by Gord Rollo
“Good stuff. Get on the line then; let’s see what you can do.”
Dropping to the ground where they found an opening, Tyrone and Tommy hurried to get their M-60 set up and loaded. Too close for comfort, the first divisions of the Scarlet Witch’s Army had marched far enough down into the valley to be in firing range but none of the Marines in the Lost Patrol had fired a shot yet. They were waiting for Sgt. Brody to give the command and even if the enemy crawled right up onto their laps, they were so well trained and fearless that none of them would fire until they were told to do so. Tyrone felt proud to be a part of a well-oiled unit such as this. These Marines were battle tested and the best that Uncle Sam could train. If the witch was about to overrun them and steal all their souls, he couldn’t think of a better bunch of men to go down fighting beside.
Staff Sargent Brody let the witch’s stone-faced army march another twenty paces forward, then held up his hand and shouted down the line, “I ain’t sharing my lunch with any of these bastards so no fucking prisoners today, got it? Aim for their heads and give ’em hell, men. Fire at will.”
One second there was silence on the line; the next, total chaos. The full platoon pulled their triggers and the legendary fury of the U.S. Marine Corps was unleashed in the blink of an eye. Even though they were on full auto and had plenty of ammunition, no cartridges were wasted; every man trained to take careful aim and fire in controlled three to five round bursts. The advancing army was stopped in their tracks, blank expressionless faces exploding into clouds of red mist, the armor piercing rounds punching into their foreheads the diameter of a quarter but exiting out the back of their skulls through a hole the size of a clenched fist. A hundred of the soulless men were dropped in the first thirty seconds, another hundred following soon after, the other mindless soldiers trampling over their fallen brethren still trying to push their ranks forward.
The enemy began to fire back, of course, but their older less powerful weapons didn’t have the range that the M-60 had, their bullets falling far short of their intended targets. Their only option was to keep moving forward, playing right into the Lost Patrol’s highly skilled hands. Row by row, the Army of the Dead were dropped to the grass, the battle quickly turning into a one-sided bloodbath; well over half of the witch’s massive army already out of action.
The Scarlett Witch wasn’t about to let victory slip from her fingers that easily though, riding her grotesque white gargoyle into the heat of the action, swooping down on the Marines while their attention was focused on the ground forces in front of them. The stone beast nose-dived from on high, crushing two of the Lost Patrol platoon beneath its massive clawed feet, pounding their decaying bodies into the soft earth and leaping back into the air before anyone could react. By the time the nearby Marines turned their guns skyward, their rounds deflected harmlessly off the marble underbelly of the monster as the witch banked away and flew out of range. She kept returning though; thirsty for blood, content to take the Lost Patrol out one Marine at a time if she had to. In the next ten minutes three more of the legendary soldiers fell beneath the winged nightmare’s talons, including the man wielding the 3.5 inch rocket launcher. The tall Marine had tried to line his sights up with the approaching beast but before he could get his shot off the monster had him in its snarling mouth, dragging the screaming soldier high into the air and eventually dropping him on the far side of the compound out of the rest of the platoon’s sight. Tyrone winced when he heard the THUMP of the poor man’s body hitting the ground.
The Marines were forced to constantly keep one eye on the sky after that, dividing their attention enough that the Army of the Dead started to make some headway down into the flat area of the valley. Their numbers were drastically reduced but probably a hundred of them made it down into the Marine’s basecamp and took cover behind some of the wooden outbuildings and supply tents. Their defensive position now compromised, Sgt. Brody decided to take the fight to the enemy rather than waiting for them to pick his men off from behind concealed firing locations.
“Forward, men,” he shouted along the line. “Stay in groups of three if you can. Kill anything that moves.”
The remaining members of the Lost Patrol jumped to their feet without hesitation, not one of them questioning their leader and showing no fear in their eyes as they slung their heavy weapons onto their shoulders and ran off in different directions. Bullets and screams echoed from every direction, the battle man to man now, the Marines still outnumbered but having the advantage of more powerful weapons and better training at this kind of in-close combat. Tyrone and his brother weren’t quite sure which way to go and were soon left behind kneeling alone in the middle of the yard. It was so loud right now that speaking was virtually impossible. Fortunately, the twins had another way to communicate with one another.
