Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1) (40 page)

      “I don’t know,” Tormodis said irritated.  “Something that goes boom! Tell Margaret to get us a little closer first.”   Roger disappeared again and closed the hatch behind him.  Shortly thereafter the tank pitched forward again, the heavy diesel groaning like a giant lion trying to roar.

   They rumbled forward to within a hundred yards without the slightest indication that the bugs knew they were there.  The sound now was so loud it drowned out the tank engine.  It was getting difficult for the tank to maneuver now because of the larger junks of debris scattered on the road.  Margaret stopped again.  Roger had managed to work out the elevation controls of the big gun, and it started to move up slightly from its depressed mode.  Tormodis watched the mass when he suddenly thought he saw small dark figures emerging from the street a hundred yards ahead.  Without better light it was too difficult to tell.  But, soon the sound of gunfire erupted in an intense barrage onto the mass of spiders and termites, and they began to react to it in a violent and predictable way.

     “Okay, Roger!  Shoot!”  He yelled below as he tried to be heard over the mixture of gunfire, squeals, and roaring.

    “At what?”  Roger replied form below.

     “What do you think?!  The spiders, you idiot!”  He pointed out sharply as if to demonstrate.   He then braced himself for the shot but the seconds rolled by and nothing happened.  “What’s going on!?”  He shouted below.  The shot boomed out of the cannon when he took his guard off, and the shock of it caused him to collapse into the tank banging his helmet and head on the rim of the hatch as he fell.  The tank jerked and rocked with the horrendous boom and Tormodis yelled at the same time, but no one could hear him over the sound.

      Dennis and Pete, armed now with the cast-a-bout weapons of a small third world country, led the band of twelve volunteers out through one of the emergency access tunnels across the street from the Honey Pot.  There were several of these emergency exits scattered about, but Pete chose this one because of its location and that it was most likely free of fallen debris. It would give them a great vantage point to set up a withering defilade into their massed attackers. Dennis pushed the man-hole cover out of the way with no resistance and emerged in a clear zone, away from all of the creatures they were there to destroy. One by one the men silently exited the hole as Dennis and Pete helped each to set up their weapons or get into place.  He distributed the fifty caliber teams evenly among the lighter machine guns, one man on the heavy gun and one ammunition handler.  Every man was sporting an AR or AK along with pistols and a lot of magazines.  They were loaded for bear, ready for an all-out war, or a last ditch stand in the street, whichever came first.  It didn’t take long, however, for the attacking swarm to respond to their presence as if a scent had reached them.  The mass moved as one as it circled the mound of debris agitated and uncertain.  No one balked or flinched or bolted in terror.  They were Island Chamorro, tough, hearty and always in the mood for a good fight.  Pete took the lead and leveled his AR and started with short burst.  Dennis came up beside him with the grenade launcher and started lobbing grenades into the bugs.  Then every man did as he was instructed and the group turned into a firing line that would have made General Chesty Puller proud.  The attack had an almost immediate effect. The grenades went off, the machine gun bursts hit targets and the creatures panicked in sudden confusion.  The mass wreathed about and around as they attempted to flee the incoming rounds.  Pete and his little army kept pouring lead into them, and the bodies dropped in dozens or were blown to pieces. Dennis kept the grenades going from his MK19 automatic grenade launcher.  A volunteer stood beside him holding onto the ammo box to help support it while he fired his M4.  Pete, caught up in the sudden exhilaration of their desperate last stand, didn’t notice the large lumbering machine approaching up the road about a hundred yards to his right.   But moments later when the remarkably loud boom that came from it rolled down the street it completely startled him. The resulting explosion was so near the concussion nearly knocked them all down.

      “Holy mother of..!”  He shouted.  “Incoming!”  He added as he dove for cover onto the street.

