Blood Red Sand

by Damien Larkin

  Brandt found himself ordered again to do nothing. Slamming down his transmitter’s handset, he cursed under his breath. He ran a hand under his chin and scratched his skin as he thought. After a moment, he raised the binoculars to his eyes again. The advancing under-strength company continued on their course parallel to his position. Like a predator ready to mete out a death blow, he could lash out at them, catch them in his claws. But unless they turned towards him, he remained unable to engage. The frustration within him growing, he lowered his binoculars and turned to Captain Fischer.

  “I will not have my hands tied behind my back while our city burns. Ready the men to move. It’s time to get our hands dirty.”

  Without delay, Captain Fischer sprang from the panzer and sprinted towards the closest factory. Seconds later, German soldiers poured from their hideouts, brandishing their weapons. While Brandt turned his panzers about to cut off the Allied advance, the infantry men broke down into smaller groups to hit the unsuspecting British company from the flanks and rear.

  With his gaze scanning the sky above for signs of Allied aerial craft, his panzers lumbered down one of the ravaged streets. He listened to the movements of the infantry on his comm, plotting out their locations in his mind. With luck, they could sneak through the alleyways that lined the Allied approach and set up an ambush to cut them to pieces. Spurring his panzers onwards, he watched German soldiers creep closer. His lead panzer ground to a halt near the intersection connecting to the street the unsuspecting British found themselves traversing. After confirming everyone stood ready, he gave the order, and his panzers drove forward again.

  Raising his pistol, he smiled when his lead panzer wheeled about and turned right into the head of the Allied invaders. Stunned British soldiers froze at the sight of so many armoured monsters storming towards them. The panzers boomed to life.

  Shells sent the British soldiers scurrying for cover and burst those too slow to react to pieces. Machine gun fire blared with unrepentant vehemence as the infantry units on the flanks let loose their grenades. Like gazelles being hunted by a pack of starved predators, the Allied force swung about from side-to-side unsure of where to concentrate their fire.

  Ushering the infantry behind his panzers onwards, Brandt leapt down onto the rubble-strewn ground. Bullets pinged around him as the British company panic-fired at the Wehrmacht soldiers attacking them from all directions. Heart thumping, Brandt ignored the bullets whizzing through the air, took aim with his Luger, and fired a single shot at a British soldier, who hit the ground, clasping at his neck. From the left flank and the rear, his infantry units advanced with their bayonets fixed, stabbing and slashing at the enemy. Men from both sides fell to the destructive flurry of lead or the wave of sharpened blades fixed to the end of rifles.

  After a few short minutes, the skirmish ended. The bodies of British soldiers lay mangled across the ruined street. Limbs sat severed atop rubble, and chunks of flesh and blood dripped from the walls of broken shops and burnt-out houses. A handful of British soldiers who had thrown down their arms and surrendered stood encircled by the men of the Wehrmacht.

  Taking off his hat to wipe his brow, Brandt moved in closer to inspect his prisoners. He holstered his weapon as he approached and stopped at the feet of a soldier wearing a colour sergeant’s stripes. The NCO wheezed as he struggled to breathe. His left hand covered a gaping wound in his stomach, and he stretched out his bloodied right hand. As if studying an oddity, Brandt glared down at the wounded man.

  The prisoner muttered something over and over again.

  “What is he saying?” Brandt asked, turning to Captain Fischer.

  “He’s requesting a medic and asking for help.”

  Brandt returned his attention to the wounded colour sergeant. “I see.” Taking to a knee, he extended his gloved left hand towards the British NCO. “Come on,” he said softly, knowing the soldier didn’t understand him. “Come on. I’ll get you some help.”

  The British colour sergeant nodded in earnest when his hand connected with Brandt’s. He forced a smile across his pained face and continued chattering in his bastard tongue as Brandt pulled him up. The smile faded the moment Brandt thrust his blade into the colour sergeant’s chest. With shock stamped across his face, the prisoner looked down and blinked at the knife buried deep in his flesh. Smiling, Brandt twisted his blade, and the light faded from the prisoner’s eyes.