Which way you wanna go? Tommy asked. I don’t wanna leave Henrik and Huong but we sure as shit can’t stay here.
I know, Tyrone thought back. We gotta take out the witch. The platoon can deal with the soldiers, but that bitch and her flying monster are destroying us.
How the hell do you plan on doing that?
We gotta get back that rocket launcher. The Marine’s body dropped somewhere behind that big tent over there. The 3.5 has to be lying around there somewhere too. That thing will blast an armored tank into next week so it can sure as shit knock a damn gargoyle on its ass. It’s our only chance to take her out.
Okay, go, go, go... I got your back.
Decision made, the two brothers jumped to their feet and started to run. They moved in a controlled stagger, one man running forward while the other laid down a line of cover fire. Once he made it to a sheltered spot, they switched roles and the forward man fired his weapon to allow the other to catch up. They took out seven enemy soldiers before making it to their destination, the large canvas tent. Slipping inside, it was obviously some sort of a mess hall for the Lost Patrol, a series of long wooden tables laid out end to end and surrounded by folding chairs. Thankfully the tent was empty and Tyrone hurried across to the far side of the room to peak out the clear plastic window sewn into the canvas wall. The Army of the Dead were everywhere outside but their numbers were thinning, the organized three men Marine fighting units were cutting them down by the dozen, forcing them to break ranks and run crazy all over the place. If Tommy and he could take out the Witch, victory was pretty much assured.
It only took Tyrone a moment to find what he was looking for. Thirty feet out from the far left corner of the tent, the crushed and broken body of the Marine who’d been dropped out of the sky by the witch’s gargoyle was lying half in and half out of an old rusty steel wheelbarrow. His feet and legs were still inside the bucket, boots up, but his head and torso were twisted around backwards and driven face down into the muddy lawn. Lying five feet away from the lifeless man, Tyrone could see the business end of the green 3.5 inch cylindrical shaft of the M-20 Rocket Launcher, the rest of which was presumably hidden in the long grass.
“There it is, Tommy. What do you think?”
“Nothing to be done except running for it. I’ll cover you. Haul it back here and we can figure out how to shoot the damn thing.”
“Nothing too it. Lift it to your shoulder and find your target through the sight on top. Fires just like a rifle.”
“How does it load?”
“From the rear. One man usually loads the missile from behind while the other gets ready to fire. A few wires need hooked into a battery for it to fire but it should already be locked and loaded though. Just make sure you don’t stand behind me when I pull the trigger. You think the M-60 has a kick, that mother will burn your face off.”
“We’ve only got one missile. Maybe I should be the one to take the shot. You know I’m better than you.”
“In your dreams,” Tyrone said with a grin. “Just shut the fuck up and cover my ass, okay?”
“Always, bro.”
Tyrone waited until the lawn was relatively clear and then spri
nted for the fallen Marine’s body. He slid to the ground near the rusty wheelbarrow, staying low until Tommy took out two more stone-faced soldiers – neither of which even had a rifle left to defend themselves with but were coming after Tyrone with the detached blades of their bayonets. The marine stood up just as a third bayonet wielding madman ran past, and Tyrone instinctively ducked under the soulless man’s clumsy strike, drew his ka-bar knife from his waist and cut a smile deep into the soldier’s throat all in one smooth motion. The man fell to the ground beside his fallen friends but almost immediately began to climb to his feet again, blood spraying from his wound but hardly slowing him down at all. Tommy’s M-60 barked again though, and the bleeding soldier’s head disintegrated off his shoulders, shutting him down for good.
Wasting no time, Tyrone made a dash for the rocket launcher but just as the weapon was practically in his hands a blinding pain shot through his head, forcing him to his knees. It was a pain he knew all too well, and turned his eyes skyward just in time to see the Scarlet Witch dropping down nearly to ground level, her marble gargoyle’s claws only a dozen feet above his throbbing head. The witch had him in her sharpened psychic fingers again, igniting the pain sensors deep within his brain and there was nothing he could do to break free.
