Chapter 12
Two dozen cadets were already gathered at the helipad by the time Colt got there. Some were crying. Others looked angry. Most just stood there with blank stares.
He looked around to see if anyone else from Phantom Squad was there and spotted Danielle standing next to Jonas, who was patting her shoulder and speaking to her in hushed tones.
“What happened?” Colt asked.
Danielle turned and looked at him with tears in her eyes. For a moment he thought she was going to say something, but she just shook her head and buried her face in her hands.
“There was another attack,” Jonas said.
“What?”
“A portal opened up over Philadelphia about an hour ago, and it was big enough to let a Class 4 Hydra through—you know, one of the Thule carriers. Anyway, they aren’t sure how many are dead, but it looks worse than Rose Hill.”
“That was ten thousand people.”
“I know,” Jonas said. “They think this might be double.”
Colt felt as though someone had hit him in the chest with a sledgehammer. Twenty thousand people. And if they didn’t do something soon, it was only going to get worse. “Are they sending us to Philly?” he asked.
“We’re still waiting for orders,” Jonas said.
No longer able to hold back, Danielle sobbed openly. Tears streaked her face, and her shoulders shook. Colt placed his arms around her, and she leaned against him. He stroked her hair but offered no words of encouragement. Telling her that everything was going to be all right would only be an empty promise.
More cadets joined them, and soon squads started to form, each distinguishable by its accent color. Jackal had orange insignias on their shoulder pads, chest plates, and helmets. Blizzard was light blue. Lightning was yellow. Anvil was purple. And Phantom was gray.
Besides Colt, Danielle, Stacy, Grey, and Glyph, the other members of Phantom Squad were Pierce, the arrogant blowhard, and Ethan Foley, Grey and Colt’s other roommate, and Jonas. Oz had been part of Phantom Squad before he was expelled, but Superintendent Thorne didn’t replace him. Even though it meant they were short one man, Colt took it as a hopeful sign. Maybe one day she’d let him back.
Most of the cadets milled about the helipad chatting nervously as they waited for orders, but Jackal Squad stood at attention on the periphery as Gulrukh Mirza, their squad leader, inspected their weapons. Colt thought about doing the same, but he was missing a member.
“Anyone see Pierce?”
“There he is,” Ethan said, pointing back toward campus. “Over there with the dog.”
“I don’t think that’s a dog.”
“Agreed, Squad Leader Colt McAlister,” Glyph said.
The creature on the other end of the leash looked more like a wolf than a dog, but its chest was too wide, its snout too short, and its coat was moss green. It loped toward them next to Pierce, taking long strides as it lowered its head to sniff the ground.
“What is that thing?” Jonas asked, taking a step back as the creature sniffed at his feet.
“A genetically altered Malinois.” Pierce smiled as though he was enjoying Jonas’s discomfort. “Her official name is Prototype A-F-6, but I call her Fang.”
“What’s she doing here?” Colt asked.
“She’s part of the Senate Intelligence Committee’s Alien Extermination Initiative. She tracks ’em, we kill ’em.”
“Most aliens do not require tracking or killing, Cadet Pierce Bowen,” Glyph said.
“Whatever. You know what I meant.”
“That doesn’t make it any less offensive. Besides, the vom-eronasal organ in the roof of my mouth makes me eminently more qualified to track scents than the primitive canines on this planet—including your prototype.”
“Get off me!” Jonas shouted. Fang was standing on her hind legs and licking his face.
“Heel!” Pierce yanked on the dog’s collar and she walked over to stand next to him, but her eyes were locked on Jonas.
“She’s a beauty,” said a voice behind them.
They all turned to see a creature that looked like it was part Bigfoot and part robot walking toward them. At well over seven feet tall, its massive body was covered in fur the color of rust. It had broad shoulders, muscles like iron cables, and a second head made out of metal and bolted over its left shoulder. If that wasn’t strange enough, its left arm and right leg had been replaced by mechanical prosthetics, making it look like some kind of freak experiment gone bad.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Pierce said.
“Let’s hope she’s as good in the field as she was in those tests.”
“She will be, sir. Guaranteed.”
Lieutenant Lohr smiled, revealing a wicked set of incisors as his second robotic head turned to stare at the dog. The cadets went quiet. “All right,” he said. “By now most of you have heard that there was a second attack just outside of Philadelphia. Before you start asking questions, I’ll tell you what I know.
“At least one Hydra slipped through the portal, and there are conflicting reports that one and possibly two transports made it through as well. That means we have up to one thousand unwelcome guests causing havoc up and down the Eastern Seaboard.
“Local authorities did their best,” he continued, “but those six-armed lizards made it all the way to New Brunswick before soldiers from the 10th Mountain Division engaged them. They’ve managed to slow them down, but the fighting is still hot and heavy. Reinforcements are on their way from as far away as Fort Bragg and Shaw Air Force Base, but things are a little dicey at the moment.”
“Are we going to New Brunswick?” a cadet from Anvil Squad asked. He was strong, with black hair and matching eyes.
“Next time you interrupt me, Cadet Johnson, you’ll be on skid patrol.”
“Skid patrol, sir?”
“It means you’ll be scrubbing tighty whiteys by hand until your fingernails start to bleed. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Jarrod Johnson on skid patrol? That would be hilarious,” Ethan said.
“You looking to join him?” Lieutenant Lohr asked.
Ethan gulped. “No, sir.”
“That’s what I thought.” Lohr turned back to the rest of the crowd, but his robotic head kept staring at Ethan. “Now, thanks to the stupidity of youth and those fancy battle suits, most of you think you’re invincible. But don’t fool yourselves. War is hell. Do you hear me? I can promise that the second one of those lizards comes charging at you, you’re going to want to ball up in a fetal position and call for your mamas, but there’s only one problem. Your mamas won’t be there to protect you. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” a few of the cadets said in chorus.
“Again!”
“Yes, sir!” they all shouted.
“Better,” Lieutenant Lohr said. “Since most active duty military east of the Mississippi are on the front lines trying to stop those lizards from reaching New York City, we’ve been asked to pick up the slack. I need each squad leader front and center. The rest of you, sit tight. Your rides will be here any minute.”