  “There’s your help.” Brandt released the body and let it slump back onto the hard ground.

  The captured British soldiers all started shouting. Even with bayonets and barrels aimed at them, some of them made to lunge at their captors.

  Wiping the blood from his knife, Brandt nodded towards Captain Fischer. “Well, what are you waiting for, Captain? Execute them.”

  Grinning from ear to ear, Brandt returned to his panzer to the sound of a volley of shots.

  COMMAND AND CONTROL BUILDING, GOVERNMENT DISTRICT

  22.29 MST

  DAY 1

  Reichsführer Wagner marvelled at his creation. Anna Bailey’s chest rose and fell where she lay on the trolley. Her eyelids were closed as if in a peaceful slumber. His gaze worked their way over the curves hidden beneath her hospital gown and rested on the delicate features of her face. Although her new Hollow body looked identical to her wounded, original body, something had changed. She looked angelic.

  Slipping off the glove on his right hand, he took a step closer. With his fingers trembling in anticipation, he extended a hand towards her soft porcelain skin. The need to touch her grew stronger, urging him on. The moment his fingertips could feel the warmth of her cheek, Anna let out a sigh. With her eyes closed, she fidgeted, as if searching for a more comfortable position. Wagner snapped his hand back and nearly laughed. Feeling like a schoolboy caught red-handed, he pulled his glove back on and beamed down at his prize.

  “There’s no need for games, Miss Bailey. I know you’re awake.”

  Wearing a smile as warm as the kiss from a summer sun, Anna opened her piercing blue eyes. She stretched her limbs before resting her head against her shoulder like a pillow and gazed up at him. A surge of longing rushed through Wagner as he drank in the sight of her. Yet he knew her well enough to know she was attempting to manipulate him. Even as she tried to tease him with her gaze, out of his periphery vision, he noticed her index finger probe the strap restraining her left hand.

  “I’m surprised you don’t have a new medal pinned to your chest, Herr Reichsführer.” A small smile crept across her face. “After all the lives you’ve taken to achieve your goals, I would have thought the Führer himself would be here in person to reward you.”

  Wagner placed his hands behind his back and smiled. “This has never been about rewards, Miss Bailey. This is about humanity’s future. Everything we have achieved together brings us one step closer to unlocking the potential that we as a race have long since forgotten.”

  “And the Jewish laborers you experimented on,” Anna said, her voice hardening. “Will they be remembered?”

  “Casualties of war,” he said in a calm voice.

  Reaching across from where he stood, Wagner pulled out a chair. After placing it so that he sat directly in Anna’s eyeline, he took his seat. She looked longingly at him, and yet, buried beneath those deep blue eyes, he sensed her rage. If at any point she could free herself, he held no doubt that she’d snap his neck like a twig.

  “Have you ever met any of the so-called native humans that live on Mars, Miss Bailey?”

  “Briefly, Herr Reichsführer.”

  “These Natives have a saying. ‘We have always been here.’ Have you ever heard this expression?”

  “I can’t say that I have.”

  Wagner nodded at that. For a moment, he thought back to his days of being a schoolteacher. Long before the war and the Nazi party; before fate and providence sent him on his hallowed journey. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet he missed shaping the minds of the next
generation. More than anything, he wished he could make Anna see the truth, like the pupils he had educated. If only she knew what her sacrifice meant for humanity and how humankind would benefit.

  “Some of my colleagues believe this expression merely states the obvious,” Wagner said, “that humanity has always lived on this planet. That alone opens another series of questions as to how two branches of the same species could evolve on two separate worlds, does it not?”

  “I suppose so, Herr Reichsführer. One I’m sure you and your learned colleagues have solved over the last decade.”

