“They must have gotten something,” said the German, lengthening his stride.
“I’ll defer to you on that,” said Levine, quickening his own pace. “The last time I dealt with mortars was during the American Civil War, and that was a different beast.”
“Shit,” exclaimed Kurt when firing broke out ahead. He quickened his walk to a jog, weaving around people on the side of the path, his friend keeping pace. The firing quickened and Kurt broke into a run.
Turning a slight curve in the road he found himself looking at the developing fire fight, as German soldiers fought at close quarters with Orcs and Elves.
“Let’s hit them,” he yelled while he pulled his sword from the long sheath on his back.
With a loud roar the big German ran into the battle, swinging his sword overhead. Within seconds there were dozens of enemy warriors heading his way, preferring to meet an opponent's sword to sword instead of dealing with opponents who struck unfairly from a distance with weapons that killed too quickly for their liking. Moments later those enemies regretted that decision.
* * *
Lieutenant Jacquelyn Smith hurtled the body of one of the Elves that had attempted to get in her way. She had shot the man through the face after the first two rounds she sent his way bounced from his armor. She was learning that some of the enemy soldiers had much better equipment than others. And those needed head shots to take out.
Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she twisted and jumped as the arrow came hissing at her, flying past her shoulder. The US Army officer pulled her rifle to her shoulder, brought the archer into her sights, and squeezed off a round. The man’s head splattered inside his helmet and his lifeless hands let fly an arrow that flew aimlessly into space.
Jackie turned in time to bring her rifle around to block the thrust of a sword. She back peddled as she brought the rifle down and fired from the hip, striking the Orc swordsman in the throat. The Orc attempted to come on, only to fall to his knees as he choked on his blood. She looked down at her assault rifle, one she had picked up moments ago when an ax had smashed the action of her American made weapon. The sword had only nicked the barrel guard.
The Lieutenant felt more fully alive than she had ever imagined she could feel, here in the midst of battle. Her senses were sharp, her situational awareness at a new height, her reflexes lightning, and she dodged in and out of the melee as if her opponents were handicapped. Arrows and spears came her way, dodged easily as if they were traveling in slow motion. Sword and axmen died just out of their reach of her, as she snapped off shots and killed without thought. Troops gathered to her as she fought, recognizing a war leader that would carry them to victory.
Her German made assault rifle empty, the officer squatted for a moment over a soldier who had been killed by an arrow through the neck. She avoided looking at his staring eyes, which brought the reality of the situation too close to home; making the game she had been playing a horrible event that snuffed the lives from young men. She unbuckled the web gear and pulled it from the man, taking his full load of ammo with it and slinging it over her shoulder. Then it was back to the business of killing her enemies and guarding the flanks of her friends.
A roar from ahead caught her attention as she ran forward. She was aware that there was still fighting behind her, as more of the enemy came out of the woods and more Germans fought their way forward. But from the sounds up ahead the battle was raging, and that was where she wanted to be.
Jackie skidded to a halt on the grass as she came around a turn and saw what lay ahead. She had not imagined that the enemy would have anything like the three creatures she saw killing Germans with the huge maces in their hands. An APC lay tilted over on the side of the road, the turret on top dislodged from its mount. The Lieutenant didn’t hesitate, fear totally removed from her adrenaline charged system. She ran forward at a sprint, yelling at the top of her lungs and firing her rifle at the nearest creature.
The Troll swiveled in mid step towards the soldier, bringing its shield up to bat the bullets from the American’s rifle away. She ran toward it, firing low now, watching as her bullets bounced off its skin and wondering for a moment what the hell she was doing. Then she was in range of its mace and the creature swept the weapon down to crush her.
Jackie dodged away from the blow and the monster brought the blunt weapon down onto the ground. It pulled the mace back and attempted a backhand swing at the woman. Jackie ducked under the blow. It brought the mace back again on a downswing, this time missing the leaping woman.
Another roar brought a shiver down the young woman’s spine, breaking through the warrior’s trance she had been a captive of, and she realized that another of the monsters was on her, coming in from behind. She caught a glimpse over her shoulder and dove forward, tucking into a roll that brought her between the legs of the first Troll, and the second missed with its swing, almost hitting its fellow, who gave an accusatory roar in return.
I need a better weapon, thought Jackie, feeling the inadequacy of the rifle in her hands. She couldn’t really use an auto cannon, it being too big and bulky to carry. And all the ones in the area were already manned. A grenade launcher might do some damage, but she didn’t have one of those either.
Jackie’s thoughts were interrupted as she became aware that the Troll she had dodged through the legs of was rearing up over her. She quickly dodged from its downward swing, then ducked the swing of the other Troll, then leapt backwards ten meters from the beasts, her eyes searching for a weapon.
How in the hell did I jump so far, she thought as the leap registered on her mind. Then time for thinking was gone as both Trolls came at her again, moving so they would come in on opposite sides. Jackie moved into a graceful dance that was perfectly timed, making both of the Trolls miss with multiple swings. The creatures stopped for a moment as the human back flipped away, staring stupidly at each other as their tiny minds tried to come up with a strategy to take the annoying warrior out of the fight.
