He shook his head. "I wish I knew."

  "Whatever it is, it’s fucking dead," replied Payne.

  "For now, but this isn't an isolated incident."

  "How can you know?"

  "Because it ties up with everything Rains told me," said Ross wearily.

  "What, what did he tell you?"

  "He feared this was widespread, but he had no idea what. Before we left there had been no attacks, or nothing we knew that were attacks."

  "You're saying this is countrywide?" Ortiz asked.

  Ross didn't need to say a word.

  "Ah, shit, you're fucking kidding me?"

  "Come on, we still don't know anything for sure," replied Max Ramos.

  "We sure as hell know enough. We're under attack here, and you're telling me this isn't some isolated incident?"

  Ross grabbed Ortiz and hauled him in close.

  "Whatever is going down, we’ll deal with it, you hear?"

  "We're a single team. We can handle plenty, but we can't fight a war alone."

  "But you aren't alone."

  Ross released his grip of Ortiz. It was the youngest among them who had spoken up.

  "This isn't some distant battle in some shithole country that none of us would ever see if it wasn't for this job. This is home." He pointed back toward Wood Point.

  "That out there, that town. That’s my home. I was born there. My family is there. My friends. That’s what we’re fighting for, and they're gonna be right here fighting with us."

  "You're talking about a civilian population?"

  "Yes, I am, Sir. And when a country's freedom is at risk, who do you think it falls to? How was this country founded? It wasn't by the likes of us, was it?"

  Max was about to respond when Ross gave him a look to tell him not to. The young man wasn't wholly correct, but his heart was in the right place.

  "I'm not so sure your facts are quite on the ball there, Private, but you're not wrong either," he replied with a smile.

  Lightning flashed across the sky, and that made Ross' enthusiasm fade. They all knew what that meant.

  "What, more of these sons of bitches?" Ortiz asked.

  "Bring 'em on," Payne growled, reloading the grenades into his Milkor.

  "No, we can't keep this up. Plus that pilot needs our help. He's gonna be in a world of trouble if we don't find him quick."

  Ross hauled Olsen up and carried on towards the vehicles. They were close when a flash of light lit up the scene. A pulse from an enemy weapon flashed past their heads, smashing into a tree in front of them.

  "Don't stop! Payne, covering fire!"

  "Yes, Boss," he said with a smile.

  He fired three grenades in the direction of the enemy. The charges blew as they rushed out from the woods. Pope was waiting beside the vehicles with a rifle in hand, though he was barely able to stand, having propped himself up against one of the doors.

  "Back inside. We're getting the hell out of here!" Donny yelled.

  Ross helped Olsen into one of the vehicles as the others tried to move the tree once more, but they weren't getting anywhere.

  "Get in! Leave it!"

  He jumped into the driving seat as they clambered in, firing the engine up as the doors slammed. Slipped it into drive and rocked up to the fallen tree. As the front bumper pushed against it, he upped the power. The V8 roared as he put as much power down as he could do on the wet road. They moved the tree a little, but quickly slowed to a halt. That’s when they saw a figure appear at the edge of the trees.

  Max dropped his window and opened fire with his rifle. The truck was suddenly shunted hard from behind as the other vehicle made contact. Both engines roared as one pushed the over, and finally the tree was driven back across the road.

  Light began to emanate from their attacker, but before it could fire its weapons, a grenade from Payne's Milkor smashed into the gunman. The shell exploded on impact, and Max looked away, covering his head from the shrapnel smashing into the side of their vehicle. Ross didn't waste the opportunity. He put his foot to the floor and spun the wheels, tearing off into the distance. Max looked out of the window at the burning wreckage they’d left behind. A large piece of metal had burrowed into the rear quarter of the vehicle, narrowly missing the tyre.

  "Jesus, that was close." He slumped back down into the passenger seat.

  "Still alive, aren't we?"

  "Yeah, but flying by the seat of our fucking pants."

  "Do we ever have it any other way?"

  The truth was, he was just glad to have made it out alive with his whole team. That was Ross' number one aim, no matter what. No matter how important the mission.

  Chapter 2

  Martin Burns was carefully moving across a rocky outcrop in a broad canyon. He paused to wipe his brow. It was still raining lightly, as if it was never going to stop. But on top of the rain he was also sweating profusely. He's been walking for hours.

  "What are you doing?" he asked himself as he shook his head.

  He would never normally be out in the wilderness at night. It wasn't a clever move, especially not alone. He knew this, and yet still he was going forward, now many hours’ walk from his truck. He looked down to see footprints, and yet they did not surprise him. They were not of the shape of anything familiar. They surely had to be human, but were large and obscure in shape.

  "I just don't get it."

  These were not the first he had seen, and yet the tracks kept drying up. It was as if whoever was leaving them was walking a little, then vanishing and reappearing somewhere else. He had no answers for it. All he could do was keep going. He had to. He’d promised Emma he would keep looking. Had most other kids come to him with such a story he'd have been suspicious, but not her. She wasn't the kind of kid to spin a tale or cause trouble. That’s what worried him the most. That what she said she saw might be true. He gripped his rifle a little tighter, thinking about what that could be.

