Sixth Cycle

by Darren Wearmouth

  A woman, dressed in an Omega Guard jacket, fell to her side and attempted to grip the stem of a spear that punctured her chest. An axe twisted through the air between Jake and one of his team and smashed into an SUV’s windshield behind the wall.

  Jake tracked an enemy in his sights and pulled the trigger. He didn’t have time to check an enemy’s fate. The weight of the advance meant the guard were concentrating their fire on stopping the ladders hitting the wall, leaving the wastelanders in the forest free to take shots at them.

  Citizens threw their bricks and rocks. A man in a blue coverall dragged a prone guard away from the edge of the wall by his collar and grabbed his rifle. One of Trader’s team took a round to the throat, toppled back, and fell from the rampart.

  A ladder brushed against the wall to Jake’s right. His team fired at two wastelanders who attempted to climb. He grabbed the ladder’s rough arms and thrust it away from the wall.

  More wastelanders continued to charge out of the forest. Jake glanced along the wall and noticed a few ladders propped against it. Another two guards were hit and dropped to the ground. They were holding, but couldn’t sustain this effort for a long period. It seemed Finch decided to throw everything against them in a battle of attrition.

  Jake felt conscious that he had to keep an eye out for wastelanders armed with rocket launchers. He ducked down and moved closer to the gate in a running crouch. Wastelander weapons continued to fill the air, most hitting the wall or flying overhead.

  He pressed his radio to his mouth. “Skye, what’s the situation on the south?”

  “Same as before. They’re firing but not coming out. What about you?”

  A round ricocheted on the wall next to Jake and sprayed small chips of stone against his cheek. The screams below sounded close. In the building crowd on the grass outside, any of them could have a launcher.

  “You need to get your team over here. This is the main point of attack.”

  “Roger that.”

  He glanced at the attackers and guessed over two thousand had rushed forward. A quarter were down, but more numbers were reaching the ladders. He pumped rounds into three who attempted to hoist a fallen ladder next to the gatehouse.

  Ten yards to his right, a man changed his magazine and leaned over the rampart. A wastelander’s arms appeared and dragged him over the wall. Two of Trader’s team rushed forward and took care of the threat.

  “Herbie, Harrison, what’s your situation?” Jake shouted into the radio.

  “No sign of the enemy,” Harrison said.

  “Send half of your force to the north.”

  “Negative,” Harrison said. “We will hold our section of the wall.”

  “Herbie here. I’ll send half of my team. Out.”

  Jake shook his head. Harrison wouldn’t have anything to defend if they didn’t reinforce the thinning defenses on the north wall. He obviously didn’t understand the meaning of a dynamic defense.

  Jake swept the area for any wastelander carrying a bulky green tube. His biggest concern was with all of the force occupied on the closest threats, it would give them more space and time to position their launchers and destroy the gates. Dust continued to impair his vision as he continued to search and fire.

  A hundred members of the Kappa guard streamed around the rampart from the east. Jake crouched to change his magazine and said to the front two, “Over there, guys, fill in the gaps.”

  They nodded and continued forward, firing at targets as they went.

  A loud explosion boomed from the edge of the forest. A split second later the gates shuddered as a cloud of fire and smoke rose above them.

  “Damaged but holding,” a voice called out.

  Jake put a round in the chamber and leaned over the wall. A wastelander dropped his launcher, picked up a battle-axe from a casualty, and ran for the gates. Others below the wall and on the edge of the forest were distracted by the loud explosion. They turned and followed.

  He emptied his magazine into the group. Others joined him and fired. Jake glanced along to the pillboxes in front of the barracks. Wastelanders were over. Ten of them wrestled with Omega guards and citizens. Skye and her team raced up the track from the captain’s tower to the fight, pausing to shoot and running for the inner steps. He knew he could rely on her.

  Jake searched the forest again. They couldn’t afford to take another hit, especially with wastelanders converging on the gate.

  Another loud boom echoed from the forest. He only got a chance to see the backfire in the gloom before a rocket exploded at the gates. Wastelanders fell in front of it. They didn’t care if they made casualties of their own people, as long as they broke through. The gates gave a loud metallic groan.

  Jake continued firing through the smoke left by the rocket. His team did the same. People cried out in pain along the rampart. He felt they were hanging on by the skin of their teeth.

  He lifted his radio again. “Harrison, send half your men. Now.”

  No response.

  Skye’s team had successfully retaken the ground by the inner steps, but wastelanders had scaled the wall between the two positions and swung their weapons at the decreasing number of defenders. Bodies littered the bottom of the inner wall and spread along the rampart.

  He looked to his left. One of the gates leaned in. One more strike would do the trick. Most of the wastelanders headed for it.

  A throng had already gathered after the explosion. Every available man and woman close enough to have them in their sights fired into the crowd. As the front wastelanders dropped, others climbed over the top of them and threw themselves at the damaged gate.

  Skye’s team had retaken the middle section of the wall, but the only way to bring more strength to the fight and ensure superior fire against the continually increasing numbers was to retreat to the inner wall and start again. Harrison would be committed to following the order unless he wanted to be left in the open with wastelanders attacking from his rear.

