Chapter 6

The Night That Robbie Died.

Hands grabbed under his arms. Robbie felt himself lifted from the floor. He could hear the Marine that sucker punched him nearby. His captors treated him roughly. Willing himself to look Robbie was able to change the tilt of his head a few inches. Wanting to keep his recovery a secret, Robbie let his head go slowly limp.

The sergeant called from across the room. "Todd, Brady, the Darjee want us to process this one."

"Yes, sergeant," that voice came from Robbie's right.

The way the two Marines were handling him changed. Motions became more fluid less disruptive. In the jostling, he was able to see the name Brady written on the lapel of the Marine who answered.

The one who had to be Todd added, "Yeah, soon he will be parroting what the masters' want." The two Marines chuckled glibly.

Brady stopped laughing first. "Let's get him over to the pad."

As they moved Robbie's body toward the pad, the room reoriented in his view. Robbie watched the pad come closer.

"Do we need to chip him again?" Todd's voice came across whiney. "You know teleporting interferes with the overseer protocols."

Robbie recalled the sergeant zapping him with something.

"Nah, the sergeant tagged him the second time when his woman was being test driven." That brought a round of laughs.

Robbie didn't want to become a slave. He thought he could move his fingers a bit. Then he remembered the sergeant had only stunned or what they called, 'tagged' him once. Robbie had a glimmer of hope. White, gold, and green tiles passed under his feet until a transport pad came into view. The floor changed in a sudden flash, an industrial type floor of dark metallic mesh that clanked and rang as they proceeded. Robbie smelled dust and feathers.

Screeching mixed with a series of clicks, came over loud speakers. Robbie felt himself placed in an upright position. Hands started brushing dust and dirt away, straightening his shirt, and then tucked it into his pants.

Robbie could feel his muscles again. He noticed that Todd had one of his pistols in his waistband, as a trophy. Standing him back up, neither Marine had him in a heavy grip. His other pistol waited secure in Brady's belt. Robbie played along as they took him back down the corridor. With each step, his arms and legs responded more to his mind.

Robbie let them support him along the walkway. They entered a brightly lit room. Blinking to clear his eyes, he saw the Marines' master, a Darjee alien. Having features similar to a hawk, and the coloring of a Scrub Jay, blue, gray, white, and black feathers encompassed the head, dressed in flowing red metallic and shimmering bronze robes. Beady small eyes, black with no discernible pupil magnified the alien's presence. Twitching its head back and forth, the Darjee scanned its slaves.

The Darjee clicked and screeched again. Robbie's escort eased him into a kneeling posture.

"Yes my Lord," Todd answered. "It shall be done."

Both Marines bowed their heads, remaining in that position until a click caused movement.

Robbie initially felt pity for the two men. It changed to abject fury over what the Darjee was doing to humanity. He discovered the fury extended his control over his muscles.

Todd spoke, "Soon Robbie, you will become one of us." A pat on his shoulder seemed welcoming. "Master Garuda has decided you shall be part of his Janissary Corps."

Standing him back up, Robbie faked a stumble. "Sorry," he mumbled while he leaned into Todd. He grabbed feebly, using just his arms, trying to remain upright. Todd moved to support him. Robbie slid his arm to the right snatching the pistol. Neither Marine noticed his action.

Time slowed. Robbie knew he had to act with a singular focus. He slid the barrel up Todd's torso. He pulled the trigger somewhere high in the solar plexus. When he felt the barrel slip between a pair of ribs, he pulled the trigger again. Nudging the dying man over, he whirled and fired one shot at Brady, it entered the Marine's neck. Brady crumpled trying to staunch the blood flow. Robbie knew better than to take chances. Stepping forward, he fired once into Brady's exposed ear.

Screeching that hurt his ears forced Robbie to turn toward the sound. The alien birdman ran through a nearby door. Robbie toyed with chasing after it, but he needed to escape. He leaned over Brady's body. Reaching down, he grabbed his second pistol. Robbie fled back down the hall.

A flash from a transport pad came from the doorway at the end of the hall. Maybe a way out, Robbie bolted for the opening. Two steps from the doorway he met the loudmouth black sergeant that wanted to fuck his ex-slut. Every bit of Robbie's training screamed for a shot into the sternum. Robbie adjusted the gun at the last second. One shot to the teeth, wiping that smile away forever. Then one center mass, just to be sure. Robbie charged over the crumpled form. Inside were two more Marines. Unable to take proper aim, Robbie fired three rounds from each pistol as he entered. Both men slumped to the floor. Time was of the essence. A whooping alarm began to wail.

Alone in the room with dead Marines, Robbie checked his options. In the center of the room, a circular blue pad glowed ominously. Robbie felt confident this was the room they teleported him to from Earth. He could hear footsteps approaching. Taking a chance, he stepped onto the swirling pad.

Robbie felt the shift, his vision blurred. Once he refocused, he found himself back at the university.

Into the hall sauntered a Marine carrying an equipment bag. He never knew what was about to happen. Robbie stepped quietly up to him. The Marine never stood a chance. Placing his pistol into the Marine's Adam's apple, he pulled the trigger twice. Grabbing the bag, Robbie rushed out of the room, down the hall, and into the parking lot. He sprinted to the van.

For two hours, Robbie drove aimlessly in and around the outskirts of Temple Terrace, making sure no one followed. He then parked the van behind his trailer. No lights were on. Robbie waited for anyone to appear. After twenty minutes, he eased into the barn. Covered by the darkness, he pushed the three-wheeler out of the barn and down the long driveway to the road.

Hopping on, he started the motor and headed cross-country toward the bivouac. He even doubled back twice at the overpass. Arriving at O'Grady's, he drove to the third Quonset hut.

He remembered to avoid the direct route by the old rusted out wrecker. Vietnam had taught some of those old men to be deadly sneaky. He glanced at the hidden tripwire next to the Studebaker Golden Hawk. Robbie finally understood Colonel Jessop's joke about the car as he set the M-18 Claymore booby trap. This time of night, the pressure switches would be active. Robbie took time to scan the areas where they were located. After completing his serpentine route, Robbie stopped at the back door. Opening the external breaker box, he flipped the seventh switch from the top, on the left side, to off. Then he flipped the one opposite of that breaker to the on position. He counted to four then reversed the sequence.

Heading inside, he waved at Paul who was manning the door post. Robbie rushed past the campers to a late fifties panel van. Opening the double door, he stepped in. Once inside, Robbie closed the back doors. He flicked a hidden switch, changing the light color in the van to red. Pulling a hidden lever, he waited for the secret door to open. Stepping through the opening, he rushed to Vernon's room to report.

Knocking on the door, he waited. Robbie didn't survive the last four hours only to die waking up his grandfather.