“Forget about me did you, soldier boy?” the witch asked; laughing as Tyrone collapsed to the ground in agony. “I sure haven’t forgotten about you.”
Tyrone struggled to get to his feet but she happily sunk her steely knives in deeper, driving the Marine to his belly in the bloodstained grass. His eyes began to glaze over and everything was starting to go dim. Tyrone couldn’t even cry out for help.
“You and your brother gave me a good run for my money, boy, but it’s time to teach you a lesson about respect. A lesson you’ll be learning for the next hundred years or so. We’re gonna have lots and lots of fun!”
Hold on, bro, Tommy spoke in Tyrone’s injured mind. I’m coming for you!
Tyrone heard his brother’s voice but couldn’t quite understand what they meant. He tried to say something back but had temporarily forgotten how to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tommy run out from under the cover of the mess tent, waving his arms in the air and shouting up at the witch. Tyrone had no idea what he was doing or what he was trying to say.
“Well…well…well. Speak of the devil,” the witch said, seeing Tommy run out from his hiding spot.
“Screw you, lady,” Tommy said. “I ain’t afraid of you.”
“You should be!” she said, hurling her psychic knives into Tommy’s mind and taking great pleasure at hearing him scream.
One moment Tyrone was swimming in a burning cauldron of white-hot pain and the next he was released, finding himself lying in the long cool grass beside a rusty wheelbarrow. It only took him a moment to come to his senses, piece the last few minutes back together, and realize the sacrifice Tommy was making for him. Apparently the witch could only torture one person at a time and his brother had given up his hiding spot knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist punishing him too.
He had no intention of letting Tommy suffer for nothing.
Rolling over, Tyrone reached out and pulled the 3.5 inch rocket launcher into his arms and quickly climbing to his feet. Heaving the heavy steel weapon up onto his right shoulder, he flicked up the sighting mechanism and took careful aim at the exposed stomach of the flying monster hovering above him.
“Smile for the camera, bitch!”
The Scarlet Witch finally realized her mistake and quickly pulled up on the gargoyle’s reins, climbing high into the air and releasing her grip on Tommy’s mind. She banked hard to the left and tried to put some distance between her and Tyrone but he wasn’t about to blow the one chance he was ever likely to get. The Marine took careful aim, held his breath as he’d been taught, and slowly squeezed the trigger.
The missile exited the weapon in a hissing cloud of smoke, fire shooting out the rear of the metal tube for nearly ten feet. The warhead wobbled through the air, curling in a tight spiral as it increased its speed and zeroed in on the underbelly of the marble beast. It hit just below the gargoyle’s massive wings, detonating with a tremendous fiery explosion several times larger than Tyrone had been expecting. The white gargoyle shattered into a million gravelly chunks that rained down across the entire valley, the Scarlet Witch literally disappearing from the sky, shredded and vaporized in the epic blast by the exploding marble shrapnel. When the sound died away and the tiny pieces of white stone stopped falling, there was nothing left to be found of either of them.
“Semper Fi, motherfucker!” Tyrone screamed as loud as he could, not caring who might hear him. It was the unofficial motto of the Marine Corps in battle. Loosely translated from Latin it meant, ‘Hurray for me…fuck you!’
22
Tyrone’s triumph only lasted the length of time it took him to look over and see his older brother motionless in the nearby grass.
“Tommy!” he screamed, tossing the still smoking rocket launcher to the ground and running over to his brother’s side. Tommy’s eyes were closed and two lines of blood ran from his nostrils to drip from his cheeks. Tyrone cradled his brother’s head and used his own ragged shirt to wipe the gore away. “Wake up, man! Don’t you dare die on me. Not like this!”
Tommy’s eyes fluttered open and he rolled to his right side to spit up a mouthful of syrupy blood. “I’m already dead, genius. I’m just a bit more beat up that usual.”
