Striker (The Alien Wars Book 2) (7 page)

Logan
quietly
opened the door and looked around the lobby. All was silent. He stepped forward
and glanced around. Broken shards of glass and empty bottles of alcohol greeted
him, but no soldiers. He lowered his pistol. They hadn’t seen anyone on the
staircase and now, at the lobby, there was still no one in sight. “They must
have fled during the night.”

Lucy glanced
around the lobby one last time. “I used to love this place.”

“How long did you
stay here for?”
Logan
said.

“Seven years.”
Lucy pointed. “The Christmas tree used to go there every year, remember?”

“Oh yeah.
Those parties were a blast.
Remember how we sat on the roof and saw all the lights sparkling in the
darkness last year?”

Lucy smiled. “Yes,
it was magical.”

Logan
peeked
through the broken windows. “I don’t see anyone out there.”

After picking up
a shotgun that was lying on the ground, Xavier used it to break the glass that
remained on the glass door. He tossed the empty weapon aside and popped out
onto the street. The area looked relatively the same as they’d last seen it, except
this time, there weren’t any soldiers.

The group stood
in the middle of the lane and stared around. “Let’s head this way until we find
a working vehicle,”
Logan
suggested, moving a bit down the street south of them.

Xavier took the
lead, while
Logan
covered the rear. They weren’t expecting any trouble, but it was
better to be safe than sorry.

At the
intersection, they turned right, heading toward the
Golden Gate
Bridge
,
determined to walk all the way if they had to.

They were heading
down a side street when several figures materialized at the far end. Xavier,
who was still in the front, slowed down and shared a glance with
Logan
. “There’s someone up ahead.”

“Keep moving,”
Logan
murmured. “They
may be able to help us.”

Xavier frowned
but continued advancing down the street. The shadows came forward and revealed
five men, all sporting bloody clothes and more weapons than trigger fingers. “I
think we should turn around.”

“Me too,” Lucy
said.

Jet also agreed. “They
don’t seem like the kind of people …” He paused as one of the men raised his
shotgun and opened fire.

As shotgun
pellets hit the ground around them, Xavier fired back. “Go!”

He sprinted to a
power pole, leaned against it, and fired back.

Logan
fired once
with his pistol before leading the charge back down the street. Halfway down,
he stopped and glanced back. “Come on!”

“Just a moment!”
Xavier emptied the
rest of his magazine and carved a hole in another man’s chest. He reloaded as
he sprinted to the end of the street and dove for cover with the others behind
a garbage truck.

“Give him
covering fire!”
Logan
opened fire at the men, who, even though they had lost two of in
their party, were still advancing. Seeing their targets getting away, they
started running.

Bullets hit the
asphalt near Xavier, but he managed to twist and escape. Something hot tore
into his leg. He fell headfirst onto the street, completely in the open.

“Cover me!”
Logan
hunched over and
raced toward Xavier.

Jet knelt next behind
the truck and opened fire, hitting one of the men in the gut.

Logan
reached down
and helped Xavier to his feet. As he did, a round cracked in the air between
them. Enraged,
Logan
shifted and blazed away at the nearest man. He collapsed to the
ground. The other two turned tail without another shot.

Xavier hobbled to
the garbage truck and leaned against it. He offered a grim smile to the others.
“Thanks.”

Lucy bent down
and looked at the wound. Blood was steadily seeping out of the right leg, just
above the kneecap. She glanced up at Xavier. “We’ll have to get the bullet out.”

Xavier shook his
head as he ripped off part of his shirt and tied it around the leg. “We don’t
have the time or the equipment to do that here.”

Lucy glanced up
at a nearby sign. “Hey, I know this street. We’re pretty close to St. Francis
Memorial Hospital. It’s just two blocks that way.”

Logan
glanced down
the street in the direction that the men had retreated. “I don’t know who they
were, but they might—”

“They worked with
Sanchez,” Lucy said.

Jet frowned. “Are
you sure?”

“Of course.
I saw them twice.”

“I wondered if
they noticed you,”
Logan
said.

“I say they did,”
Xavier replied. “That’s why they opened fire.”

Lucy scratched at
the wound again. “Let’s head to the hospital now. Most of the stuff will be
gone, but we might find something to get the damn thing out. The longer it
stays in there, the greater the chance of infection.”

Kenneth raised
his hands as Mike pointed the silencer at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Why didn’t you
tell me you were working with those scumbags?” Spittle flew out of Mike’s mouth.

“What’s going on?”
Molly asked, scared.

Derek put an arm
around his sister and looked at Mike. “No one is paying us anything. Believe
us.”

Mike hesitated.
He slowly lowered the weapon. “Then tell me why your backpack is in the hands
of those men down there.”

Kenneth looked
back through the window and saw that Mike was right. The men were indeed
holding his backpack. “They must have seen it as they were driving along.
What’s the big deal? I’ll just go and get it back.”

Kenneth headed
for the door, but Mike thrust him against the wall. For such a small man, he
clearly had a lot of strength. “Do not go out there. And stay away from the
windows.” He released Kenneth and stood back. “Those men are part of the group
that terrorized this town a while ago.
Rumors
suggest
that they escaped from a prison south of here.”

Derek frowned. “In
Sparks
, someone mentioned something about
Boise
being
haunted.”

