by Doug Burbey
Without looking up, staring at the body of his sergeant major, the artillery colonel answered as loud as he could in a cracking voice. "I understand the orders clearly now. But what happens if the horde breaks out and heads this way?"
"Then Colonel Gris will disperse his battlemages across the line to help your soldiers do as much damage as they can. I'll fight by your side to the end sir, then we will all die here today. Together."
Colonel Crowley nodded slightly, then picked up his helmet and waved over his fire control officer.
"Sanford! Get your ass over here. You heard the SSAU. DPICM then FASCAM."
"Sir…" The fire control officer started to rebut but was immediately cut off by Colonel Crowley, "I said DPICM then FASCAM damn it! Do it now before the fucking horde forms. Every damn round we have."
"Yes, sir!" The officer ran back to his vehicle and grabbed the radio relaying the orders.
Declan looked straight at the colonel's face trying to somehow to project gratitude. "Thank you, Colonel Crowley. You made the right decision."
"Fuck you, Kenner, you are going to burn in the deepest pits of hell for your sins when God gets ahold of you." He glared at Declan, hate in his eyes.
"Yes… I get that, sir. Believe me, I do." Declan's eyes seemed to darken as he pushed back the primal rage tugging at his mind. "But when I get to hell the fucking demons will be more worried about me settling the score there than I'll be about God's opinion."
Conversation became impossible as the line of howitzers began to roar, sending round after round of impersonal death into the town. Repeatedly the artillery guns fired. This little city in Ohio had been sentenced to death. First by the demons and now by Lieutenant Colonel Declan Kenner.
Declan watched the gun crews working like machines feeding their howitzers as they poured shells into the city. Even from this distance, the primary and secondary explosions could be heard over the thundering of the guns firing from the side of the highway. He intentionally avoided looking directly towards the city filled with people that he had just discounted the lives of.
The sound of a truck pulling up next to him diverted his attention away from watching the howitzers. He turned to see a dented and dirty black Ford F150 pickup stop about ten feet from him and turn off its engine. Across the top of the truck's windshield 'Zombie Hunter' was stenciled. An almost six-foot-tall woman with close-cropped brunette hair, wearing jeans, well-worn hiking boots and an outdated army field coat with a name tag sewn on it that said 'Urbanek' exited the truck holding a six pack of beer that she placed on the hood of the truck.
"What the hell, Tara? This isn't a picnic." Declan couldn't help but shake his head at the oddity of the scene as he started walking toward the waiting pick-up warrior company's unofficial leader. Tara and her guys had been volunteers with Declan and Shane for several weeks now. Filling in as extra security, guards, snipers, scouts, and general augmenters to the severely depleted regular Army forces as needed. Most of them were prior-service military personnel, emergency services workers, police and gang bangers, hunters and outdoorsmen, and a few just total screwballs. Tara fit into the total screwball, as well as the natural leader, category. But all the pick-up warriors had one thing in common. They had each already lost nearly everyone they loved to the demons and would do whatever it took to get retribution. The pick-up warriors were a ragtag lot, but they fought with a fire of hate so deep that their own lives meant almost nothing to them anymore so long as they killed demons as they died.
Tara pulled a beer can off the plastic ring and tossed one to Declan. "Where do ya want us, boss?"
Declan caught the beer then held it away from his body as he pulled the tab anticipating the foam spray. Drinking nearly half the beer in a series of long swallows he turned to Tara and pointed his thumb over his back towards the line of howitzers. "Spread out behind the gun line's ammo carriers. Just hold there, in stand-by mode. For obvious reasons don't get in front of them. "
Tara looked at the howitzers then across the open land towards the exploding city. "Well no shit, Sherlock. That would be no bueno. But it's not a good place to fight hell from." She responded sarcastically but continued to stare at the city being shelled mercilessly. "Damn, you must be a University of Michigan fan because you are really beating the shit out of Ohio here, DK."
