He grabbed the nearest radio man and picked up the transmitter.
‘Come in Base 1, Scouting Group A here, Come in Base 1,’ said Morrison, trying to keep his nerves intact. The enemy was still a mile away but closing fast. The radio crackled into life.
‘Base 1 here, Scouting Group A, what is your report?’
‘Tell the General they are here and shut the gates, all of them.’ Morrison shoved the radio back and waved his arms for the soldiers to move back. They had no cover or chance to disrupt this charge. The signal was relayed to General Corder, Tate and Kabel.
‘Shut the gates,’ said General Corder and the message was hastily relayed to all the gates via one of the soldiers who carried another radio backpack. Each gate had two of these specialists assigned to them.
Kabel and Kron took up their positions with the rearguard and waited. Outside the gates, General Corder climbed into the tank where he could keep communications open to the ships and the other gates and Tate stood next to the troops in the first line of defence. The first thing they saw were the troops falling back, leapfrogging each other, one group providing covering fire and the other group running back. Lieutenant Morrison was shouting the orders. The noise was deafening and the defenders waited nervously. The soldiers made it back to the partial safety of the armed ranks lined up in front of the South Gate.
‘Morrison, how many,’ Tate asked as the US Marine made a beeline towards him. Tate drew his sword and pulled his blaster from his holster.
‘Too many,’ said Morrison, though his face was resolute.
The Pod burst out of the large tunnel.
‘Oh my God,’ said Gemma, looking through the barricades. There were thousands of them, their rage bouncing of the walls. Kabel’s throat constricted as he held his panic in check.
Tate waited for Morrison’s troops to pull behind his now ready and waiting trio of ranks and then he lifted a loudhailer to his mouth as the noise drowned out his normal voice.
‘Wait for it, wait for it.’ The mass of creatures was only two hundred yards away and the professional soldiers from the United States, United Kingdom and China felt their hearts pump with the fear they felt. Mouths dry but hands steady.
One hundred and fifty yards.
‘Front rank, fire.’ The shots rang out and the front row of the attackers jerked as if manipulated by a puppeteer as the shots crashed into them.
‘Second rank, fire.’ The troops kneeling fired and the puppeteer continued as arms and legs jerked with the smash of the bullets. The Pod surge didn’t even break stride. Thousands followed those that fell.
‘Third rank, fire.’ As the next rain of bullets slammed into the Pod there was a slight pause in the attack.
Good. We can stop them, thought Tate and then as the Pod wavered he saw the pressure of those entering the main tunnel push the momentum forward.
No! How can they take such losses? Tate was at a loss as he activated his seckle?
‘Fire at will,’ he shouted and then flung away his loudhailer as the Pod launched their bodies at the troops. Vicious toe-to-toe fighting took over. Tate ducked under a fist the size of a football and his hands moved fast as he cut the beast open and delivered the killing blow. There was no time to rest as another creature swiped at him, bouncing off his force-field and he used his seckle defensively. Another blow and then another. He felt his force-field under threat so he attacked and as his seckle and sword found the soft flesh of the creatures in front of him he lost himself in the violence of the moment.
General Corder was directing the tank’s firepower as fast as his men could load as the first line of defence bravely pushed back the first wave, clubbing with their guns and firing when there was space to do so. Morrison was beside Tate, fighting hard but even his size was dwarfed by these brutish creatures.
‘They are not going to last long,’ said Kabel to Belina, surveying the battle from his vantage point above the gate. He had left Gemma with Kron in charge of the fourth line of defence, if the outer and inner gates didn’t hold. The troops on the ramparts were shooting and throwing anything they could at the mass of bodies in front of them. It was making little difference.
‘Sir,’ said a strained voice behind him and when he turned he recognised one of the Southgates.
‘Yes, what is it lad?’ asked Kabel but he could see the answer in the young boy’s eyes.
‘Lords Southgate and Tyther have asked me to convey to you that they don’t think they can hold their gates.’
