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Soul at War

Page 6

by Martyn J. Pass


  "Clear. Everybody in, Tekoa, Green and Brand on the west wall, Shap, Wulfgar and Misch on the east. Spread out and take three hours a piece."

  “Great, another building ARC will be expecting us to stop in. Might as well have vid linked our position to them.” muttered Brand as she took her post. Sadly, she was right. I wasn't sure what Dan was thinking at this point and my earlier questioning of his decision had met with a chilled response. It wasn't like him and I suspected with so many of his men dead he was feeling the weight of that responsibility now. There was no need to, it hadn't been his fault where we'd been dropped. Still I knew the feeling all too well.

  The building was a single room with only a small toilet cubicle on the north wall. There were rows of desks down the left had side, chairs on the right.

  "Everything’s empty," Burns said, pulling out a drawer from a cabinet. "That means this place was evacuated. Which means that the people knew they were being invaded, which also means this happened a while ago - our communications with them are either out of date..."

  "Or doctored," I said.

  "I can't believe this," He shouted and slammed a fist into the thin steel of the cabinet. "We're right in the middle of enemy territory."

  "Are we assuming the city has fallen?"

  "There's only one way to find out." Tekoa was stood behind one of the desks with a small digi com box in his arms. "ARC will figure out that we've gone here. They'll be on their way - might as well try at least."

  "We've nothing to lose," I said. Burns gave the nod and Tekoa began to work the controls. Burns motioned me to one corner of the room away from the others.

  "For the first time in a long time I thought this was it - the command I wanted. A command that wasn't just training exercise for fresh-faced troopers. A command that might actually make a difference. Now I've got half the team dead and we'll be joining them soon." Burns' face was twisted in desperation and fear. “What the fuck am I supposed to do, John?”

  “Lead. The worst thing you can do right now is question yourself. You'll undermine the team and put lives at risk.”

  “I've fucked it up John. People are dead. Good people.” he hissed.

  “We didn't pick the drop site and our intel was shit. Fact. You know better than to blame yourself for this. But what I will say is the longer we stay here the more at risk we are. This site is too predictable. We need to keep moving.”

  I could see Dan pulling himself together. I knew he would, he wasn't weak, he just needed the facts putting out there plainly. “What do we know?”

  “Comms are down. We can't raise the Avalon or the Midian for evac. Our only hope is that the city hasn't fallen and we can use their comms to call for assistance.”

  “Then you have your plan, Lieutenant.” I said. Dan put a hand on my shoulder again but this time it was in thanks. Then he turned to the remaining members of his unit.

  “We move out. We can't stay here, ARC will be on us shortly and we need to continue to our only hope and that's the city of Dothon. Pack up and be ready to move. ASAP.”

  "I want another pop at 'em, sir. One for Tash. She went down at the farmhouse," Walker said.

  "Ten for me, I owe Mally. He went down in the forest." Green this time.

  "I've got a score I want to better," Brand added. We looked to Dan who just shrugged.

  "I think you're all nuts."

  There was a loud squeal as the digi-com came alive.

  "I've got a signal, Lieutenant," Tekoa said. "It's definitely coming from nearby."

  "How near, soldier?" He turned up the volume. Then our hearts sank.

  "CLOSING IN ON OUTPOST FIVE. POWER SOURCE DETECTED. GO TO RADIO SILENCE."

  *

  At every available opening there was a trooper. At the doorway one of the desks had been dragged across and served as cover for Burns, Tekoa and Phillips. Brand had crawled up through the roof hatch used to adjust the antenna and was led on the roof. Walker, Green and Misch had moved to the west wall and me, Wulfgar and Thompson were on the east.

  "Save your ammo, keep it short and controlled. Then withdraw to the north wall. Knives at the ready, people," Phillips whispered.

  "Good luck and give 'em hell," Burns finished, just as the first shadows began to walk across the moonlit field.

  Wulfgar opened up with his machine gun, cutting a swathe through the night. Shapes fell down and hot brass showered me. Rounds began slamming into the concrete and overhead Brand's rifle spoke in accurate succession.

