"Sir, troopers coming in fast from the west. Three minutes."
"Hold fire people, keep it together," said the reassuring Sergeant Phillips.
"Sir, half-track in bound, eight troops." I recognised Green's shaky voice.
Then suddenly the thing died in my ear and I felt deaf for a moment. I heard someone shout behind me, something about the digi-com being blocked. All of a sudden it became very real, I'd been here many times, that dead space between readiness and conflict. I felt caught in a time warp, stuck waiting and waiting.
Until Hell shattered around me.
They came in fast, crossing the fields at a sprint. The shotgun bucked in my hands, spent casings flying past my ear as it fed another into the breach. I saw two red clad troopers fall down in spasms, others rushing across to fill the gap.
One on my left exploded in red mist as Wulfgar opened up with his heavy weapon. Three fell backwards in terror as it roared and tore up the ground with devastating effect. Another trooper's head exploded as Brand's rifle cracked over me.
"Tekoa, advance! Take out their tracks!" The digi-com returned in broken verse just as I ducked down to load a fresh magazine, rounds whizzing past over my head and slamming into the shabby wall behind. Then I rose again and scanned the carnage for targets.
One shell downed a trooper creeping along the sidewall, head down hoping to avoid the wrath of Wulfgar with a grenade in his hand. Another managed to throw one into the roof space where Brand was and I saw it thrown back, exploding in a shower of turf and bone.
Behind me there were screams and I turned in time to see one of Walker's unit impaled by a combat knife. Three enemy troopers had managed to get in through the back door of the kitchen and were laying down fire into the hallway. The shotgun replied and one died outright, his legs split into strips by the shot. Another fell wounded and got off a round that scarred my neck, only to be blasted by the last shell.
The lone trooper pulled a pin on a ball-bomb and dropped it into the room. It rolled towards me like a toy, stopping at the toe of my boot just as I swept it up into my hand and lobbed it out of the window into three troopers advancing across the kill-zone. Shots rang out behind me and the last intruder was cut down by sustained fire from the stairwell.
"Lieutenant!" Someone yelled just before the world collapsed around me in a super nova and threw me to the floor. For a moment I felt like I was underwater. My ears were numb and all the sounds were warbly and far away. Dust hung in a thick cloud, I was coughing and spluttering.
Then reality came rushing back in and I realised that a tank shell had demolished the whole south side of the building. All that was left was a gaping hole where the enemy poured in.
Up on my feet I blasted the first three; another two came from my left but tumbled down the rubble as rounds tore into them from behind. I crossed the broken doorway and found Burns being wrestled to the floor by a large trooper with a knife.
"Help me, John!" He begged. The shotgun cracked the trooper's skull on impact and he fell limp in a bloody heap on the floor. "Where's Phillips?" He yelled over the chaos.
"Outside, western wall," I shouted. "This way!"
Clambering over the bricks and dust, we ran out into the sunlight as the tank went up in flames, it's sides torn open like tin by Tekoa's rocket launcher. Flaming bodies came running out in anguish and each one was shot down.
Phillips was directing the defense to the half-track that had turned to hit the east wall, streaks of white gas chasing it as rockets launched to take it down. One blasted off a track; the other missed and went wide, detonating in the tree line. Three of Tekoa's mob swamped it, tore open the hatch and lobbed a grenade inside. Then they ran as the top blew apart sending shrapnel in all directions. Phillips was quick to seize the advantage and charged forward towards the last remaining enemy soldiers trying to storm the building, blasting from his pistol as he rallied the others behind him.
Then as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Smoke bellowed from the destroyed armour. Steam oozed from the bodies of the dead and dying.
"Consolidate," said Burns as he rounded up the dazed units. "We move now!".
*
In just under ten minutes the remains of the unit gathered outside, Bergen’s on our backs and fresh magazines loaded. Out of the original twenty-five only eighteen remained. Walker and me had gone round collecting the tags of the fallen, Wulfgar had taken as many of the weapons as he could; others took their personal belongings to send home to relatives.
