Chapter 52: Manhattan

One thing became readily apparent right away: the military, once it got going, once the right people locked in on what needed to be done, was awe-inspiringly ready to move heaven and earth to achieve their goals.

Jessica did her level best to keep up with the lieutenant colonels, majors, and captains who set up shop in the hotel, a dizzying array of different military branches and special forces, but soon she, too, was sidelined as efficient men and women got to work implementing the new plans.

James grabbed a coffee more for the taste than anything else and eventually just sat on the sidelines with Serenity, watching as the military’s best got to work changing and streamlining their shit. The Blue Light ASOCC was augmented and taken over by a dozen technicians, each connecting to other command centers and relaying orders and updates to hard faced men who stood frowning, assimilating, and updating their own forces.

From what James could gather the changes were subtle but echoed throughout the entire command structure. The basic squad was being locked in at nine members led by a sergeant with two corporals beneath him in charge of three-man detachments. The triad structure the DRC had implemented being adopted so that three squads made a platoon composed of two rifle squads and a weapons squad armed with machine guns and anti-tank weapons.

Groups of three platoons were led by a lieutenant with a second lieutenant aide, and three of those groups composed a company led by a captain. Groups of three companies were led by a major, which made James’s own rank suddenly make sense.

The special forces guys did their own internal arranging but were small and nimble enough that it didn’t warrant much discussion.

A Navy Seals officer approached James. The man was compact, square jawed, his brow beetling over slate blue eyes. He had the air of eagles about him, a restrained ferocity that made it impossible to imagine him doing anything but commanding men in the heat of battle.

“Major Kelly? Master Chief Petty Officer Berry.”

The man’s presence made it impossible to remain seated on the edge of the stage, so James slid off and straightened. Was a Master Chief Petty Officer ranked higher than a major? James had no clue. Should he salute?

Berry didn’t give him a chance.

“I wanted to introduce myself. I’m in charge of the Navy Seals presence here on the ground. Congratulations on your accomplishments. It’s my understanding that you’re responsible for most of the discoveries we’ve made about synergies and the demon hives.”

It didn’t sound like a question, so James just nodded.

“Do you know if these synergies extend beyond the squad level? Can kill benefits flow from squad to squad if arranged correctly, or up to command officers?”

James blinked, glanced at Serenity who just shrugged, then shook his head. “That’s an excellent question, ah, sir. I’ve no idea.”

“Guess we’ll find out,” said Serenity, significantly less impressed with Berry’s presence.

“Fair enough.” The man studied James, clearly assessing him, and then gave a curt nod. “Appreciate your time.”

“What was that about?” asked Serenity as Berry walked away.

“I don’t know.” James sipped his coffee. “But I’m glad that dude’s on our side.”

Blue Light operatives showed up, wary and intimidated to varying degrees by the large military presence in the lobby and ASOCC corner. Once they reached a critical mass, around 7 A.M., James took to the stage.

“Fourth Wave today, boys and girls.” He grinned grimly at the sea of faces. “We’re going to repeat what we did before, and today we should see some real fireworks. The military’s got our backs - which makes sense, seeing as how we’re military ourselves now - and we’re setting up to be ready for the millions of Nemesis 2’s that will be coming our way. We’re having ammo flown in, they’re fortifying the approaches to the hives, and bringing in several thousand more troops to cycle through and level up.”

People listened, sober and focused. James outlined Richard’s plan, how each team would level at least one individual to the next mysterious rank and then cycle in the other squads.

“We’re not sure exactly how many demons will be coming at each symbol, but it could range from 50,000 to 100k. Divided by eight approaches, and we’ll be facing anywhere from eight to ten thousand demons each. That’s a lot of killing, but we’ve seen how the Ma Deuce’s can chew threw them. Today’s the day we really level up. Today’s the day we show the Monitor’s they can’t steamroll us. That they can throw literal hell at us and we’ll meet it with an endless storm of 50 Cals.”

Olaf over with Crimson Hydra raised his hand. “How much ammo does the army have? This is a lot of demons.”

The whole crowd looked over to the ASOCC where the officers stood in a disparate group. A lieutenant-colonel smiled. “The US Army alone has over ten billion rounds stockpiled, with a shelf-life of up to thirty years. We’ll be able to hold our own for a while yet.”

“Outstanding,” said James, hearing Hackworth in his ear. “So listen, today’s all about getting in place and getting ready. The Fourth Wave is hitting just past midday. We want everyone in place by ten. That means we have two and a half hours to get set up. We’re heading out in fifteen. Grab your gear, grab water, and move out with your teams. Clear?”

A thousand heads nodded yes.

“Then let’s go get some.”