  He didn't want to be out there. Every fibre of his being was telling him to go back, but there was a kid missing.

  "Fucking Sheriff Willis," he muttered, "He should be out here helping out."

  That was the truth as well. He looked at his watch. He had been out a lot longer than he realised. It was almost 3am.

  "Shit."

  He looked about, surveying the ground before him. The moonlight fortunately provided a good view across the canyon, although he was still finding no more clues. He was trying to find one teenager in the wilderness. He had no idea where to look and didn't understand the tracks he was finding. None of it made any sense. That was the worst of it. He always believed if you looked and tried hard enough, you would find the answers, or at least a solution. It’s what he told his students, and yet he was coming up short now. He looked around in every direction. Finally, he stopped as he noticed the moonlight glimmer on something on a tree a few feet away. He paced over to it cautiously. He looked around as if expecting to see someone nearby, but it was deadly quiet. He touched the liquid on the tree and studied it closely. It was blood, unmistakable, and at a height likely from a person placing a bloody hand upon the bark.

  "Sam, are you are out here?" he asked with hope.

  There was no sign of a body, and the person had to have been standing when they left the trail. He looked down and around the tree to see the tracks intersected his, but there was nothing on the narrow track itself. He peeled back foliage. Whoever had come past had jumped the track so as not to leave an obvious trail. The boot tracks were ones he recognised. They looked like they'd come from either military issue or hiking boots.

  "About time." He knelt down close to study them. There were only tracks for one person.

  "It has to be him."

  It was something to go on at least. He looked back at the blood. It was all the proof he needed to follow this lead. Especially as it was his only lead, and the only thing that made any sense since he’d come out here. He shouldered his rifle, starting to think this wasn't anything more than a wounded and lost teenager. For a moment he forgot all that Emma had told him, and the suspicious arrival of Ross and his team. This story made sense to him now, and he couldn't imagine why there would be any other reason to worry in a small town. It’s why he moved there, and he was reminded of that as he let his pulse settle. He'd seen enough war in his time, enough people at each other's throats. He settled down in Wood Point so that he could live the quiet life, and so far, it had been all he had hoped for. He followed the trail for a half-hour, but didn’t find any more blood.

  The tracks were relatively well covered and disguised, as if he was pursuing someone who knew a little about not being found. That should have set off alarm bells in his head, but he was too concerned with finding the lost and wounded young man to think anything of it. He came to a small clearing, and at the edge he spotted a bag with a bloodied bandage beside it.

  "Sam?"

  There was no reply. He looked around in all directions for some sign of the football player.

  "Sam!"

  His voice echoed out far and wide.

  "Shhh," a voice replied.

  He spun around and stared at where he’d heard it from, but could see no one. Then as his eyes focused further, he could see the eyes of a man hiding amongst the foliage, and the barrel of a rifle protruding before him.

  "Sam? Is that you?"

  "Shhh, shut up, and get down," the voice replied faintly.

  "What? Come on out. You're hurt."

  "Get the fuck out of here!"

  "I'm not leaving without you."

  "I don't know you, and I don't want to. You're on your own."

  Martin looked puzzled. He was suddenly overcome by a strong smell of chlorine that burnt his nostrils. So much so he had to check for a nosebleed. But there was a crash of movement, and he turned quickly. Something was coming at them. It was running at a jogging pace, and on two legs, but it didn't look human.

  "What the?"

  The ground suddenly gave way before whatever it was crashed down into a hidden pit. There was a violent squeal that sounded more like a pig than a human. The man hiding with the rifle burst out from cover with an AR15, and that’s when he realised it wasn't Sam at all.

  "What the hell is going on here?"

  He looked back, and whatever it was that had vanished into the pit was climbing out. The man beside him fired two shots, and the thing fell back down into the pit, but it was up and out in seconds. It lifted one arm as if to fire a weapon, but light flashed and then fizzled out as if it was losing power. The AR15 rang out again, but the robotic looking creature climbed out and rushed towards the gunman. Martin was too stunned to respond, his hands empty as his rifle was slung firmly on his back.

  "Run!" yelled the man. He turned and fled with the thing chasing after him. It soared past Martin as if not even noticing him.

  He was frozen for a moment, not knowing what he was seeing and why. He'd come looking for a missing teenager. But he didn't know this man who was a few years older than his students. He looked rough and ragged, but well armed. Despite not knowing his identity, there was something familiar about the young man. The machine-like creature stormed past, and he got a reasonable look at it. It looked more like the machines Boston Dynamics had been developing than anything human, but far more advanced.

  It burst into the woods after the man in hot pursuit. It wasn't as fast as a human, yet determined and seemed unstoppable. For a moment he didn't know how to respond. The machine hadn't come after him, and he didn't know the man either, but he looked down at the dried blood on his hands. He realised he needed to help. There was a person wounded and in danger. He had to help. He had no idea who he was or if he deserved to be helped. But a wounded person in the wilderness, they deserved his help, just as he would want from someone who crossed his path under the same circumstances. He rushed on after the two of them, careful to veer far enough out of the line of fire as the man fired back. Bullets pinged off the machine as if it were hardened steel, and proof against them.