  Another earsplitting blast ripped through the air, followed by an immediate explosion by the gates. A gust of wind cleared the smoke, revealing a pile of dead wastelanders. The survivors outside, and the others approaching, paused momentarily, probably wondering if they were next in line to be killed by their own side. The gate swayed and screamed on its huge hinges.

  Jake raised the radio. “Retreat. Retreat. Retreat.”

  * * *

  The surviving citizens and guard clambered down the internal ladders and stairs and sprinted across the fields toward the inner ring. A few turned and fired at wastelanders who climbed over the rampart. Most outside were focused on the gate.

  Jake led his depleted eight-man team to the SUV roadblock on the road leading from the gates. All forty stationed by the vehicles had held their position.

  He waited for the repeated calls of retreat to die down on his radio. “Trader, how’s that firing step looking?”

  “We’re good to go. How many more are coming back?”

  Jake glanced through the dusty air. Most were close or already in the inner ring. “Not many more than you can see.”

  “We’ve got good numbers from the south and west.”

  “Higher concentration to the north. I expect a frontal assault.”

  “You got it.”

  Two wastelanders descended the stone steps near the gate tower and charged the roadblock. They were quickly brought down by a hail of bullets. Jake carried out a tactical reload and checked his watch. At half past six, they would soon be losing natural light, adding to the already poor visibility.

  Another explosion boomed to their front. Shrapnel slammed into the SUVs. A man leaning over the hood next to Jake twisted to the paving and his legs twitched. One of the iron gates dropped through the smoke and crashed to the ground. He felt the paving shudder below his feet.

  “Prepare to fire your launchers,” Jake shouted.

  He squinted into the thinning smoke. Everything seemed silent for a moment.

&n
bsp; The first wastelander appeared through the shroud. One of the team dropped him with a single shot. A roar followed and a hundred rushed forward. Fifty yards and closing.

  “Fire!”

  Both launchers boomed. One rocket zipped down and exploded in front of the advance, cutting down the front of the mob. The second slammed against the remaining gate, and the explosion smashed it off its hinges.

  All forty men stationed behind the roadblock and Jake’s remaining team fired into the enemy assault. The front twenty fell, but it didn’t deter their comrades. They stumbled over the casualties and continued forward to meet the same fate.

  Jake detected movement in his peripheral vision. Wastelanders were climbing the wall by the vacated pillboxes and appeared on other sections of the north wall. They risked being outflanked if they stayed for too long. Although their fire kept the frontal attack at bay, they would also run out of ammunition soon. This wasn’t a suicide mission.

  He pushed the button on the side of his radio. “Trader, do you have everyone back?”

  “Not sure. I think so. How many are coming through?”

  “Hundreds. Be prepared.”

  Jake dropped the radio and continued to fire. The weight of wastelanders entering the stronghold was too much for their roadblock to hold. Some would start getting through. They spread to either side of the clustered vehicles after seeing their straight advance along the road come to a bullet-ridden halt. A spear skidded along the paving, slid under the vehicle, and shot out by Jake's left boot.

  “Fall back. Fall back,” he shouted.

  The team turned and ran. None stopped to look back. They could hear the shouts and the rapid footsteps behind them. A few seconds' pause would be fatal. Wastelanders crossed the fields from the pillboxes and darted through the gloom.

  Jake neared the inner ring. Trader encouraged them forward, waving through a thin gap in the wall. Gunfire rattled as wastelanders came into the vision of the firing step.

  If they couldn’t stop them here, it was all over. Jake hoped they’d caused enough damage to weaken the enemy forces. If they still had numbers similar to the initial assault, they were all in big trouble.

  He let the team file through the gap first, flicked his rifle to automatic, turned and sprayed the closest pursuers. Others dropped around him as rifles cracked overhead.

  “Jake. In. Now!” Trader said.

  He scrambled through the dry stone wall. Trader pulled him clear, and an SUV parked in the gap.

  A group of civilians with makeshift spears gave him a nervous look. Herbie ran along a line of the Kappa guard and shouted encouragement. Ross waved citizens back between the bungalows. Skye stood on the fire step to the right with her team and glanced over at him. He gave her a single nod.

  Jake reloaded with his last full magazine. He had to carry on the fight.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Skye aimed at a charging wastelander and fired. Adrenalin pumped through her veins as she searched for her next target. She wondered how many more could attack. Hundreds lay outside the wall, but hundreds more headed for the inner ring. Shadows moved through the dust. Her team didn’t have enough rounds left to take speculative shots. She ordered them to only shoot at confirmed targets.

  After retreating to the newly formed defense five minutes ago, she led her five surviving team members to the fire step, where they replaced citizens on a section of the inner wall facing north. She watched Jake’s group hold off the initial internal assault against an invisible enemy while she caught her breath. Wastelanders appeared through the gloom, giving chase as the team fell back from the roadblock. Now they were all inside; the final battle lines were drawn.

  Ross ran around like a headless chicken behind her. “They’ll kill us all. We need to keep shooting.”

  Nobody listened. It was obvious what they needed to do.

  Skye turned back to him. “Collect a few citizens and start refilling magazines. We’re gonna need them any minute now.”

