The Atlanta Incursion: The Long War, #2

By Matthew Quinn

James Daly thought he was safe at college after defeating small-town cultists and their otherworldly master. He was wrong. Although the Thing in the Woods is dead, there's more to this world than just one monster.

In May of his senior year of high school, he'd faced a murderous coven and the otherworldly horror they worshiped in the woods outside small-town Edington, Georgia. And though there was a price to be paid, he came away triumphant. Now dating fellow survivor Amber Webb, he's attending Georgia State University with his best friend Eli Schwartz and doing his best to forget the bloody events of the previous summer. But just in time for Amber to visit one October weekend, the nightmares plaguing him begin invading his waking hours. Something far more sinister than post-traumatic stress may be afoot, especially when the mysterious man in black who'd made James an offer he couldn't refuse returns. Meanwhile, reluctant Edgewood Jack Boy Javion Jackson joins more hardened gang members in an ambush of the Boulevard Crips, only to find his companions dead and himself a prisoner of sadistic extraterrestrials.

The four are about to be dragged into an interstellar conflagration deep in the heart of downtown Atlanta. And not all will come home alive...

This is the second book in The Long War series. Fans of the Men in Black, Charles Stross's Laundry Files, and Delta Green will enjoy this tale of a secret war against otherworldly forces.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matthew Quinn
• Release date: Mar 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224761821

Book preview

Prologue

Khaled Jones yanked Javion Jackson back into the brick-lined alley deep in downtown Atlanta. Before he could even react, the bigger man cuffed him on the side of the head. "You dumb fuck! he snarled. Just standing out there with your dick in the goddamn wind? They’ll see us from a long way off."

Yes, Khaled. Sorry Khaled. Javion nodded quickly and smoothed his dark deadlocks back into place over his too-big ears. They hadn’t cushioned the blow much. Inside he kicked himself. Tonight was the first night his fellow Edgewood Jack Boys had trusted him to go tangle with the Boulevard Crips. He wouldn’t be spending any more afternoons packing weed into dime bags to sell to Georgia State students. They’d even given him a gun!

He looked down at the gun in his pants. His hand trembled slightly as his excitement drained away. Hopefully the Boulevard Crips wouldn’t show up.

Khaled, calm down. Bright blue eyes glared out of Xavier Williams’ coal-black face. It’s his first night out.

Khaled scowled and fiddled with the heavy gold chain around his neck before replying. May be. But I don’t want to get assed out because the Vardies saw this idiot and took precautions.

Xavier nodded and pursed his thin lips. All right. Remember the plan. The dime said DeMarcus and Darryl would be coming down this way tonight. You both saw the photos? Khaled and Javion nodded. Good. They come down this way and — He clapped his hands together. Two Vardie enforcers down.

Javion forced himself to smile. Without those two, the Jack Boys could cut into Vardie turf. More money from weed, maybe even from the pimps if they didn’t have their own organization to back them up. He’d be a real baller then. Maybe he could get Grandma and himself into a better apartment. He’d found a real nice one closer to Georgia State in that apartment guidebook. All he needed was an extra $200 per month to make rent.

He closed his eyes and hoped the other two didn’t see. God, he didn’t want to be here. Why couldn’t they just sit down with the Vardies and work this out? It’d worked back at Maynard H. when kids had beefs. A lot fewer fights that way. With how the GSU students smoked weed and all those rich pill-heads came down from Alpharetta, there was plenty for everybody.

Khaled pointed suddenly. What the fuck’s that?

Xavier pushed past Javion to eyeball the empty street. He didn’t say anything. But his eyes widened and his left hand fell to the gun in the waistband of his sagging jeans.

Javion came up behind the two older men and stood on tip-toes to see over their shoulders. Down the desolate, trash-ridden avenue cutting between two high rises floated a small gray saucer. Dark lenses opened like eyes along its side. The light of the crescent moon glinted on its shiny surface. Its passage stirred plastic bags, cigarette butts, and other debris below. "They got drones now? he asked. Like Iraq?"

Khaled snorted. Saw one of those drones on TV, and my cousin’s Army. That’s not one of those drones.

