Soul at War (7 page)

The lone trooper pulled a pin on a
ball-bomb and dropped it into the room. It rolled towards me like a
toy, stopping at the toe of my boot just as I swept it up into my
hand and lobbed it out of the window into three troopers advancing
across the kill-zone. Shots rang out behind me and the last
intruder was cut down by sustained fire from the
stairwell.

"Lieutenant!" Someone yelled just
before the world collapsed around me in a super nova and threw me
to the floor. For a moment I felt like I was underwater. My ears
were numb and all the sounds were warbly and far away. Dust hung in
a thick cloud, I was coughing and spluttering.

Then reality came rushing back in and
I realised that a tank shell had demolished the whole south side of
the building. All that was left was a gaping hole where the enemy
poured in.

Up on my feet I blasted the first
three; another two came from my left but tumbled down the rubble as
rounds tore into them from behind. I crossed the broken doorway and
found Burns being wrestled to the floor by a large trooper with a
knife.

"Help me, John!" He begged. The
shotgun cracked the trooper's skull on impact and he fell limp in a
bloody heap on the floor. "Where's Phillips?" He yelled over the
chaos.

"Outside, western wall," I shouted.
"This way!"

Clambering over the bricks and dust,
we ran out into the sunlight as the tank went up in flames, it's
sides torn open like tin by Tekoa's rocket launcher. Flaming bodies
came running out in anguish and each one was shot down.

Phillips was directing the defense to
the half-track that had turned to hit the east wall, streaks of
white gas chasing it as rockets launched to take it down. One
blasted off a track; the other missed and went wide, detonating in
the tree line. Three of Tekoa's mob swamped it, tore open the hatch
and lobbed a grenade inside. Then they ran as the top blew apart
sending shrapnel in all directions. Phillips was quick to seize the
advantage and charged forward towards the last remaining enemy
soldiers trying to storm the building, blasting from his pistol as
he rallied the others behind him.

Then as quickly as it had begun, it
ended. Smoke bellowed from the destroyed armour. Steam oozed from
the bodies of the dead and dying.

"Consolidate," said Burns as he
rounded up the dazed units. "We move now!".

*

In just under ten minutes the remains
of the unit gathered outside, Bergen’s on our backs and fresh
magazines loaded. Out of the original twenty-five only eighteen
remained. Walker and me had gone round collecting the tags of the
fallen, Wulfgar had taken as many of the weapons as he could;
others took their personal belongings to send home to
relatives.

"Troopers advance," Burns ordered and
strode ahead into the tree line heading towards the city. Tekoa
took point and jogged ahead. I was at the back of the group with
Walker and Brand who looked worryingly unnerved by the
situation.

"I don't like the idea of heading into
the lion's den," said Brand nursing the long barreled sniper's
rifle. She, like the weapon was a thing of beauty, but it was sad
to think of their purpose in life. Her brunette hair was kept short
and boyish but she had a strong womanly figure and war had taken
none of her femininity away as it had done with so many
others.

"I don't think we have much of a
choice, do we sir?" replied Walker.

"I suppose not. Now that the Midian is
out of range and the Avalon is committed elsewhere, we need to find
another way off the planet," I said.

"I suppose you must be quite used to
this, sir?" Asked Brand who took a step back and fell in line next
to me.

"What makes you say that,
Brand?”

“I heard a few things about you, sir.
Things from some of the other troopers if you don't mind me saying
so.”

“Go on.”

“Well, you were in the tri-colony wars
on Mars.”

“That's correct.”

“You led the charge on New
Bakersfield. Turned the war around for us. Sir.”

“Don't always listen to
rumors, Brand. Any history is boring without a bit of
embellishment, don't you think?” I laughed. "I
was
at the tri-colony wars on Mars
and yes, I
did
lead the charge on New Bakersfield. But the hero there was a
young private by the name of Alex Shadsworth of Manchester,
England. He actually stood on the wall between us and the colonists
and gave the war cry that rallied the handful of us who'd survived
the artillery fire.”