"Troopers advance," Burns ordered and strode ahead into the tree line heading towards the city. Tekoa took point and jogged ahead. I was at the back of the group with Walker and Brand who looked worryingly unnerved by the situation.
"I don't like the idea of heading into the lion's den," said Brand nursing the long barreled sniper's rifle. She, like the weapon was a thing of beauty, but it was sad to think of their purpose in life. Her brunette hair was kept short and boyish but she had a strong womanly figure and war had taken none of her femininity away as it had done with so many others.
"I don't think we have much of a choice, do we sir?" replied Walker.
"I suppose not. Now that the Midian is out of range and the Avalon is committed elsewhere, we need to find another way off the planet," I said.
"I suppose you must be quite used to this, sir?" Asked Brand who took a step back and fell in line next to me.
"What makes you say that, Brand?”
“I heard a few things about you, sir. Things from some of the other troopers if you don't mind me saying so.”
“Go on.”
“Well, you were in the tri-colony wars on Mars.”
“That's correct.”
“You led the charge on New Bakersfield. Turned the war around for us. Sir.”
“Don't always listen to rumors, Brand. Any history is boring without a bit of embellishment, don't you think?” I laughed. "I was at the tri-colony wars on Mars and yes, I did lead the charge on New Bakersfield. But the hero there was a young private by the name of Alex Shadsworth of Manchester, England. He actually stood on the wall between us and the colonists and gave the war cry that rallied the handful of us who'd survived the artillery fire.”
“What did he say?” asked Walker rather amazed.
“I will always remember it. He jumped up on the rubble, lifted his rifle up and shouted 'let's go fuck them up lads – the pub opens at three'.”
“You're joking, sir.” said Brand looking slightly disappointed. “What happened to Shadsworth?”
“After his heart warming speech a sniper opened his head like a melon.” They laughed. “It was a shame really. After that the unit were so angry that I had to lead the charge or they would have left me behind. So no, it wasn't anything to be proud of. Shadsworth deserves the credit.”
“Did he get any?” asked Walker.
“Yes. I had to give a report after the war was over and you will find his name on a brass plaque on the war memorial outside New Bakersfield. Underneath it quotes the very speech he gave. Or at least the edited version.”
“Alex Shadsworth. I'll have to remember that name.” muttered Brand.
Looking into her eyes as we marched through the fields, you could see that life for Karen Brand was lived through the rifle scope and must have seemed pretty far away until she was forced to be a part of it. Behind the tough appearance was a soul at war with itself and I got the impression that the only way she could stay sane was to cut herself off from the horror, to get behind the rifle and pretend it wasn’t real. If only it was that simple.
There was a cry from the front and somebody went down, falling out of line in a crumpled heap. One of Wulfgar's flanks began firing and the rest us dove for the nearest piece of cover, Brand behind me, Walker shooting off to the left.
"Down!" I shouted to the six or so that had gathered near me. Bergen’s dropped to the floor and weapons opened up around my ears. Brand crouched on her knee, scope hunting for a target and delicate fi
ngers working the zoom control. On my left I saw Walker dash forward to the next tree waving on three others. Wulfgar was further along the line and charging forward, his huge frame hauling the great heavy machine gun that blazed flame and brass as he went, bathing the forest in awesome firepower. "Forward!" I yelled and ran ahead, rounds streaking past me until I reached the next tree. Brand held back, three others came up behind me but one fell face down as a salvo blasted him apart. Muzzle flashes lit up in front of me, I aimed and fired at what I thought was the nearest. Brand's distinctive report sounded behind me, then I felt her reach my side.
"Go!" She yelled and I made for the next line. Wulfgar was urging others to follow his lead, Walker was pinned down by bursts of sustained fire that were tearing chunks out of the trunk of the huge tree and another of his men went down, pitched off his feet by a head shot.
"Smoke!" Green was running down the line hurling tubular bombs over the tops of the trees doing an incredible job of avoiding fire from both sides. Flash blinded us as they detonated, then great plumes of white smoke engulfed the forward line and those able to got up and began running towards the north where Burns and Phillips waved them ahead.
