The Dragons of Men (The Sons of Liberty Book 2) (30 page)

“Eric!” Sarah shouted, confusion and horror on her face. “What’s wrong with them?”

Before Eric could answer, the four refugees, the two soldiers, and Lieutenant Rue ceased thrashing about and bellowed as they rose, lunging for those untouched. The two soldiers raised their weapons and pulled the triggers—opening fire on nearby refugees before Eric quickly spun and began to unleash his own deadly volley. One of the four civilians pounced on Alexandra while two others jumped on Judah. Rick was vaguely aware of them both falling to the ground as someone slammed into him, struggling to wrap their hands around his throat. He fell to the road—dropping Judi as he did so—and struggled against shock and the attacker. Rick was too stunned to fight back as an enraged Lieutenant Rue began to scream and sob, smashing Rick’s head against the concrete. Rick reached for his head to protect himself when Lieutenant Rue suddenly went limp, falling down on top of Rick as blood spilled on the ground beside him. Rick shoved him off with a curse and looked around him.

Three dead people lay next to a screaming Alexandra and a gasping Judah. The other two Rangers lay motionless alongside three other dead refugees who had been running with them. Sarah ran over to Judah and quickly administered his digital inhaler. Rick tried to stand, but a rush of dizziness overwhelmed him. He raised a hand to his forehead and felt a thin, bleeding gash.

“What was that?” Sarah cried. “What the hell were they doing?”

Trey shook his head, just as stunned as the others.

“We’re not sticking around to find out,” Eric replied, though even he was visibly shaken. “Rick, Judah, Alexandra—get on your feet. We need to move.” Judah nodded his head after inhaling one more dose, moving to Alexandra and helping her to her feet. Rick gave a pathetic thumbs up—not wanting to nod his head or speak because of the pain. He tried to rise, but his head seemed to pound pain into his eyes from the inside and he stumbled back to the ground.

“Go!” Rick shouted, wincing at the pain. Just then the sound of an engine turning the corner behind them caused him to, with a gut-turning effect, turn his head. A red SUV roared toward them. Eric ran to the middle of the road as though he were going to try and flag them to stop.

“Eric, move!” Sarah shouted. “There’s no way they will—”

Eric raised his assault rifle and began firing at the vehicle. Bullet holes dotted the window and a shower of glass sprayed as the SUV swerved to the left. It mounted the curb—taking out a handful of parking meters before coming to a slow stop against a concrete post. Eric ran over to the truck, firing into the cab three more times before dragging two bodies out. He looked back at the others and shouted.

“It’s still running,” Eric said quickly. “Let’s go!”

No one moved at first—not even Rick. They all stood there, eyes wide as they gazed at the dead men Eric pulled from the vehicle. Sarah and Elizabeth slowly approached uncertainly while Judah held Alexandra as though he were the only thing supporting her.

“You killed them,” Sarah whispered.

“Sarah, we need the truck.” Eric tossed his rifle inside, followed by his shotgun before kicking shattered windshield free. “It’s us or them.”

“But you didn’t have to—”

“Get in the truck!” Rick hollered before rising to his unsteady feet. “They’re dead and we’re not. We have to keep moving!”

The others hesitated only a moment before packing themselves into the SUV. Rick led Judi over to the rear and threw the hatch open—helping her in before climbing in himself. As Rick closed the hatch, Eric threw it in reverse, backed up, and then sped toward the bridge that was now only a few minutes away, swerving around clusters of running people headed in the same direction.

No one spoke. Only the quiet crying of the two younger girls filled the overcrowded cab. This was the world they lived in now, where the difference between life and death could demand the killing of strangers for their wheels.

Why fight?
Rick asked as they sped onto the bridge.
Do you honestly think you can survive? Do you?

Before he could answer his own question, a bright flash detonated to his right, followed by heat and an awareness of being weightless. As the red SUV tumbled through the air, acrid smoke and the screams of his loved ones dominated his cognitive senses, mocking Rick as if the world had decided to answer his question.