Kabel felt the bottom of his stomach churn with fear. Below him he saw a near manic Tate fighting for survival and the buckling line of their initial defence. He had to act quickly to bring the survivors back within the gates. Before he answered the breathless runner he turned to Belina.
‘Tell Kron to open the small gate and try to get as many of our troops back within the main gate without compromising our defence.’ Belina took in the request and then ran down the steps to inform Kron.
He turned back to face the wide-eyed young runner. ‘Why did they send you and not send the message via the radio packs?’
‘They are all dead sir, radios smashed.’ The teenager wore a terrified look on his face. Kabel, made up his mind.
‘Right, here is what you need to pass on to Lords’ Tyther and Southgate and also check with Lady Blackstone as well,’ said Kabel and then proceeded to give the young man the necessary orders. The boy’s eyes widened with shock at the orders but bravely saluted the Lord Chancellor and ran off to complete his duty.
Down below the survivors were funnelling through the open door under the sustained supporting cover from those on the ramparts and barricades. Kabel raced down the steps to join the force at the gate.
They found an exhausted Tate and an injured General Corder, the latter with an imperfect sling holding a clearly broken left arm he had incurred when exiting the tank that had used up all its charge.
‘General, you need to get that seen to,’ said Belina, noting the pain on the soldiers face. Additionally Lieutenant Morrison was helping him support an injured leg.
‘I am okay, Belina, I am going nowhere,’ was the defiant response of the proud soldier.
Kabel wasn’t listening, his attention was on the gates. They had managed to pull most of the troops back behind the outer gate and the Inner Defensive Wall but now the Pod were climbing up the barricades, irrespective of the weaponry, providing a horrific killing field. He looked through an inspection hatch and saw that they had hardly scratched the forces against them.
‘Brace the gates,’ he shouted to a team of fifty men who held wooden pikes that could be pressed against the gate to provided more stability. The soldiers efficiently went about their task.
Tate joined him, still gasping for air. Kabel noticed the tear in his uniform on his chest and the blood seeping from a cut. If Tate’s force-field was failing then they would be hard pressed to keep the Pod out.
‘You injured?’
‘Just a scratch.’
‘I have sent a runner to the other gates to consider Plan B at a set time,’ said Kabel, as he dodged the falling body of a Malacca soldier, thrown from the rampart. He looked up and saw desperate fighting as the Pod began to swarm over the enormous barricade.
‘Good thinking,’ said Tate, as he saw Belina walk back to stand near him after making General Corder go back to the central area to have his wounds seen to. The old soldier had carried on arguing but even Kron had been against him and loss of blood made him accept the inevitable.
Kabel couldn’t help but notice that Tate and Belina seem to radiate off each other. He could not ignore the strength of feeling which due to his magics he could feel. Maybe he was wrong and Belina and Tate may be the recipe to prevent the infighting, which had happened for too many years between the two clans. Other thoughts for this union were pushed to the side when the gates buckled under the weight of the rage driven opponents.
He looked up following Tate’s gaze; the ramparts were al
l but lost. The hundreds of soldiers that had looked so intimidating a mere fifteen minutes ago had either been slain or were retreating. If they didn’t act quickly and fall back, there would be no inner defence. The Outer Perimeter Barrier was gone.
The gates strained inwards from the pressure of the Pod attackers, which in turn was pushed back by the wooden and steel supports held by perspiring soldiers fighting for their lives but the pressure of bodies from the outside was immense. The gates buckled one last time and then burst open.
‘Fall back behind the Inner Perimeter Barrier and Inner Defensive Wall now,’ shouted Tate and Kabel together. Those not fighting ran back. From the thousands of troops that manned the first two defences only a third survived. The shield was switched off for a short period of time and the bedraggled defenders ran behind both the zinithium barrier and the Inner Defensive Wall where the formidable columns of fierce and determined soldiers waited. Kron and Morrison had taken up their positions to command them with Kabel, Tate and Belina joining Gemma with the skirmishers. The zinithium powered barrier was switched back on and the faint glimmering barrier stood before them. They waited with dread in their hearts.
