Author’s Note:
Okay, here’s the lengthened and strengthened Chapter 38. Finally.
For those of you who haven’t read any of the Journey Of St. Laurent before: You are now reading an online serial pulp novel. If you didn’t start at the beginning, you may want to do so. Chapter 1: Down By The Bay. This serial is the sequel to my first novel, Oasis.
The UFO was similar in shape to the others I had seen, but somehow more sinister. The main triangular body was an almost painfully reflective silver. Spaced around the base were several half spheres. They were bright red with gold flecks and their surface shifted and morphed as the craft rose in the air.
The camp machine gunner stayed strong and kept the barrel trained on the invader. Fire and lead spewed up into the sky.
Sparks and shrapnel carved a messy line on the UFO as the heavy bullets tore into its shell.
Can it really be doing that much damage? Why isn’t it flying any higher?
One of the glowing half spheres on the alien ship flashed.
The machine gunner was crumpled in half and launched upward and back toward the camp. His arms and legs flopped as his body spun through the air. Either his clothes or his corpse burst into flame just before I lost sight of it.
One side of the UFO dipped a few feet. Several of the half spheres flashed in rapid succession. I couldn’t tell exactly what the aliens hit, but fire jumped into the sky all over the place.
I instinctively dropped to my knees and tugged on London’s shirt.
She understood and flung herself down with me in a kneeling huddle. We weren’t under any kind of cover, but it felt safer to be low to the ground.
Then as if on queue, everyone in camp that could heft a firearm pulled the trigger at once and sent up a thundering wave of lead.
The deafening gunpowder chorus rattled my teeth and shook my eyes.
I spared a glance up.
The UFO had passed over the hill and was now over one end of the camp, but it was clearly in trouble. Every visible metal surface was speckled with holes. It wobbled and shook in the air. Two or three of the half spheres had burst, spraying a glowing red liquid on the ground.
The ragtag group of survivalists continued to pump ammunition into the floating silver beast.
Wherever the red liquid fell, flames jumped skyward.
The remaining red spheres flashed like massive cameras at a concert. Fires erupted all around. Everything the aliens hit caught fire.
The dogged survivalists just kept pulling their triggers and reloading.
I don’t know whether it was the internal damage or the added physical weight of all the thousands of bullets from the camp, but the UFO couldn’t take any more and came crashing out of the air.
I’m certain there was screaming from the crowd, but my ears were ringing too loudly to hear it.
The immense craft slammed into the camp, shattering the remaining half spheres. The ground shook enough that if I hadn’t already been kneeling, I might have fallen. Dirt and shrapnel spewed into the air. The spilled red liquid set fire to everything near it. I was a good thirty yards back and the temperature where I was jumped at least fifteen degrees.
London stood and pulled me up, too.
The lusty thrill of victory breezed through my body for a moment. It chased off by an injection of icy horror when I looked around and saw the damage the crash had done.
The UFO had fallen in the middle of the camp, crushing who knows how many people. What was left of the craft’s metal skin glowed white hot. Fires raged around the camp.
There was a massive hole on the top of the downed craft.
I wondered if the army had hit it with a rocket propelled grenade or something. Maybe that’s why it came in so low. Maybe it had to. The stench of gunpowder, melting plastic, and burning flesh tore into my nostrils.
It had been a vain hope to think that this band of patriots could make any real stand against the aliens.
How many ships did they have? We were lucky to have brought that one down. Any if the military hadn’t been near the entrance to soften it up, we might never have even had a shot. We only would have experienced fire raining down.
I wondered why we hadn’t seen any more alien craft yet. Had the military managed to seal the entrance? My thoughts drifted down to the little vial in my cargo pocket. If the aliens were even temporarily stuck, then right now might be the only chance anyone would ever have to infect them all at once.
A man limped toward the first aid station. Nasty burns covered his left arm and leg.
London ran up and helped him support his good side.
Where did that idiot in charge of the first aid go?
I moved for the boxes of supplies and saw him sitting with his legs crossed just staring off into space. Worthless.
“Corbin, a little help here?”