      They all scattered to the ground as large chunks of debris kicked up by the hit clattered on the sidewalk around them along with spider parts and goo. The sound of painful squeals pierced the night amid the deafening clambering of the different creatures. The shock of it startled everyone, including the spiders and termites.   Pete looked over at Dennis, who lay nearby on his back gripping the grenade launcher with both hands to his chest.  “Well, I guess der’s your armor, eh brudda!”  Pete yelled at him, smiling.

    “Rabbits!”  Mel cursed under his breath.  The sudden explosion that caught everyone so off guard was working against him now.  The wall of spiders, the solid mass of legs and bodies, was pealing apart.  Smaller groups were fracturing from the whole body looking for avenues of safety and escape from this new unseen threat.  The termites were scattered out from their neat little columns they had been in and were lumbering around confused.  When the automatic weapons fire resumed, the smaller branches of spiders broke off altogether and retreated away from the menace but toward Mel’s position.   He was about to be overrun.

       The burned out car he was hiding behind suddenly didn’t appear to be such a safe spot to stay behind.  His plan of a slow silent and stealthy dash to the Honey Pot’s escape hatch was no longer possible.  He looked rapidly around to find his next move, considering the merits of bolting for the front of the building, making a mad dash toward the sound of the gunfire in hopes of joining up with that group, against a rapid retreat to his fist position in the demolished building across the street.  But, the distance to both was too great now and the open areas in between were quickly filling with mad and terrified bugs.   Retreating didn’t look any better as he was flanked faster than he had time to react to it.  The secret access point behind the Emporium was closer and still his best bet to make it to safety.  He still had the Prime Shield for protection, but he wasn’t sure how long it would hold up to repeated attacks from these things.  It might, or might not, keep him safe and sound.  Putting that notion to the test seemed an unsafe and pointless bet to make so he opted instead for the ‘flee for your life method’ of survival.   He was familiar with this mode of escape, having used it countless times in his past.  But, as he stood and started to run for where the manhole cover was he noticed he was too late. A small group of termites, dazed and confused with no scent trail to follow had accidently stumbled on his position and were encircling him, not sure of what they had found, testing to see what it might do.  This is where Mel realized he was in trouble.  He had no weapon and now nowhere to run and no one to extract him. The termites began to close in on him, their giant pincer jaws snapping in anticipation of this new target.  He looked around frantically hoping for a last minute exit, somewhere to flee, but all avenues were blocked.   He fell back against the car until he could feel its burned steel against his back.  Is this the way, I’m gonna die? Death by termite?  That’s about the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.  He closed his eyes and braced for the attack.  The sound of a portal opening and the squealing of car tires thankfully interrupted his imminent death.

      The blue light blinded Rick the same way it always did.  He had put on a pair of sunglasses for that very purpose but they didn’t help that much.  When it faded, he didn’t wait for his vision to return he simply gunned the engine of the Crown Victoria and sped forward, hoping he didn’t kill someone unlucky enough to be in the way at the time.  The first thing he could tell was that he hadn’t gone blind.  It was dark but that was only because it was night.  He didn’t bother to hit the lights of the car, all the fires burning around him lit things up just fine.  He could make out the blurry image of something big and white just in front of him.  Whatever it was he was sure it wasn’t human.  It was too big and moved the wrong way.  Just for affect he honked the horn and hit the accelerator.  He managed to slam into the termites at 45 miles per hour, the huge beast of a car hitting them like a giant red baseball bat.  Termites exploded all around him and acid rained down on the car.  He hit the brakes just as his vision was starting to return.  There in front of him, hunched up next to a burned out car, was Mel, his hands up in anticipation of an attack and looking very surprised.  Rick grabbed his AR and opened the driver’s side door.  When he stepped out he could see the paint on his car was melting and steaming from the acid dripping down it.  Big spots of bare metal were appeared all over the front.   He stood behind the open door of the Crown Victoria with his AR held up on his right hip, his sun glasses lowered just slightly and looked at Mel in what he was sure was a very smug and irritating way.   He simply said to him, “Anybody need a cab?”  He swung quickly to his right and fired a burst into a termite that was moving.  Mel stood trying to regain his lost composure and shook his head.  He detested needing rescue.  But, he detested sudden disembowelment even more. 

