Excerpt: not sure yet

“THE FIRST ANGEL SOUNDED HIS TRUMPET AND THERE CAME HAIL AND FIRE MIXED WITH BLOOD, AND IT WAS HURLED DOWN UPON THE EARTH. A THIRD OF THE EARTH WAS BURNED UP, A THIRD OF THE TREES WERE BURNED UP, AND ALL THE GREEN GRASS WAS BURNED UP… THE THIRD ANGEL SOUNDED HIS TRUMPET, AND A GREAT STAR, BLAZING LIKE A TORCH, FELL FROM THE SKY.”
-REVELATION 8:7-8:10

“MEN WILL FLEE TO CAVES IN THE ROCKS AND TO HOLES IN THE GROUND FROM DREAD OF THE LORD AND THE SPLENDOR OF HIS MAJESTY…”
-ISAIAH 2:19

DECEMBER 29, 69 YEARS AFTER FIRST CONTACT
SECTOR 37, FORMERLY KNOWN AS GILA COUNTY, ARIZONA
16:27 HOURS

Sergeant David Ganey lay in the brush, binoculars in hand. He looked down the hill at the surrounding area. The land was scorched and bare, black and barren, not a single tree had survived the orbital bombardment. There was a rumbling in the ground, more felt than heard. David didn’t have to look up to know what it was. After years of fighting the Trayjans he knew their vehicles by sound. The new guy on the other hand didn’t.
The Recruit, Private Jameson, whistled while looking up into the sky.
David didn’t avert his gaze from the scorched earth miles ahead as he said, “What’s the matter, Jameson, never see a Trayjan Troop Transport before?”
“No sir,” Jameson said, “Six months ago was the first time I left the bunker.”
“Well Private, if you would be so kind as to keep your curiosity to yourself.”
“Ye…” The Private sounded flustered and embarrassed, David imagined him blushing a little. “Sir, yes, sir.”
One of the other soldiers, Corporal Briggs it sounded like, sniggered, even David smiled slightly.
“What have we got Sarge, or has Intel bull shitted us again?” Corporal Waitz said, lying next to David.
David lowered the binoculars. “Nah, Intel didn’t bull shit us.” David pushed himself up and sat up, facing his squad. “Okay listen up,” He said, scanning the faces of his men. “Intel was right, we’ve got a Trayjan LZ three clicks south. From what we can tell they’ve got at least three infantry divisions and it’s extremely likely they’ve got an armored division.”
“Shit,” Briggs muttered.
“Command wants us to eliminate the threat before Bunker Thirty-Seven is endangered. We’ve got a Low Orbital Particle Cannon Satellite online and waiting for coordinates.” David finished.
“Good,” Waitz said, “Let’s hurry up and bake this area and get the hell out of here.”
“No good,” David said, “We don’t have a clear shot from here. We’ve got to get a direct line of fire before we can call in the coordinates.”
“Shit,” Briggs said,
“Okay,” David continued, “We’ll head east to get farther up in the hills and then proceed south…” a low humming not far away made David stop, not because it was overly loud but because it was overly dangerous, and it was heading their way.
“Fuck!”
“Avispa!”
“Get down!”
David pressed himself underneath the bushes, thorns and branches sticking into his side, the humming getting ever louder. David looked up through the branches as a sleek vessel came over the hill and hovered above them, the waning sunlight glinting off of the metal surfaces. The vessel turned one hundred and eighty degrees and showed an open port, a recess in the metal. A dozen men, if you could call them men, sat or stood in that recess. They were vague silhouettes from this distance, but David was familiar with them. They were a head shorter than the average human, their bodies were always protected by skin-tight armor, they wore helmets and facemasks that resembled gas masks, and they were mean as hell.