  Martin stopped to catch a breath and lifted his rifle to his shoulder. The young man had stopped to load a new magazine, and the thing following him had slowed to a walking pace. He still had no idea what he was looking at. All he knew was the man being pursued wanted to survive. That was enough for him. He took aim through his scope. First at the centre body mass of the creature, but then remembered how the bullets flew right off. So he lowered his muzzle and took aim at one of the knee joints. He squeezed the trigger and let off a round. The machine snapped and jolted forward, trying to correct itself. It turned to face him, and to his horror came right at him.

  He racked the bolt to chamber another round. His rifle was supposed to be for hunting, he never envisaged having to fight for his life with it. He took aim at the same joint, seeing the machine was now hobbling. He fired, and the joint blew apart, causing it to topple and collapse onto its broken knee. The other man primed his rifle and opened fire into the back of the machine. He could hear ricochets, but some seemed to be getting through. He was closing the distance with the machine, and took aim at the other joint, learning from Martin and following his lead. A few shots into the other joint and the second leg blew off. What was left of the robotic creature was still clawing its way forward, as if it were an unstoppable killing machine.

  It was still coming for Martin, despite the shots into its back and leg from the other man. He racked another into the chamber and took aim at the head. He fired. The bullet hit hard and seemed to penetrate, and yet still the thing came. Then he heard a hissing sound. He looked up. The man had lit a stick of dynamite.

  "Run, now!"

  He threw the stick down onto the metallic beast. Martin didn't need another warning. He ran with everything he had. The fuse was short and blew quickly. He felt the wind strike his back before finally he slowed down. He looked back, as if expecting to see the metallic beast still coming at him, but it was nowhere to be seen. He took a seat on a fallen tree as he caught a breath. He heard steps beside him and quickly lifted his rifle. It was the man who he’d fought beside. For a moment he kept the rifle up, but he soon dropped it. The young man seemed too weary to even try and fight back. He slumped back down onto the fallen tree, and the man joined him. They were both breathing heavily from exhaustion and stress. The other man soon drew out a fresh magazine from his pocket and pushed it gently into the rifle. He was clearly very familiar with the weapon.

  Neither spoke for a full two minutes as they thought about what they’d just been through. Martin was trying to put it all together. The missing footballer, the blood, and this man he had never met, and yet was somehow familiar. The thing that had attacked them. None of it made any sense.

  "Martin, Martin Burns," he finally said.

  It was the only thing he could think to say. The two of them had fought together to survive, and that forged a bond and trust that didn't need questioning.

  "The teacher?"

  Martin turned in surprise.

  "You know me?"

  "My sis does."

  That’s when it clicked. He could see the resemblance in his face, despite the dirt and grime covering his features.

  "Emma?"

  "Miles Tyler," he said in response.

  "I heard you left town a couple of years back."

  "I left town all right, but I've not been far away."

  "Where? It’s not like there's a town for miles."

  "Don't need a town to live. I built my own place. Proofed and ready for anything, anything except this."

  "You're what, some kind of Prepper survivalist?"

  "Sure, if you wanna name everything. I'm just a guy who wanted to be ready when it all came crashing down."

  "Well, were you?"

  "Not nearly as much as I hoped to be, but I'm still alive, aren't I? Lot to be said for that. What about you? What's a schoolteacher doing out here in the middle of the night?"

  "I'm looking for a student. Your sister was the last one to see him."

  He could tell from Miles’ reaction that he already knew that.

  "She came to you about this?"

  "Sure, she came looking for my help, and I blew her off. Just before all this shit went down."

  "What shit?"

  Miles looked surprised to hear his tone and language, considering who he was.

  "Come on, son, I haven't been a teacher all my life."

  "You handle a rifle pretty well," he admitted.

  "Fifteen years in the Corps."

  "All right, so you tell me what is happening here."

  "You kidding me? If I had any clue something like that was out here, I wouldn't be. What even the hell was that?"

  "I don't know, but they ain't human. I can't tell if it's something living and armoured, or some robot shit."

  "They? This isn't the first one you've encountered?"

  "Hell, no. The one that came to my bunker and attacked me head on, I blew that thing to hell. This ain't the same one."

  Martin sighed in disbelief, although Miles sensed he knew more than he was letting on.

  "All right, you know what I do, what about you?"

  "What about me?"

  "It should be the Sheriff and his people out here looking for this kid, not you, and you already knew something was going down. Sure you were surprised to see whatever the fuck that was, but you expected trouble."

  "A team rolled into town, looking for something. I saw 'em at the Sheriff's office, laying down the law."

  "A team? What like some kind of Navy Seals or shit?"

  "Some kind of specialist unit, hard to say what, but something like that, yeah."

  "In Wood Point?"

  He nodded in agreement.

  "And you don't think that was weird? When authorities like that start showing an interest in a small town, you should know something is up. They don't care unless something big is going down."

  "How was I to know? Until now all I knew is a kid had gone missing. You know how often teenagers get lost out here? Whatever those guys were, they could have just been passing through."

  "And they felt the need to go see the Sheriff while they were here? No, I don't think so. Whoever they are, this is linked. Hell, they might have even brought these things here."