“Direct hit,” Battle Lord Kane said as they watched the two MIGs that made it through the anti-air defenses strike the bridge. A few fleeing people and a speeding red SUV were thrown through the air—the SUV landing on its roof and sliding across the pavement before coming to a halt against a motionless semi-truck a couple hundred feet ahead. A gaping hole now ate away at a good portion of the two eastern lanes, though the other two lanes and the southbound side of the bridge were untouched.

“Good hit!” Lukas shouted enthusiastically. However, just as he shouted, two red flashes appeared over the map, indicating that the two MIGs had been shot down. “Two more hits like that and we’ve won. Mr. Scott, what’s the status on the Yellow Jackets over the city?”

“It’s a turkey shoot, my Sovereign,” Battle Marshal Scott replied. “We’ve only lost one to organized resistance. However, most of those who have been turned appear to be confused, fighting other refugees with whatever they have at their disposal. I don’t think they pose a serious threat.”

“And what of our—”

A bright and painful light filled Lukas’ eyesight, causing him to wince as he quickly shut his eyelids. The light, however, only intensified, searing his retinas as he began to scream. As he reached for his eyes, a powerful thunder suddenly choked his ears. He cried out, though he could barely hear his own voice, the deafening roar on the verge of blowing out his eardrums overshadowed all other sound. It felt as though he had been strung up behind a jet engine as the sun burned behind his eyelids. He clawed at his eyes—ripping his nVision contact lenses free. The brilliant light immediately vanished as he tossed the tiny glowing displays to the ground. Lukas tore his two earpieces out, the thunder dying as well.

Lukas glanced around the room and watched as the others shouted and cried out.

“Is everyone okay?” Kane shouted, though his voice sounded somewhat hollow and distant.

Lukas glanced down at the glowing circles that had been in his eyes moments ago. They were bright white—increasing in intensity as the seconds passed. After a few moments, they winked out with a flash.

“What the hell was that?” Lukas demanded.

“They must have hacked our nVision,” Jamie said wearily as she rubbed her red eyes.

“I thought we had instilled preventative measures to—”

“We had!” Warren replied as he leapt into action with a small team of engineers, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. “They shouldn’t have been able to hack it again.”

“Well they did!” Lukas roared. “Do we still have eyes on the battle?”

“No, sir,” Clark Madison replied. “The battle map is down.”

“Is there any other way to access the video feeds?”

“Not yet,” Clark said, guiding his hands over his computer station quickly. “Until the terminals are booted and I’ve rerouted our satellite feed to our local computer, we’re blind in the skies.”

“Do whatever you can to get the picture back up now!” Lukas shouted angrily.

“Yes, sir!” Clark said quickly before turning to his computer and drumming the keys like a madman, shouting for someone to ready the large screen at the front of the room.

“What else did they touch?”

“No idea,” Kane said as he glanced at DeWitt’s computer screen. “All other systems are still functional. We just can’t see what’s going on.”

“Can we still command them?” Damian asked.

“Yes,” Battle Marshal Scott said, rubbing his eyes. “But we won’t be able to see the Patriarch’s commands or them carrying out their orders.”

“Sir!” Battle Marshal Madison shouted as the big screen at the front of the room lit up with a satellite view of Montgomery. “They’ve deployed their reserve fighters and are about to engage our Yellow Jackets above Montgomery!”

“No, no, no!” Kane roared.

“Eli, what do we do?” Lukas beckoned, reaching out to grab Eli by the shoulders. The Battle Lord stood there quietly, staring back at Lukas blankly, his mouth twitching though nothing was coming out. Lukas took a deep breath, fighting back the image of Sigmund’s demon lunging for him.

I am the Sovereign,
Lukas thought, taking a deep breath.
One man’s failures will not destroy my empire!

“Damian—relieve the Battle Lord from command!” Lukas roared. “Win me this battle!”

