Blood Red Sand
Page 27
Corporal Brown shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not so sure. Things are different here. It’s not like we can fly in reinforcements from Britain or the US. We’re totally cut off, surrounded by a hostile population with nowhere to retreat to but two heavily damaged floating wrecks in orbit. We’re a good year away from rescue at best. I’d say an insurgency would stand a good chance.”
“Jim.”
“Yeah, Sarge.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Okay, Sarge.”
McCabe stared at Corporal Brown until he rolled over and fell quiet. With a heavy sigh, McCabe returned his head to his backpack and glanced up at the cracked ceiling above. Although the MEF had declared victory over the Nazis, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Good men had given their lives to rid the universe of the last fragments of the Third Reich. MJ-12’s intervention and the way the Nazis surrendered towards the end made him wonder what was really going on.
His mind ran over events surrounding the Black Visors. Everything about their presence seemed bizarre. He replayed Dub’s words again, trying to piece the titbits of information together, but his mind screamed for sleep. He closed his eyes once more and felt himself drift off.
“Excuse me, Sergeant, messenger here for you.”
McCabe snapped upright and focused his worn eyes on the figure at the door. He blinked until he recognised Private Jones, one of the soldiers he had assigned to guard duty.
“How long have I been out?” he asked, squinting to check the time on his watch.
“About five minutes, Sarge. Messenger here from Major Wellesley.”
“Send him in.”
Jones stood aside and allowed another private to enter the office. The private stood to attention and held out the message in his hand. McCabe snatched the paper off him and dismissed him with a growl as he checked the contents of the message. It took him three attempts to fully process the words before he crumpled up the paper and tossed it away.
“Jim, Boris. Wake up.”
The NCOs rolled over and gazed at him with tired eyes.
“Come on, time to get up, lads. There’s been an incident. A Wehrmacht barracks has been raided and some weapons stolen. Looks like we’ve been assigned to werewolf hunting duty.”
“Told you,” Corporal Brown groaned. He sat up and started dragging on his gear.
McCabe reached for his backpack, belt, and Lee-Enfield. With a shake of his head, he eyed his colleague and let out another exhausted sigh. “You know what, Jim? I think we’re in for a very long year.”
“Kill them all,” Junior Sergeant Alexeev grunted and swung his AK-47 into his hands.
With a silent nod to one another, the three NCOs rallied their men to go hunt werewolves on Mars.
The End
About the Author
Damien Larkin is an Irish science fiction author and co-founder of the British and Irish Writing Community. His debut novel Big Red was published by Dancing Lemur Press and went on to be longlisted for the BSFA award for Best Novel. He currently lives in Dublin, Ireland.
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