Europe Has Fallen

by Gouriet, Andrew

  The scenes that greeted them were ones of chaos, as the whole place was fighting a battle for survival.

  In the cellars the fighting was intense. The lanterns were being knocked over and the lack of light meant fighting in the dark was nearly impossible.

  The veteran still had three soldiers with him. His sheer size and strength was keeping them alive. They had made their way to a staircase leading to the hallway. Gunshots could still be heard in the chambers below, and they tried in vain to call out to the missing men.

  A voice came out of the darkness. It carried the same rasp in its tone and an air of menace.

  “Where’s the boy?”

  Moving past a lantern was the priest. He was on all fours and moving more like an animal than a human.

  One soldier charged the priest with his rifle and bayonet attached. The bayonet went into the priest’s body. His eyes changed colour just before it bit into its victim. His body then began to shake violently, almost as if he were having a fit. The soldier stood back in astonishment and wondered what was happening.

  The priest then stopped moving. “Is it dead?” came a call from behind him.

  “I think so,” said a private who was nearest to the body.

  Then it started to move again. The flesh around the stomach and chest started to bubble. An extra piece of flesh started to rise from the bubbling skin. This flesh then changed shape to form two arms. They were longer and thinner than the priest’s other two, but the claws on the hands were just as sharp.

  “Kill it!”

  The young soldier stabbed at the developing limbs and tried to make an impact on the whole body.

  As he jabbed and worked the bayonet, a flesh-eater emerged from the darkness and sank his teeth into the soldier’s shoulder. He yelped in pain and fell back. The priest had now got to his feet, mouth open and teeth on full show.

  This thing let out a snarl and attacked the injured soldier on the floor, knocking the flesh-eater to the side. It was like a ferocious lion, biting and tearing with consummate ease. The poor soldier did not stand a chance as he tried in vain to fight off his attacker.

  His fellow comrades began shooting the creatures back, but to little effect. The darkness was proving hard to make a decent shot. The flesh-eaters were also pushing them further and further away. They had to retreat up the staircase.

  Outside in the bright sunlight the fight was in full swing. Thatcher and Arthur were shooting and reloading as they moved. They were taken aback by the sheer number of flesh-eaters and the fact they had arrived from nowhere so quickly.

  “We must find the major or Captain Hayward,” Arthur shouted.

  Thatcher nodded and slammed another bullet in the breech, pulling the lever to cock the rifle, then pushing it back and taking aim. Boom! A flesh-eater fell to the ground. It was a clean headshot. The British Engineers would not go down without a fight.

  Both soldiers fought their way through the courtyard helping other soldiers as they went. Some men had formed small lines and were laying down volley fire to increase firepower by sheer numbers.

  The Gatling gun crew had been pushed back and this meant the heavy weapon was out of use. Thatcher looked over in its direction.

  “We can do it.”

  “No, we have to relay the message first.”

  Both men stood still for a moment. The fighting was happening all around them. Even though they had seen many flesh-eaters before, the shock always crept in. Some looked like recent victims; others were more decayed. They all shared one common goal: living flesh. They hungered for it, and it was what drove them to wander the land in search of it.

  “It’s too risky. If we fail to relay this message and die, it could have massive consequences on the war.”

  Thatcher nodded. He realised they had to find the major or captain and pass on the information. With that they started to fight their way through the sprawling mass of bodies, using their bayonets and rifle butts to clear a path to the house. As they moved along, several soldiers joined them to swell their numbers. The shouts and cries of Prussians and Austrians could be heard around the manor house. The British were spread out, “Doing the Empire proud,” as Sergeant Butcher declared.

  The two men made it inside the house with some help from the other soldiers. Major Richmond was located via a corporal who directed the privates up the stairs. The gunfire was sporadic and ammunition was being distributed accordingly.

  They both went up the stairs to find the major, but he had moved and the soldiers shooting out of the window did not know where he had gone.

  Captain Hayward was fighting alongside several soldiers and nurses at the rear of the house. The ammunition was not close to hand so it had developed into hand-to-hand combat. The flesh-eaters were more dangerous as a group so to find yourself surrounded by them decreased your chances dramatically.

  The men had discussed this scenario many times during their long arduous march to safety and it was a case of “if the worst happened,” use your last bit of energy to break through the ranks and get your back to a fixed object. This of course was not always possible.

  “We need to get more bullets,” Captain Hayward cried out.

  The captain was covered in sweat and blood. The carnage was everywhere and at that moment in time they were not able to stem the flow of flesh-eaters. The sudden surprise attack had raised questions and the volume of enemy this far down was considerably worrying.

  Major Richmond was in the house, but he was now on the lower floor. He had secured the building the best he could, but there was also the small matter of the cellar. Drone soldiers had been spotted around the building and in the cellar. They were assisting in the attack by getting doors, gates and anything the flesh-eaters could not negotiate open. They had not engaged directly in combat, which the officers believed indicated there were not many of them. The main body of attack was from the flesh-eaters.

  The major had managed to get some sharp shooters on top of the manor house. They were having a devastating effect on the oncoming enemy. The allied casualties had been kept to a minimum by close ranks and covering each other’s backs.