Tara may actually be more fucked up than me.
Declan snorted then said, "I need you to have your guys wait to be called forward in case the battlemages need you to cover them."
Declan pushed his radio's transmit button, "Shane, Tara and her guys are here. You want them centered on your teams now?"
Shane's voice came over the small speaker on the radio as Tara sipped on her beer and listed in on the conversation while leaning against her truck. "Yeah, better send them now. We have incoming."
This got Declan's attention as he dropped his half-empty beer onto the road and pointed towards Tara and motioned for her to 'mount-up' by circling one finger over his head then pointing down the road towards the battle mage positions. Tara relayed the signal to the waiting pickup trucks full of armed civilians behind her, then jumped into her truck and began to drive down the road towards the mage positions.
"What do we have, Shane?" Declan keyed his radio headset now to keep his hands free then lifted his binoculars to survey the area between the highway and the burning city. "I don't see a horde forming."
"Look up genius." Shane's voice came over the radio with an odd flat calmness that now seemed to take over his tone whenever he went into combat.
Declan angled his binoculars upward and noticed the staggered line of a dozen or more flying blobs, about a hundred meters above the ground, flying away from the city towards their position.
Shit. Drones. It's game on now. If we got demon drones checking us out, then there is at least a high functioning ring five demons controlling them somewhere.
Declan began to make out more details of the drones as they approached. The demon's flying scouts were the size of a small dog with the general appearance of a great big grey maggot with wings. A row of protruding black eyes, starting at its small jagged mouth, ran all the way to its blunted tail. He knew from experience, and SSAU battlefield reports, that these drones were used as advance scouts for demon sub horde leaders. The demon leaders were apparently able to use some form of empathic link to see with the drone's eyes and provide direction to the otherwise largely unintelligent larva.
Declan began to move towards the artillery command group clustered around Colonel Crowley's vehicle as he radioed instructions to Shane and the pick-up warriors on the SSAU radio channel, "All right, Shane, your team has the drones first, of course. Tara, get your teams to block for the mages. The artillerymen have to keep pounding the city, so they can't fight as dismounts till they're out of rounds for their big guns. Stay on the mages, close."
Shane responded first, "Yeah, yeah, the drones I'm not worried about. They'll die easy. Whatever they're in front of is what concerns me. If there's a demon left alive that is big enough to be running a fleet of drones, then there's gotta be at least a chunk of the horde still trying to push out of the city."
"Now don't you worry yourself young Wizardman," Tara's voice came over the radio next. "My guys and gals, will keep your fireball slinging, elf book reading, Girl Scouts all safe-like if the big nasties get too close." Her artificially bright voice cut like paper cuts on the tongue, sweet and sharp.
"Oh, thanks, Tara. I feel so much fucking better now that a bunch of semi-drunk rednecks in flip-flops and trucker caps got my back." Shane responded to Tara's jibe, but Declan could hear that a touch of humor had crept into his voice.
"You know it, Gandalf. You're welcome." Tara answered. "DK, you need me to send you a squad to cover you?"
"No. I'm good Tara. I'll be with the artillery commander." Declan said into the radio as he walked up to the grouping of the artillery regiment's staff directing the fire missions from the small cluster of military headquart
ers vehicles. They had stopped talking and were now glaring at Declan with pure hatred shown clearly on their faces.
Declan held his carbine with his finger on the trigger as he spoke to the commander. "Colonel, some of the horde is making it out and coming our way."
"What? We need to halt the fire missions and move out toward Detroit now. This city is lost and we've done all we can. We can't fight them up close! If we can link up with 1st and 7th Infantry divisions we can combine our firepower with theirs and continue the fight from there." The Colonel was nearly panicked in his response.
While stroking his weapon's trigger lightly, Declan's mind barely even registered his robotic-like response. "No Colonel, you will fire till you are out of munitions, then you will all fight as infantry till it's over. Either they all die today, or we do."