“What did he say?” asked
Walker rather amazed.

“I will always remember
it. He jumped up on the rubble, lifted his rifle up and shouted
'let's go fuck them up lads – the pub opens at three'.”

“You're joking, sir.” said
Brand looking slightly disappointed. “What happened to
Shadsworth?”

“After his heart warming
speech a sniper opened his head like a melon.” They laughed. “It
was a shame really. After that the unit were so angry that I had to
lead the charge or they would have left me behind. So no, it wasn't
anything to be proud of. Shadsworth deserves the
credit.”

“Did he get any?” asked
Walker.

“Yes. I had to give a
report after the war was over and you will find his name on a brass
plaque on the war memorial outside New Bakersfield. Underneath it
quotes the very speech he gave. Or at least the edited
version.”

“Alex
Shadsworth
. I'll have to remember that
name.” muttered Brand.

Looking into her eyes as we marched
through the fields, you could see that life for Karen Brand was
lived through the rifle scope and must have seemed pretty far away
until she was forced to be a part of it. Behind the tough
appearance was a soul at war with itself and I got the impression
that the only way she could stay sane was to cut herself off from
the horror, to get behind the rifle and pretend it wasn’t real. If
only it was that simple.

There was a cry from the front and
somebody went down, falling out of line in a crumpled heap. One of
Wulfgar's flanks began firing and the rest us dove for the nearest
piece of cover, Brand behind me, Walker shooting off to the
left.

"Down!" I shouted to the six or so
that had gathered near me. Bergen’s dropped to the floor and
weapons opened up around my ears. Brand crouched on her knee, scope
hunting for a target and delicate fingers working the zoom control.
On my left I saw Walker dash forward to the next tree waving on
three others. Wulfgar was further along the line and charging
forward, his huge frame hauling the great heavy machine gun that
blazed flame and brass as he went, bathing the forest in awesome
firepower. "Forward!" I yelled and ran ahead, rounds streaking past
me until I reached the next tree. Brand held back, three others
came up behind me but one fell face down as a salvo blasted him
apart. Muzzle flashes lit up in front of me, I aimed and fired at
what I thought was the nearest. Brand's distinctive report sounded
behind me, then I felt her reach my side.

"Go!" She yelled and I made for the
next line. Wulfgar was urging others to follow his lead, Walker was
pinned down by bursts of sustained fire that were tearing chunks
out of the trunk of the huge tree and another of his men went down,
pitched off his feet by a head shot.

"Smoke!" Green was running down the
line hurling tubular bombs over the tops of the trees doing an
incredible job of avoiding fire from both sides. Flash blinded us
as they detonated, then great plumes of white smoke engulfed the
forward line and those able to got up and began running towards the
north where Burns and Phillips waved them ahead.

"Let's boogey, Lieutenant," said Brand
and I began to fall back. The enemy was still firing, but without
targets they were firing blind and white-hot slugs tore through the
protective cloud in all directions. Together we ran, heads down and
fell in behind the others, Green bringing up the rear and still
hurling bombs from a satchel. Others were stabbing incendiaries
into the ground, most likely on twenty second timers.

"Shit, that's the Bergen’s gone,"
Brand said as she slung her rifle and took up her pistol. In the
dense woodland the high precision tool was useless on the
run.

"How many went down?" Asked somebody
in front of us in a panic stricken voice.

"Forget it, we'll lick wounds later,"
I shouted hoping the firm voice might inspire him to press on.
"Keep your heads down."

A few seconds later and explosions
could be heard behind us as the timers went off. I looked back just
as a tide of super heated flame exploded around our previous
position, most likely destroying both the Bergen’s and the bodies
of the dead and dying. I had no idea how many we'd lost, but that
wasn't the priority now. We were running blind and it wouldn't be
long before they closed in on us. My hopes of finding David, of
even surviving the next night were fading fast.