  The Prussians were doing a sterling job at guarding the barns. They had carried several cases of ammunition and were laying down heavy fire. They were the first to see light at the end of the tunnel. The shuffling army was starting to lose numbers. This sudden mass attack did not have reinforcements and this offered a chance for them to gain the upper hand.

  A Prussian soldier was sent to climb the outer manor wall and get word that the remaining flesh-eaters were the last on the horizon.

  This soldier was nimble as he pushed and barged his way through the beasts to the wall. His fellow soldiers helped pick off some of the creatures that started to track him. Once on the wall he made his way to the courtyard. He could see the fighting was still intense and that the lack of ammunition was making it more difficult.

  He shouted in German about the enemy’s numbers starting to wane. This was not picked up at first. Then an Austrian acknowledged the information and helped spread the news. This was translated for the British soldiers who had formed a line and were advancing forward, bayoneting everything they could. It was a formidable line and was being led by Captain Hayward. He was taking full control and this war was now bringing the soldier out in him.

  “You’ve heard the news, men. Keep driving forward. We can win this battle,” was the Captains battle cry.

  The men rallied around his orders with rifle and bayonet becoming a devastating weapon. Major Richmond was now in full control in the house and was sending more men into the cellar. The priest had come out into the courtyard and had grown in height and mass. He was snarling and spitting. His extra arms made him look more threatening and his movement was erratic. The soldiers tried to get a clean shot on his head, but he darted from one side to the other. Coming out of the cellar with him were six drone soldiers carrying grenades and rifles.

  They threw the grenades at any gr
oups of European soldiers grouped together. As the men took cover they then began opening fire. The initial explosions killed four men and injured three more.

  Ammunition was brought forward to the Gatling gun. This was then loaded by the returning crew and swung into action. The deadly force of the weapon was instant, cutting through the walking flesh-eaters trying to come into the courtyard.

  The Gatling gun cut them to pieces, ripping through bodies with ease. They then spun it around to face inside the courtyard, but the mixture of British soldiers and flesh-eaters meant that the risk of using it was too high.

  Arthur and Thatcher reached Major Richmond just as a call went out from the courtyard that the priest was heading to the house.

  “Sir, they’re after Benedict.”

  Major Richmond looked puzzled.

  “The boy from the abbey?”

  Thatcher came further forward.

  “We don’t know why, but the priest is coming and they want him.”

  They did not waste any more time; the major led the men to Benedict. He was apparently loading rifles for the soldiers on the roof.

  The Austrian sharp shooters had moved on to the barns and were now finishing off the remaining flesh-eaters in the surrounding area. The priest lashed out at Captain Hayward as he moved towards the house. The drone soldiers fired at the British as they moved along with their master.

  The sharp shooters on the roof trained their fire on them. One drone solider got it in the shoulder and went down instantly. Two were killed with clean shots to the head, showering shreds of hair and skull onto the muddy courtyard.

  The volley fire now raining down on the drone soldiers was having a subduing effect on their morale. The priest snarled at the stragglers as he made his way to the building.

  The remaining three drone soldiers tried to rush the door, but were also cut down. The priest was being hit by a barrage of bullets, but they were having little impact. Even head shots were not enough to kill this beast.

  Instead of trying to get into the house, the priest changed tactics and began to climb. Its extra arms and claws gave it more agility. The soldiers watched in shock as it scaled the building. Captain Hayward did not waste time. He sent soldiers to collect more ammunition and those who had some rounds left followed him into the house. The major grabbed Benedict and asked him what he knew about these invaders, but the lad just shrugged his shoulders. The major pondered this. Maybe they had got it wrong and he knew nothing. Still, the creature was climbing the house, and it would be upon them.

  The priest did not climb all the way up. It swung its body through a large window, smashing the glass and the wooden frame around it. The order was given to kill it at all costs, but the knowledge of how to do so was still not known.

  The house was a good size and it took nearly a minute for them to arrive at the right room. A suitable number of guards were left with Benedict and the rest followed the major. Coming up the stairs was the captain. They stood outside the room which they thought was holding the priest. There was a silent lull, followed by a ripping, banging noise.

  No one could quite work out what was happening, but it sounded like a builder’s workshop. The men were ordered to be prepared to burst in. Soldiers gathered either side of the door and waited for the order.

  “Keep your wits about you, men. This one’s different,” said Captain Hayward.

  They went on the count of three. The door flung open to reveal a hole in the ceiling with a leg disappearing through it in the darkness.

  “It’s going to the roof. We must get up there.”

  Captain Hayward led the way. He withdrew his revolver and pressed on up the stairs with a detachment of men behind him. The fighting around the house had now stopped and the area was slowly being secured. This only left the priest.

  Thatcher and Arthur stood by Benedict with bayonets raised. Austrians flanked them on either side.

  The priest burst through the ceiling, teeth snapping and deep growls coming from within. Its legs and body had become longer, not in the same way as the long-limbs, but it was still an awkward sight. Once out of the gap it came, under heavy fire from the sharp shooters on the roof. The fear in their eyes was evident as the bullets were swallowed into its body. Blood gushed out, but there was no stopping its advance. Its eyes were transfixed on Benedict and that’s what drove it on.