Tyrone laughed and held his brother tight. Around them, the battle was nearly over. A few rifle shots could still be heard but for the time being at least, the Army of the Dead seemed to be defeated. “Thanks for distracting the witch, Tommy. You saved me and gave me the ten seconds I needed to blast her.”
“All I did was walk outside and start waving my arms around. Being stupid doesn’t make me a hero.”
“No, but being brave enough to take the heat for me does. I couldn’t have taken her out without you Tommy. I owe you, man.”
“You don’t owe me shit, bro. Never have…never will. Still think I should have taken the shot though. That marble thing was the size of a freakin’ bus and you still nearly missed it!”
“Fuck you,” Tyrone said, a huge smile on his face, helping his brother to his feet. “You’d have needed a crate of missiles just to scratch its ass.”
Arm in arm, the brothers made their way back to the main brick building they’d left Henrilk, Huong, and Gia in. Along the way they passed a dozen members of the Lost Patrol already dismantling and cleaning their firearms but they never saw one single enemy soldier still on their feet. Henrik and the others ran outside to meet them as they approached the house. Someone from the platoon must have given Huong and her son wool blankets to wrap around their shoulders. They looked warm and happy.
“You did it!” Henrik said, clapping Tyrone on the shoulder. “Ve saw the entire thing from inside. As soon as you killed the vitch, the rest of her army dropped to the grass and haven’t moved since.”
“Really?” Tommy said. “Thought it got pretty quiet there in a hurry.”
“Ya. I think with the vitch gone, there’s no one controlling them anymore. Maybe their souls are finally at peace.”
“Hopefully,” Tyrone said then turned to Huong. “You and the boy okay?”
“Yes. Thank you for saving us. I still can’t believe we made it.”
Tyrone ruffled the boy’s hair, loving the fact he saw a smile on Gia’s dirty little face. To his left he spotted Sgt. Brody walking towards them. “Excuse me for a sec, guys. I need to speak to the Sargent.”
Tyrone left the others talking among themselves and walked over to meet with Brody. He saluted his commanding officer and waited to be acknowledged.
“At rest, soldier,” Sgt. Brody said. “You and your brother did a hell of a job today. I’m proud of you boys.”
“Thank you, sir, but our day’s not over yet. I promised these people I’d try and get them into Heaven. That’s w
hy we ended up here in the first place. Any chance you could point us in the right direction?”
“Sure. Just keep heading for Glacier Lake over yonder. A few more clicks and you’ll be there.”
“That’s what we were told earlier too, but I don’t understand what you mean. How do we get to Heaven once we get to the shore of the lake?”
“Just keep walking. The lake’s frozen, son. Well, most of it anyway. Just keep walking and you’ll figure things out in no time, promise. I have to get my platoon rounded up and treat the wounded. Gonna be a lot quieter around here without the Scarlet Witch around bothering everyone. That was a hell of a shot you took, by the way.”
“Thanks. Lucky, I guess. What will happen now that the witch is gone? Who’ll be in charge inside Tartarus?”
“No idea, but someone will step up to bat. There’s no shortage of power hungry bastards around here. The witch has been in control for hundreds of years but someone will take charge and things will carry on same as usual. People keep dying so the show goes on, ya know?”
“I suppose. What about you and your platoon, sir? Don’t you think it’s time you guys hung up your guns. About time you deserved a rest, no?”
“Rest?” Sgt. Brock said, turning to look off into the distant trees. “Not sure what that word means, soldier. This battle’s done but the war’s not over yet. Not for us at least. We’ll fight for as long as we have to, I reckon. It’s all we know.”
Turning back, Brody reached out and shook Tyrone’s hand, his flesh cold and leathery. “Good luck to you, son. Was a pleasure having you and your brother join the platoon for a while.”
Tyrone thanked him for all his help and watched the leader of the Lost Patrol walk off to gather his men. He silently wished them all luck, hoping they’d eventually find the peace they deserved one of these days. For now though, Tyrone had other things to worry about, like whether or not he was about to go for a swim in an icy lake. Just the thought of such a thing made him start to shiver.