Declan didn't listen for a response from the colonel as he climbed onto the roof of one of the headquarters unit's truck. He looked down the line of howitzers spotting where the pick-up troops were spreading out and centering on the battlemage positions.
"Tara, you make sure you're ready when the mages cook off. They'll get spotted instantly and whatever the demons got left will center on their positions." Declan radioed to the pick-up commander.
"I got it, DK. We're already set in positions. We'll protect the fragile wizards and kill whatever offends their delicate sensibilities before they get eaten or something." Tara responded.
Watching the approaching drones, now close enough to bee see without the binoculars, Declan issued the order. "OK, Shane. Blind them." And watched as a series of fireballs, circles of magical plasma rings and even a lightning bolt raced through the air from the battle mage positions and began to knock the drones out of the sky rapidly.
Why are the battlemage attack skills all so different?
Declan wondered to himself, as he always did when he watched mages fight. Every one of them seemed to use magics differently.
"Colonel Crowley! The forward observer team is now reporting movement coming out of the city towards us." One of the artillery staff officers yelled behind Declan who turned towards the shout.
Declan jumped off the truck's hood and walked towards the officer now talking to the artillery colonel. "What did they see exactly?" he asked the young staff captain.
The staffer looked back and forth between Declan and his own colonel apparently trying to decide who should be reporting to. He turned and faced Declan. "Sir, they said there are a few hundred giant fucking spider-like things racing out of the city in our direction."
"Heads up people. We got Skitters incoming. Engage at will." Declan barked into his radio as he started running towards the nearest group of pick-up warriors, now mixed with the soldiers not assigned to howitzer crews, who were quickly emplacing the belt-fed machine guns. Skitters were a dark red spider-like creature, around two or three-foot-tall, but with only six legs, that made a clattering noise when it ran. It had a fanged mouth where its stomach should be, that it used to rip apart flesh and bone after it penned its prey onto the ground. They weren't armored and simple enough to deal with individually. Except they often arrived in swarms of thousands.
"Gunners, long bursts about two feet above the ground. Sweep your weapons side to side. These things will come in fast and clustered! You can take them down. They are not armored. But they will swarm us. You can live through it you do not fucking panic!" Declan bellowed in his best 'command voice' as he relayed commands to the gun crews then tapped his radio mike.
"Shane, let the pick-ups and grunts take the skitters. Find the big demons and fuck them up."
"The complexity of your plans always astounds me, Kenner. Kill big demons before I'm eaten by a mutant spider. Got it. Crap, gotta go to work now."
Declan didn't respond as the machine gun positions all began to fire and he could feel the magics flowing through the air around him as the battle mages all sought out demons in the middle of the swarm of skitters that was now about 500 meters away from them and closing the distance fast.
So fast… But maybe, just maybe if the gun crews don't panic…
~~~
Declan walked down road among the remains of the artillery regiments position. The gun crews didn't panic. They died with honor and held the ground against the weakened remains of the Bowling Green horde.
Declan spit out the remains of a skitter's guts that had gotten sprayed over his face and now dripped into his mouth.
Hell, looks like only fifty percent of our folks are now dead. A good day. Now the rest of these guys can all pack up and go die in Michigan.
Declan's radio crackled with Shane's voice. "Kenner, come over to my position."
"Rodger, on my way to you. Pass the word to get ready to move out." Declan's body had eaten through all its energy in some weird way during the fight. Whatever it was made him seem to think and move, faster when he's fought left him feeling totally physically drained. The short walk to Shane's position left him so exhausted he immediately sat on the highway railing when he got there.
"You look like shit Kenner," Shane said as soon as Declan lifted his head.
Declan sighed "Yeah long day. Burned out. What do you want, we gotta roll north?"
"Yeah, I know why you're burned out. Drink this." Shane said as he pushed a canteen into Declan's hand. "Don't worry its fresh, Kenner. All of it. Fast. You need it."
