Invasion

A whistle blew and he, tiredly, started to walk over to the gates. The aliens had a fairly simple set-up, compared to one of the camps he’d seen while on deployment, but it was backed up by an absolute willingness to kill anyone trying to escape. Some of the SF troops swore that they could get over the wire if the power was cut, but unless the aliens lost their night-vision goggles, they’d just be picked off while still on the wire. Digging a tunnel wasn't possible; they didn’t have anywhere to hide the soil, or even conceal the tunnel entrance. It was a neat little trap…and, so far, all of his escape plans depended on being on the other side of the wire. That wasn't exactly helpful.

The alien who stood at the gate was one of their senior officers, as far as they could tell. Most of the alien soldiers wore their body armour, which several soldiers had sworn could turn aside a shot from an M16, although Pataki had seen several die when they’d been shot through the head, but those that went without the head covering always had a tattoo on their foreheads. This one had the most elaborate tattoo he’d ever seen, a strange spiralling pattern that seemed to cover half of the forehead.

“You are ordered to form one hundred of your people,” the alien said, shortly. They were rarely interested in talking about anything else, even the weather. They hadn’t even bothered to interrogate the prisoners. “Their services are required.”

Pataki nodded, hating himself. They’d tried, at first, to refuse…and the aliens had simply cut off the food supply. Their total indifference had been worse than any hatred, in a way; the aliens would have made use of them had they lived, but it wouldn’t have bothered them if the humans had died. He’d been shot at by insurgents who had screamed their hatred as they had fired, but the aliens were worse…and competent, at that. They had their boot firmly on Texas’s collective neck and showed no inclination to remove it.

“Come on,” he ordered, rounding up the men. He’d had little choice, but to sort them all into groups, despite some muttering about collaboration from the younger men. The aliens hadn’t cared who they’d rounded up either; there were infantrymen, Marines, National Guardsmen and civilians. He’d planned the groups so that there would always be several people who knew Texas with them, just in case there was an opportunity to make a break for it, but so far it hadn’t worked. “I’ll come with you as well.”

The alien guards, silent as ever, escorted them out of the camp. They shackled the humans together and then marched them towards a line of human trucks, driven by other humans. Pataki wondered if he was looking at the first collaborators when he realised that the aliens had thoughtfully handcuffed the drivers to their steeling wheels, just in case they got any ideas about escape. Besides, even if they had broken free, the civilian prisoners had told him that the aliens had a total monopoly on transport. They shot at all human vehicles on sight. The prisoners were escorted into the vehicles, which started off down the road, escorted by a line of alien infantry vehicles.

“Must be serious,” someone commented. A handful of others agreed loudly, shouting insults towards the aliens, who ignored them. It wasn't easy to get an insult across to the aliens if they didn’t understand English. “They’ve got a handful of their tanks escorting us.”

Pataki said nothing. He was too busy trying to see as much as he could of the outside world. There was much more to Texas than just the cities; there were hundreds of towns and villages scattered throughout the countryside. Some of them looked intact and inhabited, others looked deserted and looted and still others looked as if the aliens had used them for target practice. A handful of shots rang out as they passed through a deserted village; the alien tanks returned fire with enthusiasm, but didn’t stop to dismount and root out the insurgents. It didn’t look like a good sign.

Thunder run, he thought grimly. A new series of thunderclaps burst out in the distance. The poor village had just been hammered from orbit. If there were any survivors, they were probably stunned beyond recovery and completely shell-shocked. They don’t have to care about the little people.