UnAss

By Chris Lowry

He was only supposed to report on the Invasion.

 

Not fight it.

 

But when a reporter is conscripted into a dead man's army, there's nothing he can do but fight to survive.

 

They're outnumbered, outmanned, outclassed.

 

Outmatched.

 

But when they come across a group of civilians trying to escape the chaos, the soldiers have no choice.

 

Protect them at all costs.

 

Now they're on a hunt for someplace safe to wait it out.

 

Some place to hide until the right time.

 

To run again. Or fight the invaders.

 

Fans of page swiping military sci fi are going to enjoy this action packed installment in the Invasion Earth series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Lowry
• Release date: Sep 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223103349

Chris Lowry

Chris Lowry is an author and adventure seeker who has traveled the globe exploring new worlds and writing about his thrilling experiences. With over one hundred thrillers, science fiction, and urban fantasy novels to his name, as well as more than a thousand articles published across various publications, Chris has established himself as a master storyteller and a leading voice in the world of action and adventure. Whether he's fighting off hordes of undead in a post-apocalyptic wasteland or braving the depths of outer space, Chris is always ready for his next thrilling adventure. Follow his journey as he battles against impossible odds and becomes the hero that the world needs.

Book preview

Chris Lowry

UnASS Print Version Sept 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Chris Lowry

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

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Contents

1. CHAPTER ONE

2. CHAPTER TWO

3. CHAPTER THREE

4. CHAPTER FOUR

5. CHAPTER FIVE

6. CHAPTER SIX

7. CHAPTER SEVEN

8. CHAPTER EIGHT

9. CHAPTER NINE

10. CHAPTER TEN

11. CHAPTER ELEVEN

12. CHAPTER TWELVE

13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Author’s Note

1

CHAPTER ONE

If you fucking throw up on me, I’ll blow your head off as soon as we get down, the buzzcut next to me screamed.

He had to yell.

The flying cargo transport had no walls and nothing more than a thin piece of metal for a floor.

It raced along the coast just off the beach at one hundred and eighty miles an hour.

Cowboy’s don’t puke, do they Cowboy! the man on the other side screamed back.

He didn’t punch me in the shoulder. He couldn’t.

But he looked like he would have.

Name’s Martin! I shouted.

Nobody gives a fuck about your name Cowboy, the right hand man screamed.

He had black letters stenciled on the breast plate of his modified armor suit that said Tritt.

Yeah Cowboy, the other shouted. Ain’t worth learning your name. You’re about to be dead anyway.

I was afraid he was right.

We were clamped in to the transport, hanging from the ceiling like meat on a hook in a butcher shop.

I knew what was about to happen.

The thin floor underneath us to reveal the sandy brown water of the ocean as it crashed into the shore below us.

The transport would dive at a forty five degree controlled descent and pull up twenty feet off the ground.

If the pilot was good, he would level off ten to fifteen feet off the hard packed sand.

The clamps attached to the thick body armor would release and drop the contents of the cargo area to the ground below.

We would roll and come up fighting as the pilot angled for the stratosphere at ninety degrees.

The hot insert was designed by a strategy expert in Washington DC, a rapid deployment tactic to deliver small groups of twenty four light fighters into a battle front with the least amount of exposure to enemy fire.

When we took off twenty minutes ago, I counted thirty eight transports lined up on the tarmac with even more stacked up behind the hanger like cars locked in gridlock.

Be ready! the Squad Leader slapped the chest of his armor with a closed gauntlet.

The light above his head began flashing red.

We hit that beach Cowboy, you come up shooting your rifle and leave that fucking camera in the pack, Tritt yelled.

I’m not supposed to be here, I muttered to myself.

If I said it any louder, the rest would give me hell for it, and it wouldn’t matter anyway.

I was supposed to be covering a fashion shoot with swimsuit models somewhere tropical. It was the way the world should end, surrounded by scantily clad beautiful women and boat drinks.

Not in the belly of a troop transport built by the lowest government bidder and not on a bloody beach south of Los Angeles.

The light above the Squad Leader switched to green and my world upended.

The transport raced toward the ground while my brain screamed against it. It should have felt like a roller coaster, that tummy tickle that stated just above your nuts and sent a shiver of electricity up your spine.

But we took fire, and the pilot juked into a steeper angle than forty five.

It felt like free-fall.

The wind shrieked through the open walls as the floor cranked back to reveal blue sky instead of beach.

Half the floor stopped halfway open.

The Squad Leader tried to kick it with his booted foot, but couldn’t reach.

Tritt lost his rifle as it slipped from his fingers.

Lucky for him it was strapped to his armor to prevent just such a