  The whole building began to shake, dust falling from the ceiling as it was hit from all sides by sustained firepower. I blasted a trooper who'd made it close to the wall and Thompson took out another two charging from the left while Wulfgar struggled to fix his jammed weapon.

  Shots began to penetrate the concrete and Thompson went down screaming, his leg severed at the hip. I felt his blood splatter across the side of my face but I couldn't risk turning away to help him. They were coming in thick and fast now and Wulfgar was still fumbling with the machine gun.

  Wulfgar began to yell at them just as he got his weapon back up, a guttural noise, which for a second scared me more than ARC. Then he yanked on the trigger and let lose a deadly hail of rounds. I got down from the hatch and tried to help Thompson, but it was too late. He was led in a pool of lifeblood and his face was lifeless and still.

  Wulfgar's shoulder vented a thick spray of blood as a slug passed straight through it. He didn't even move, just kept his gun blazing away. I got back up to the hatch and added my fire to his, taking down three ARC troopers pulling up a rocket launcher. The tube dropped and released a white hot round into the sky.

  The west wall fell. The whole place was bathed in light and dust as a rocket exploded on its surface. Walker and Green were thrown across the room like rag dolls, Misch took a chunk of stone through his stomach and fell down in two halves.

  Wulfgar and me dropped and began firing out of the breach as the ARC troopers began to flood in. Burns was pulling Walker out of the way; Brand dropped from the roof hatch and dragged Green into the toilet cubicle. ARC men were clambering over Misch' body to get past but Wulfgar emptied the last of his ammo into them, cutting them up into pieces. I threw him my machine gun and unslung the shotgun with its seven shells. Together we charged forward, dropping at poor Misch' corpse and taking down two more troopers on their way in. Brand was firing too and her large calibre rounds streaked golden lines through the smoke filled room on their way to their targets.

  Then it stopped.

  Everything went quiet and we thought we were finished, that they'd managed to bring up some heavy equipment to blow up the entire building. Burns clambered to the nearest opening and looked out.

  "They're pulling back," he said.

  "They're gonna blow us up!" yelled Brand who was cradling Green as he led on the floor.

  "Wait, I can hear something," I said. It was a thumping sound, steady and getting louder. Then the fields were washed with silvery light and the trees began to sway violently as it dropped from the sky. ARC machine guns began to fire randomly at whatever it was and were met by the monotone cry of a twin laser cannon. Invisible beams of super heat ripped into the forest, trees began to fall and the screams of dying troopers were drowned out as the vessel began to land on the western side of the building.

  "Jesus Christ - it's one of ours!" Cried Walker when he spotted it. The hulk of a ship settled on the grass and its hatches blew open. Six heavily armoured troops burst out and took up covering positions, another trooper waving us inside.

  "Hurry, get in!" He yelled. Burns and Phillips lifted Walker and carried him up the ramp. Wulfgar took Green on his broad shoulders while me and Brand dragged the bodies of Misch and Thompson, Tekoa following behind. As soon as we were all inside the ship lurched upwards and banked right sharply.

  We sat there in silence, staring at each other. The relief had overwhelmed us, but now it was turning into depression and sadness. Sadness because of the seventeen
people who hadn't made it this far, who somewhere out there were rotting in a farm house, in the forest or even on this ship. One of the troopers began to tend Wulfgar's wound, another wrapped up my thigh where the ARC knife had sliced into it. I looked at Burns from across Thompson's body and his eyes caught mine. He began to shake his head as the tears streaked down his face. I looked at Walker, Phillips, Green, Tekoa, Wulfgar and Brand. All had glistening lines running down from their eyes.

  The pilot of the craft turned slightly in his seat. "Lieutenant, we're approaching the city walls now."

  CHAPTER 7

  The city of Dothon was like a crown of concrete and steel that had been constructed in the middle of a huge open field. Surrounded on all sides by an immense wall, the place looked more like a fortress than a holy city and its central church had a spire that clawed up towards the heavens. Surrounding it were simple dwellings made of ornate stone with red tiled rooftops arranged in streets like that of an old English town. From several hundred feet in the air I could see the early risers making their way in and around the gardens.