Javion’s hand sank to the stolen handgun’s pebbled grip peeking out of his waistband. Should he shoot it? If the dime was working both sides, this could all be some big setup. His hand curled around the gun. It didn’t look that tough. One or two bullets could bring it down. He’d have some real juice if he took out a drone. Maybe he could sell it for the metal down at the chop shop. Or keep it and wait for a no questions asked reward from whomever owned it.

Back in! Khaled shouted. He backed up abruptly, stopping just short of knocking Javion into the gigantic Dumpster brimming with stinking, sodden garbage. Javion sighed in relief when nothing boomed in his ears. With the gun the way it was, he didn’t want to blow off his own balls.

The drone floated past what used to be a Chinese takeout joint. The empty storefront opened like a tooth socket between the barred windows of a pawnshop and the greasy deli where Javion had gotten a big-ass Philly cheesesteak the night before. It stopped before the big windows of what was, during the day, a relatively upscale hair salon.

Directly in front of the alley. Directly in front of them.

The lenses’ empty gaze fell on Javion. Fear began its slow caterpillar-creep up his spine. His throat tightened. He steadied his trembling hand on the gun. Was whoever controlled the drones watching him? Perhaps it was sizing them to murder them. Those loudmouthed GSU students claimed the Army would hunt Americans with drones if it got away with hunting terrorists. Javion doubted the government would need even that excuse.

Then it zipped away, yanked back the way it had come like it was on an invisible chain. Khaled turned to Xavier and Javion, fearful brown eyes wide. We’ve got to get the hell out of here. That drone zips away like that, we’ve been spotted.

Xavier snorted. "You think the Vardies got a drone? We stick with the plan. Wait for Darryl and DeMarcus and then — He pulled his finger across his throat. His stern gaze swept the other two members of his crew. Got it?"

Javion looked into the alley behind them and to the black metal fire escapes overhead. "What about the cops? I bet they got drones."

We throw the guns in the Dumpster, Khaled interrupted. The drone won’t see us doing that. Without them, we’re just innocent bystanders.

Javion almost snorted. That was how he got that black mark on his record. He was minding his own business, but the Uncle Ruckus cop didn’t see it that way. And neither did the hiring manager at the Burger King, the Wendy’s, or the CVS weeks after his community service cleaning trash off the I-75 on-ramp ended. If it weren’t for Marco getting him in with the Jack Boys, he’d probably still be unemployed, even though he’d graduated high school. If cops crucified him for nothing, they’d definitely nail them for this. Khaled wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but even he couldn’t be that dumb.

Something else had seized Xavier’s attention. He pointed out the alleyway toward the street. What the fuck’s that?

Javion’s gaze followed the other man’s finger. When he saw what Xavier did, he suddenly needed to piss.

The door to one of the vacant storefronts down the street had swung open like a mouth, its gullet dark against the gray walls. Something even darker moved inside. Javion’s hands shook. He grabbed the bottom end of the fire escape to steady himself.

What emerged from the darkness walked like a man, but it wasn’t. Two huge black eyes bulged in a gray narrow face. It was like an episode of The X-Files brought to downtown Atlanta, but it was taller than the alien he’d seen on his cousin’s old DVDs. Taller and with long-ass arms. Silver lines ran down its sides and limbs and something shimmered between them, like some kind of force field.

What the fuck! Khaled hissed. He obviously hadn’t been watching The X-Files. He yanked his gun from his own waistband.

Khaled, don’t! Javion hissed, but Khaled’s gun was up and sideways in his hand. The weapon boomed in the quiet night. Sparks flew from the doorway near the alien. It turned to face them. Thunder cracked again and glass crackled in the salon window.

Hold it right, dumbass! Xavier snarled, voice high with fear. You won’t fucking hit it! The alien raised something tubular in their direction, clutched in hands that had too few fingers. Javion’s brown eyes locked with the alien’s black ones. So big, so deep. He felt himself falling into the obsidian depths like he was jumping into the YMCA pool…

Another shot seized his attention. The alien’s head snapped backward, the shimmering around its head turning white. Two more shots. The whiteness vanished. The alien slammed into the wall behind it. Black blood spattered the barred windows watching the grisly scene. It crumpled to the ground in front of the open doorway. Whatever it had in its hands clattered on the cracked asphalt of the street.

Fuck! Javion gasped. Khaled, did you just cap ET?