Jackie noticed that she was not even breathing hard. Her reflexes were much faster than she had ever remembered them being. She was dancing around the creatures like Spiderman, one of her favorite comic characters. And while she wasn’t doing the creatures any damage, she was keeping them occupied, away from harming any of her fellow soldiers.
I wonder how strong I am, she thought, moving fluidly to keep the Trolls off balance. With a thought she was moving in, bringing her leg in as she leapt through the air. Her right leg rocketed out and struck her target Troll in the face. She was ready to ride through the kick and land on the monster as it went over. Reality was very different. Her foot hit the monster in the face, the shock transferred up her leg, and she bounced off with a sickening crunch of broken bone in her ankle, while the creature staggered back about a half meter.
Jackie landed on her back, feeling the agonizing pain in her ankle as the ground jarred her. She ignored the pain to the best of her ability, and rolled away as the second Troll brought his mace down on where she had been. Rolling up onto her feet, she felt nausea almost take her down again as the pain shot up her leg from the ankle. She backed up as fast as she could, hopping on her good foot, keeping a wary eye on the two Trolls that came after her with snarling faces.
A mace came at her from head high, and Jackie ducked under the weapon, then jumped with her good leg into the air over the second mace that was coming in at her waist. She was surprised that she still cleared the second mace, and came down well balanced on her one leg. The first Troll came at her with a back swing and she back peddled away, forgetting her injured ankle and surprised that it held up so well. Jumping over another swing and twisting in the air, she landed on both feet and felt no pain.
I know the damned thing was broken, she thought as she ran around the Trolls on both feet. But now there was no pain and the ankle was functioning perfectly. And the Trolls were again roaring in frustration as they chased after her.
Lieutenant S
mith felt the physical shock of the arrow before she felt the pain. The arrow sliced through the back of her body armor, through her lower left thoracic region, nicking the heart, and out through the front of her armor. She looked down at the red dripping head of the arrow before the intense pain hit her brain. She could feel blood in her throat and coughed, which caused more pain. The roar of the Troll came to her as from a distance.
Something slammed into her hip and she was flying through the air. The agony in her side was warring for space in her awareness with the agony in her abdomen. Light and shadow flashed by before she hit the ground, adding more pain to the mix. She lay on her back, trying to pull air into her lungs through the pain of broken ribs, feeling the tread of massive feet approaching and knowing that any moment she would be smashed to jelly under a massive mace. That was her last thought as blackness unfolded over her brain and the world faded away.
* * *
Sergeant Mier couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The American officer was battling the two Trolls, keeping them occupied. She was moving with unbelievable speed and coordination, making the huge creatures seem even clumsier than they were. They were missing her with every strike, while she moved like the hero in some Oriental martial arts flick. Then she hit the one Troll with a kick and injured herself. The injury couldn’t have been too bad, because within moments she was back to moving like a superhero.
Mier felt the shock of the arrow piercing the young black woman as if it had hit him. She staggered from the obviously mortal blow. One of the Trolls then lifted her from the ground with a swing like a golf stroke, sending her flying through the air fifty meters to land hard on her back.
Mier looked around for a moment, spotting the Elf who had fired the arrow. The man was drawing back another long shaft and sighting in on something. Mier brought his rifle up to his shoulder, developed a good sight picture, and send a short burst at the Elf. One round impacted the bow and knocked it out of alignment just as the Elf was releasing the arrow. The other two rounds hit in throat and lower face, killing the Elf instantly. Mier sprayed bursts at the other Elves moving past the bowman, scoring a couple of hits and making the others drop to the ground. He then turned his attention back to the woman and the Trolls.
The Trolls were walking toward her with their ponderous gait, waving their maces and roaring their anger and hate, while she lay unmoving on her back. Mier dropped the magazine from his rifle and slapped another in as he ran toward the Trolls. As soon as he snapped the mag into place and released the bolt forward he stopped, brought the rifle up, and sprayed the magazine at the monsters. Sparks flew where the 6mm rounds hit the heavy armor. The Trolls screamed and one turned to the others to grunt out something in their language. One Troll turned back and continued on to the woman, while the other strode toward the Sergeant with blood in its eyes.
Mier slapped another mag in the rifle and aimed carefully, sighting in on the face of the creature, determined to do some damage before the monster took him out. The Sergeant felt the rifle recoil gently into his shoulder as he fired on sustained full automatic, striking most of the rounds into the face. The creature roared as it brought its hand up over its face. Some blackish blood spurted into the air and the creature roared again. The monster pulled its arm down and shuffled toward the Sergeant, the orbits where its eyes had been now blood filled holes.
Mier ran to the side of the now blind creature and looked over at the woman. She was unmoving on the ground, and the other Troll was standing over her, mace gripped in both hands and raised overhead. Mier fired off his remaining three rounds, striking the creature on the back. It hesitated for a second, then brought the mace down. The Sergeant opened his mouth to scream, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop the monster. That was when the second superhero struck.