The other gates were experiencing a similar situation. At the North Gate, Bailey wiped away the sweat trickling down his face. In his hands he held firmly his favoured photon shotgun, his grip rocking back and forth as his adrenalin built up in anticipation of the next phase of the fight. Beside him were the equally determined Hechkle and Bronstorm, who had fought gallantly in front and, on top of and behind the North Gate and ramparts. They knew Eben Southgate was dead, and that on the West Gate Quinlan Tyther was seriously injured, the latter bravely saving his son from two Pod. Losing two senior Lords had shaken the defenders and it looked like the two gates would be lost.
Then the Blackstone troops arrived, thousands of them. Quinlan had sent a runner to Safah, not expecting any help as the Blackstones were holding the East Gate near their enclave, with the Tyther clan relocated to the West. He had not reckoned on that fact that Safah had the blood of the Blackstones coursing through her veins and without hesitation split her forces. Retaining half her force on the East Gate under the command of her most senior officer, she brought ten thousand troops across to the West and North Gates. When she arrived she had sent a guard to protect Lord Tyther and launched counter attacks first on the West Gate and then when the Pod were pushed back, on the North Gate. Without her command they would have been lost.
Safah joined Hechkle, Bronstorm and Bailey accompanied by fifty tough and capable soldiers and a young runner called Bertrand.
‘Thanks you, Lady Blackstone,’ said Hechkle, bowing to the previous haughty and disapproving royal. Now, seemingly fired up by the plight of the Aeria Cavern, her Blackstone instincts for command had overridden her political games. She stood proudly with a battle-axe in her hand and surrounded by a throbbing force-field like a present day Boadicea. Automatically all the soldiers of the clans flocked to her banner and regal authority. A striking horn made from a weinder beast tusk hung from her belt. It had many marks upon it from heavy use.
Safah took in the state of the North Gate; she knew the East Gate was at the moment the most secure as the Pod had thrown their might at the other three gates. At that moment a breathless Southgate runner ran to her and gave her a written message. She read hastily, biting her lip at the contents before deciding on the next course of action. The Southgate runner was exhausted so she called upon one of her men.
‘Bertrand, go to the West and East Gates and when they hear my horn they are to fall back to the Inner Defence Wall as one. No delay. Do you understand?’ Bertrand saluted and ran to pass on the command.
‘Lady Blackstone, are we falling back?’ asked Bronstorm, who had led the small contingent of Fathom soldiers courageously.
‘The South Gate is nearly fallen and if we are to provide any chance for our people we need to fall back together,’ said Safah, wishing she had Jaida beside her. The North Gate buckled under the pressure from outside and the Pod were overpowering those on the ramparts.
Safah carried on directing the forces to fight for every inch of ground and when an exhausted Bertrand ran back to her, breathing hard and saluting her, and informed her the East and West Gates were ready, she didn’t hesitate and swung her horn from her hips to her pursed lips and blew a loud, deep blow. The sound echoed around the Aeria Cavern, as it bounced off the ceilings and walls. The effect was immediate, with no panic the gates were left and the soldiers hastily retreated behind the deactivated Inner Perimeter Barrier and Inner Defence Wall. The forces previously holding the gates, many injured and maimed, were ordered to fall back to the last line of defence where the people of the Aeria Cavern huddled fearfully. Their retreat was met by a howl of triumph from the Pod and the gates were ripped apart and even Safah had to draw in her breath when the hordes burst through.
How can they defeat such a driven enemy?
As the Pod approached the columns of men and women, the Inner Perimeter Barrier was switched on. The Pod threw their bodies at the barrier and initially the force-field pushed them back, enraging them in the process. Hundreds of bodies charged the shield, again and again, only to be rebuffed.
Bailey licked his lips, dry with fear, comforted that he had the columns of soldiers beside him, commanded by senior officers including Hechkle and Bronstorm.
Tell me, Bailey, why am I here? Next time someone says, ‘Let’s go millions of light years away from home and family to another planet with unknown dangers,’ just say no…he thought.