Declan knew that the canteen was filled with demon blood. His body sent perverse pulses of desire for him to do exactly what Shane told him to do. With an internal sigh, he obeyed. The physical revulsion was tempered by his body's almost carnal need to seemly absorb the very soul of a demon though its blood. He felt a warming pleasure of restored energy and power surge back through him. He felt like he could continue fighting for hours now but his mind still screamed for more blood. Declan worked to push those thoughts back and refocus on Shane.
"So, what did you want, Shane?" Declan stood up trying to keep his face stoic and not betray to Shane the pleasure he felt running through his body.
Shane just pointed about twenty feet away and Declan looked in the direction he indicated and watched as a mangled, faceless body in jeans, worn hiking boots, and an old outdated army field coat was loaded into the back of a pickup truck.
"I kinda liked Tara. She kicked ass." Shane looked away and began to pick up his rucksack as Declan heard him mumble. "There's no point to this. Everyone is dead already."
Chapter 15
Ypsilanti – October 25th, 2015, I-94
Lieutenant Colonel Kenner waited patiently with a small group of assembled officers as the horribly understrength armored brigade's commander parked his 70-ton M1A2 Abrams main battle tank. They had gathered along the highway to try to block the remains of the approaching Detroit horde and a potential new horde emergence. The refugees were headed west towards Chicago where the National Guard tried to establish a hasty defense of the city.
Colonel Reynolds removed his CVC helmet and threw it onto the floor of his track as he yelled at the battalion maintenance technician standing next to Declan.
"What the hell is up with my ride? Misha, get with Specialist Saults and figure out why the fuck we keep stalling when we pivot steer." Colonel Reynolds pulled himself up to sitting on edge of the turret hatch on his tank waiting for the warrant officer's response.
"Yes sir, your driver already radioed ahead that he could feel the power pack stuttering and hesitating. But to be honest sir we're down to duct tape and baling wire to get her to hold together any longer." Chief Warrant Officer Misha Burnett looked at the colonel's tank and frowned.
"Well, Chief, at least we're on flat ground right now. So, find out if anybody is left alive from your maintenance team and see if you can figure out what's going on. I don't think we got much time and we need to do this right now."
"Yes, sir, I'll grab what I can." Chief Burnett turned and jogged off in the direction of the assorted military administrative vehicles parked in a group alongside the highway.
Colonel Reynolds climbed down from his tank and approached the group. "Well, at least everything I got left made it to the Assembly area."
Declan glanced around counting to himself and noticed Colonel Reynolds only had fourteen remaining tanks from this battalions original forty-four.
"Yeah, I can count too, Kenner. I went from a full brigade to a battalion, and now down to a company level command. Even the fourteen tracks I got left will lucky to be able to shoot and move in the next thirty minutes. Hell, we'll have to give up on radio communications pretty soon and resort to doing hand and arm signals off the damn turrets. But, we're here. So, there's that at least."
"Sir!" Reynolds looked over at his Brigade operations officer, and now his second in command, walking towards his track and called out to him.
"What's up Esper? How's your ride doing? I need every tank I got and quick by the looks of it." John Reynolds looked over his right shoulder and glanced down the I-95 highway towards what was once the city of Detroit.
Without hesitation, Major Eric Esper answered. "I'm mobile and have about fifty percent of our round count left but I'm short a loader. But gauging from the reports I've been able to get from the rest of the crews, I think this is it for Charlie 2, and Bravo 7. I don't think either of those tracks are going to make it back into the fight. Possibly as static firing platforms for their machine guns, but that's about it. Charlie 2's turret race ring is frozen, and Bravo 7's power pack fuel injection system caught fire."
Reynolds nodded in acknowledgment to his operations officer while still looking east towards Detroit and the direction of the approaching horde. "You know, Esper, it's weird, you would figure that after all of the devastation in Detroit there be more fire and smoke."