Blue-white light that reminded Javion all too much of a police cruiser flashed from their left. The air stank of ozone. It was Khaled’s turn to fall, thrown on his belly onto the street. Flames flickered on his jeans and leather jacket. What smelled disturbingly of barbecue filled Javion’s nostrils. Despite his growing horror he found his mouth watering. His stomach clenched. He looked away from the fallen man, hoping desperately he wouldn’t throw up in front of Xavier.

Though purple and green danced in his vision, he could still see a tall form advancing down the street from the left. Two tall forms. More aliens! He threw up all over the scattering of newspapers at his feet. Another spasm took him and he fell to his knees. The blue-white light flashed again. Xavier snarled in pain and ducked back into the alley. The smell of burning flesh grew overpowering in the narrow space. Javion peeked up. Xavier’s face was alive with pain. His left ear had been burned to something resembling an overcooked chitlin.

Son of a bitch! Xavier snarled. He fired back before retreating deeper into the alley, putting the Dumpster between them and the aliens. Javion scrambled after him. He pushed at the blue metal behemoth for a moment before giving up. He threw a glance behind him, toward the far end of the alley where it emptied onto another street.

Come on! Xavier snarled. There’re some bars open back there still. Those sons of bitches won’t come where more folk than they can kill will see them!

Images of the aliens murdering the motley mix of second-shift workers and students still out this late, of flashing blue lights and cooking flesh, rose unbidden into Javion’s mind. If Xavier’s gamble failed, a lot more than they would die. No! he snarled.

Xavier’s face grew hard. What the fuck to you have in mind then? He looked up over the Dumpster and fired again. Javion looked up, gaze falling on the skeletal fire escape crawling up the wall like a black metal spider.

Up there! he pointed. Hit them from above!

Xavier snorted. They’ll be able to hit us too!

Javion’s mind whirled. Not if we’re quick.

Xavier scowled. You first then. Javion nodded quickly and jumped onto the ladder’s first rungs. He scrambled up, nearly hitting his head on the underside of the first platform in his haste. As he started the climb toward the second platform, he got a look at the alley entrance below.

Two aliens leaned around the corner. Both had the same type weapons as the first. They replied to Xavier’s gunshots with bursts of what looked like some kind of energy. Streaks of hot red marred the Dumpster below. Two against one were bad odds, and they had some kind of shield.

Javion tore the gun from his waistband. He’d made some practice shots before, but never used it for real. Hand trembling around its grip, he brought it upward. Despite his fear, part of him felt like laughing. The gray bastards would never see this coming.

Thunder cracked as he squeezed the trigger. Sparks flew from the wall just beyond the Dumpster. One alien ducked out of the way. He fired again. His bullet hit the alien in the arm, the odd shimmering around the limb turning white. Javion fired a third time. The bullet caught the creature in the midsection. The blow pushed it back like a punch to the gut, the region of the field encasing it turning white where the bullet hit home.

Definitely force fields. Like in Independence Day.

Khaled killing the first alien showed the fields could be overloaded, but Javion’s shots weren’t doing that. And neither were Xavier’s.

Xavier! Javion shouted. Now!

The fire escape trembled as Xavier started climbing. Javion jammed the gun back into his pants and resumed his ascent, quickly reaching the third story. There were only a couple more levels between himself and the top.

Movement in the alley entrance caught his attention. The aliens were still in the game. He yanked the gun out, but the aliens were quicker. Blue-white fire slammed into the brick wall beside his head. A chunk of brick slammed into his left arm. Before he could tumble off the ladder Javion instinctively grabbed onto it with his right hand. His gun fell, banging against the fire escape once before vanishing into the Dumpster’s filthy maw.

Xavier scrambled up onto the platform below. Hurry! Javion shouted, climbing almost to the next platform to make room. Xavier’s right hand was on the ladder when the blue lights slammed into the metal platform below the bigger gangbanger’s feet. Brick erupted from the wall. Black metal glowed red-hot against the building beneath Xavier. The fire escape groaned. A glowing screw popped from the wall. A second screw followed. The metal groaned even louder. The aliens’ weapons flashed again. The blue lights slammed into the wall farther down.