"We aren't going to make it," Someone
in front said.

"They're going to slaughter us!"
Another cried.

"Shut it you girls! I'll have you dead
myself before I let them kill you. Nobody's taking my two bitches
from me, you faggot slags!" It was the Sarge coming back down the
line shouting his head off to the unit. He caught me at the back
and started dividing up those around him. "On me, east on the
double or I’ll personally burn your asses back to the stone
age!"

We divided up and headed east, away
from Burns' squad to try and confuse the enemy. Phillips was
checking the map when Brand and me jogged up to the
front.

"Sir, what's the plan?" I
asked.

"The Lieutenant has broken away to
draw fire to this point here." He indicated a narrow valley deeper
inside the forest - a good tactical position that offered an ambush
option. "We're to continue round in an arc, coming back round to
hit them at the rear. Then we'll rendezvous at this
outpost."

"Then what?" Phillips gave me a look
that said it all. The last stand. "Do you know how many went
down?"

"Out of the eighteen we had this
morning, there's only thirteen now."

"Jesus," Brand muttered. Five of us
here, eight there.

By the time we'd come back round as
Phillips had planned, we'd left our pursuers behind. That only
meant they'd concentrated on Burns' unit. As we began to crest a
rise in the terrain, evening was setting in and it wouldn't be long
before we lost the light. Already the canopy was blocking most of
it out, leaving Brand to take point with the thermal imaging scope
as our eyes. I walked with Phillips as the other two troopers
brought up the rear.

"We're here."

CHAPTER 6

The valley was a wash with gold and
red and orange, cordite choked the air as it rose up to meet us and
the brutal sound of war assaulted our ears. We were on the east
side looking down and we could see the eight comrades holding back
a tide of ARC troopers who were dug in at the mouth of the valley.
Brand was on her belly and crawling into the bushes, edging up
towards the lip with her rifle in front. Phillips waved the other
two troopers either side, me further down towards the ARC
side.

"Any grenades left?" He asked. I
checked my belt and shook my head. "Only one." He passed the white
ball to me and I tore away the pin, hurling it down towards the
rear of the group. Then I threw myself down and readied the
shotgun.

The grenade detonated flinging an ARC
trooper up into the air. Brand's rifle cracked like lightning
taking off the head of the foremost soldier. My weapon jolted and
writhed under me as I emptied the stock, stopping only to reload.
Several of the enemy collapsed, limbs tearing apart by the downpour
of fresh fire. They were stunned, unable to see where the renewed
fire was coming from and began to break ranks, turning and running
back down the valley. Brand chose her targets well, picking off
anyone who didn't run in bursts of vapourised blood and flesh.
Phillips emptied his pistol, loaded a fresh magazine and grabbed my
shoulder.

"Let's give 'em the shit!" He cried
and the two of us charged down, firing from the hip. Slugs flew
past us, but the enemy was in retreat and firing blindly. I felt a
surge of adrenaline as we fell in amongst them, swinging our
weapons like clubs. Phillips had his knife out and was slashing
into anyone strong enough to hold his ground, most had already run.
I slung the shotgun across my shoulders and launched my fist into
the face of the first target delivering a crushing blow to a
pale-faced soldier who'd managed to fit a bayonet to his rifle. He
stumbled back as I drew my combat knife and lunged forwards and
down. He saw the glistening blade and side stepped out of my
strike, grabbing the knife hand and wheeling me round. Ready for
the move I slammed my knee into his chest rig and he lost balance
giving me time to find my footing just as he went down over a
corpse behind him. I followed with my full weight behind the blade
and it passed straight through into his upper torso with a jet of
blood spraying across my face.

As I rose up once more a passing Red
raised his rifle too close and I swung out my leg which crashed
into his knee cap. He went down hard but the bayonet fixed to the
end of his weapon sliced into my thigh and I screamed. Rolling away
from him I was able to draw my pistol and put two slugs into his
skull.