James hopped off the stage, turned off the mike, and tossed it onto the stage. Reached down to heft his fire-axe and headed over to Crimson Hydra.

A definite sense of team was starting to form amongst them. Becca and Bjørn stood beside each other, and while neither gave any overt sign of affection for each other, something intangible about the energy between them made James sure they’d gotten it on.

Olaf and Joanna were standing beside each other too, though there was still something more playful and innocent about that pairing; Joanna was laughing at something the viking had just said under his breath, pretending to be scandalized even as Olaf grinned wolfishly at her.

Denzel, Yadriel, and Jason filled out the rest of the ranks, Jason and Denzel chatting as Yadriel stood off to one side.

James smiled as he walked up. “All right guys, we ready to roll?”

Becca raised her Bushmaster and propped it over one shoulder. “Nothing I love more than rhetorical questions.”

“Ready, sir,” said James.

“Ready sir,” imitated Yadriel with subtle scorn.

Jason rounded on the hooded kid. “You got a problem, son?”

“No problem.” Yadriel met his gaze openly. “Just admiring your… what’s the polite word for it…”

Serenity rolled her eyes. “Can we leave the high school bitchiness behind? We’re literally heading out to kill demons. Head in the game?”

“Yes ma’am,” said Jason, turning back.

Yadriel muttered then fell quiet.

“Today’s going to be intense,” said James. “We need to be there for each other. Not just for leveling purposes, but other than Becca and Jason, ain’t none of us professional soldiers. We’re not built for mass slaughter. When shit gets intense, we need to know we’re there for each other.”

“I’m ready for mass slaughter,” muttered Yadriel.

Serenity rolled her eyes even more dramatically. “Jesus Christ, Yadriel. Can we drop the crazy school shooter act already?”

“C’mon.” James rode over the friction smoothly. “We’re Crimson Hydra. We there for each other?”

“Yes,” said Olaf stoutly. “I will stand beside all of you in battle with pride.”

If anybody else had said that James would’ve thought they were fucking with him, but Olaf’s blue eyes shone with sincerity.

“Same,” said Joanna. “Few things make sense right now, but this, people coming together, this is what we do best. I’m there for all of you.”

Jason gave a sharp nod. “Hooah.”

Bjørn smiled and inclined his head. “Absolutely. Crimson Hydra all the way.”

“You know it,” said Becca, her smile predatory. “Now can we go kill some Nem2’s?”

“You guys are all so sweet,” said Serenity. “I’d hate to see you die. I got your backs.”

“Let’s do it,” said James.

James couldn’t tell if he was imagining it, but the streets of Brooklyn seemed to thrum with new energy. Helicopters roared overhead; army trucks rolled down avenues that’d been cleared of the abandoned cars. People leaned out of windows, having been notified to stay home, and occasionally cheered them on.

You are reading story Dawn of the Void at novel35.com

“I could get used to this,” said Serenity. “Pity we can’t stay here and enjoy it.”

“Yeah.” They were riding in the back of a truck, all nine seated and facing each other, rumbling toward Manhattan.

Manhattan. That urban jungle, a forest of skyscrapers gleaming and glittering under the wintry sun. Six demonic symbols gleamed in the air above the city, these floating even higher than their peers, thousands of feet up but hanging just above the tallest scrapers.

His world had shrunk to just Brooklyn, James realized, even as he’d known on some theoretical level that shit was going down in the other boroughs. But the other three - Staten, Queens, the Bronx - had been roughly similar to the Brooklyn situation. Symbols floating over intersections or three- or four-story buildings.

Manhattan was a different story.

Sure, two of the symbols along the Upper East Side hovered over intersections, but the rest, especially Midtown, were high above the towers, and the Nem2’s had built their flesh fortresses within the top floors of those buildings, capturing the thousands of residents within. But nobody had climbed to the higher floors to see what the Nem2’s were doing with the bodies, and the windows had been darkened by their magical darkness.

“They should just blow the top off each building with Hellfire missiles,” said Jason dourly.

“Great idea,” said Becca. “Where do you think all that debris would go?”

“That and the Nem2’s would just build their fortress on the next few levels down,” said Bjørn reasonably. “Unless we destroyed the entire building, and then they’d probably just build upon the rubble.”

“Then blow that up, too,” said Jason. “Just keep wasting them till they give up.”

“That’s one approach,” said Becca. “Perhaps not the best.”

“Better than trying to hold off the Nem2’s from just four avenues of approach,” said Jason, sitting back.”

“That’s why they’re bringing me in,” said Serenity. “I’ve finally been recognized for the miracle and gift from god that I’ve always been.”

“Sure,” said Becca with a lazy smile. “Let’s call it that.”

