Europe Has Fallen

by Gouriet, Andrew

  Alex smiled and reached forward to shake his hand.

  “It’s been a long journey and I have a lot to tell you.”

  The captain stopped the doctor dressing his wounds. “It was you, wasn’t it? You have a fantastic shot on you, Private.”

  Private Chamberlin smiled.

  “I had to gauge the wind first as I didn’t want to hit you, sir.”

  He went on to explain about his escape from the dead forest and the story of the three long-limbs was breathtaking. His horse had been the difference between life and death and the ability to leave an area at speed was paramount. Alex told them of his observations and the fact he had seen civilians being marched towards Austria, possibly Russia. He spoke for around ten minutes on everything he had seen and the perilous nights and lack of sleep. “I haven’t seen the enemy for a while apart from this attack today.” He was confident they had some time before the priests arrived with larger reinforcements.

  Fresh orders were given to secure the outer walls and dispose of the dead and flesh-eaters’ bodies. They had a dilemma with the noise this battle had generated.

  Would it bring in more enemy forces was the common thought, even if Private Chamberlin thought otherwise. The other dilemma was the fever – half the soldiers were now complaining of having it. They needed to rest and see this out. The journey ahead was a long one.

  The major offered to stay with a small group of soldiers and the sick whilst Captain Hayward would push on with the nurses and the rest of the group. This thought process was stopped in its tracks. “I’m sick, Harry.”

  “Dear friend, not a bite.”

  He had sheer panic in his eyes.

  “No, it’s the fever. I’ve felt it from this morning. I can stay and you go, Harry.”

  “I can’t leave you all now!”

  The major gave the order that they would stay as long as they could. Spotters were posted on the roof and the men left to join the others in the courtyard. The officers and men greeted Private Chamberlin and were overjoyed to find out he had survived. It was a good morale-boosting moment and the officers knew it. There had been little to cheer about, but seeing a man come back from the dead was a sign of hope.

  The men who had been bitten were taken to a servant’s quarters. They knew what this meant and it was now only a matter of time. This was taking its toll on the captain and the major. They did not want to execute their own men, even though they knew they would change at some point. The decision instead was to offer them the choice: they could end it themselves or be cared for until the sickness killed them. Then they would be humanely dealt with.

  The officers could think of no other way. It was not an easy process, as it could be any one of them in the near future.

  “Damn this war and these wretched creatures. They poison our men and even a hollow victory like today pales into insignificance when it keeps taking more.”

  The major hung his head and excused himself to go and talk to the wounded. The operation around the manor house was in full swing. The nurses were having to help out due to the number of soldiers now falling ill. Sandbags were being filled to help plug the gaps and the cellar was searched extensively for any remaining flesh-eaters. Several were found and dealt with swiftly. They also found three more entrances, which were sealed.

  The dead allied soldiers were buried outside the manor grounds. It was a hard slog for the remaining soldiers as not enough hands were available to dig or move the bodies. The flesh-eaters were being burnt with their leader. The drone soldiers were shot twice, to make sure they would not be coming back.

  The major visited the men who had been bitten. They were in good spirits despite the death sentence that had been handed down to them. He was moved deeply by the notes and messages handed to him to pass on to their families. He could not bring himself to offer them the option of taking their own lives but this actually became their own request.

  The virus was spreading rapidly. It seemed to affect different people at different speeds. The men all felt woozy and light headed. The bite wounds became infected even if they had been cleaned. The change in skin colour around the wound was disconcerting for each victim and helped pass the final judgement on what they should all do.

  Each man had a drink of whisky from the manor house. A good year was found and the bottle passed around. Then five revolvers were brought into the room they were in.

  The men decided to take their own lives in that room. They had many visitors to wish them farewell before they did so. Their fellow soldiers were distraught it had come to this and begged the doctors to find a cure or cut out the infection. Sadly there was no cure and it was an infection that had already taken over the body. The Austrians and Prussians came in and paid their respects. The mood was sombre around the camp.

  The gunshots sent shivers down everyone’s spines and the realisation hit them of how life and death were in the balance every day.

  The rest of the day was spent clearing the battle debris and preparing for the night and what it might bring.

  That evening passed well and so did the next. In fact, a week quickly shot by before a scout came back with news of a dust cloud across the valley that went on forever. It was now time to move.

  They had prepared, so there was no major panic. The fever had swept through the group and passed without taking anyone. The odd Prussian soldier had passed the manor house in search of food and shelter. They gratefully joined the group and bolstered the numbers, slightly depleted since the attack.

  An hour later, they were on the road leading away from the house. It was a place that would hold mixed emotions. It had helped them survive the fever, but the attack had claim many lives. The question over Benedict remained. Rumours were circling around the group that he might be working for the enemy, but these were quickly dismissed by the Austrians. They said his father had been killed by the priests and he was taken in by the monks for a reason.

  Benedict held his head in his hands and started to cry. He did not really understand why they would come after him. The major and the captain tried to reassure him.

