The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Hell Above the Skies

by Ava D. Dohn

  *

  Tunnels were not as friendly as the map made them appear. They were part of a labyrinth of stone and concrete arteries that connected underground depots, power stations, and staging areas. Built during the Great War while Mihai’s army held Memphis under siege, most of the complex had remained abandoned for over forty years. Legion’s military guard used some areas for storage and living quarters, but little else. After the Armistice, he had seen little strategic value to the area. Legion’s soldiers remained there only in case the Children’s Empire attempted a rescue of the remains of their fallen comrades.

  Chasileah led her small contingent through dark, dank passageways, sometimes knee-deep in icy-cold, black liquid that stunk of mineral and organic waste. At other times they would find themselves stumbling over jagged, twisted debris where little of the original tunnel still existed. Occasionally the troop came to huge caverns, dimly lit and filled with the activities of war-weary fighters trying to escape the tumult of the battle above.

  Then there was the smell...phew!...the smell! There were few working facilities for proper sanitation. What had not been looted years before was corroded and broken. All supplies needed were carried in. Hygiene was the responsibility of the individual soldier.

  And there were thousands upon thousands of soldiers. Many sat in near total darkness, sleeping, eating, or just staring at nothing. As Chasileah’s group passed, the red glow of dim lights reflected off tired eyes watching them. In some places the people were packed in so close it reminded Jonathan of the rat-infested prison on Patmos that he had once called ‘home’ except, this time, the rats were really battle-weary soldiers hiding from the man-made storm outside.

  On they trudged, skulking along one passageway after another. All the while, the shock of exploding missiles and bombs shook the reinforced walls of this claustrophobic prison. At times, the violent concussion of a near miss would knock members of the party to their knees or cause them to tumble over bodies of resting soldiers. The inevitable shower of dust and debris raining from above would quickly follow. Litter bearers hurried by with empty stretchers, returning laden with the injured.

  Eventually they came to a large chamber filled with rusty machinery, the remains of huge power generating stations. The vaulted roof lay open to the night, giant holes no longer secreting this inner world from the star-filled sky. Chasileah stopped, staring up at the broken ceiling. Time passed without her moving.

  Jonathan eventually tapped her on the arm. “Major, is something wrong?”

  Chasileah turned, the dim light revealing a distressed face. She attempted a smile. “It’s all right. I’ll be fine. I knew we’d have to pass this way. I hoped time had dulled the memories.”

  She called for her party to take a short break. Sitting down next to Jonathan, the major spoke of long-ago events. “Above us is a low mountain ridge with a rock-strewn valley below it. On a bitter-cold, early winter morning, I led my regiment down that ridge into what came to be called the ‘Battle of Bauglow’. It lasted the better part of a day and I lost eighty percent of those in my charge.”

  Pointing up toward a fissure in a distant wall, Chasileah explained, “I managed to collect the remainder of my regiment in these ruins, dragging a badly wounded Zadar through there and to the floor below. For some reason, the enemy didn’t follow us. The next day reinforcements arrived. I was taken back to a hospital along with most of the survivors, and eventually to a rehabilitation center on EdenEsonbar.”

  She sat silent for some time. “That was the end of the war for me. I was too broken up for combat duty. By the time I could get around, the Armistice was in place.”

  Jonathan could see the pain in Chasileah’s eyes as she finished her account. “A military investigation concluded I was not at fault for the loss of my regiment.” She shook her head. “I think the wholesale slaughter at Memphis was so great, and so many officers were to blame for what happened, that we were all pardoned for our actions.” Her eyes met his. “I failed my regiment. I was not a good officer.” She hung her head. “And there is no absolution for that.”

  A hand gently touched Chasileah’s arm. She looked up to see two empathetic eyes staring into hers. She interrupted Jonathan as he was beginning to offer consolation. “That way!” The major pointed. “Through that fissure...”

  Chasileah stood, dusted herself off while ordering the others up. “We have to go topside for awhile. Keep your heads down and your weapons up. There may well be enemy snipers with night vision. We may even run into a hostile patrol.” She tugged on Jonathan’s sleeve. “Stay low and stay close. Got it?”

  As Jonathan pushed his way through the broken crevasse into the cool, fresh night air, he wanted to sing out the joy of being free of the putrid world below. Remembering the major’s command, he quickly fought down an urge to do so as he hurried to catch up. Jonathan stumbled along the shadowy, rock-strewn parapet, ducking from side to side in an attempt to avoid the many soldiers stationed along the battlement.

  Jonathan finally caught up with Chasileah near the Clamshell, a hollow depression about thirty rods across. Except for the occasional boulder or bomb crater, there was little shelter to be had from searching eyes.

  The major motioned him forward. When he got near, she whispered, “The trail goes off to the left and around this stink hole, but we don’t have time for it. Watch me and do as I do. If you stop to enjoy the scenery, you may not be going home.” Without saying another word, she plunged into the darkness.

