A large, familiar shadow was by his side, leaning ever-so gently into Eddies hip

, a bare touch to announce his presence. (man?) the tickle of Buddy's questio
n was unsure but eager. "Just a minute, stay right here, let me get these thing
s on," Eddie was struggling getting the goggles over his still bandaged head.
"SANDERS!" "Ow! Shit, Doc, don't yell!" Apparently the goggles had speakers a
nd some sort of a microphone built in to them.
"Shouldn't have gone outside if you didn't know how to use the equipment, Sander
s." Doc's voice had toned down a little but was still very audible above the so
unds of battle around them.
"Keep the Nightshades on, Sanders, it's your means of identification!" "All fr
iendlies appear as green images, enemies without the Nightshades are red images.
" Doc went through a list of do's and don'ts then ended by a curt, "Good luck."

Image via Wikipedia

Eddie had been kneeling just inside of the entranceway while he adjusted the he
adset goggles then tuned the settings. (see?) "Yeah, Bud, now I can," Eddie repl
ied. "These are pretty cool, better than the other ones I've tried, Eddie was
still running through the menu and picking out "safe" areas in the compound's va
st, walled-in, main yard when the night exploded into incandescent agony, a flas
h bright enough to blind him momentarily and enough force to knock him down with
Buddy tumbling over the top of him, but on his four feet instantly, set to atta
ck.
(hurt?) Eddie felt the mind touch echo like in a long hallway. (hurt?) He shook
his head to clear his vision of flashing sparkles and re-positioned the goggles,
"Naw, little shook up though. How about you, hurt?" He could "feel" a little
twinge, more like discomfort in the tickle of Buddy's reply,(okay).
"C'mon, let's go!" Eddie was running broken-field, stooped over and zig-zagging
towards the community's "meeting hall" , a restored dairy barn about halfway to
the perimeter. He could see a large group of red spots attempting to storm the
main door, with little luck. They were being drilled by an automatic rifle fro
m one of the bunkers, three of them down and obviously out of the action as thei
r red spots faded and blinked out.
Crouching behind the partial cover of a burning pick-up truck, Eddie peered arou
nd the bed and brought the rifle to his shoulder. BWAMM! The short rifle barked,
then barked again, BWAMM! His target tumbled forward, falling under the feet of
his comrades, tripping them both and in that moment of falling, Eddie knocked t
he feet out from under the only remaining attacker, blinking off his red image.
"Eddie!" The shout came from his left and glancing that way he saw a figure wavi
ng at him from a bunker's doorway. "Hurry, more are coming!" The man's voice c
ould barely be heard in the din of battle, but Eddie recognized him immediately,
Tim, Doc's foreman/superintendant.
Ducking from a bullet that screamed off the bumper next to him, Eddie sprang up,
racing for the cover of the concrete bunker with only one thought in mind, to g
et there before a bullet got him.

