I slept fitfully, dreaming of the end. It played itself over and over. Sometimes I died alone, sometimes surrounded by troops, sometimes shot, sometimes crushed under stone. In the end I woke up and led there staring at the bunk above me until I drifted off again, only to repeat the torment.
The third time I found myself led on my side and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness I noticed a shape kneeling beside me. I sat up and flicked a switch for an overhead reading lamp. The pale white light cast itself on the kneeling form of Karen Brand.
"Brand?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "What's wrong?" When she looked up her eyes were red raw and her cheeks stained with dry tears.
"I don't want to die."
"None of us do, so we must try to stay strong and survive another four days. Help will come." I swung my legs over the edge of the bunk and sat there, elbows resting on my knees, head bowed.
"All my life I've watched death through the scope. All this time I've been so far away from it all. But now I can see it without the scope - it's right there in front of me and now I'm in its sights. I'm the target.”
She looked down at her rifle and I wondered if she was capable of being more than three feet from it. Had she become so engrossed in her internal struggle that her only anchor to reality was in that piece of steel and plastic? Or had her life been halted prematurely by parents who forced their little girl into military service too early?
“True. I can't give you some tale about how we're going to get out of this or how it's all part of some divine plan. Or that even in death things will get better. I don't have a false hope for you. But all I do know is that I’ve been here before. I've survived because me and the people around me didn't give up. Those that did are dead now.”
“How do you not give up?” she asked through broken sobs.
“Keep asking that question and you'll find out.”
Eventually she smiled, wiped away the tears and together we stood up.
"Thank-you," she said. "Sometimes I just need to vent some of the stuff that’s built up. Call it therapy."
"Hell, we all need to sometimes."
"Maybe I'll return the favour one day."
"I hope you never have to."
*
As dawn broke I found myself on the wall again, though this time I was surveying the damage done to the western gate. Although the attack here had been less concentrated than the north, the main entrance and exit to Dothon had suffered. The two metre thick doors had been hit with a successful suicide bomb and the outer skin had fused in a molten heap that dribbled down to the ground. Joined permanently, they would never open again but they had been significantly weakened.
"The early bird eh?" said a voice from behind me. I turned and saw Tekoa walking his patrol line.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Me neither. Green and Walker though - out like a light and snoring away in the billet."
"That's typical." He came and stood next to me, whistling low as he looked at the doors.
"Those bombs of theirs are quite nasty, aren't they? I sent a team out to retrieve the ones left at your side of the fence. Quite a piece of work. I thought I might as well out them to good use." I looked at him, puzzled. "Oh you'll see. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
The bodies of the ARC troops lay rotting in the early sun. Large black birds swooped down and plucked strands of muscle and skin from the bones, carrying them away in their shimmering silvery beaks. I noticed that there were no weapons or belts on the corpses, probably retrieved by Tekoa and his men.
"What a way to die," I muttered but he must have heard me.
"There's worse ways, Shap. I've been listening to some of the civilians; they've been sharing their horror stories with us. Friends and families taken while working the farms, coming back in pieces dropped from the air to terrify them, blood dropping like rain onto the city. Seeing those bodies out there makes me feel robbed of some kind of justice, like maybe they should have suffered more."
"That would be a waste of resources,” I said coldly.
"I suppose.”
"Peace is the largest cause of war in my opinion.”
"Is that some kind of Zen shit?” Tekoa said.
“Possibly. Sounds smart doesn't it?” We laughed.
As we stood gazing over the edge, lost in our own thoughts, there was movement from the tree line to the west. Tekoa, binos swinging on a cord round his neck, lifted them to his eyes and surveyed the forest.
"I think this is phase two," he said and pressed the digi-com control on his lapel. "Tekoa, Burns." There was a pause as we waited for a response. Vague shapes could be seen moving amongst the vegetation and I took the binos from Tekoa and had a look myself. True enough, troops were moving into some kind of formation.
"Burns receiving go ahead Tekoa."
"Sir, we have movement to the west, possible mobilisation of the enemy forces."
"Received. Stand-by."
I scanned the horizon trying to catch a look south and north, but the ramparts blocked my view. Then I passed the binos back and tapped my lapel.
"Shap, Brand."
"Brand receiving, go ahead."
"What can you see?"
"Give me a moment, Shap." I watched the forest shifting like a red tide as the lines were strengthened by medium strength armour. I looked at the dead ground between us and began to wish it were a few miles longer.
"Brand, Shap. Forces concentrated to the west, small movement in the north, nothing on the south."
"Shap received. Keep me informed." Suddenly the klaxon began to wail into life and the civilian population began to hurry from their homes to the church. Troops scaled the ladders and took up their posts.
"I suppose you'd best get to the north wall," Tekoa said with an air of defeat in his tone. He held out his hand. "Good luck." We shook. "It's been a pleasure."
"We're not finished yet, Will," I replied. "I am in no rush to die just yet."
"I am. Somebody might take my place." I heard him laughing as I walked away.
CHAPTER 12
The tanks came at us first. A good number of the north wall troops had been pulled and sent to the western gate but of the men I had left, a great number of them were from the reserves and hadn't seen combat yet.
