ALIEN INVASION Read Online Free PDF

was already flying through the air.
    It was a strike.
    The grenade landed in the pit and exploded. Fire raged and engulfed any men that hadn’t been thrown from the mortar with the explosion. Debris landed on Kent, some sections of the sandbags, all of them still alight. He rolled onto his back and kicked them from him. He saw Jordan shoot a Nazi who had been flung by the explosion, he was half dead anyway, three limbs missing.
    Kent stood and crunched some of the dirt in his mouth before spitting it out. Jordan walked to his side and handed the sergeant his Thompson. Kent took it and slung it over his shoulder. The German officer stumbled out of the pit, fully ablaze, his arms flapping, screaming Pig Latin. Jordan locked him in the sights of his Garand. Kent placed his hand on the rifle and lowered it. Jordan gave him a questioning look.
    “Let the bastard burn. Save your ammo.” Kent spat then watched for Jordan’s reaction. It was minimal. He just nodded. “Let’s go find the artillery.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The artillery bunker was in sight. Kent and Jordan jumped down to lay prone in a crater already occupied by two other Rangers. They had their rifles to their shoulders and were firing into the open slit at the Germans inside.
    It was hard to tell how many were in the bunker, the fog of war was covering the battlefield in thick density. But judging by the rate of fire, Kent guessed at three. That meant four Rangers verses three krauts.
    The two Rangers were on Kent’s right, as Jordan joined in the firefight with them on his left, taking aim with his rifle and firing in two shot successions. Kent tapped the one closest to him on the shoulder. “I count three,” Kent said.
    “That’s what we make it, sir!” the Ranger shouted back over the bangs of his weapon. “We could do with a grenade. You got any? We’re all out.”
    “Afraid not.” Kent saw movement in the slit through the fog. He fired off a short burst. The bullets just chipped away at the concrete and added more dust to the air.
    “What now?” Jordan asked.
    “I’m working on it,” Kent said. “We outnumber them. We’ll use that to our advantage.”
    “How?” the Ranger next to Kent asked.
    “I was thinking we–” Kent’s words were cut short as the Ranger next to him took a round to his face, his nose caved in, an eye bulged, and the bullet exited at the rear, flipping up a flap of hair-covered skin. The Ranger’s head fell into the dirt and blood started to pour from the hole.
    Three Rangers verses three krauts.
    Kent wiped some of the splash-back blood from his face and heard Jordan over his shoulder shout, “Shit!” The other Ranger in the crater tried to wipe some splash back away too, his hand was too shaky though, all he managed to do was smear it.
    “Finish that sentence, Sarge,” Jordan said.
    “There’s no point. We needed four men. Just keep fire on that bunker, will you?”
    “Sure thing.”
    “Here, take this.” Kent handed his Thompson over to Jordan. He watched the other Ranger for a few moments. The guy was wide-eyed, staring at the dead soldier that was in the shell hole with them. “Did you know this man, Private?”
    “Y ... yes.”
    “How well?”
    “Very.” He didn’t take his eyes off the body.
    “Tell me something about him.”
    “Like what?”
    “You choose.”
    “He … he was an artist.”
    “What type?”
    “The funny pages type. He’d just started working for a company in DC that produced stories about a man that can fly. A man that can stop bullets.” A tear ran down his face.
    “Will you ever forget that, or his name?”
    “Never.”
    “Then he isn’t dead.”
    The Ranger just nodded as more tears welled up.
    “Now I need your help. You need to lay some suppressing fire on that bunker, while I figure out a plan of attack.”
    “Yes, sir.” He placed his Garand back to his shoulder.
    “That’s fantastic, son. What’s your name, Private?”
    “It’s Clark.” He smiled. A