Little was known about the Trayjans other than that they attacked the Earth sixty-nine years ago and swept aside the world’s governments in a matter of days. They never took prisoners, they left no one alive when they attacked, they mainly relied on orbital bombardment to attack targets, and the last bastion of human resistance had never taken a Trayjan prisoner for questioning. Everything else was a mystery: where they came from, what their motive was, who they were exactly. In conclusion: the Trayjans were the worst thing ever to happen to humanity. A merciless enemy that could not be negotiated with and was hell bent on wiping out mankind.
The vessel hovered there for a moment, like it was looking for something, and then flew away. David laid there, heart pounding, not daring to move. David didn’t move until the humming of the Avispa’s engines had died away. He crawled out from his hiding spot the others followed his lead. A light sweat was forming on his brow; he licked his lips and said, “Let’s go.”
They ran up the hill, sticking to the sparse vegetation line, occasionally stopping to listen. They heard nothing: no birds, no animals, no bugs. It was like every other animal on the planet also decided to burrow into the ground to avoid the monsters from above. They only heard the sound of their breath and their hearts pounding in their ears.
They ran to the crest of the hill and stopped, crouching low.
David pulled out his binoculars and looked southward. He gazed at the charred valley below them as another transport came in and landed. The Trayjans had set up a base camp down there: portable barracks, fortifications, a makeshift landing pad, the whole shebang.
Hundreds if not thousands of Trayjan soldiers scurried about: either constructing or manning fortifications, or moving boxes of ammunition, or doing other miscellaneous tasks that are vital to keep an army on the move. The transport that just landed opened its hatches and out came another couple dozen soldiers. Off to one corner of the camp there were dozens of tanks, mobile AA guns, and APCs. David had been wrong Intel had bull shitted them. There was no way in hell that that force in the valley below them was simply three infantry divisions and an armored division. This was an invasion force. It was an invasion force whose objective was obvious: to take Bunker Thirty-Seven. “My God,” David said, lowering his binoculars and handing them to Waitz.
Waitz took one quick look and said, “God damn.”
“What’s the hold up?” Jameson asked.
David recovered his senses, “Nothing,” He turned to Briggs, “Let’s shake and bake!”
Briggs smiled, “Ooh-rah!” He took the pack from his shoulders and set it beside him producing a long, collapsible, metal rod. He took the rod and extended it to its full length. He aimed the rod at the camp below and pressed a small button on the side. The rod began to emit a low and steady beeping.
Two Avispa’s came swooping in from the far side of the valley and landed at the camp. “Hurry up, Briggs!” David whispered.
“It takes a while to get the oven warmed up to bake.” Briggs said, not averting his eyes.
After what seemed like forever in anxious silence the rod Briggs was holding steady emitted a short triple bleep. Briggs quickly repacked the metal rod and put the pack back around his shoulders and then checked his watch. “We’ve got ten minutes before the satellite gets over the target then it’s gonna bake this entire fucking area.”
Jameson looked surprised, “But the outpost is two miles away.”
Briggs just smiled, “Then I hope you passed gym class.”
David patted the new recruit on the shoulder, “Running builds character,”
“Yeah,” Jameson said scornfully, “But you don’t have to lug this fucking rocket launcher!” Jameson motioned to the weapon on his back.
“Deal with it, soldier!” David said simply, and then they were off. Running through the brush, up and down hills, never stopping. They gave up secrecy all together, not caring if they attracted Avispas or not.
Heart racing, a stitch forming in his side, his legs aching, sweat pouring from his brow, David kept running. “How much time?” He yelled to Briggs.
Briggs looked down at his watch, not stopping, almost tripping over dead branches, “Five minutes!” he yelled in response.
“Don’t worry!” Waitz yelled, “We just have to cross the river and we’re home fr…” Waitz’s words were cut off by a loud humming. David’s heart skipped a beat as he looked over to his left. Jameson skidded to a halt twenty feet in front of him, face blanched in fear. The Avispa was racing towards them at full speed. David tackled Jameson just as machine gun bullets peppered the ground where he had been standing, a rocket flew from the vessel’s belly and hit the ground with a loud explosion and a cloud of dust. They hit the ground hard then scrambled up and got cover behind a large boulder just as the Avispa turned round and began firing again, racing past them as it did. Briggs had taken cover ahead of them, but Waitz lay in the brush, not moving.