  "It was once a military base you see, one of the frontier outposts," Remarked the pilot as he steered us down towards a landing field. "Quite impressive eh?" Most of the unit had drifted off; only Phillips and me were still awake.

  "Yeah," Was all I could muster.

  The ground spun beneath us as the anti-grav pads discharged steadily. There was the stench of ozone associated with such technology and it seemed to waft in through a leak in one of the hatches. Eventually we settled down onto the landing pad and the hatch hissed open. Cool morning air smothered me as I pulled myself out of the seat and stepped down onto the gantry with a clank. Phillips was waking the others as I greeted a Medic coming towards me.

  "Does that leg need treatment?" He asked. I just shook my head and leaned against the grab rail. We were on a raised dais, twenty metres above ground level. Gurneys were being wheeled down towards the ship, Techs and Mechs swarmed over the craft with tools and diagnosis devices. I took a deep breath and stepped forward into the sun.

  "You must be Lieutenant Shap," said a voice. I opened my eyes. Stood facing me was a tall, thin man with graying hair dressed in a pale blue suit. He had dull brown eyes beneath thick-rimmed spectacles.

  "I am. And you are?"

  "Eric. Eric Titus. I'm the Pastor here in Dothon." He shook my hand but I don't remember raising mine, the fatigue was that intense.

  That was the last thing I remembered.

  *

  When I woke I found myself led in a bed so soft I almost forgot where I was. I could so easily have been back on earth in Canada, waking up to the birds and the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. Then as I regained a firmer grip on reality, I realised that it wasn't birds singing - it was the gentle music of morning hymns being sung out in the gardens.

  "You are awake?" A voice asked. I looked around the sunlit chamber and found a young woman perched on a stool by the door.

  "Where am I?" I asked.

  "Dothon University medical wing. You collapsed upon arrival." The girl stood and walked over to me. She was nothing but a fuzzy shape, my eyes bleary and sore. Then as she leaned over I could make out short brown hair and a warm smile. "My name is Rebecca. You must be John.”

  I tried to sit up and felt the sting of the wound on my thigh, the stiffness of the muscles causing a mild cramp. Eventually she helped me to sit up and she passed me a thick gooey red mixture in a mug.

  "It's a pain killer and an anti-inflammatory. Drink it all." I choked it down with a mouthful of water, coughed up a little and she passed me a towel.

  "The others?" I asked.

  "In separate rooms along this hall. The two deceased members of your party are in the Chapel of rest."

  "Thank-you."

  "No need to thank me, Lieutenant. We were glad to help. We just wish it could have been under better circumstances."

  "I'd love to know what's going on," I said, looking out of the window but could see nothing. "My rig, is it here?" Rebecca went over to a cupboard and lifted it off a peg, then brought it over to me. In one of the pouches was a photograph, which reminded me for the first time in several days the reason I'd come here in the first place. I held it up for Rebecca to see.

  "You don't know a David St. John matching this photo do you?" She looked intently at it, and then frowned.

  "Sorry, I don't."

  "Well, it was a long shot I suppose."

  "Who is he?" she asked.

  "A son of a friend. I've been told he was posted here, to one of the missions in the Zion system."

  "I'm sorry, no." She walked over to the window and pushed one of the panes open a little. "Do you feel strong enough for a walk?" I slid out from under the quilt, let my good leg find footing first, and then dragged out the other. Using the bedstead for support I pulled myself upright.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Morning service of course.”

  “But I’m not...”

  “I know.”

  We walked a fair distance to the Church, a good mile at least. I had a walking stick for support but the stiffness was resilient and refused to ease even as I sat down on one of the pews of the great building. It was enormous in size, enough to accommodate the entire city, but humble enough not to risk becoming more important than the message it preached. Unlike most Earth churches there were no elaborate decorations or gold trinkets - just a wooden cross at the front and a wooden altar to preach from. Along the walls were speakers to amplify the sermon to nearly two hundred and sixty members of the congregation, as well as any stood outside in the gardens.