"Let's boogey, Lieutenant," said Brand and I began to fall back. The enemy was still firing, but without targets they were firing blind and white-hot slugs tore through the protective cloud in all directions. Together we ran, heads down and fell in behind the others, Green bringing up the rear and still hurling bombs from a satchel. Others were stabbing incendiaries into the ground, most likely on twenty second timers.
"Shit, that's the Bergen’s gone," Brand said as she slung her rifle and took up her pistol. In the dense woodland the high precision tool was useless on the run.
"How many went down?" Asked somebody in front of us in a panic stricken voice.
"Forget it, we'll lick wounds later," I shouted hoping the firm voice might inspire him to press on. "Keep your heads down."
A few seconds later and explosions could be heard behind us as the timers went off. I looked back just as a tide of super heated flame exploded around our previous position, most likely destroying both the Bergen’s and the bodies of the dead and dying. I had no idea how many we'd lost, but that wasn't the priority now. We were running blind and it wouldn't be long before they closed in on us. My hopes of finding David, of even surviving the next night were fading fast.
"We aren't going to make it," Someone in front said.
"They're going to slaughter us!" Another cried.
"Shut it you girls! I'll have you dead myself before I let them kill you. Nobody's taking my two bitches from me, you faggot slags!" It was the Sarge coming back down the line shouting his head off to the unit. He caught me at the back and started dividing up those around him. "On me, east on the double or I’ll personally burn your asses back to the stone age!"
We divided up and headed east, away from Burns' squad to try and confuse the enemy. Phillips was checking the map when Brand and me jogged up to the front.
"Sir, what's the plan?" I asked.
"The Lieutenant has broken away to draw fire to this point here." He indicated a narrow valley deeper inside the forest - a good tactical position that offered an ambush option. "We're to continue round in an arc, coming back round to hit them at the rear. Then we'll rendezvous at this outpost."
"Then what?" Phillips gave me a look that said it all. The last stand. "Do you know how many went down?"
"Out of the eighteen we had this morning, there's only thirteen now."
"Jesus," Brand muttered. Five of us here, eight there.
By the time we'd come back round as Phillips had planned, we'd left our pursuers behind. That only meant they'd concentrated on Burns' unit. As we began to crest a rise in the terrain, evening was setting in and it wouldn't be long before we lost the light. Already the canopy was blocking most of it out, leaving Brand to take point with the thermal imaging scope as our eyes. I walked with Phillips as the other two troopers brought up the rear.
"We're here."
CHAPTER 6
The valley was a wash with gold and red and orange, cordite choked the air as it rose up to meet us and the brutal sound of war assaulted our ears. We were on the east side looking down and we could see the eight comrades holding back a tide of ARC troopers who were dug in at the mouth of the valley. Brand was on her belly and crawling into the bushes, edging up towards the lip with her rifle in front. Phillips waved the other two troopers either side, me further down towards the ARC side.
"Any grenades left?" He asked. I checked my belt and shook my head. "Only one." He passed the white ball to me and I tore away the pin, hurling it down towards the rear of the group. Then I threw myself down and readied the shotgun.
The grenade detonated flinging an ARC trooper up into the air. Brand's rifle cracked like lightning taking off the head of the foremost soldier. My weapon jolted and writhed under me as I emptied the stock, stopping only to reload. Several of the enemy collapsed, limbs tearing apart by the downpour of fresh fire. They were stunned, unable to see where the renewed fire was coming from and began to break ranks, turning and running back down the valley. Brand chose her targets well, picking off anyone who didn't run in bursts of vapourised blood and flesh. Phillips emptied his pistol, loaded a fresh magazine and grabbed my shoulder.
