Age of Monsters by John Schneider (books to read for self improvement .TXT) 📗

Pterosaurs.  Flying dragons.  Winged dreadnoughts that blotted out the sky.

Lucas looked down at the demolished fleet.

There was no way not to see it – this was coordination.

Where the hell was THAT coming from?

He veered in to join the formation of surviving fighters, shouting out his call-sign.

“Skywalker, here, sir,” he said.  “And I've got a bad feeling about this.”

Chapter 28

Rosa could see it all from shore.  In the space of minutes, the entire Pacific Fleet had been obliterated.

The eruption from below was like a fleet of submarines breaking surface – fired with the impact of a torpedo – giant torpedoes with teeth.

Rosa heard Julie gasp, holding up her hands to hide the sight.  Privates Barnes and Jones stared slack-jawed.

All at once, the Pacific was simultaneously on fire, even as the ocean itself seemed to rise up in a deluge.

In the air above, Rosa could see the fighters that escaped, circling.

And soaring in from overhead, she also saw the cloud of flying dragons.

They moved after the fighters like bats after insects – feeding on the wing.

Humanity's counter-offensive was bare-minutes old and it had already been decimated.

Rosa, however, realized that there was a more immediate danger.

“Everybody get out here!” she shouted suddenly into the tent.  “Everybody!  Now!”

Her tone was convincing.  Jeremy was already on his feet with his gun, pulling Jamie along with him, nearly tripping over Bud and Allison.  Bob and Daryl were likewise armed and ready, as they crowded through the tent-flaps.

For a split second, they all stood transfixed at the sight of the burning ocean.

But Rosa was shouting in their ears.  “We've got to get out of here.  Now!”

She was already moving towards the two parked jeeps, pulling Private Jones by the arm.

“We're at sea-level,” she said, pointing at the beach.

The surf was pulling back.

How many million tons had just been detonated right off the coast?

The equal and opposite displacement of water was on its way.

Private Jones' eyes widened in realization.  “Oh shit!”

As a group, they bolted for the jeeps.

“Hurry!” Rosa said, smacking Jones on the head, in good Lieutenant Walker style, even as the soldier fumbled for his keys.

Jones gunned the jeep's engine – behind him, Barnes revved the second – and both vehicles peeled out onto the dirt road.

Had they not been sequestered near the rear of the base, already up on the hill, it might have been different – they might have been caught in the confused uproar – people were still reacting to the erupting inferno out on the water – not to mention the incoming aerial assault of flying-dragons – and they hadn't yet realized the more imminent peril.

Rosa tried to shout out a warning.

“Tsunami!!” she screamed out the side, “Get to high-ground!”

Private Jones took her lead and started broadcasting over his speakers – his siren blaring.  “Retreat to high-ground.  Tsunami warning.  Get to high-ground.”

But as they passed overhead, Rosa saw the alarm was already too late – too many on foot, already crowding the make-shift roads.

She remembered the young tsunami-survivor she had treated – he'd said the wave had been on him in seconds.

Rosa shut her eyes, unable to watch.

The two jeeps were just cresting the hill when the incoming wave hit the beach.

It washed over the entire base in a matter of moments.

Rosa saw no other vehicles that made it out.

And the wave was closing on them fast – the wall of water came at them as if they weren't even moving, bearing down like a freight train.

The ramp up to the highway was just ahead.

Jones at the wheel sent them skidding around the final curves up the hillside – Rosa could feel the jeep leaning tantalizingly into the turn, ready to send them tumbling like dice.  Private Barnes, hot on their tail, likewise tipped for one precarious moment, leaning over the drop-off.

Both rigs shot out onto the highway just as the wave broke on the cliff just below.

The surf crashed against rocks, tossing spray and foam over their windows, and both vehicles skidded to a stop, drenched and blinded.

For a moment, Rosa thought they were going to be pulled back anyway – just washed right back into the ocean.

But the wave broke against the rocks.

As quickly as it came, the water receded, pulling the wreckage of the base back with it, washing it all out to sea.

Her legs shaking, drenched and battered, Rosa pulled the door latch, nearly tripping out onto the street.

She looked down where the base had stood.  She squinted her eyes, looking for any survivors.

Above them, there was the sound of guns and missile-fire as the aerial battle – one-sided as it was – was engaged.

Rosa had a strange doubling back as the small group of them stood, their eyes turning between the burning ocean below and the exploding skies above – another childhood memory –  her family watching fireworks, camped high up on the hill.

Everywhere was fire.  It was hypnotic.  For long moments, nobody moved, nobody spoke.

The silence was finally broken by Jeremy, his shoulders squared in an unconscious parody of Lieutenant Walker.

“Well,” he said, “that fucked us.  What the hell do we do now?”

Rosa turned to Privates Jones and Barnes, who both shrugged.  Jones pulled out his radio.

“Private Jones to anybody.  Anybody out there at all?”

The answer back was static.

“Well,” Jones said mildly, “this is getting close to as bad as it can get.”

And as if in response, just over their shoulders, from the heavily-forested ridge above the highway, there came the sound of a creaking, collapsing tree – followed by a loud and belligerent, bellowing roar.

They all turned to the hillside behind them.

Pushing through the trees was an Allosaurus.