* * *
Kurt swung the long sword from the side into the Elf. The Ellala attempted to get his shield in the way, but the big immortal was moving too fast. The blade struck the Ellala in the ribs. The Elf whooshed out the air in his lungs and started to fold to the side while he was lifted from the ground. The Ellala flew through the air to land twenty meters away, his face contorted in pain.
Kurt swore to himself as he ran on, leaving the finishing of the swordsman to another. He had felt his blade striking the armor of the Elf. He couldn’t feel the sword cut through, and he suspected the magical quality of the Elf’s armor had repelled his blade. Only Kurt’s great strength had taken the Elf out of the fight.
I need something a little better, he thought, as he brought his sword up, then down onto the shield of an Orc. The blade cut through the shield and into the arm underneath. The Orc cried out, dropped his shield arm down, and screamed again as the sword came around and cut through his mail, crumpling the creature’s side in a splash of blood. Kurt kicked the creature away and moved on, noting out of the corner of his eye that Levine had taken the throat from another Orc.
Kurt knew that the blade he was using would have been a holy terror on Earth. Just under two meters long, with over a meter and a half of blade, it was constructed of the strongest tungsten-carbide, with a laser sharpened edge. With the German’s size and strength it would have defeated any true medieval armor. But some of the armors here were tempered with magical protection, and the sword was not cutting through them like it should. Perhaps an enchantment placed on the sword, he thought, as he lopped the sword arm off another Orc, then brought the blade around to deflect an ax.
Something hit hard on the side of Kurt’s helmet, bouncing off to the side. The big German spun around, spotting an archer in the distance who was drawing another shaft back on his bow. The man released as Kurt brought his sword up to guard position. He caught the incoming arrow on the blade, breaking the shaft and spinning it off into the air. Not that he was worried about the arrow actually penetrating his armor, but being shot at was exhilarating. A couple of bursts of automatic fire took down the archer and a few of his companions, the accompanying German infantry doing their job.
Kurt turned and moved ahead, cutting down a pair of Orcs while Levine cut through a trio of others. The way cleared for a moment and there were no more opponents in the way. Kurt looked back over his shoulder, seeing that the infantry was cleaning up the enemy on this section of road. With a nod at Levine Kurt ran up the roadway, turning the corner to look down another couple hundred meters of straight road.
The old German pulled up as soon as he caught sight of what was down that road. Levine skidded to a halt beside him and swore in Hebrew. Kurt could understand the feeling, because he really couldn’t believe the three creatures he was watching.
From the scale of the people and vehicles around them they had to stand over three meters tall, maybe just a bit less than four meters. And if they didn’t weigh at least a ton he was a Russian. There were a couple of burning vehicles, including a truck and a couple of cars that looked like they had been flipped over, proving the strength of the creatures. One of the monsters was chasing some German soldiers at the far observable end of the road. Another was stumbling around with its hands over its face, black blood shining on its throat and upper chest. And a third was rearing up with a mace, about to bring it down on a body lying on the ground. Germans were firing at all three of the monsters, and the bullets were bouncing off, even where they hit exposed flesh.
Kurt looked at the closest monster, the one about to smash someone helpless on the ground. A German soldier fired at the monster, tracers bouncing from the helmet and body plate of the creature. The monster hesitated for an instant, turning his head to look at the German, then turned back toward his victim.
Kurt exploded into a sprint toward the Troll, for such he was already calling it in his head. His legs pumped smoothly as he ran as fast as the fastest Olympic sprinter, though more burdened than the athlete, hauling his armor and weapon along with him. The Troll was bringing his mace down, and Kurt could see the body of a dark skinned woman in military fatigues lying on the ground, about to
receive the blow.
The two handed sword came in at the closest arm of the creature as the mace passed its waist. Kurt put all of his strength into the blow, and the laser sharpened blade hit at the elbow, directly above the forearm guard. The blade sliced through the rock hard skin with a solid chunking sound. Black blood spurted into the air. The Troll roared and spun toward the German, the mace missing the target as the damaged arm’s hand lost its grip on the weapon.
Kurt’s arms shook as the blade stopped on hitting the granite like bones of the creature. He pulled the blade free and backed up as the monster turned its attention to him. Kurt brought his sword up to a guard position as the monster advanced, swinging the mace in its off hand.
The mace swung out as the monster went into the attack. It swung the mace in and the German grabbed the hand grip on his blade and went for a two handed block, catching the haft of the blunt weapon on the blade between the grips. Kurt tensed as the weapons met, locking his arms in place. Despite his demigod like strength the monster out massed him by a factor of eight or more, and the German was pushed backwards by the hit, his booted feet sliding on the turf.
The monster clumsily brought his mace back for another strike, and the German moved in, dropping his left hand back to the handle of his sword and shoving the point forward like a spear. The blade punctured the skin of the Troll in the middle of the right thigh, slicing deep into the muscle. The Troll shambled back, pulling itself off of the blade while it roared its pain and anger. Kurt drew the blade over his left shoulder and sliced across the opposite thigh of the monster while stepping forward, cutting through the large muscle and wounding the creature deeply. The monster lost control of the left leg and staggered to a kneeling position, putting a hand down to keep from falling over.
Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1 Page 29