  His eyes then lit up.

  “I’m sure my father went to Russia on a business trip many years ago and came back with a small chest. I asked him what was in it and he said an old map of a castle in Siberia and things.”

  “Well done, Benedict.” Captain Hayward patted him on the back.

  “Do you know where that chest is now?”

  Benedict looked uncertain. “I think my father hid it in the cellar of our house.”

  The major and the captain told him that was a good start and he should tell them if he could remember more.

  Both officers then left him to get some rest.

  “We have to find out more about why they want him, Charles.”

  “Maybe the castle in Siberia is where these priests originate from. There has to be a link,” suggested Charles.

  Harry nodded his head in agreement and recommended they should investigate this further.

  The major was riding upfront with the captain. The wagons were in tight columns and the last wagon had the mounted machine gun. They had scouts flanking them on either side.

  Captain Hayward looked concerned. “Do you think the priests have infiltrated across Europe?”

  “We have no idea how far they have spread and what their objectives are. Major cities have been falling and their armies are being swept aside with ease. They have the numbers, Harry, and creatures like none we ever seen before.”

  The men discussed the wide implications on where this whole thing could be going and the role the British Empire must play in stopping it. When it first started, they thought it was a case of Russia trying to flex its muscles, but now it turned out that Russia had capitulated months ago and was overrun with this new force.

  They rode all through the day and stopped for a short rest before it got dark. There had been no sign of the enemy, but that meant nothing now. They did not trust their vision any more
; the enemy could already be in front of them.

  A small wooded area was found for the camp that night. They were only a few miles from Strasbourg. It was meant to be a joyous occasion but was dampened by the realisation that the huge dust cloud was sweeping through Europe. The question on everyone’s minds was: Would it stop in Prussia?

  There was talk that the dust cloud could be the refugees fleeing Munich. This was not allowed to sink in, as the idea was to keep moving. They did not enter Strasbourg. The cannon fire put an end to that.

  The major thought about the week they had spent in the manor house and how much time they had lost, but for now they had not seen much movement, enemy or allied. The Prussians were a little reluctant to leave their own soil. The recent Franco–Prussian war would not be forgotten so easily in France.

  The days passed as they moved down through hills and mountains. Food and water were being kept under close control. The wounded men were starting to show good signs of recovery.

  Colonel Kiesl and Captain Müller discussed Haut-Koenigsbourg castle. They thought it would be a good place to go and decided to speak to the major about it. He was a little reluctant to go off course, but was aware they needed to restock and rest a night in secure premises. There was always the worry that if this area was already taken then they would be in serious trouble, but that was the risk they were going to have to take.

  Heidi was walking along with Private Brown. They were at the back of the convoy. It was a moment they both cherished.

  “I don’t know how much more of this I can take, John.”

  John squeezed her hand tight.

  “We’ll make it. We must believe that!”

  Her face lit up a little.

  “Make it where, John? Europe is falling. The generals might talk about how they can stop this enemy, but we’ve seen what things they can do. I am only a nurse but these things are demons. I—”

  She began to cry. John stopped them walking and stood there holding her in his arms. “We must believe. I know you’re concerned for your family and your country, but we must believe.”

  She kissed him and he wiped away her tears. They continued to walk and hold each other. The weather had improved over the past week and when the sun broke through the clouds the warm rays lifted everyone’s sprits.

  It was a hard slog up and down tracks and roads, but the castle was in sight. The scouts checked the area and reported empty farms and villages, which now sadly had become the norm.

  The usual tactics were applied to send a small detachment of British soldiers and Prussians ahead, accompanied by Captain Hayward and Captain Müller.

  Haut-Koenigsbourg castle was an overpowering fortification. It sat high on a mountain top overlooking the valley with imperious qualities. Caution was always taken now with any fort, town or village.

  The soldiers were greeted this time with a weary looking Prussian division. They were happy to see so many soldiers, but the look on their faces was one of despair. Many were exhausted and worn out; some were carrying injuries and some looked sick. These people caught the eye of the captain. The notion that they been bitten was now playing on his mind.

  Captain Müller spoke German to the guards that greeted them. They were an Alpine Jaeger corps division retreating from Munich. They had several generals camped in the castle and General Schmitt was the one to greet them. He was a middle-aged man of stocky build with a hard-looking face.

  He first greeted them in German and then welcomed the British officer. “We do not often have the pleasure of having members of the Empire in our country. I hope you are not behind this invasion?” He said this with a half-smile. He was not sure who to trust and that was obvious.

  “We number nearly one thousand men in this castle. We’re preparing a counter-strike against the enemy.” General Schmitt said confidently.

  He led the men to their command headquarters. A roaring fire had raised the temperature in the room. Strong words were being exchanged between the different officers there. Captain Hayward looked at the men and a large model map of Prussia, they were using small model soldiers to mark out the Prussian armies and the enemy forces. The Prussian men were blue and the enemy were black. What interested the captain was the number of enemy soldiers believed to be in Prussia. It covered the map from nearly top to bottom.

