Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

75 ∞ face to face

[A/N:  Trigger warning for minor gore.] 

Day Seventeen ∞ Sunday afternoon

"SIR, WE CAN'T GET A GRIP ON IT," one of the men called out.

Apocalypse halted in his tracks and spoke over his shoulder, irritated, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The body's not... solid."

Furrowing his brow against the pain now at his left temple, he turned to look as the men grabbed the Extraterrestrial Biological Entity's outstretched arms and feet. They coordinated the lift, bringing the limbs off the ground, but as soon as the body should have followed, the limbs slipped through their grip, straight through the bones of their fingers. Shaking their heads, they straightened themselves.

"Get a litter," Apoc threw at another man. He needed to get that body to the research facility ASAP.

"APOCALYPSE," the voice of his comms man said in his ear, "Dragonflies six-one standing by. Two F-18 Hornets, six miles south by southwest of our position at angels two-three, loaded with AGM 65 Mavericks, twelve hundred rounds each. TOT* zero-point-three-six, ready for your work."

"Do we have a visual on the ETV?"

"Negative, sir... Standby... Chaos Two has eyes on ETV two-seven clicks due north-north by northwest of our position."

Apoc nodded slowly. That was near the area where the unknown foot mobiles had been spotted. "Stand fast. Eight mikes."

Eight minutes was a long time. If it were entirely up to him, he would end it all, right here, right now. A barrage of air-to-ground missiles in a controlled air strike. It didn't matter who the other two unknowns were. But he needed to at least appear to give the unknown a reasonable chance while maintaining combat readiness, now that the first EBE was no longer viable. 

He watched the men make another attempt to lift the body as a sudden breeze made him look up, beyond the men. The extraterrestrial vehicle was back, reforming itself out of the empty air exactly where it had disappeared twenty feet off the ground just three minutes ago. He tapped his earpiece.

"All units, stand fast."

Two men ran past him carrying the litter. They placed it beside the EBE, and the four men coordinated to shift the body onto it. Apoc gave them a quick glance and focused on the silent ship.

It was still hovering, the two gunships now positioned in the ceiling above it. He narrowed his eyes. What was it waiting for? He wasn't going to allow the unknown to start a new game with him. The ship started to lower itself to the spot it had been parked in before, just as he lifted his hand to his ear.

"This isn't working," one man called out, snatching Apoc's attention. The men paused with the litter inches off the ground, halfway through the body. "It's a ghost."

This was exceedingly aggravating. Even in death, this EBE persisted in playing games with him. "Get a sample from it," Apoc snapped. "An ear, right now."

The bubble expanded as the ship settled on its landing fins. One man pulled out a knife and cut an ear off the EBE. He ran off with it as the other three men faced the approaching shield, intent on staying with the body. They found themselves pushed back past the body. 

Apoc stepped toward the shield, then ran the last three steps straight into it, felt himself passing through it and yanked back by his right hip. The tug on his holster was the clue—he couldn't get inside with his pistol. He tossed it away, and immediately the force on him ended. The shield came to a halt a few feet behind him. He was the only one on the inside with the ship, unarmed and ready.