Counter Attack

# 1

I'm sitting in the darkness, waiting. There will be a rumble above me soon, and the ground will shake. The moment is coming - my big moment, when I take revenge for my parents and my friends. The moment when I strike back on behalf of the fallen soldiers and the slaughtered women and children, when I can show what I am made of. My hands are on my knees, but they don't stop shaking. The coward in me wants to run away, to find a way out, to save himself. However, my braver part is winning, at least for now. So I'm sitting in the dark, waiting.

***

I never wanted to be a hero. Sometimes though, higher authorities have other plans and the responsibility falls on you, whether you want it to or not. Then you accept your fate, swallow your fear and do your part.

A few days ago I was on watch duty with Ethan. We were hiding in the top floor of the multiplex movie building. Ethan stood in the shadow, looking through an empty window frame to the ruined city. It was his turn to keep an eye on the enemy movements, so we could alert the bunker in case the Droks came any closer. I sat on the floor, chewing a dry cereal bar. I gave up half-way through and for a moment I considered throwing it away. Instead I rewrapped it and put it in my pocket. Food is too precious to waste, no matter the taste.

"I hope I can blow up a few of their brains before I die. Damn Droks!" Ethan spat on the ground.

"Why brains especially?" I asked.

"They have much bigger brains than we do."

It wasn't much of an explanation but I let it go, and instead asked, "You were in the army, right?"

"Lieutenant, Second Corps."

"You've seen them? Face to face?"

Ethan frowned. "Droks are hard to catch. They blow up before you get to them. Must be a self-destruction thing."

I had heard that there are human-shaped beings inside the heavily armored exoskeletons. To me, Droks were robots with laser guns, though the geeks said it was not exactly a laser gun. Who cared about the proper name, they blew you into pieces all the same?

"What do they look like?" I asked.

"Have you seen Area 51 movies? Grey aliens?"

"Yup," I said thinking, when we still had movies.

"Pale skin, big head, smaller eyes than in the films, but a lot more teeth." Ethan nodded as if to confirm the description. Then he continued without being asked. "No one knows why we call them Droks. A guy told me the name was D.R.O.K. when they appeared. Some acronym only geeks could decipher. We should call them jerks instead."

I completely agreed with him. We sat in silence for a while.

"You think another ship will come?" I asked.

"You bet," he replied. "This is a goldmine for them."

"I never thought that air could be so valuable."

"Yeah. Hell of a price to pay, killing all of humanity for it. Even the animals. Bastard Droks!" He spat again.

I still remembered when the spaceship arrived. It was gigantic. It landed next to the city and started to suck up the air. For days we watched the tornado-like funnels the machines made. Then the ship took off and left and it became clear why they decided to kill us: they wanted our air, and we consumed it.

Ethan tensed and lifted his binoculars to his eyes.

"See something?" I asked.

"Movement. They're closing in on the trap. Come on." He started towards the stairs.

I jumped up and followed him, my heart starting to pump faster. We ran down to the basement, then through the abandoned hall, between pieces of broken furniture lying on the floor. I glanced at torn posters, mementos of better days now long gone. We came to a halt at the main entrance, peering out to the street. Exploded buildings and ruins stared back. No movement. We stalked towards the end of the street, trying to be quiet, arriving at a building that used to be a restaurant. All the glass was gone from the windows and doors, and a close blast had painted a black, ghost-like shape on the wall. I was afraid that the whole building would collapse if I blew on it. It made for a perfect trap.

On the other side of the building, facing towards the Drok war camp, the whole wall was missing. During the night we had placed a cage on the floor and put a rat in it. The Droks killed every living thing that moved, but I was amazed at how rats still survived. Then we had hooked a rope around the one pillar still standing, barely holding up the ceiling, and disguised it as well as we could with fallen bricks and pieces of broken furniture. Since then we had been waiting in the ruins of the movie theater for the Droks to notice the bait.

We crouched behind a wrecked truck, but didn't need to wait long until we heard the metallic clanks of their armored feet. Ethan peered over the hood of the truck then looked back at me, showing two fingers. I nodded. Two was better than none. I grabbed the end of the rope and curled it around my wrist so as not to lose my grip. Ethan did the same, then we waited.

"On my mark," Ethan mouthed the words silently.

My muscles tensed. I heard my blood drumming in my ears. The clanking came closer and closer. I had to resist dropping the rope and running away.

Then Ethan shouted, "Now!"

We jumped up and pulled the rope with all of our strength. Nothing happened. The clanking stopped, then started again, this time quicker.

"Pull, for God's sake!" Ethan cried, his body going stiff with the effort. My muscles burned, my arms ached. From the corner of my eye I saw a metal helmet in one of the windows, as one of the Droks started to climb out. I slapped my right foot on the side of the truck and pushed, using my last reserves of strength. Suddenly, the pillar gave way. The building collapsed with a deafening rumble, and we fell backwards. All the air left my lungs, and my back hurt like hell. I staggered to my feet, coughing from the cloud of dust and plaster enveloping us. It took a while until it settled down and we could check on the Droks. What we found was a helmet and one arm sticking out of the debris. It didn't move. The other Drok must have been under the fallen building.

I knelt down and tried to take off the Drok's helmet.

"We should get moving," Ethan said. "They surely must have noticed."

I didn't answer. I wanted to get a look at the enemy; I wanted to see the monster. With a click, the helmet gave way as I opened it. I stared at the alien face. It was exactly like Ethan had described. Its eyes were open but lifeless, gazing into nothingness. I felt acid boiling in my stomach, coming up to my throat. I stood up, lifted my leg, and kicked the dead Drok hard in the face.

"How does that feel, huh?" I kicked it a second time. "My father sends his greetings." Another kick. "Mother, too." The Drok's face became grey and pink pulp.

Before I could place another kick, Ethan grabbed my arm.

"We don't have time for this," he warned.

I was panting, but I slowly took control of my anger.

"Ok," I said, finally. "Let's go".

When I turned, something caught my eye.

"Wait! Help me with this." I bent down to scrape pieces of bricks and plaster away from something metallic. "I think it's one of their containers."

We rarely found anything of the Droks', but when we did, it had great value for us. Last time we got several beam-guns, which have enough power to penetrate the Drok's armor, something our firearms are not capable of.

Ethan helped me to remove the debris. The dead Drok's hand was still around the handle in a death-grip. Ethan snatched a brick and hit the armored hand until it loosened and the container came free. We grabbed it and ran.