  The visiting officers were brought water and fresh bread. General Schmitt decided to speak to Captain Müller and began questioning him for any information he may have. Hayward could not keep up with all the German that was being spoken. It was forceful and almost inquisitive about why Müller was with the British and not fighting the war with his fellow countrymen.

  They all waited with bated breath for his answer. Captain Müller knew he had to be courteous in the presence of generals. He explained that he was ordered to accompany the British and Austrian soldiers to France. This had been passed down by Brigadier Von Schwen. The moment he mentioned Austrians the mood turned darker. They started shouting at the Prussian captain and wanted to know what the Austrians were doing in their country and under the assistance of Prussian soldiers.

  Captain Müller soaked it all up.

  “If I may be so bold, I was given orders and I have been following them out.”

  The snigger that followed around the room was enough to put Captain Hayward’s back up. He could grasp what they were getting at and it all seemed a little out of order.

  “Gentlemen. I have travelled from the Carpathian Mountains through Austria and most of Prussia. The whole of Europe is under threat from this army. We must work together. I have so much respect for your captain here—”

  He was stopped half way through his sentence by General Schmitt, who took control.

  “How many are you?”

  “We’re nearly two hundred, General. This includes some army medical staff and nurses.”

  The room went silent.

  “Nurses, you say? We could do with some support for our sick men.”

  The captain looked at the general.

  “Have you come across the flesh-eaters?

  The general looked at him with steely eyes. “The demons who are already dead?”

  “Yes they’re the ones. They’re everywhere, we think…”

  Again the captain was stopped in his tracks. This time the general raised his hand with palm and fingers open in a halting motion.

  “We know about the creatures, the ones with the long limbs, and the giant riders. Let me get to the point. They are camped not too far away from this castle and we intend to hit them in the night. Having an extra hundred men or more makes this more viable. Hell, we can have the nurses take care of the wounded and mount a defence from here.”

  Captain Hayward wanted to be strategic. This was not the time or place to disagree.

  He had not had a chance to tell them about the side effect of being bitten and what happens to the victim. The tension in the room was at fever pitch. Sweat was dripping from their foreheads as the fire crackled away. General Schmitt walked over to the window ledge and glared out of it.

  “Captain Müller will go back and fetch the others. You can wait with us.”

  He did not trust the British captain to return and now they were trapped in his web.

  Captain Müller looked on anxiously as he left the room. Charles hoped he would tell the others to leave and not return for him. This idea was quickly quashed as the general ordered a small detachment to return with him.

  Captain Hayward turned and looked around the room. He then went and sat in an empty chair. The other officers and generals began talking again amongst themselves. The room was too hot and needed a window opened to allow some fresh air in. The captain, in his best German, suggested this and got a young officer to open the window. The cool breeze wafted into the room, easing the intense heat.

  The captain let his mind wander as the background noise became almost a humming sound. This half-sleep was broken by shouting and then gunfire. A corporal came in looking d
istressed. General Schmitt came over to the captain and explained that some of the men who had been bitten had changed.

  Suddenly the call to arms bugle sounded. Apparently long-limbs had been spotted in droves coming up the west bank of the castle, followed by riders from the north.

  Charles felt that this was the time to speak.

  “I must return to my men. They’re in danger out there.”

  General Schmitt looked at him long and hard.

  “The armies of Europe are meeting at Reims in France. Go with God’s speed and tell them as much as you know.”

  The sudden attack had changed the atmosphere and the hard stance towards the captain leaving had evaporated.

  “I’m sorry for the previous demands. We’re under a lot of stress and numbers really matter in this war with the Devil,” said General Schmitt apologetically.

  He extended his hand. This time it was to shake the captain’s, not stop him.

  “I understand, General. It is about us all fighting together now. They have one goal and that’s becoming obvious.”

  With this said, he left the room. He was led by a young officer to the courtyard. His horse was being held, but was getting a little jumpy as flesh-eaters emerged from the barracks. The Prussian soldiers were dealing with them as there were not as many as in the manor house attack.

  Charles took to his saddle, looked around the castle and left as the gates were being pulled closed. He rode fast as he heard barks and growls, something he had now become familiar with. The long-limbs had reached the gates.

  Captain Hayward was glad to see some British soldiers on lookout. They smiled and welcomed him back. The makeshift camp was being hurriedly packed up as news broke of the invading party.

  The detachment from the castle was offered the chance to return but warned by the captain that the gates were now shut and that the long-limbs and Northern riders had arrived. This left the twenty men with one real choice: to join the new group and move into France.

  Captain Müller was on hand to ease them into this multinational force.

  The convoy set off at speed. The scouts came back with reports of long-limbs coming through the woods in large packs. A small road took them away from the castle and out of the forest. The last wagon had the Gatling gun mounted on it and her crew kept a keen eye out for movement.