"Wait until I give the order," I shouted over the rumbling machinery. They were a lot bigger this time, armed with hull mounted siege cannons designed to do the maximum damage to the wall. No troops walked alongside them, they just plodded along the field skirting the wreckage of their fallen comrades. I tapped my lapel and called up Wulfgar who came jogging, his two aides struggling to keep up.
"What do you suggest?" I asked him and pointed to the mammoth vehicles. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, and then waved one of the aides away to one of the ramparts. He came back carrying a slender tube with a sharply pointed missile sticking out of one end. Raising it to his shoulders, he took aim and I began to move the nearest lads back.
The rocket hissed loudly as it left the weapon. Wulfgar jerked backwards as it spun downwards towards the nearest tank, piercing the front armour with a puff of black smoke. There was a moment or two before the hatch blasted up into the sky and the sides blew outwards in a flash of white fire. I must have looked too pleased because when I indicated the rest of the tanks, he just shrugged.
"That was the last one," his aide said.
"We don't have any more?" I asked as my heart sank.
"Nothing."
"What about the mortar crew?"
"Out of rockets. They've taken up weapons and are manning the south wall. All we have left are the anti-air missiles and we can't risk wasting them."
"No, no. I understand." I looked at the advancing line, their course unaltered by the loss of one of their own. "Our rounds will never pierce that kind of armour," I said to myself. Wulfgar turned and began to walk away, his tired aides taking up pace behind. I looked at the lads and sighed. They were looking at me, wondering what the hell we
were going to do.
At that point a young boy came running down the wall with a box in his hands. When he reached me he fell to his knees and tried to catch his breath.
"What is it?" I asked, taking the box from him. It was a detonator switch.
"Tekoa, Shap."
"Shap receiving, go ahead."
"That surprise we were talking about." I looked at the box, the boy still unable to speak. Then I looked at where the tanks were on the field and noticed them approaching a line of holes dug in the ground. My spirits lifted again and I pulled back two troops from one of the firing posts, stepping up to get a better view.
"What are we going to do, sir?" One of them asked.
"Watch." I waited until they were right on top of the line, and then flicked the safety cover to one side. The weakest point of a tank is its belly and as they began to pass over the holes I thumbed the switch. In a moment the field was a blaze as the explosives melted the steel underbelly of the great machines, spilling the contents of their fuel tanks. Most of the vehicles flipped over with the force of the blast. The rest ground to a halt as the tracks were fused together from the super-heat. Munitions began to detonate inside the burning hulls, shredding them from the inside. Rounds whizzed past overhead, striking the wall but having no effect. Most of the line ducked down quickly, the others watching the spectacle with awe and a few began to clap and applaud.
"Shap, Tekoa."
"Tekoa receiving. You're welcome."
With the tank attack broken, the remaining vehicles began to turn and move away from the wall. The entire northern field was a mess and would be virtually impassable by track or foot. Patches of fire and random explosions would keep even the hardest veteran at bay.
"What now sir?" Somebody asked from the line. I looked to the west and tapped the digi-com.
"Shap, Tekoa."
"Tekoa receiving."
"ARC forces withdrawing. Do you require assistance?"
"Hell yes!" I called up fifty of the troops, leaving twenty to man the wall with orders to radio in if the enemy attempted to cross.
"On me." I shouted and we began to double-time it down the wall to the western gate.
As we hit the third rampart, the wall exploded beside us, throwing three troops backwards in a hail of stone and blood. Machine gun fire struck the wall like rain, rounds ricocheting this way and that and another of my men went down, his head shattered by stray bullets. We pressed on and dared not to look over the wall, heads down and jogging as fast as we could manage.
The man behind me tripped, his leg catching on a fallen stone. The one behind him didn't have time to move out of the way and slammed into him, bowled over just as a tank shell detonated where their heads would have been. Realising their near-death experience, they quickly got up and carried on, heads even lower this time.
"Tekoa, Shap. Move it, this gate is going..." There was a loud crash and a screeching of metal on metal as we reached the gate. Tekoa had turned some of his men round, directing grenades down into the entrance. A tank fitted with cutting torches had managed to breach the already crippled doors and now men were pouring in behind it.
"BREACH!" Tekoa shouted over the digi-com. "WEST GATE IS BREACHED!"
I ordered the men down the ladders and together we ran for the nearest red brick house. Already ARC soldiers were taking shots at us, but most went wide and tore up the farmland behind us. At a low wall I dropped down, five men either side of me. The rest had split up, dividing themselves up amongst any cover they could find. The battle had turned now; we were into the final stages. Like Frakes I began to realise we wouldn't make the five days. But that was no reason to let them win easily.
Rising up we let loose with a furious barrage, taking six ARC troopers moving away from the tank. Grenades from the wall dropped down around it, blasting one of the tracks off and killing several straggling soldiers. Another landed on the roof just as the hatch opened, killing the driver and setting the surface of its armour on fire.
