Page 116 of The Gathering
One by one, the pickups eased into place, engines low.
Bishop eyed the long brick buildings, black against the predawn. He spotted a playground past the fence. Frozen. Like the world no longer cared that children existed.
Anvil appeared at his window and he rolled it down. “Buses are staged,” he muttered quietly. “I put eyes on the tops of the building to see what we could see.” His gaze took a wild edge. “You can see ‘em. Just like the recon showed, surrounding the refugees. Bodies packed in like a human chain-link fence. But get this,” he said, breaths quicker. “They’re all sleeping. Standing up.” His head slowly shook. “Something ain’t right with them.” He tapped his temple. “Whatever’s wrong is something up here.”
No fucking doubt. “Any weapons?”
“None we could see.”
“You get eyes on the refugees?”
Big headshake. “Not a one.” He glanced toward the school then back. “Wall of them off-people’s too tight. Like they tryin’ to suffocate ‘em.”
Seer looked at him. “They may be.”
Bishop gave Anvil a nod. “Give the signal.”
He nodded back and hurried to the front of the line of trucks, clicking his flashlight three times.
Truck doors opened all around as Bishop stared out the windshield, blood stirring with what was coming.
“Work while it’s still day,” Seer said softly next to him. “For the night is coming.”
Bishop looked at him.
Seer looked back and held his stare. “The night is here, brother.”
The words gripped him by the throat as Handy opened his door. “Better go shine our light then,” he announced smoothly.
Bishop made his way to Anvil and their gathered men.
“Recap,” Bishop said once he was in the center. “Quantum?”
Quantum stepped forward in his black tactical clothes, golden eyes hard with merciless calculation.
“My twenty-four soldiers will hit the northern line with the flash-bang grenades to weaken the southern line. I dispatch soldier number twenty-five—he takes out one of theirs—feeds me the bio-intel of what we’re dealing with. Simultaneously, my east unit joins the west for full confrontation,” Quantum said, nodding at Bishop.
“Thenourextraction team moves in,” Bishop said, pulling out his blade and squatting down to give his team the no-mistake-exacts. “Anvil, light me up here.”
Anvil aimed his flashlight at Bishop’s feet.
“The ring,” Bishop said drawing a circle. “When the south line weakens, we go in with steel only.” He X’d the location. “Close quarter combat—refugees here.” He added a big X in the center. “We form a perimeter around them. Two-man shadow teams. My twelve and their seconds. Bacon’s team can be our joint fillers.”
Bishop stood. “We’ve got eight Powerhouses. Quantum, The Triplets, Handy, Kaphas, Zodak and me. Quantum commands his twenty-five, I command mine, Creoles command theirs. The remaining six Powerhouses are for real-time messy warfare.” He pointed to the rooftop. “Anvil’s got eyes on them. Said he doesn’t see weapons and they look like they’re all asleep.”
“They’re likely in hibernation mode,” Sinrik said.
“I don’t think this is typical AI intelligence,” Quantum said.
“It isn’t,” Zodak confirmed. “I picked up impenetrable darkness.”
“We need to be prepared for the worst,” Bishop ordered. “For those of us that don’t have comms or neuro-links, we’re using our ole-fashioned body-comms, or vocals when it’s optimal.” He regarded Handy. “I’ve got root access to your system for any critical stats.” Given their enemy, his demon containment was something to watch.
Bishop continued, “My architecture will create a breach map that allows me to signature and track all on the field, friendly and hostile.” He lowered and dug two straight lines inside the ring with his blade, leading to the southern opening. “We’re aiming to create a corridor to move bodies through. Once it’s created, my men will begin the extraction, and the Powerhouses will cover them.”
Bishop stood again. “At some point, I need to get intel on one of these Dead Kings. But now that we know there’s a hierarchy, it likely means divergence.”
“Meaning?” Bullets asked.