The shield faltered under the unrelenting assault, flickering and spluttering with the effort to stay active. Then it went out and even the Pod were initially surprised and their attack halted briefly before continuing with their advance, swarming over the inadequate Inner Defence Wall.
The wall did its job, providing a break in the momentum of the Pod and reduced the numbers in the front ranks whilst they waited for their chance to scale the obstacle in front of them. Safah knew that this was the time for attack. Lifting her horn to her lips she blew three short, sharp blows and the columns began marching.
They were impressive, just like Napoleon’s French grenadiers; they marched directly into the enemy hordes, punching great holes in the lines of their attackers. Many of the soldiers in the front row were instantly killed as the Pod pulled them away, ripping off arms and heads in glee, but behind them others filled the holes and the motto was “don’t stop going forward”.
Safah continued her surveillance behind the columns as the five tightly wedged columns drove the bulk of the attackers back to the Inner Defence Wall. Those that made it through the gaps were caught by a line of skirmishers held back for such a job. Bailey was one of them. They mercilessly gunned or struck down any Pod that made it through.
Behind the South Gate, Tate stood with Kabel in the skirmishing line accomplishing the same. Side by side they gave the troops the morale to keep fighting. Tate swinging his sword with great effect made a fearful sight, Kabel holding a blaster and a seckle striking down any enemy near him. Both supported by Belina and Kron, not losing an inch of ground. A great roar went up as they began to back the Pod back to the ruined Inner Defence Wall. The Pod lay two or three deep in places, they had taken enormous losses, yet still they streamed through the outer gate.
‘How many of these creatures are there?’ Kabel gasped.
‘We have never seen the like before,’ said Tate, slicing through the leg of a Pod with his sword, before using his shield to throw another back.
‘I hope Zebulon is right that stopping Myolon is the secret to peace,’ said Kabel, shooting a Pod as he closed down on Gemma, who grimly smiled a quick thank you before defending another attack.
‘If he is not I am not sure how long we can last,’ replied Tate.
‘Look,’ said Kabel. They both watched as the front of the columns that had made great inroads on the Pod began to be torn apart by sheer numbers and hatred. The column
s began to stop as fear began to take a grip.
‘Call them back, now or they will be annihilated,’ said Tate to Kron, who was covered in blood, not his, but still covered. Kron pulled out a similar horn to that Safah had but without the crest and gold flecks upon it. He placed the horn to his lips and blew one long blow and at the same time two more long blows sounded, clearly heard from two of the other gates.
Tate and Kabel shared a look. The gate, barrier and wall had fallen and their fourth line of defence had been swept aside in quick measure.
The columns stopped and then began their organised retreat. The soldiers on the roofs gave covering fire as the remnants of the defenders steadily moved back to the central hub and last defence of the Aeria Cavern.
On the North Gate, Safah was overseeing a similar retreat and her messages to the East and West Gates meant that they were now retreating in some sense of order. It was at this time that Safah showed her lineage greatness. The political and haughty woman was gone… replaced by a leader and general. All the clans looked up to her as she masterminded one of the greatest retreats in Zein history. Without her intelligence and strategy many more thousands would have perished. Beside her strode the giants of the ‘Battle of the North Gate’, the herculean Hechkle, the quicksilver Bronstorm and the never-say-die alien called Bailey. All figures would be remembered in the years to come.
The preconceived plan for the soldiers on the rooftops to provide cover worked. The defenders were well armed and all had an escape plan to fall back across the rooftops if they feared their position would be taken or when the last of the survivors have passed their position. By doing this they gave an element of protection to those on the ground and in flanking the retreating masses, protected them from the Pod hordes. The survivors made their way to the daunting and impressive last line of defence around the Royal Council and Transportation buildings. There they found the rest of the population, crammed into every available nook and cranny, scared, fearful, yet defiant. The soldiers on the rooftops began to retreat in a well-rehearsed orderly manner once the bulk of their colleagues had safely passed them, until they settled into the ring of steel around the remaining population created by their colleagues.
Zein: The Homecoming Page 20