  The captain took out his sword and charged the beast. His men followed as the priest rose up onto his hind legs and, standing at least ten foot tall, he let out a deep belly roar. His tongue licked out of his mouth like a lizard’s. The men flung themselves into his legs and as they did so, two of them were brushed aside by the power of his arms. The claws cut through their tunics and straps with ease. Captain Hayward managed to get close to the creature’s chest.

  He slammed the sword down into the ribcage. This opened up a deep cut. The eyes of the beast turned on the captain and within a quick flash he was picked up and hurled to a corner of the ceiling. The impact was bone-crunching.

  As it moved closer to Benedict, two Austrians soldiers jabbed at the priest to try and keep it back but again, in a quick lunge, the beast bit one soldier’s head clean off and put his arm through the other man.

  It now focused on Benedict.

  Thatcher and Arthur fumbled to insert bullets into their rifle breeches. The sheer size of the creature and the lack of obvious ways to kill it troubled them.

  They looked at each other as if to accept their fate. Neither man would run. They would stand their ground.

  He went onto all fours and dealt with the other soldiers trying to hold him back – lashing out, sending them flying and wounding indiscriminately. Major Richmond arrived with three grenades.

  “Back it to the edge and I’ll go over with it,” the major called out.

  He kept the grenades out of sight and lit the fuses on them. The priest turned and half smiled. He had lost most of his human features and his robes were torn and ripped from his expanding size, but you could still work out the grimaced smile. Captain Hayward took his chance and charged the beast once more and attempted to push it to the edge. His body hurt from being thrown violently before, but he pressed on. His shoulder hit the priest hard and he jabbed the bayonet into its side. The priest grabbed Captain Hayward and stood back on his hind legs. It pushed him to the corner of the house. The priest opened its ever-expanding mouth, exposing colossal teeth.

  The captain thought of his wife and children and closed his eyes. The priest’s breath swept across the captain’s face and he prayed for a quick death. The wound on the priest’s chest had not fully closed as the others had done. Then a whoosh of air passed the captain and a slight thud followed. He slowly opened his eyes. The priest’s grip had lessened and its legs started to collapse. Both of them fell hard to the floor. The beast’s tongue rolled out of its mouth, it sighed once and then lay motionless.

  The shot had come from a fair distance away and not from the top of the roof. The captain was grateful, but had to watch in hope as the major threw the grenades off the back of the manor house. He tried to get them away from soldiers that were down there. The thunderous noise that followed shook the building, but fortune shone on them and it claimed no allied victims.

  Soon the army medics and nurses were on the scene helping out where they could. The major turned to the captain and gave him a grateful look. The body of the priest lay there. The remaining soldiers picked themselves up and prodded it with their bayonets. The order was given to take it down to the courtyard and burn it.

  “Charles, old boy, that was a bloody close thing.”

  The major said this with a huge grin on his face. He was slightly trembling from having three live grenades in his hands moments earlier. Captain Hayward got up onto a brick chimney stack. It had a small edge, which he lent against.

  “I do believe that shot saved my life.”

  Major Richmond had a wry smile.

  “You’ll have to buy a bottle of champagne f
or that sniper, unless the bullet was for you?”

  The major helped Captain Hayward to his feet. The captain grimaced as he stood up.

  “Get Doc Brown to check you over.”

  The captain nodded.

  “Why was that priest after Benedict? This was a calculated attack. They must have had men down here before we arrived. How could they get so many flesh-eaters here?” stated the captain.

  The major sat next to the captain.

  “You’re right, Charles. Maybe, just maybe, they have already sent this plague into Europe. We’ve been in the mountains for a whole winter. We never heard back from the garrison. They could have been planning this for years.”

  Both men sighed and put their hands over their faces. Corporal Heinz arrived on the roof. “Gentlemen, the area is secure!” He was pleased to announce this and gave them a brief update on the wounded and dead. The corporal lowered his head and announced five men had been bitten. This now left them feeling empty. Decisions would have to be made on the men’s welfare.

  “Dear lord, this is getting worse by the minute,” said Major Richmond.

  The major was downcast on this latest news. The corporal continued to debrief the captain on the situation. Army doctor Brown arrived at the top of the building. He was a little out of breath, but happy to see the men alive. The corporal left the doctor to it and went to check on the Austrian numbers.

  Colonel Kiesl arrived next with news that a British Engineer had come out of nowhere and claimed to be from their regiment. “We nearly shot him. Fortunately one of your men recognised him,” After that brief update, a soldier emerged from the door leading onto the roof. It was Private Alex Chamberlin.

  Captain Hayward wanted to get up, but the doctor stopped him. The major needed this small boost of hope and leapt up to shake Chamberlin’s hand.

  “My God man, how? Just how?”

  The major was smiling when he said this. He had kept his emotions in place as the officer in charge, but he couldn’t help letting go a little, with a man he thought had left his stewardship now returning.