The Martians… They have come and gone… America was now in ruins. Sometimes scouts would come by, rummaging through the rubble I am one of the survivors… It was horrible. Each day I feel like I want to wake up from some terrible nightmare.
I am walking through the rubbles of a military base in Irvine. Searching for… Searching for anything we can use; guns, ammo, supplies, anything. I and my team salvaged anything we could find.
Our scouts reported they were somewhere at the east coast, getting ready to invade Europe. We know they sure need whatever help they can get. We were planning to do quick raids on their bases. They are strong but sure hell they don't know how to hide their fat asses. They somehow built shields that protected them from diseases. We made several attempts to penetrate their huge bubbles.
Bad news: penetrating them was harder than we thought.
Good news: a cough would kill them.
What would be able to penetrate those damn shields was, well, a diamond tube. We had a one inch diamond tube and we tried it on one of their smaller bases; their bigger bases? Well, we're going to have a problem with that.
We gathered all we could from here. We stored it on our trucks and road away into the nearest bunker. (Underground sewers except with a huge friggen five inch thick titanium doors.) Wasn't much, but it was something.
"Oh no."
I ran off the truck. The bunker, it was burning. The Martian already got to it.
"Damn those bastards!"
One of my soldiers was crying.
"My sister! She was in there! My wife too!" He took his gun and aimed it at his head.
"NO MARK! NO!" I was too late. He pulled the trigger. His brains splattered all over the ground.
I sighed. The rest of my platoon wore grim faces.
"Move out! We go for the nearest safe house. Just hope they can't read out maps."
We drove down the street. Five jeeps and two trucks in total, twenty eight people in my team. The "safe house" was a bank with a bomb shelter. We rigged it up with security and booby traps. Just then… the ground shook.
I signaled them to stop. The last two trucks was actually make-shift portable artillery. Wasn't as strong as a howitzer but, it has to do. They began arming themselves with rock-launchers and any explosives they could get. A tripod came into view. It looked weak and was staggering. (Scoffs) must have been out too long.
We fired. It staggered to the right before facing us. The two artillery trucks hit bull's eye at the "face" of the tripod. Yep, I trained them to aim that good. The trick was to lean the cannon at the right places. We heard people screaming from it. What? A sick tripod carrying people, what the hell?
"Shoot at the head! Careful not to hit the civilians! If you do, I'll have your liver for dinner!" We all know that this was too true. That certainly got their attention.
The tripod was staggering forward and backward. One guy was actually blowing on it hoping it would fall backward. (Scoffs) Like THAT would do anything.
It fell backwards.
Well, what do you know? We had two guys cut the nets using "burners". When we had each and every one of them out I told them.
"Each able-body man and women must come with me! Ages 14-50! We will give you your equipment once we are back at one of our major bunkers. You are required for to serve for one year! We will provide you with food and shelter!" Some people cried with relief, some people just cried…
I had two platoons off their trucks. They ferried what people they could carry to the safe house while we stayed behind to guard the others. The sun was setting. I was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigar; my eyes staring at the star-filled sky. Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a morning.
Well? Tell me what you think!