Javion’s stomach roiled. His grip on the ladder tightened. The metal bit into his palms. He knew what was coming next.

Xavier’s bulk began pulling the fire escape away from the building. Javion grabbed for Xavier’s hand, but missed.

Get out of here, you dumb fuck! Those were Xavier’s last words as the fire escape tore free. It toppled sideways into the side of the adjacent building, yanking Xavier’s hand away from the ladder’s remains. The impact knocked Xavier from his perch. He tumbled through the air until another blast from the aliens below slashed into him. He hit the ground in two pieces.

That was enough for Javion. He scrambled up the ladder like the demons from the deliverance ministry down the street were at his heels. Thankfully no further shots followed. As he pulled himself over the edge of the building, hope surged in his chest. Up here the aliens in the alley couldn’t see him and thanks to their destruction of the fire escape, they couldn’t climb after him.

Those hopes didn’t survive what waited atop the building. Three more aliens stood amid the plain of gravel, the moonlight behind them casting shadows that made them look even taller. All three had weapons in their hands.

Javion threw his hands up, all thought of fight gone forever. Don’t shoot! he begged. Hands up! Don’t shoot! Maybe the aliens wouldn’t be as merciless as the cops...

Quick as one of those cobras from Zoo Atlanta, one leaped forward and struck with the butt of its weapon. Darkness.

Chapter One

The dark-haired graduate student who didn’t really belong flicked the switch, pouring light back into the beige-walled Georgia State University classroom. James Daly blinked his blue eyes as his vision adjusted.

Thank you, David, tall and angular Dr. Gantz said. He turned away from the lanky young man who still had acne even though he looked a decade older than the undergraduates in the world history class. So tell me, what do you think is wrong with this movie’s depiction of Attila? A white girl with too many piercings James didn’t know well raised her hand. Erica?

Attila the Hun wasn’t white. He wasn’t that tall either.

Most definitely. Dr. Gantz’s long-fingered hands danced on the keyboard. The image of Gerard Butler with long hair and a red tunic under his black armor fell away, replaced with a selection from the late Roman historian Ammianus Marcellinus. Marcellinus described the Huns as being stout and bow-legged. Hardly Gerard Butler material, the professor said as James dutifully copied down the ancient text. The class laughed. Even James smiled. I’ll leave the politics of that to Dr. Jefferson and her ethnic cinema class.

A new image appeared on the projector. It showed a group of mounted men with vaguely Asian features, some wearing fur hats and others conical metal helmets, riding their horses over piles of enemy dead. Some fired arrows at fleeing foes, while others cast javelins. In the far left of the screen, what looked like Roman legionaries fled pell-mell before the mounted terror.

The Huns fought primarily as cavalry, which is what made them so dangerous. Dr. Gantz pointed at a mounted warrior. They were faster and more mobile than any foot armies. They could hit and run, cutting an army to pieces with a thousand cuts, or use false retreats to lure enemies into the killing ground. It was the Huns who drove the Goths into the Eastern Roman Empire. Can anyone tell me what happened at Adrianople and the battle’s historical significance? Nobody answered. Dr. Gantz looked across the room before his gaze settled on James. James?

The Goths curb-stomped the Romans.

"Such a charming way to describe it. Sometime snickered in the back. James scowled. Could you go into more detail?"

James racked his brain. He had read the textbook chapter and even the Wikipedia article for good measure, but the details fled his mind. Cavalry. The Goths had better cavalry and crushed the Roman infantry. This was the first sign cavalry had surpassed infantry.

Dr. Gantz nodded. "That was the historical consensus. Somebody’s been reading his Charles Oman. However, history is a science and our theories must change if they don’t fit the available evidence. T.S. Burns wrote in 1973 that the Goths didn’t have many cavalry at Adrianople. In fact, the Romans had more. Although the cavalry proved the decisive element in that battle, it was mostly infantry versus infantry."

The professor turned to face the class. As James described so well — a smile crossed James’ wide freckled face, pushing up against the long red scar marring his left cheek — "the Goths inflicted a decisive defeat on the Romans. The Emperor Valens died on the field. The next emperor, Theodosius, managed to ‘tame’ them, but the Goths remained a distinct entity within Roman frontiers. They were sometimes allies, as the later war with Attila showed, but could also be