        Another well-placed shot from the Abrams sent the surviving spiders scattering back into the shadows of the side streets, amid the houses and buildings where the shadows could hide them and where they could nurse their wounds.  The exploding shell caused another big crater in the mound of debris and scattered more of the Honey Pot in all directions.  The number of dead spiders and termites was beyond count, but the number of the living was still enough to return to the offensive.

       The tank slowly rolled its way up to the line of men who were staring at it blankly in the thankful surprise.  It rocked to a gentle stop just feet from where Pete and Dennis stood unmoving.   They looked up and met Tormodis’s gaze from his perch in the turret hatch but nothing was said between them.  The meeting, unique as it was, was just a surprise in a long list of surprises they had been through today.   It was enough to acknowledge the tank’s arrival with a slight grin and nod of the head.  Roger, however, had different ideas.  His head popped out of the forward hatch again like some demented child’s toy with an insanely molded grin wide on his face.

        “Pete!  Dennis!”  He shouted.  “I thought you were dead, maybe.”

       Pete shouldered his weapon and smiled.  “You one crazy rat, Rog.”  He said.  “But, we glad to see you, dat for shore.”

     “Hey!”  Tormodis retorted.  “What are we? Decorations?”  He began to extract himself for the hatch and climb down off of the tank.  Margaret turned the big engine off and followed behind him.

      “That depends, bra.”  Pete met his stare with the eyes of hardened experience.  “You get tings done in de streams?”

      “Hey, that’s Mel’s thing.  I’m just the transport.”  Tormodis threw his hands up in disgust.  Margaret was by his side looking around at the results of hell.

       “Speaking of de devil, where he at?  He startin’ to piss me off.”  Pete sounded aggravated at his protégé’s absence.

       “Beats me.”  Tormodis quickly replied. “We left him with Boone tracking things down.”

       “He’ll be here soon,” Margaret said.  “He told us to meet you here.”

       Pete smiled at the sound of Margaret’s melodic and hypnotizing voice.  “We glad to see you again, you sweet ting.”  He quickly grabbed her hand and kissed it.

      Margaret was surprised by the gesture.  “Um, thank you, I guess.”  She struggled to respond.

       Tomodis’s face twisted in irritation.  “Hey!  Watch the paws old man.  That’s the Mrs you’re making a play on.”  He growled back.

      Pete chuckled, and Dennis smiled a thin devious smile.  “Okay, boss.  We’ve got a lull here.  What do you want to do?”  Dennis asked.

      Pete looked around at his meager army, gathering their weapons and checking rounds.  “I tink we need to get below again.  Dese boys done good but chance only go so far.  Wid out de reactor de Prime shields ae down.  We in de open here.”

      Dennis’s look changed to worry.  “You want to button up now?  We’re on the offensive here.  Shouldn’t we press it?  If we pull back, they’ll be back on us in no time and we’ll be right back where we were.”  He explained.

      Pete nodded in agreement.  “Yeah, but the objective was to delay.  Mel he on de way.  We just need to hold out a little longer.  ‘Sides we can’t take dis group into de streets.  De Bugs have de advantage.”

     Dennis shrugged.  “You’re the boss.” He said, and he broke away to round up the rest of the small group and prepare to get back down below.

     “What about the tank?”  Tormodis asked.

      Pete cocked his head slightly.  “Leave it here.  We might be needin’ it again.  Now, let’s get down below.”

      “To where?”  Margaret asked.  “I thought your place was gone.”  She pointed at the remains of the once proud Micronesia Emporium. 

       Pete grinned flirtingly with her again.  “Oh, dat?  Dere’s a lot more downstairs.  Come see.”  He put his arm out, offering to escort her down personally.

      Tormodis grabbed her arm instead and glared at the old man.  “Just show us the way you dirty old hack.”

     No one noticed the lone figure walking away from the rest, the silhouette of a crazy person meandering into the shadows away on his unfathomable mission.