  I didn't hear much of the sermon. I was bored within a few minutes and it reminded me of all the times my brother had attempted to convert me through his vid links and books. Even after all this death I still wasn't ready to throw in my lot with the JC crowd.

  Eric led from the front, giving me a grin when he saw me, and had pointed out our arrival in Dothon and the condition of my unit. Then I realised that something had been missing from my belongings - the bag of dog tags. Eric ended the service by reading out every last one, ARC and comrade alike, then called for prayers for the fallen. I held back the tears a little; the dead didn't need tears wasting on them. They were dead and that was a much better place now. It was us that needed the sorrow - we had more hardships ahead.

  When he'd finished we walked back out into the sunlight, the late morning beginning to warm up as the sun rose overhead. People began to make their way towards jobs or homes, laughing and chatting away to each other. Not one of them seemed to realise that the enemy was on their doorstep.

  "They don't know why we're here - do they?" I asked Rebecca once we were far enough away.

  "We can't risk panic. We've known for a long time the progress of ARC forces in Zion and the Commander has kept it quiet so as not to startle them. Don't forget, they are just humble people who don't know much about the enemy."

  "And how did you come to know about them?" She laughed.

  "John, I'm the Commander's daughter."

  *

  Had I not been told, the family resemblance would have struck me first. Commander Frakes was a strong oppressive figure, a poster boy for the recruitment ads on Mars but under it all was still the gentle, loving eyes of his daughter. They shared common facial geography, an open face, a kind hearted face. The only difference here was that Commander Frakes had been scarred beneath the surface by countless atrocities and the poison of such memory was leaking into his flesh.

  The remaining members of the unit were gathered in a large open plan briefing room encased in a dome of safety glass. At the end of an oval table sat Frakes flanked by two armoured bodyguards, to his left was Eric Titus and at the back of the room were a line of armed troops. We sat around the table in no particular order, except Lieutenant Burns and Sergeant Phillips who sat nearest to Frakes. Burns took him through the events that followed the attack on the Midian and he seemed to listen
intently, nodding when appropriate. He asked few questions while Titus fidgeted every time ARC was mentioned.

  "Which brings me to thank you for your help at the outpost," Burns began to finish. "It would have been our last stand if you hadn't intervened." Frakes raised a hand and shook his head. For some reason I was reminded of a Politician back on Earth, playing down a baby kiss or a tax reduction. Frakes seemed to be secretly priding himself.

  "No, it is I that thank you. Without the valuable information your team provided, we would never have known the strength of the enemy forces without risking the lives of my scout teams. The way I see it, God has led you to this place for reasons beyond our understanding, but reasons I am sure will be revealed in good time."

  "Sir, I would like to examine the city schematics if I may. I would like to begin preparations to defend Dothon until the arrival of the Avalon. We must hurry, we have little..." Eyes began to dart between eyes. "Is there a problem?" Burns asked.

  "We received a distorted message from one of our sub-space relays. The Avalon was destroyed over three days ago," said Frakes. Burns looked to Phillips who could only shrug.

  "How reliable is that relay? If Earth has been receiving false messages for weeks, could this be another?"

  "With respect, Lieutenant, in either circumstance the Avalon will not be arriving on time. If it is a false claim then I'm sure the ARC forces would make sure that it became true by any means necessary."

  "Then I assume a distress message..."

  "One was drafted and sent over a week ago. We can only assume it was intercepted." Frakes leaned forward and his face lost its political edge. "We have seen the ships landing. We have seen them constructing their bases. We have seen them hunt down and capture our people who stray out of our range. They are returned to us on carts made of wood, burning alive as they hurtle down the hill towards our city walls. Their heads are cleaved from their bodies, their children pinned to the corpse. For weeks now we have watched and sent out message after message after message in the hope that we would be spared such a fate. Every day and every night the people are praying. We have faith that we will be saved from ARC, but at this point I am afraid that my faith is beginning to fail." Defeated, he slumped back in his chair. "But if I am to die, then I shall take up my cross and follow Christ as he asks." I almost suggested negotiations, but I imagined they would be met by the same fate.

 

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