Read Online Out of the Black (Odyssey One, Book 4) by Evan Currie - Free Book Online
Authors: Evan Currie
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Confederate city.
When he spotted a grouping of the aliens emerging from the tree line south of him, however, he decided to up the ante just a little. Eric slid the power control up a few more degrees and kept his aim lower so he wouldn’t take out a building or something with a miss. He then squeezed down on the trigger and unloaded a burst into the enemy position that seemed to shake the
world
.
CHAPTER THREE
National Guard Command Post,
Intrepid
Sea, Air, & Space Museum
“WHAT THE EVER loving
fuck
was that?”
The mushroom cloud floating over the city to the north of them gave a pretty good answer to that question, honestly, but it just felt like something Brigadier Potts needed to ask.
“Was that one of ours?”
“Negative sir,” Lieutenant Keiths could confidently answer. “Nothing of ours was cleared to drop that kind of payload, sir.”
“Do we have anyone in the area?” Potts asked, sick to his stomach.
Or maybe I should ask if we
did
have anyone in the area
. . .
“No one close enough, sir. No one too close, either.”
“Thank God for the second.”
“Yes sir. General, sir, I’m not reading any significant EM spike, no beta spike, no gamma spike. I don’t think that was a nuke, sir.”
“Well, that’s just peachy,” Potts growled. “It was still one big ever living
fuck
of an explosion.”
“Yes sir.”
Potts sighed, shaking his head. His boys just weren’t equipped for this kind of dirty fighting. They were old-school open battlefield trained, and this was urban street-to-street combat well beyond anything anyone had ever seen. The tanks and armor they had packed more than enough power for the job, but a hundred-ton tank wasn’t intended for driving through a damned city.
“Get me eyes on the area,” he ordered. “I don’t care if it’s from the ground, the sky, or orbit. Just get me something.”
“Yes sir.”
Eric would have been spitting dirt out of his mouth if he weren’t wearing powered armor with a full environmental seal. Assuming, that is, that he’d survived the concussion of the kinetic strike. As it was, he wiped said dirt off the face plate and double checked the setting on his GWIZ.
Only three-quarters to the top. Holy hell, are the Prims really
that
fucking crazy?
Central Park was flattened.
Or at least it was in the immediate area. Eric could see some trees still standing a few blocks down from his position, and behind him they were still intact to be sure. But where he’d taken his show was now an oblong crater beyond which a ring of trees were laid down like toppled dominoes. He examined the scene for a long moment, stunned by every detail he spotted, particularly when he happened to focus in on a building several blocks beyond the blast zone and spotted an immobile Drasin soldier drone embedded in the eighth floor.
Jesus. Crazy bastards
.
Eric slowly and deliberately turned the dial back down to the halfway mark before he turned and leapt off to the east where Lyssa had run ahead of him.
Lyssa was spitting out dirt as she picked herself up off the ground, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes and a horror-filled expression. She didn’t know what had just happened, but a mushroom cloud was pretty much a universal sign of an atrocity. She felt a wave of relief when she spotted Weston’s black-green armor bounding over in her direction, and got to her feet to greet him as he landed.
“What the hell was that?”
She wasn’t expecting Eric Weston to chuckle nervously, looking for all the world like a schoolboy caught doing something he knew he should be punished for.
“Oops?”
“Oops??
Oops??
” she demanded, pointing toward the collapsing cloud of dust and smoke, “
You
did that?”
“Prim guns pack a bigger punch than I thought.”
She stared, wide-eyed, at the weapon he was still holding. “What did you do?”
“Turned up the power,” he said, “about three-quarters to the top.”
Lyssa closed her eyes, her knees
When he spotted a grouping of the aliens emerging from the tree line south of him, however, he decided to up the ante just a little. Eric slid the power control up a few more degrees and kept his aim lower so he wouldn’t take out a building or something with a miss. He then squeezed down on the trigger and unloaded a burst into the enemy position that seemed to shake the
world
.
CHAPTER THREE
National Guard Command Post,
Intrepid
Sea, Air, & Space Museum
“WHAT THE EVER loving
fuck
was that?”
The mushroom cloud floating over the city to the north of them gave a pretty good answer to that question, honestly, but it just felt like something Brigadier Potts needed to ask.
“Was that one of ours?”
“Negative sir,” Lieutenant Keiths could confidently answer. “Nothing of ours was cleared to drop that kind of payload, sir.”
“Do we have anyone in the area?” Potts asked, sick to his stomach.
Or maybe I should ask if we
did
have anyone in the area
. . .
“No one close enough, sir. No one too close, either.”
“Thank God for the second.”
“Yes sir. General, sir, I’m not reading any significant EM spike, no beta spike, no gamma spike. I don’t think that was a nuke, sir.”
“Well, that’s just peachy,” Potts growled. “It was still one big ever living
fuck
of an explosion.”
“Yes sir.”
Potts sighed, shaking his head. His boys just weren’t equipped for this kind of dirty fighting. They were old-school open battlefield trained, and this was urban street-to-street combat well beyond anything anyone had ever seen. The tanks and armor they had packed more than enough power for the job, but a hundred-ton tank wasn’t intended for driving through a damned city.
“Get me eyes on the area,” he ordered. “I don’t care if it’s from the ground, the sky, or orbit. Just get me something.”
“Yes sir.”
Eric would have been spitting dirt out of his mouth if he weren’t wearing powered armor with a full environmental seal. Assuming, that is, that he’d survived the concussion of the kinetic strike. As it was, he wiped said dirt off the face plate and double checked the setting on his GWIZ.
Only three-quarters to the top. Holy hell, are the Prims really
that
fucking crazy?
Central Park was flattened.
Or at least it was in the immediate area. Eric could see some trees still standing a few blocks down from his position, and behind him they were still intact to be sure. But where he’d taken his show was now an oblong crater beyond which a ring of trees were laid down like toppled dominoes. He examined the scene for a long moment, stunned by every detail he spotted, particularly when he happened to focus in on a building several blocks beyond the blast zone and spotted an immobile Drasin soldier drone embedded in the eighth floor.
Jesus. Crazy bastards
.
Eric slowly and deliberately turned the dial back down to the halfway mark before he turned and leapt off to the east where Lyssa had run ahead of him.
Lyssa was spitting out dirt as she picked herself up off the ground, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes and a horror-filled expression. She didn’t know what had just happened, but a mushroom cloud was pretty much a universal sign of an atrocity. She felt a wave of relief when she spotted Weston’s black-green armor bounding over in her direction, and got to her feet to greet him as he landed.
“What the hell was that?”
She wasn’t expecting Eric Weston to chuckle nervously, looking for all the world like a schoolboy caught doing something he knew he should be punished for.
“Oops?”
“Oops??
Oops??
” she demanded, pointing toward the collapsing cloud of dust and smoke, “
You
did that?”
“Prim guns pack a bigger punch than I thought.”
She stared, wide-eyed, at the weapon he was still holding. “What did you do?”
“Turned up the power,” he said, “about three-quarters to the top.”
Lyssa closed her eyes, her knees
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