“Yes, my Sovereign,” Damian said, turning to those who rushed about to restore order. “Get those Pulsars auto targeting anything above one hundred feet elevation and deploy the reserve MIGs to engage Sigmund’s fighters. Automate every Yellow Jacket to move low and fast. Assault the column of tanks and cut them off at the mouth of the bridge. I don’t care if we lose every single drone we have. We must stop Sigmund and destroy that bridge!”

“Listen up!” Victor bellowed as the cry of the Patriarch’s jets passed overhead, missiles streaking down into the city toward the Yellow Jackets. “General Mahiri says the Imperium is flying blind for a few minutes. They’ve bought us some time to secure that bridge. What’s the status on new recruits near the bridge?”

“Not good,” Sergeant Hardy answered. “They’re all unarmed civilians and refugees. We lost quite a few after the initial awakening, but we’ve got upwards of one thousand new Recruits within a mile of the bridge. They’re obeying the loud speakers well enough, but they’re confused and have nothing to attack with other than their hands and a few guns.”

“Can we arm them?”

“I don’t know,” Mark replied. “A few Yellow Jackets have cut us off. If we can push through, then maybe.”

“And what of the bridge?”

“It’s still standing,” Will said as he raised his tablet and pulled up the video feed of a drone overhead. “They took out a good chunk but we can still use the unaffected lanes if we can seize it.”

Victor took the tablet and guided the drone closer to the bridge. The last few hundred surviving refugees were running across the broken pavement to the north side of the river. Concrete rubble was scattered about the bridge. A few smoldering cars, an overturned red SUV, and a large semi-truck with smoke billowing from the engine compartment sat motionless on the ground. Victor zoomed in on the semi-truck as a man dragged people from the red SUV that had come to a stop just next to it. He tried to read the side of the long, polished trailer, but the smoke from the cab obscured the image. The smoke cleared for a moment, revealing a red triangle on the back. It almost looked as though….

“We’ve got to move!” Victor roared. “There’s a fuel truck on the bridge waiting to blow. If that thing goes, then so does our bridge. Hardy!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Do we have anymore IRDs available to hit those on the bridge?”

“No sir,” Will replied. “Their ammo was exhausted turning those in the city.”

“Then update the message on the loud speaker for those new Recruits we have turned,” Victor said. “Order everyone to run for the bridge and extinguish the fire on that truck by any means necessary.”

“Sir, the Yellow Jackets might block them off before we get there,” Will replied. “They’ll be slaughtered.”

“Some will make it through if we really have one thousand within a mile,” Victor replied. “And we’ll be there with our tanks in five minutes to support them. Order them to kill anyone who gets in their way. As for us, get ready to move. We’re moving in and hitting those Yellow Jackets at the mouth of the bridge. Now let’s move!”

Rick shook his head as he slowly woke back to reality. He could hear his ragged breathing as his granddaughters wailed in the background. He glanced to his left and watched as Eric pulled Sarah from the vehicle. Judah was outside—blood on his forehead and his rifle raised, pointing back toward the mouth of the bridge. Fear masked the boy’s face as he glanced frantically toward the front of the semi-truck next to them. Rick coughed as a shift in the wind briefly filled the cab with dark smoke before returning back to clean, if somewhat stale, air. If that breeze shifted again and lingered, it could suffocate him and his wife. He had to get her out of there fast. He glanced over at his wife and cleared his throat, ready to shout.

And then he saw her.

She looked so peaceful, even as the dark blood streamed down the side of her face. She displayed no pain, no emotion, nothing but the blank stare forward as her eyes glazed over, staring at nothing.

“Judi,” Rick whispered softly, shaking her lightly. Another wave of smoke entered the cab of the truck. He coughed again, tears forming in his eyes, though he could clearly see his wife’s open gaze didn’t flinch. “Judi….”

Hands grabbed him from behind and tugged at him, but he shrugged them off quickly as he began to yell.

“Oh, God!” Rick shouted, his sanity finally gone. “No! Please God, no!”

“Rick!” Sarah’s voice shouted from the street. “Grab her and—”