Image via Wikipedia

He could tell that Buddy was beside him, then in front of him as he pounded for
the door opening only twenty yards or so away, his breath leaving a ragged vapo
r trail behind him.
Then he was there, hands were pulling him in and slamming the door even as sever
al heavy projectiles impacted the ringing steel door. "BUDDY!" his first breath
tore out of him in a shout. (okay) came the familiar feel of his best friend, (
you slow) Eddie plopped down on the carpet-covered concrete, catching his breath
.
"Gawddamned dog almost broke the seal when he hit it, I was just cracking the do
or to check for you when he plowed into it , knocking me on my ass! Eddie's fri
end Tim was limping towards one of the weapon ports as he explained. "Then you
both fell inside,,,good thing too, they got rockets."
That is what was making the solid steel door ring like the Liberty Bell, Eddie t
hought. "What can I do to help?" he asked no one in particular. He could see a
ll four of them, two men and two women busy at weapons ports, while another man
was at a console in front of the main monitor, feverishly typing at a keyboard.
Eddie looked down at Buddy who was licking one of his hind legs, when he noticed
the bloody pawprints coming from the doorway. "Bud, I thought you weren't hit,"
he bent over and examined the dog's rear leg, but saw nothing.
(okay), (not my blood) A sigh of relief escaped him as he realized his friend wa
s just washing up after the brief run to the bunker. Eddie shuddered a little as
he thought about how much blood would have to be pooled to make that many track
s.
"Get on that B.A.R. next to Jones," Tim instructed in a friendly but commanding
tone, "You ever use one of those babies?".
Eddie hadn't, but grunted affirmative as he went to the weapon port with it's le
thal occupant. As he got behind it and checked for the selector switch, a hand
touched him lightly on the shoulder. "Here, let me show you." The rich, contral
to voice was dripping raw sexiness as she pushed him aside.
After deftly running through loading and firing procedures she gave Eddie a litt
le pat on his butt as he took over."Make every shot count , honey," she purred t
o him.
He found that the goggles fit perfectly into the padded receptacle for viewing t
he outside battle scene. The rifle had been converted to a stationary role wi
th a fixed barrel that swung on a pivot point about six inches behind the front
blade sight. There was some kind of malleable substance surrounding the bar
rel that allowed no interchange of sound or smoke from the outside in. To view
his sights there was a padded receptacle that showed the range and other data
while he actually "saw" a virtual, digitally enhanced outside scene.
Instead of standing and firing from the shoulder he would be sitting on a padded
seat which moved as the automatic rifle moved, allowing for a wider range of fi
re without losing sight of the target. Adjusting his chair, bringing the back u
p and tuning the lumbar controls until he felt comfortable, Eddie grasped the d
ouble pistol grips and looked out.
Apparently he had about 45 degrees range of fire, there were range elevation mar
kings also, adjustable by pulling or pushing the pistol grips towards him or awa
y. He couldn't quite see the old dairy barn, but did have a good view of the mai
n

Image by Travis S. via Flickr

gate, fitfully lit by burning vehicles.
A solid knot of red images was advancing towards the meeting hall behind the cov
er of an armored personnel carrier that was firing as it came, the bursts of the
muzzle flash almost painful in his night vision goggles. Holding his breath, he
aimed for the images behind the vehicle and fired a short burst into them.
At least two dropped, the rest of them getting further behind the carrier which
was now firing back at him. Lucky the bunker was mostly sound proofed, he though
t. Aiming for the slot of the shield that protected the machine-gunner, Eddie le
t loose a longer burst from his B.A.R. and could see the sparks from the shield
as his bullets tore into it.
Two more short bursts put the machine-gunner out of business, but the carrier wa
s now within thirty yards and troops were spilling out, running towards him. Aft
er swapping magazines quickly, Eddie ran the front sight over the figures stream
ing towards him, holding the trigger down and hosing the intruders with .30-.06
armor piercing destruction.
His ammo out, he quickly fed another clip in and turned back to the scene outsid
e. The intruders were all on the ground, either dead, wounded or just grabbing c
over as he sighted in on the carrier itself. His bullets walked from one possibl
e soft spot to another, but found no openings as the carrier started backing awa
y.
Once again he fed another magazine into the receiver and surveyed the scene outs
ide. He was just in time to see the rockets hit the carrier and he looked away q
uickly, not wanting to be blinded. Opening his eyes again to the now burning wre
ckage of the carrier, he swung the sights around looking for more enemies.

Image via Wikipedia

(Sanders!) This wasn't through the headset but still sounded deafening. (They're
running, see if you can't find one alive to question) came the thoughts of Doc
Biddell. (Keep quiet about this link, no one else here knows, okay?) Eddie mutte
red "Okay" then turned around to the others who were also leaving their weapon's
ports.
"Wow!" was all Eddie could say as he stood up and stretched. "Anybody know who
these guys are?" There were several grunts acknowleding his question, but no an
swers. Everyone was sweeping their empty brass into piles for reloading, lookin
g like this was ingrained training.
He looked around for a broom and one was shoved into his hands by Tim who was h
olding a customized "Pooper-Scooper" waiting for Eddie's contribution.
(out?) Buddy's thought broke his concentration on the broom and Eddie missed the
bucket with the last few shell casings. "I don't know, Buddy," he said out lou
d as he stooped to pick up the shells. Tossing them into Tim's shell bucket he
noticed a strange look flash over Tim's features.
"Don't know what?" Tim asked. "Oh, just wondering if it's all right to go back
outside, err, I mean, like is it safe now?" Eddie was rubbing Buddy's ears the
way he liked it and Buddy was showing appreciation with a deep-throated rumble.
"As far as I know,,," began Tim then was cut off by a loudspeaker, "Okay folks!"
came the too loud voice of Doc Biddell. "Tim, bring Sanders back to the house w
ith you, we've got a couple of visitors to entertain." There was a short pause
with only the clatter of the keyboard behind them as the guy at the console feve
rishly typed.
"Good job people, looks like more than twenty black hats taken care of,,,only on
e wounded on our side, clean up and start the salvage op, that's all."
Tim was cracking the door as Buddy bowled him over on his way out, eager to be o
ut of the confined area. "Ow, shit Sanders! You gotta train that dog! Tim took
the hand that Eddie offered him, pulling himself back on his feet. "Sorry Tim,
he's just a little anxious is all," Eddie apologized for his friend.