“Don’t get mad,” said Serenity. “It’s not my fault you didn’t end up with Deadeye.”

Denzel leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “We sure this is gonna work? Everyone else is dividing their enemies by eight approaches. How we going to handle four?”

“A lot of ammo,” said Serenity. “As long as they keep feeding belts into my Ma Deuce, I’ll take care of them.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Denzel, “but yo, that’s like - what - twenty-thousand coming just for us?”

“Maybe more,” said Yadriel. “Remember, Manhattan’s got like, the greatest population density, right? They ain’t going to catch the bus to another borough.”

“That’s also why they’re doubling us up,” said James. “Twice as many guns for twice as many Nem2’s. It’ll even out.”

His words hung in the air, and while nobody contradicted him, nobody looked all that confident, either.

The truck rumbled through Brooklyn, and finally crossed the ancient Brooklyn Bridge. James watched the slanting support wires slide past out the back of the truck, the wheels thrumming on the road beneath, the tenor of their sound subtly changing.

And then they were in Manhattan.

Practically a foreign country. He’d heard about how it used to be in the ‘70s, when the economy was crashing and the mayor had asked the president for help. When entire blocks were practically abandoned and set on fire for insurance money, when riding the subway was a dangerous adventure, when everything seemed apocalyptic and end-times.

Now - or up until a week ago - it had seemed completely different. Polished up, clean, with brand name stores popping up everywhere and replacing the holdouts from yesteryear. The old bars, the quirky shops, the second-hand bookstores, the family restaurants. The few times James had wandered in, he’d felt unwelcome, and hadn’t seen much to convince him to stay. It had felt like an endless series of Starbucks and Duane Reade and fusion cuisine restaurants and the like.

All the old personality being scrubbed away by the imperious and impersonal forces of corporate globalism.

But that was last week.

Sirens sounded in the distance. Honking. The truck slowed, stopped, accelerated a little, stopped.

Traffic.

Which felt so delightfully mundane.

Until the abrupt chatter of a machine-gun somewhere killed any notion of normalcy.

They rode in silence, everyone staring out the back. The broad avenues were one way, and a corridor had been forced up the center of each between abandoned cars that had been brutally shoved to the sides, their doors crumpled, windows shattered. Traffic lights still changed colors, unheeded, and there was little other than military traffic on the road.

Along the sidewalks, however, James saw crowds of people hurrying along, navigating the wrecked cars, carrying bags, boxes, or suitcases.

Leaving? Moving in with friends?

He’d no idea.

Trash overflowed the corners. Here and there it looked like a car had been burned out, the wreck little more than blackened metal.

Looked like things were backsliding into the ‘70s.

Finally the truck stopped and they heard the great yank of the hand break being pulled. As one they seemed to exhale and come back to life.

A solider lowered the tailgate, and everybody spilled out into the intersection. The army had been hard at work laying down sandbags and metal siding with which to form improvised defensive positions, with two Ma Deuce’s looking down East 33rd Street and three others angled to look down Fifth Avenue.

James turned in a slow circle, taking in the city. The blocky ten or twelve story buildings looked small compared to the high rises, their faces uniform and elegant, their ground floors boasting bank branches, pizzerias, and a length of walkway under scaffolding as work was done above on the facade.

Fifth Ave was five lanes wide, though with the abandoned cars it had been reduced to three. East 33rd was just the one with broad shoulders, but this had been rendered impassable by cars.

Slender, improbably green trees grew along both shoulders of 5th Ave, and James got that unmistakable feeling of being deep in the heart of the city: each street and avenue seemed to recede forever toward the horizon, the high rises growing ever closer together, the farthest ones faded and misty blue like mountain ranges. The air was fresh, crisp, with a distinct tang of spilt oil and garbage.

Six squads were already in position, all of them inspecting Crimson Hydra with varying degrees of curiosity. The intersection was massive enough that the fifty men seemed a sparse crowd behind the sandbags and metal sidings.

James gave a two-finger salute, half-ironically, and the closest men saluted right back, which still surprised him.

“Will you look at that,” sighed Serenity.

James turned. She was staring behind and almost straight up, taking in the building they were going to defend.

The home of a demon hive.

James craned his neck to get a full view.

Rising taller than any other building, its sides striped with soft gray stone and blue windows, elegant, iconic, massive, was the Empire State building.

And far above it, burning, ever burning, spun the demon symbol, calling the millions of Nem2 to war.

You can find story with these keywords: Dawn of the Void, Read Dawn of the Void, Dawn of the Void novel, Dawn of the Void book, Dawn of the Void story, Dawn of the Void full, Dawn of the Void Latest Chapter