"Let's give 'em the shit!" He cried and the two of us charged down, firing from the hip. Slugs flew past us, but the enemy was in retreat and firing blindly. I felt a surge of adrenaline as we fell in amongst them, swinging our weapons like clubs. Phillips had his knife out and was slashing into anyone strong enough to hold his ground, most had already run. I slung the shotgun across my shoulders and launched my fist into the face of the first target delivering a crushing blow to a pale-faced soldier who'd managed to fit a bayonet to his rifle. He stumbled back as I drew my combat knife and lunged forwards and down. He saw the glistening blade and side stepped out of my strike, grabbing the knife hand and wheeling me round. Ready for the move I slammed my knee into his chest rig and he lost balance giving me time to find my footing just as he went down over a corpse behind him. I followed with my full weight behind the blade and it passed straight through into his upper torso with a jet of blood spraying across my face.
As I rose up once more a passing Red raised his rifle too close and I swung out my leg which crashed into his knee cap. He went down hard but the bayonet fixed to the end of his weapon sliced into my thigh and I screamed. Rolling away from him I was able to draw my pistol and put two slugs into his skull.
Pistols cracked in the darkness, firing at incredibly close range; blades catching the muzzle flash making them glitter in the night. Bodies swarmed around me and I realised that it was Burns' unit coming in to finish the job.
"Come on Shap, finish the job!" He yelled, but my mind was mush. Warm fluid was trickling down my leg and the whole scene just looked hellish. I was so dazed that I hadn't noticed an ARC trooper rising with a blade creeping across the dead towards me until his head burst open, splattering my face with brain tissue. I turned and saw Brand still looking through the scope.
"Gather weapons, ammunition, whatever you can find and make for the rendezvous point," cried Burns who was walking between the troops, urging them to dig deep and get as much as they could carry.
"Thanks," I said as Brand came up beside me. "I lost it there for a sec."
I slung the shotgun in favour of one of the ARC automatic rifles simply because there were no shells to be found and I was down to my last seven. I was able to grab four sickle shaped magazines and two smoke grenades plus a number of 8.45mm rounds for Brand's rifle.
"The irony, using their own munitions against them," she said, pocketing the heavy shells.
Then we were on the move again, now down to ten men. Three had fallen in the vicious hand-to-hand battle and Burns was counting the remainder. Sergeant Phillips stood beside him, Wulfgar, Green, Walker, Brand, Tekoa and myself gathered round. Two troopers, Misch and Thomp
son were still picking at the bodies of the fallen.
"Right, we move now. Pair up and spread out. It won't be long before reinforcements arrive," Burns said as he took point himself. The night was in now and provided us with cover at least. The forest became a disorientating mess of black pillars and noise, animals chirping away and birds fluttering amongst the leaves. It was enough of a trial to hold back from firing at everything that moved.
"At least we'll have taken a lot of them with us by the end." I'd paired up with Green, Brand moving to the front to make full use of the thermal scope.
"You seem confident that we're going to die here?" I replied. He laughed and so did Tekoa and Walker behind us.
"Why? Do you think a miracle is going to happen between here and that tomb of a last stand the lieutenant wants us to take?"
"We've made it this far."
"Fifteen of us didn't." Tekoa said.
"I'm not going to surrender to death. I'm going to make him work for every minute he takes from me. I'm going to fight to the end, knowing that it's in our hands whether we get off this rock or not. Yes the odds are against us, but how you die is up to you." The team went silent as we plodded on in darkness, the shadows closing in around us.
*
The outpost loomed up on us shortly after leaving the forest. It was a clear night and both moons shone like bulled buckles on parade and the temperature had dropped considerably. The building itself looked like a concrete box sticking awkwardly out of the top of a short rise, a radio antenna on the top waving in a gentle breeze.
"Phillips says it's the farmers only means of communication to the city," Tekoa said, giving us the tourist’s guide.
"How far is the city?" Asked Brand.
"Over twenty seven miles now that we've detoured to here." I could see Burns and Phillips approach the entrance, spreading the remaining troops out to cover them. Burns took the door in with a swift kick and jumped out of the way letting the Sergeant move inside, M4B raised and ready. After a few silent moments he came back out.
Soul at War Page 5