  “Quite so. However, I take this phrase to mean something entirely different. That everyone is doing exactly what they should be doing at the right place and the right time. You and I have always been in this moment, Miss Bailey. We were always destined to be here and play our respective parts.”

  Now Anna smiled back. Even when she checked the straps that held her down for weaknesses, she maintained her flirtatious behaviour. Every gesture and movement she made was calculated to influence him. He sensed it from the way his heartbeat increased at the sight of her bare shoulder or the way she bit the inside of her lower lip from time to time; she’d glance away as soon as he caught her.

  Despite her games, the need for her to understand him overpowered his own biological urges. In all the universe, he had never known a woman like her. In the old world, he could never be with someone of Jewish descent, but they stood on the brink of a new epoch. If he could make her understand her place, then she could decide that place lay at his side.

  Wagner shifted his gaze to the ground. “I know I have hurt people. I know you have witnessed this and have experienced some of this cruelty first-hand. But everything I have done was meant to save lives in the wars to come. Imagine a world where soldiers cannot be killed, Miss Bailey. One where all their experience and training can be saved, ready to be shared with another generation of soldiers. In time, we may be able to develop a system of bringing soldiers killed on the battlefield back to life. This is one of the reasons behind the Hollow Programme, to usher in a new era of warfare.”

  “I can see you are passionate about this,” Anna said, focusing the full force of her attention upon him. “Even I must admit, transferring consciousness from one body to another has endless military capabilities. But the idea of my experiences and memories being shared with others is, quite frankly, offensive. They are mine and mine alone. As for dying, every soldier knows what they sign up for. The fear of death has kept me alive on more occasions than I care to remember. Remove that and all you’ll have are pigs willingly marching to the slaughter.”

  “You still don’t understand,” Wagner said with a shake of his head. “You still can’t see.”

  Wagner rose to his feet and moved across the room towards one of the desks. He removed his hat and gloves and placed them neatly side by side on the desk. Next, he pulled off his trench coat, folded it, and sat it across the back of one of the chairs. Then he spun about and unholstered his sidearm. Anna studied the weapon in his hand before he placed that, too, on the desk.

  Wagner slipped a hand into his pocket and produced a set of keys. While he ordered his thoughts, he fidgeted nervously with the keys. After a brief moment of hesitation, he took a few paces towards Anna’s trolley, the keys dangling from his finger.

  “The natives of this world tell a story,” he began. “A story that predates our own remembered history. A story of a great war between the ancient masters and the lesser worlds, one which transformed this once-rich paradise into the barren hellhole we call Mars. This war was fought with weapons of unimaginable destruction, but on the ground, soldiers were required. These soldiers needed to be resilient, obedient, and utterly devoted to their just cause. The natives say that many of these soldiers came from Earth.”

  He peered down at Anna’s face, searching for any sign of genuine interest. He saw what she wanted him to see, but in her eyes, he sensed her fury and disbelief.

  “A fascinating story, Herr Reichsführer.”

  Taking a step closer to the foot of her bed, he held the jumble of keys out. After flicking through them, he selected one and inserted it into the lock that restrained her right foot. With a careful turn the lock sprung open. Anna moved her ankle from side to side, lifting it slightly, clearly unsure why he would take such a risk. With one limb free, she became more dangerous than the average prisoner. He glanced up at her again, and curiosity furrowed across her brows.

  “As the war raged, the ancient masters, the false gods of our history, faltered. They turned their eyes upon our world, a planet filled with primitives, once obedient to the false gods but now in open rebellion. They unleashed their vengeance, but the people of this world paid the price. The so-called natives, an advanced race in their own right, took pity upon our child-like ancestors. They sacrificed their own home world that ours may live.”

  Leaning across her, he unlocked her left ankle. She pulled her legs in closer to her. At any point she could lash out, locking him in a vice-like grip before snapping his neck. Instead, she studied him, her eyebrows narrowing.