  Jonathan watched Chasileah’s shadowy figure bound first to the right and then the left and, then while on a full run, fling herself forward, crash on her belly and disappear from sight. The next second, to his total surprise, blue and green tracers filled the sky from her machinegun. He was stunned into inaction.

  A hand slapped him on the back, pushing him forward as the sergeant angrily snorted, “Get your ass going, or we’re all dead!”

  Jonathan jumped into the open, running for his life. He tried to remember the way Chasileah dodged, but believed he managed to find every cesspool-like stink-hole and jagged rock in the shell. Now he understood the name ‘Clamshell’. True, it was a depression, but it smelled like rotten fish. He was afraid he’d be sick.

  As Jonathan ran, he could see little puffs of dust dance around his feet. He couldn’t hear the bullets but knew full well that they were making the dust clouds. Then he saw the crater Chasileah was shooting from. In he dove beside her, bruising his shoulder and scraping his face.

  The major gave him no time to consider his situation. “See that outcropping? Get your sights on it and let go!”

  Jonathan squinted. All he could see was a black outline over a half mile away. “What? Where?”

  “Over there!” Chasileah shouted. “Get your sights on those rocks and let go!”

  How was it possible that they were being shot at from so far away? Jonathan didn’t dare argue. He pointed his rapid-fire rifle and started pulling on the trigger. In seconds, Chasileah was gone, running, dodging this way and that to avoid getting hit by enemy snipers.

  As he shot away into the darkness, the sergeant slammed into his side while plunging into the crater. The woman, her face painted black, glared at him. She grabbed his rifle, pulling it toward her. “Get your damned gun on auto, fool!” She snapped back a lever on the rifle’s side and slapping the weapon into Jonathan’s hands, ordered, “Pull that trigger until the chamber’s empty. Then shove in another clip and do it all over again! Hear?!”

  The sergeant took aim and opened up on the distant target, sending bright-colored tracers into the darkness. Over the next several minutes the remainder of the troop managed their way past the two, diving into the crater and then charging off into the night. All the while he and the sergeant kept firing.

  After the last trooper passed them, the sergeant hit Jonathan on the back. “Get goin’ and don’t stop! We’re gon
na roll up the fence!”

  Jonathan ran with all his might, holding a very hot-barreled weapon. The sergeant had a hand on his back pushing him. “Faster, damn it! Faster! It’s not time to watch the scenery!”

  So this was ‘watching the scenery’?! He tried to put on speed, but the sixty pounds of baggage he carried bogged him down. The sergeant sputtered, “Damned staff officers! Worse than the enemy! They’ll guarantee to get ya killed!”

  After what felt an eternity, Jonathan saw a broken wall just beyond the Clamshell. He dove behind it, panting, thinking his heart was going to burst.

  “Stop loafing and lend a hand!” The sergeant angrily chided. She drew a bead on the distant hill. “The others need our help!”

  ‘R-r-r-r-r-i-p!’ The sergeant emptied her clip. ‘Click-snap-click!’ Out popped the old clip and in went a new one. By this time, Jonathan was at the ready, lending his contribution to the melee. Gradually, starting with the soldier farthest away and ending with Chasileah, everyone made it to the safety of the wall.

  Chasileah worked her way to the front of the waiting line and led them along another section of blistered and broken trench. The sergeant patted Jonathan on the arm, smiling, “Good job, Lieutenant. Sorry I was so rough on you, but I’ve found it’s the best way to get inexperienced personnel to do what’s necessary.” She coughed and winced, leaning toward her right, and then grinned.

  Even in the dark, Jonathan could see the woman’s glistening-white teeth and sparkling eyes. He thanked her, asking, “Do you know me…who I am?”

  “I know you’re an inexperienced soldier. That’s all I need to know.” The sergeant helped Jonathan up and directed him to go on. As they made their way along behind the others, she tried to answer some of his many questions.

  One Jonathan asked was, “Why all those bright fires from our weapons? Didn’t that reveal where we were? It didn’t let us hide very well.”

  As she squeezed her way past some ordnance boxes, the sergeant explained, “The enemy has night vision goggles or gun sights. They already knew where we were. By loading our guns with tracer bullets, it was hoped we might distract them and throw off their aim.” She coughed again. “I guess it worked well enough this time. Doesn’t always...”

  A few minutes later, the little soldier band was shuffling along another dark, dank tunnel. The air was a little fresher, but just barely. Jonathan lost all track of time. Each turn in the tunnel looked like the last. Each shadowy figure resting on the floor looked like the last. After what felt like ages, the soldiers came to a ladder and climbed into the early morning darkness. Off they trudged along another confusing maze of trenches and bulwarks.

  The sky was beginning its early glow in the east when Chasileah finally directed the party back down underground. It took another half hour to reach their destination. The sergeant offered to wait for her and Jonathan in a tiny recess not far from the command room. The major accepted the offer, thanking her and the others for their assistance. As Jonathan and Chasileah hurried forward, the squad sat down to wait their return. In only moments, most were fast asleep.