  He paused for a moment, nodded and rushed away. Better to have him do something useful than be a distraction. Jake had already ordered others to do the reloading, but she wanted Ross out of the way. They couldn’t afford any confusion.

  An increased rate of fire came from her left. The wastelanders were attacking the west side. At the moment, none got close enough to the northern side to effectively use their spears and axes.

  Wind gusted across the stronghold. The air became clearer. They needed this kind of break if they were to survive.

  The stronghold outer wall slowly came into view across the casualty-infested fields. Wastelanders lined up in front of it, perhaps a hundred long and five ranks deep. A lone figure stood on the rampart above them.

  She nudged the man next to her. “Swap weapons.”

  He exchanged his sniper rifle for her standard-issue rifle. She peered through the telescopic sight.

  Finch held something above his shoulder. Skye put a round in the chamber and exhaled. From six hundred yards she could take him.

  Something flashed behind his body and a hissing trail streaked toward the inner circle as a loud bang echoed around the outer wall.

  “Get down,” somebody shouted.

  A split second later, a loud explosion erupted fifty yards to her right. Debris, fire and smoke shot into the air and showered the surrounding area. People near the impact moaned and cried out for help. From here she could see that the rocket had punctured a ten-yard hole in the wall.

  She squinted through the sight again. The wastelanders roared and charged. Shouts broke out along the fire step. People rushed to pull the injured away and defend the gap. She would too but not before doing this.

  Skye placed Finch’s chest in the center of her crosshairs and fired. His shoulder jerked to one side and he fell off the back of the wall. Hopefully head first to his death. She would celebrate the confirmation later if they pulled through.

  The northern line opened fire. Wastelanders converged on the damaged section. Ryder and his outlaws rushed through the wooden bungalows and joined the defenders. Skye guessed he decided to leave the southern fire step to join the main fight.

  Phillips, his team and Trader streamed through the standing line of thirty mixed brown and royal blue uniforms, and knelt in front of them, increasing the direct firepower. Gunshots continued on the western side. It sounded like the Zeta Forces were holding their own.

  Wastelanders continued to fall, but it didn’t deter the others. They reached within a hundred yards away and only half of them were down.

  She heard Phillips shouting orders, but couldn’t hear what they were above the noise. The rate of fire from the wall increased. Skye crouched next to a section of broken wall and pulled back the rifle bolt.

  She was out of ammo.

  Others suffered the same thing. Ryder and another outlaw produced knives from their belts and braced themselves. One of Phillips’ team held broken pieces of rock in both hands. Three of her team grabbed spears from the civilians cowering behind the base of a wind turbine.

  Forty wastelanders reached within fifty yards away. Only sporadic shots peppered the enemy. At least twenty would hit the wall at this rate.

  “You better take this,” a voice said behind her.

  She glanced back.

  Ross held a loaded magazine forward and drew his pistol. “It’s time to fight.”

  An axe thudded into the center of his chest. He grimaced, dropped the magazine, and fell flat on his back.

  Skye grabbed the mag and thrust it into the housing. She didn’t have time to consider saving him. Besides, many better men had died today. At least his last act was a helpful one. She put a round in the chamber, turned and fired.

  Wastelanders, with bloodstained axes and spears thrust to their front, were almost on top of them. Rage filled their faces. Saliva sprayed through their gritted teeth. Skye took another one down.

  Five wastelanders threw their spears forward. An outlaw grunted and fell to his
side.

  The defenders roared this time. Phillips smashed the butt of his rifle in the face of the first wastelander who reached him. Twenty others charged from the wall and met the advance. Skye leaped over the shattered section and fired at another savage.

  Ryder thrust his knife into a wastelander’s stomach, and they dropped to the ground in a tight embrace. Another outlaw pulled him free.

  More guards and citizens flowed out of the gap. They overwhelmed the remaining enemy, who fell to the ground under a hail of blows. Apart from one.

  A single wastelander skidded to a halt and jerked his head in different directions. After probably considering his limited options, he turned and ran. Skye knelt, peered through her sight, and fired. A puff of red mist burst from the front of his head as the round exited, and he fell amongst the field of carrots.

  Skye let out a deep breath and realized she was surrounded by silence. Men and women looked toward the outer walls, searching for wastelanders below the darkening sky. A few casualties tried to drag themselves along the ground, but none were left standing.

  “Find ammunition from the other sections,” Phillips shouted. “Come back here and we rebuild the wall.”

  Skye looked at his blood-smeared face and saw a real leader. He shook Ryder’s hand, and they held a brief conversation. Omega needed both of them to bring about a new era. Off the back of this fight, where so many had lost their life, they could build something honest, capable and strong.

  Jake approached her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Great job today. Thanks for responding to my request. We’d have lost that part of the rampart without you.”

  Skye couldn’t force a smile. Not after today. “Do you think it’s over?”

  “I hope so, but we can’t drop our guard.”

  “I’ll take my team to sweep the perimeter.”

  Jake smiled. “You’re a legend.”

  He moved back behind the wall and knelt next to one of the casualties.

  She closed her eyes and sighed, finally believing that Sky Man was defeated.