craft swept past on either side.

The foundations shuddered, the building shaking dramatically once more as clouds of dust poured from the roof and outer structure, the imposing landmark gradually leaning then momentum seeming to pull it downwards. The crashing and screeching of metal and cement as the skyscraper collapsed downwards, shattering everything beneath as immense weight flattened everything in its path. The United Nations building was gone.

The wide straight avenues of New York were ideal for the Morgon fighters, several groups of three sweeping along congested wide thoroughfares as mechanical screams filled the air. Lasers sparkled as the guns belched energy, vehicles and buildings exploding as the vessels fired continuously. Terrified residents and tourists ran into the side streets, their screams and shouts of alarm drowned out by the grinding and screeching of building structures as explosions weakened foundations.

A large group of tourists fought each other in panic by the lifts at the top of the Empire State Building, all desperate for a space in one of the cars, the city sights from the upper viewing platform no longer irresistibly breath-taking and easily forgettable in their urgency to escape.

An elderly man stood by one of the upper corners, a veteran flyer from air wars past staring out upon the dogfights he never imagined he would experience over home soil. Tears of emotion filled his eyes as he took in the sights extending across the city, fires and smoke rising into the air as black fighters and bombers swept across and between the high buildings. Explosions rocked the southern suburbs as Morgon infantry cleared obstructions and cut down the US National Guard, sporadic firefights now just delaying actions as the soldiers fled northwards into Manhattan across the bridges.

Oblivious to the screams and struggles near the lifts, he stared out towards the south, glimpsing the four black vessels lining up for another strafing run across the city. The craft shot downwards then levelled out as they screamed forward, the elderly man coughing with emotion as he realised their intended target. Reality swept into slow motion, the flashes from beneath the black wings surging towards the building as the man slowly turned, smiling as he remembered his own high adrenalin in flying, realising the enemy pilots may indeed be even feeling the same.

He vaguely felt the ferocious shake, the flames surging upwards and exploding through the lift doors, incinerating the struggling crowd. Then his body felt light, the tall imposing building toppling sideways from the blast as he fell, then nothing as his body was crushed beneath tons of brick.

USAF Fighter jets circled and banked with US Navy Trainer jets over the north Hudson River, the numerous grey aircraft sweeping forward southwards towards the city as startled residents below stared upwards, the warning sirens now blaring out across the surrounding state.  

Shrieks filled the air, the black armoured bodies surging forward as more and more silhouettes clambered onto the pier behind. Officer Michaels and his partner were running northwards, the high buildings on either side dark and grey as they approached the financial district. Hundreds of people were now fleeing as smoke plumes rose into the sky in the distance, the sirens wailing through the narrow streets.

Horns blared as more as more drivers scrambled from their vehicles, leaving yellow taxis and cars in the middle of traffic congested streets. Dust and light debris began to fill the air, drifting back to earth from explosions to the north as they fled. Reaching the junction with Water Street, Michaels slowed, Humvees screeching to a halt near Hanover Square ahead as uniformed soldiers of the national guard pushed people northwards, their faces strained and assault rifles held across their chests. People ran through the small park, several scrambling over the low walls and bushes in a desperate attempt to escape to the north.

Office staff stared down from high windows wide eyed at the horror evolving below, the US soldiers beginning to lower their weapons and assume defensive positions amongst the ornate trees and park benches. Other staff simply ran from their desks, the expensive cars of executives left by the sidewalks as figures sprinted away from the river in fear.

Seeing five more police officers in a side street, Michaels darted towards them, pushing through the throng on fleeing people, dropping to a brisk walk as he approached the group. A middle aged sergeant was directing his men, pointing to the streets to the north as a breathless Michaels approached, the man nodding a greeting to him as he waited. After instructing a couple of officers to clear the streets to the north of cars as best they could, the sergeant turned to the drenched policemen in confusion and exasperation, ‘What’s it like to the south…what the hell going on?’

Davis shook his head in distain and shock, ‘Armoured soldiers have arrived…they must be those aliens…they have some sort of acid guns.’ He grimaced, still breathing heavily, ‘I fired a whole clip at them and they just looked at me…I didn’t down one!’

Distant shrieks echoed from the direction of the river, the sergeant tensing and glancing round, ‘Very well…more of our soldiers are entering the city from the north and west…the radios are out, so we will need to act independently…how many of them are there?’

Davis shrugged, his uniform soaked, ‘Hundreds maybe…perhaps even more…I dunno how we will stop them sergeant.’

The screaming got louder, people running and now sprinting out of the southern streets as Davis and his partner nervously drew their pistols once more, the sergeant doing the same as he strode forward determinedly, a few soldiers beginning to duck behind their four armoured cars as more people fled towards the streets north. A muffled blast from the north startled them, several glancing round as a wide plume of fire and smoke rose into the air in the distance as a rumble spread across the square.