“You can say that,
thanks to those men. That’s their thing.”

“What do you
mean?” Kenneth asked. “Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

Carl suddenly
rushed back into the room. “They’ve reached the driveway.”

Mike went to the
window and peered through it, trying not to be seen. The two jeeps were now at
the bottom of the driveway. One started driving up. Muttering in disgust, he hollered
at Carl, “Set it for a minute.”

As Carl raced
away, Mike barked at the others, “Follow me. And hurry.”

The trio saw that
he was serious and they didn’t argue. After making their way to the master
bedroom, Mike opened the door that led onto the back veranda.

As the four of
them headed up the steep hill and into the bushes, Kenneth grimaced at how dark
it had become. Sunset was coming on fast.

The group reached
the shelter of the undergrowth as Carl rushed out. Once he had joined them,
they continued up the hill.

Mike raised a
hand half a minute later and stopped. “That should be enough.” He glanced back
down the hill.

Kenneth turned
just in time to see and hear a thunderous explosion. The house they had been in
just a few minutes earlier was ablaze with smoke and flames.

“That should
delay the men and give us time to get away. I don’t think they’ll follow, but
let’s not waste time.” With smoke blocking their view of the men, Mike led the
group up the hill.

Kenneth was
tempted to ask questions about why Mike had wired the house to blow, but he
knew that it could wait. He was disappointed about losing the backpack, as it held
the ammunition for his pistol as well as a few grenades. At least they’d
managed to escape with their lives.

At the rear of
the group, the teens were puffing and panting.

“How much farther?”
Molly asked.

“Not far. Once we
reach the top of this hill, we’ll be there,” Mike said.

“Where’s there?”
Kenneth questioned.

“You’ll see,”
Mike replied.

Five minutes
later, the group made their way down the small slope and onto the site of an
abandoned mine.
On a flat piece of ground stood a Striker.

Kenneth stopped
in surprise. “Are we flying away in that?”

“Yes. It’s not
that large, but it can still pack a punch.”

“How many do you
have of these?” Derek asked.

“It’s our number
one craft. But we’re not here to talk about statistics.” Mike knelt down and
scampered underneath the exotic plane.

The door above
his head hissed open. As Mike and Carl climbed in, Derek turned to Kenneth. “Should
we really be getting into this when we don’t even know where it’s going?”

“Well, I don’t
see any other option,” Kenneth admitted. “With those men down there, I’m
willing to take a chance in this thing.” He fiddled with his alien gun. “I know
it might not be going to
Yellowstone
National Park
, which is probably where you want to go—”

“You’re dead
right,” Derek interrupted, his arms across his chest.

Mike appeared at
the door. “Hey! We need to get going! Are you coming?”

“Where are you
going?” Molly asked.

“Redding,” Mike
answered.

“
Redding
,
California
?”
Kenneth asked. “Why?”

Mike dropped his
shoulders. “The military is planning a counterattack tomorrow morning. By what
I’ve been told by my contacts, it’s going to be an all-out assault on our base.
If that happens, a good many people and Seods are going to
die.”

“Can you drop us
off somewhere on the way there?” Derek asked. “We want to find our parents.”

“I can, but hurry
up. It will be dark soon, and I want to get to
Redding
before that
happens.” Mike dashed back inside the Striker.

“Satisfied?”
Kenneth asked, looking at the teenagers.

Derek snorted but
climbed in. His sister followed him. Kenneth took one last look around before
he trekked after the teens. The door slid shut automatically behind them.

The space inside
the craft was divided into two sections. One was the cockpit area. It had two
seats next to a wall of controls and a pane of see-through material at the
front that looked remarkably similar to glass. At the back of the cabin was a
row of chairs, which Kenneth assumed was where they would sit.

Derek peeked into
the other cabin and saw a single seat and a desk. In addition, what looked like
a massive television screen covered the area in front of the chair. Beside the
seat was some kind of communication device, as well as a panel of brightly lit
buttons. A few flashed, while some were permanently on.

“We’re about to
lift off,” Mike called out, “so
sit
down.”

Derek hurried
back to the others. They were already lounging in the chairs situated at the
back of the cabin. He joined them, sitting next to Kenneth.

Mike sat down
next to Carl. The two of them adjusted a few levers and pressed a few buttons
before the aircraft started to hum. The whining rumble grew louder and louder,
but it was still much quieter than a normal aircraft. A moment later, the craft
lifted off and squashed them into their seats.

Kenneth glanced
at the glass at the front of the cabin and saw the ground get smaller and
smaller. After rising swiftly, Carl adjusted the controls and held on to
something that looked like a joystick. The Striker made a turn to the left as
it gradually climbed.

“You can get out
of your seats now,” Mike said as he stood up. “We’ll be pretty stable while
we’re in the air, but if we encounter an enemy aircraft, I advise you to sit
back down.”

As Mike headed
into the other room, the teens and Kenneth hurried over to the glass panel and
looked down at the ground below. “How come it’s so quiet in here?”

Carl removed his
helmet and hung it on the back of the seat. “That’s one of the best qualities
of this ship. I won’t go into specifics, but when this was built, a certain
material was placed just inside the metal, so by the time the noise goes
through that, it’s lessened considerably.”