  “With the lesser races on the verge of winning, the old gods retreated to their heavenly lair, turning their backs on the fallen and leaving them to their own devices. In time, all memory of their presence was forgotten or removed, save for myths and ancient stories. Civilisations that had thrived on Earth, bringing us knowledge and enlightenment not seen again until this century, collapsed into the dust. We descended once again into savagery, everything we had once been forgotten to the mists of time.”

  Pacing to the head of the bed, Wagner gazed down at his captive. With a deep breath, he leaned across her to free her left hand. At any point, she could sink her teeth into his neck and tear out his throat. With her left hand free, nothing stood in her way of choking him or striking him hard enough to knock him unconscious. But she moved her free hand to her stomach and rested it there while she watched him.

  “According to the natives, the old gods are rising again. These so-called Annunaki have awoken from their ancient slumber and cast their greedy eyes on what was once theirs. They covet their place in the universe. While this is happening, our people are busy fighting pointless wars based on race, resources, and territory. We are not ready, Miss Bailey. But thanks to my work, we will be.”

  With another twist of his wrist, Wagner freed the last of Anna’s restraints and took a step back. She sat upright on her trolley and caressed her wrists. He took another step away, giving her the space to swing her feet off the trolley. Watching him, she moved forward and stood in front of him. She stretched her limbs and rotated her joints.

  “I have one final question for you, Herr Reichsführer.” She flexed her fingers into fists. “This talk of old gods I take to mean aliens of some sort. Is that correct? Surely this is the stuff of legends.”

  Wagner chuckled. “Why, of course, Miss Bailey. There is no such thing as aliens, that I am aware of. Only humans killing other humans. The way it’s always been.”

  Anna took another step towards him until she stood within arm’s length. The scent of her hair invigorated him, and the sight of her face so close to his set his blood on fire. If he was to die, he could think of no other sight in the world to be his last.

  “Well,” she said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “I would like to say this has been a pleasure, Herr Reichsführer, but, quite frankly, you’re a monster. I don’t agree with torture myself, but I would indeed enjoy making you suffer for as long as possible. Luckily for you, I’ve had quite enough of your company, so I shall bid you adieu, you Nazi pig.”

  She lunged.

  Wagner didn’t see the blow coming but sensed a momentary blur. He turned to see her fist had halted centimetres from his face.

  He smirked.

  In disbelief, Anna whipped her fist back and lashed out with the other. It looked like a deathblow if Wagner had ever seen one, but her hand froze again before it
could strike him.

  He turned his back on her and paced across the room towards his hat, trench coat, and gun. The soft patter of her feet sounded when she raced to leap at him or snap his neck. After he reached the desk, he spun about and pulled on his trench coat.

  Anna’s face boiled red with fury, and she lashed out with her limbs, but her every attack was blocked from connecting to his body by an unseen force. She screamed as she exerted her reserves of energy to tear him to pieces but to no avail. He slipped on his gloves and hat and picked up his sidearm. He held it out towards her and offered no resistance when she snatched it from his hand. She cocked it and aimed the weapon right at his forehead, but as her finger inched for the trigger, her entire hand started trembling. Written across her face was her desire to kill him and the growing frustration at being stopped by some invisible entity.

  “Sit,” he commanded.

  Without hesitation, she took a seat on the nearest chair. He snatched back his weapon and holstered it. Wagner grinned as she sat there, her hands resting on her knees. Her head tilted slightly upright, and she gazed straight ahead, unmoving, like a well-trained dog.

  “You’re a Hollow now,” Wagner said. “Devoid of soul and free will. Your personality, memories, and training remain yours, but you are mine to command now. You are the first of many, Miss Bailey. You are the mother of hundreds of thousands of unborn children that will inhabit bodies even more advanced than yours. You and your kind will take humanity into the next era. Your progeny will help us forge a new identity. One where we are no longer Aryan, Jew, Saxon, or Slav. One where we are all Terran.”

  Frozen on her seat, a single tear trickled from Anna’s eye.