From the breach the troops surged in, splitting into two. Some went east and began to fire at the anti-air troops. The rest used the tank hull as cover, blasting away at our positions. We rose again, my shotgun bucking in my hands as I felled a red uniform running towards us with a tube charge in his hands. The charge detonated, slinging mud and grass at us. Someone next to me hurled his own grenade but as it left his grip his arm was severed at the shoulder and he went down screaming. I fired again, killing two and wounding another. The men on my left concentrated their fire to the front of the tank wreckage and managed to finish another three.
"When they come at us again, we're going over," I shouted. "Those behind, take up covering positions. When we drop, let 'em have it!" The red line surged again and with a loud cry we jumped over the wall, firing from the hips. It was a bloody clash. Two on my left went down, another on the right was decapitated. We had the advantage though and we pressed it. When my weapon was empty I gave the order and we dropped to our stomachs and dug in.
Rounds thundered over our heads as those behind us met the remaining men head on. Bodies dropped around us, tumbling down like felled trees and one landed inches from my face as I slid shell after shell into my shotgun. I signalled the rear line to cease-fire as the last of the ARC troops went down.
"Up and forwards!" I shouted, charging the tank husk. Two red shapes leapt from behind the turret. One had his leg blown off by those on my left, the other jumped and landed on the man next to me. Knives were quickly drawn and three others managed to prize him off, slitting his throat.
Pulling the pin from a grenade, I clambered up the side of the enormous machine and dropped it into the hatch. The rest of my team got out of the way just as it detonated. Flames licked out from the slits and the munitions ignited, shredding the remains like foil.
"SEAL THAT DOOR!" I shouted. As we rushed towards the gaping hole, six enemy men strode through it, firing in all directions. I dropped two as they came in, then ducked back behind the tank's track covers. Two more of my men were killed outright but the rest quickly dispatched the remaining four ARC troopers in a haze of cordite and blood. The air was clogged with the stench of burning metal and death.
Suddenly the tank I was leaning against jerked backwards. We only just managed to get out of the way when an agricultural tractor appeared through the smoke, it's front fitted with a huge ram. It was shoving the wreck back towards the gate, forcing it to plug up the gap. Sparks flew from the grinding parts of the tracks as they refused to budge, but the entire mass of steel was eventually shoved into place. When I saw Green behind the wheel, I showed nodded in affirmation.
*
With the breach sealed, we hunted down any remaining ARC troops and ordered them to surrender, to no avail. They uttered not one word. We repeated the request to a group who'd barricaded themselves inside a barn. Nothing. Eventually every last one died fighting, which seemed a senseless waste of men.
Tired and drained of morale, the remaining twenty-eight troops who'd followed me from the north wall made for the nearest building - the University. All sides reported a total withdrawal of ARC, and then began to tally up the dead and wounded. It wasn't good news and in the end I pulled the digi-com out of my ear.
By the end of the third day the fight had left the survivors and it began to show. People marched like zombies, faces a picture of despair. Others cried to themselves where ever they were, sobbing into their hands. As night crept in, I couldn't help but feel it would be the last one most of the people here would see again.
"They know the end is coming," said Walker who I'd met leaving the University. We stood in the pale moonlight sharing a tin mug of tea that he'd managed to scrounge from the kitchens. It tasted bitter and stewed, but we agreed it was the best brew we'd had in months.
"Anything on the radio?" I asked, passing the mug back.
"Nope. But we've got one of the security staff constantly sending, so if there is anyone out there at least they might hear it."
"Then at least there's a chance. Maybe the Avalon has managed to get into range."
"The chances are slim, but right now I'll take what's on offer." He sipped from the mug and I rooted around in my belt kit, found a small vial of amber liquid and uncapped it. Taking the mug I poured in a generous measure and passed it back. Grinning, he held it up. "Here's to a hero's death."
"Here's to death, either way. May it be swift and painless." We clinked beverages together and sunk them. The fifteen-year-old scotch went down my throat like acid. Walker looked up at the stars.
The University had taken on a new role since the attacks had begun. With its extensive medical study facilities and seemingly endless dormitories, it had quickly become the billets for every soldier, volunteer and security staff member. A makeshift medical bay had been erected on the ground floor to cope with the endless stream of injured troops that were coming in faster than they could patch up and send back out. The staff were civilian, students who had trained there before the invasion. Most had to rely on the more experienced teachers there and found themselves in one hell of a baptism of fire.
I found Rebecca amongst the worst. Men here were dying in the blood stained beds, their screams and moans becoming an orchestra of agony. These were the most severe traumas - severed limbs, crushed skulls, spinal damage and blindness. Franticly running between the beds, the limited staff looked near to the grave themselves and I had to squeeze between them to get to her.
"How is it going?" I asked, but it seemed like a really stupid question considering. I couldn't think of much else to say.
"Well this is as close to Hell as you can get, John. Soak it up, most of these people will be dead by the morning and there isn't a damn thing we can do about it." She stood over the body of a dead volunteer, her white smock now a tapestry of blood and sweat. In her hands she still carried the surgical saw she had used to amputate the poor man's arm, just before he died from the blood loss.
Soul at War Page 9