The Human Xenocide

Chapter Thirty-Four - The most Important Human in the World

“Uh oh,” Sin heard from within the hideout.  Tom had moved from the table to the main heating shaft just shy of a fairly new mattress lain out on the ground, his hands were in front of it—it was blowing warm air.  The ground’s about to heat up.

“Grounds getting warm!” the male voice said from the ground.

“Give me your hand, I see a small opening up there, might have something inside—a cold spot.” 

The dirt outside shuffled a bit—some rocks fell, sounded like someone slid—then a sharp scream echoed out of the silence, a deep gasp as it screamed again.  Someone outside pulled themselves up into the sealed opening to their hideout.  The smell of burning flesh filled the air.  The screaming mellowed out.  Tom was looking down at the ground.  It was painful to listen to that poor boy outside die.  Sin, with almost no emotion for the soldier’s painful death outside was concentrated on one thing, keeping his hideout a secret.  With the miniature pistol loaded in his right hand he reached for the stub of a handle on the square door. 

With one quick gesture he flung the door open and pointed the pistol into the entryway.  The filthy Lucarian rebel looked Sin in the eyes with a single tear slipping down his face in memory of his lost comrade.  “No… You.”  He whispered as his crawl froze.  He knew Sin’s face—this is not good, had that man from the phone shown all his men Sin—shown the entire world?  This is not good at all.  “NOO!”  He yelled as Sin pulled the trigger and silenced the final living solider.

***

The car ride to Sir Kelton’s base was silent—for some reason the driver and passenger were masked, Lilly never saw either of their faces.  As soon as the truck stopped Lilly was pointed to a single lit tent and the two men along with Alle vanished.  It didn’t take Lilly long to scope out this new, home.  There was a long line of over forty vehicles parked at this middle of nowhere hideout, but there was not a single building and only one tent.  There was no way all the people who came in the dirt covered trucks, cars, gun trucks and even a few tanks could fit in a small tent set up in the middle of the Arabian desert.  There was only one explanation—the large rock about twenty feet from the tent.  The entire desert consists of small rubble and shrubs, a massive rock just doesn’t fit here—it must be some kind of passage.

Lilly approached the tent and lifted the flap entrance.  A sturdy wooden table was in the center of and an unshielded standard light bulb hung from a wire above the center of the table.  A tin bookshelf next to the table was scattered with scrolls and papers along its scrawny shelves while in another corner stood a rickety wooden desk, the desk lamp turned off.  Two chairs were on either ends of the table and Sir Kelton was standing behind the chair on the far side of the tent.  His glazed over face looked up with a blank expression into some dark corner of the tent.  Lilly pulled up behind the chair in front of her and heard from Kelton’s almost completely still lips a stern, “Sit down.”

Lilly pulled the chair out from under the table and sat down, the light from above glared down at her.  It was now that she noticed a second person sitting in a small chair stashed in the corner, just behind the desk.  The man in the corner looked at the ground with a loose cigarette hanging from his frozen lips.  Lilly sniffed and for the first time to notice the disgusting smell of trapped smoke lingering in the tent.  Who was this second man?

Sir Kelton’s distracted face turned down from the remote place in the air and looked Lilly directly in the face.  A fresh red scar was seared across his face, ugly rushed stitches bore tightly into his skin—the large gash went across his left cheek, right through his lips, and finished off on the right side of his chin.  “We got a problem,” his voice sounded exhausted.  Whatever happened on the Russian border got to him, “Ten million Indian soldiers are tearing through every country on their way here. Pakistan was the first to take the blow, millions slaughtered in just two days.  The swift foot army is quickly moving on, Afghanistan and Iran are next, then Iraq.  I don’t know how, but they know—or think they know—and are coming after us.  There is no way to stop this massive army.  I hear they’re terrified of your mischievous little monsters.  I want you to create as many as you need—stop this army, before the massacre reaches my country.”