“Can you get him to the cot over there? I’ll see if there’s something we can use.”
London grunted and changed course.
I emptied the box onto the table and found some gauze for the burned man as well as a handful of what I was really looking for. Syringes.I them in the cargo pocket of my pants that didn’t contain the virus. Then I picked up three or four rolled up sterile bandage packages.
We sat the burned man down onto the cot and eased him onto his right side. I looked over the damage from top to bottom.
Third degree burns ran down the side of his left arm from the shoulder to the back of the hand. Several patches of skin were charred and cracked. The open wounds seeped a little blood.
His leg was similar but worse. Some of the synthetic material of his pants had melted and fused with the blackened skin. The cracks were deeper on the thigh, exposing layers of skin, fat and just a hint of muscle. Shrapnel may have taken a chunk there.
Heat from the UFO’s strange weapon and the ensuing fires had seared most of the veins closed and there was none of the tell-tale spurting that comes with arterial bleeding.
Even without serious bleeding he was still in trouble. Lots of open wounds to attract infection, and like a lot of serious burn victims, he’d be at risk for major dehydration. Plus, if the aliens did mount a second attack soon, there’d be no way to get him to safety.
We’re beyond screwed if another attack hits soon. I frowned at the thought.
I sent London to dig through the other boxes to see if she could come up with some gloves and painkiller.
The guy who had bragged of his elite first aid skills was still zoned out. I looked back at London. Amazing how she’s keeping it together.
I asked the injured man a few questions and he was surprisingly lucid for someone in that much pain. He knew his name, where his was, and even seemed pretty sure about the date.
London returned with a box of nitrile gloves and a big jar of Advil.
The man groaned. “How bad is it?”
I sucked in a breath through my nose and snapped on a pair of gloves. “If we can keep you hydrated, and keep you from going into shock, and get you somewhere safe relatively soon, you’ll recover.”
Technically, it wasn’t a lie. They were just pretty big “if”s.
I asked London to gently-as-she-could lift his arm and I’d bandage it.
She mouthed to me, “Aren’t you going to clean it?”
I tore open one of the bandage packages and looked the man in the eye. “We don’t have anything to clean out your burns, and now isn’t the time, anyway. It’s more important to keep as much of this dust out as we can and to do what we can to prevent dehydration.”
I wrapped his arm as loosely as I dared starting at the bicep. “This bandage is going to be annoying, but you keep it on until you are somewhere safe and clean, you’ve got plenty of time, and someone to help you, do you understand?”
He winced and nodded.
“And you rest and drink water like crazy until you’ve got a layer of skin growing back. You do what I say and you’ll have some pretty wicked scars, but you might live to show them off.”
I didn’t have water on hand, but he was able to swallow the painkiller pills anyway.
“Now comes the really crappy part, your leg. You ready?”
London knelt down and put both arms under his leg to lift it up. She turned her head to the side to avoid the sight and smell of the burned leg as best she could.
I didn’t bother trying to pull or cut away the pants from the burn wounds. No sense in causing any more bleeding than necessary.
By the time we had finished bandaging his leg, there was a group of ten or so people rifling through the supplies on the table and waiting to be treated. I knew there were probably dozens more lying in the dirt around camp as well.
There was no way we could help them all, even if we had the time. The badly injured were sure to be all spread out around the camp. It made any kind of useful triage impossible. To make it worse, I’d be out of useful supplies in about three minutes anyway. I’ve always hated that feeling.
I pulled off the gloves and tossed them on the ground by the burned man we had just helped.
“London, we have a problem.”
She scanned the wreckage and then looked back at me. There was already a tear hanging on her cheek. “I know. There’s no way we can help everyone.”
“And if we’re going to attempt to deliver this virus to the aliens, then now is the time.”
London closed her eyes and nodded. “It’s why we came here. How do you think we can do it?”
“I’m not exactly sure where-”
“Oh good, you’re here.” A breathless Rhett grabbed my shoulder. “Jex has been hit. He’s bleeding pretty bad.”
He turned and ran back toward the command tent.
London and I chased after him.
Keep reading! Chapter 39 is here!