David feared the worse, “WAITZ?” he shouted.
Waitz stirred and lifted his head to look at David; there was a long gash in the side of his head.
David was relieved but the danger hadn’t passed yet. He looked at Jameson, “Get that damn rocket launcher ready!” He then focused back on Waitz, “COME ON, GET OUT OF THERE!”
Waitz stood but wavered slightly then began to run towards them, just as the Avispa was returning to do another strafe. The machine guns opened fire, and clouds of dust began to form as the bullets impacted the dirt just behind Waitz. Time seemed to slow down as David watched in horror. The bullets impacting and blowing out Waitz’s kneecap, then the bullets working their way up going through the torso with a red spray of blood. Waitz stumbled then fell to the ground, blood flowing freely and turning the dirt around him red. It all happened within three seconds, but it seemed like an eternity to David. David silently hoped that Waitz would get back up and be fine, but he knew that it was a misguided fantasy.
Fear quickly turned to anger, David turned to Jameson. He was standing there petrified with fear, face pale, holding the launcher limply in his hands. “Get ready to fire that weapon.” David said angrily.
“I…I…can’t sir. I don’t have a lock.”
“I don’t give a damn if you have a lock, you are firing that weapon as soon as that flying metal son of a bitch comes back around. DO YOU HEAR ME SOLDIER?”
“SIR, YES SIR!”
The Avispa came back into view and Jameson ran out into the open and kneeled on the ground, aiming the launcher upwards. The Avispa began firing as soon as Jameson emerged from hiding, but the bullets all seemed to miss. Just as Jameson fired his rocket a bullet clipped him in the calf, blowing away a large chunk of his muscle. Jameson dropped the launcher and fell backwards, clutching his bleeding leg. The rocket spiraled into the air leaving a white smoke contrail. The rocket clipped the Avispa’s tail then exploded, sending shrapnel into the hull of the vessel and snapping the tail in two. Black smoke began to fill the air as the Avispa spiraled wildly out of control; it descended quickly and crashed out of sight. There was a loud explosion and blue flames leaped high into the air.
David was exhilarated, “YEAH YOU FUCKER!” Briggs was shouting, “YEAH YOU GOD DAMNED ALIEN! SUCK ON THAT! SUCK ON THAT YOU DAMN ALIEN BITCHES!”
David ran forward to Jameson. Jameson lay clutching his leg, both of his hands were covered in blood and the dirt around him was crimson. His face was paler than ever and he looked to be in agonizing pain. “You okay soldier?” David asked, though he knew it was a stupid question.
“DO I LOOK LIKE I’M OKAY?” Jameson shouted.
“Briggs, how much time do we got?” David asked.
Briggs looked at his watch, “Three minutes, we’ve got to go.”
“Grab Waitz’s dog tags!” David said to Briggs then turned his attention to Jameson. David grabbed Jameson by the shirt and threw him over his shoulder and began running. David ran as fast as he could, even with the added weight. Finally they came to the river. David was never happier to see something in his life; he splashed through, the water coming up to his shins. He ran up the steep bank on the other side and very nearly tossed Jameson over the edge before climbing up himself, Briggs right behind him.
Just as David got to the top he turned his gaze to the south. A golden beam was shooting down from the sky to the ground three miles away. Suddenly the beam intensified and widened creating a long column of pure energy that was nearly as bright as the sun. Even from this distance he could feel the heat of the beam.
As quickly as it had appeared, the beam was gone. Panting, David fell backwards onto the grass. Running a hand through his sweaty hair he continued to gaze at where the beam of energy had been. Thanks to him and his squad of Advanced Scouts, Bunker Thirty-Seven was safe for another day. But of course, if the Trayjans were willing to send down nearly six divisions for this one bunker then it had to be of great importance to them. And if it was of great importance then they would return, next time with more troops. But that didn’t matter; what did matter was that the bunker was safe for another day.