"Hmmph" was all Tim grunted as he led the way to the house. A couple of men in
a small truck with a tank of flame-retardant foam were working on the personnel
carrier and just about had it put out by the time Eddie and Tim got to the house
. A couple of yards from the door Eddie called for Buddy with a piercing whistl
e.
"Unnhh!" was all that came out as the 160 pound brown dog plowed into him. "Oh
thyit Buddy,bit my damn tongue again!" As he got up off the ground he couldn't
help but see the smirk on Tim's face. "Here man, wipe yourself off before we go
inside." Tim handed Eddie a large handkerchief that he accepted gratefully, da
bbing at his mouth and turning looking for Buddy.
"He's gone, man." Tim said as he opened the door. Eddie walked in first still v
ainly attempting to stop the blood gushing from his bitten tongue.
"Sanders!" came the familiar bellow. "I guess we had two casualties, eh?" Tim
couldn't control himself any longer and was almost crying as he laughed. "The do
g got him, sir" was all he got out between guffaws.
As he glared at Tim, Maria came up with a washbowl and a first-aid kit. She led
him into the main room setting him down on his favorite recliner and began to w
ipe off his face carefully, looking for his wound. Apparently she didn't realiz
e he had bitten his tongue until most of the gore was wiped clean from his chin
and throat. Her puzzled look turned into a grin as she beckoned to him to open
his mouth.

Image by the|G|â ¢ via Flickr

"Auugh," he grunted as she shoved a roll of gauze into his mouth, then deftly po
sitioned it to cover the teethmarks that were welling more blood and threatening
to gag him. She gave him the wash bowl that was half filled with bloody gauze
and pink water, "Spit into this and I'll go get a clean shirt for you," she said
as she got up and left.
"Sanders, if you're well enough to listen for a minute, I'll clue you into what
I've found out," Doc had been talking in low tones to Tim as Eddie was getting c
leaned up and now dismissed Tim with a few short words and turned his attention
to Eddie.
"First, you must see about training that dog, Sanders. Some day he might really
hurt you." Doc never laughed out loud and rarely smiled, but there was a bit o
f a grin showing and a twinkling in his eyes that showed Eddie that Doc was only
half serious.
"Now, to start off, we have two fellows and one woman in custody who were in the
attack." Doc was settling himself into his favorite chair and also into his le
cture mode as Eddie spat a big glob of half-clotted blood into his bowl.
"We haven't questioned them yet, I just sent Tim to bring the first one to wake
up, here." Doc was getting wound up for a big one, Eddie thought. "It seems the
y are of a certain,,,uh, race you might not be familiar with."
At Eddie's puzzled expression the doctor went on, obviously warming to his subje
ct. "The are not really people at all, Sanders. They are constructs, living, br
eathing beings, but not human." Eddie wasn't sure he had heard what he thought
he'd heard, but couldn't speak because of the gauze in his mouth.

Image by mondays child via Flickr

Doctor Biddell went on, "Most people cannot tell the constructs from regular peo
ple, just people that can (think/feel/know), he used a term that wasn't a word,
a feel would be closest, Eddie thought.
"That's right, Sanders and we'll have to teach you how to guard your thoughts or
these constructs will know you immediately, and that's not good."

Doc paused for a second then continued, "You see, Sanders, they came here to fin
d you."