by Dan Davis
“You’re right.” Ram nodded. “We must protect the weapon. Taking him out of the town with enemies out there is a risk to his life. What are our options?”
“Cooper?” Stirling said. “Any clearer idea of numbers or positions?”
“They’re a hundred meters or more inside the edge of the forest, spreading out to the east and west. There’s movement across at least five hundred meters but I can’t tell how many targets yet.”
“Estimate.”
“At least twenty. Maybe… a hundred. Maybe more.”
“No matter what happens, at some point soon we’re going to have to leave this place with enough time to reach the launch site. So, how can we best do that?”
“You have something in mind, sir?”
“When I took a stroll with the mayor, I saw a truck with a trailer in the garage. The trailer was a flatbed with steel railings on the side with an open top. They pile up raw logs and the like inside.”
“We can ask to borrow it but anyone on that flatbed is going to be elevated and exposed and I’m guessing it’s slow as shit.”
“We can’t make it faster but what if we armored the trailer?”
“Armored?” Stirling said. “How?”
“I don’t know,” Ram said. “Mayor Fraser, do you have a minute?”
“Sure. So, are you guys staying? It’s all about to go off.”
Ram ignored that and watched as the townspeople busied themselves everywhere. Women herded children from a house to somewhere else. Two adolescent boys hustled up the steps to the wall carrying a large ammo box between them. Dozens of people lined the walls, preparing their rifles and their positions. “What’s happening now? What’s your plan for the defense?”
The mayor pointed at various parts of the town. “My people are taking positions on the walls and on the towers and at the gatehouse. We’re bringing up and preparing the heavy weapons. Our families are taking shelter in the bunkers and basements under our houses.”
“How active is your defense?”
Fraser frowned. “What do you mean?”
“What are your tactics when they attack you? You just stay up on the wall and shoot back at them?”
“No, we don’t stay in our positions. We react to enemy assaults, moving people and weapons to where they’re needed and also I keep people down below, inside, as reserves.”
“Okay, and you don’t leave the walls, that’s fine. How do you think they’ll react if the raiders see us here?”
Fraser nodded at the question. “Depends on who’s in charge. Some leaders withdraw right away if they find they haven’t got superiority and they go find somewhere easier. But the only groups that come up this far, that would have the balls to attack us, knowing how well defended we are…” Fraser shrugged. “They’re already committed to slogging it out to some extent. And some guys, seeing your armor and those weapons and your other gear? They’ll just want to take it. They’ll be willing to die for the chance at that armor.”
“But no raider is going to risk a fight to the death, surely?” Ram said. “All the men without discipline have been killed off, that’s what you said. So they’ll cut their losses and run rather than keep losing men.”
“In theory,” Fraser said. “But people aren’t always logical. They don’t always do what you think. They don’t always act in ways that make sense.”
Stirling grinned ruefully. “Hardly ever, in fact.”
“Right,” Fraser said.
“Listen, Fraser,” Ram said. “We just don’t have time to sit back and slug it out with them. We have to punch through and make our rendezvous.”
“Alright. Can’t say I’m not disappointed but I understand.”
“But maybe we can help each other. If we break out of here in force, we might draw some of the enemy away with us. And if they engage us, we’ll kill them. That would leave fewer for you.”
“That is true,” Fraser said, warily.
“You have a tracked truck and trailer in working order, right? Can I borrow it?”
Fraser was aghast. “Well, I don’t know about that, Lieutenant, you see we need—”
Ram cut him off. “Do you have sheet steel?”
Fraser hesitated. “Well, yeah, we’ve been using mild steel plate for all kinds—”
“How thick is it?”
Fraser waved a hand. “We salvaged so much over the years, all different, and I can’t say for certain what’s left. All different.”
“We want the thickest you’ve got.”
“Well, that’s not really my area but I think I remember that we have a whole bunch of quarter inch… wait, why? What for?”
“I’d like your help to armor the truck and trailer in sheet steel so that we can protect our cargo when we drive out of here.”
Fraser stared at him, looking at Stirling as if for help, and then turning to the men and women beside him who stared at Ram with a mix of bemusement and outrage.
“I can’t start pulling people off the line, digging through our stores and welding in the middle of a firefight. Are you crazy?”
“What if me and my men take their place while they do the work?” Ram asked. “Would that be alright, Mayor Fraser?”
One of the mayor’s men leaned in and muttered something. “One of my men will have to drive the truck out to you so he can bring it back after dropping you off. You might very well want to turn my truck into a… an APC but I can’t afford to lose that vehicle.”
“Even if it’s damaged, you’ll be able to salvage it, I’m sure. And anyway, we’ll be protecting it.” Ram patted his rifle. “If you can jury-rig us some armor around your trailer and ideally on the cab, we’ll turn that thing into a gunship and smash our way through your enemies out there. We’ll kill them, we’ll scare the shit out of them. This might be the way you save your town, Mayor Fraser.”
Fraser turned to his people and they bent their heads together. It seemed like most of them wanted to do it.
“We didn’t get where we are today taking unnecessary risks. That truck brings us our fuelwood and building materials. Without it, we’ll not thrive out here until we can buy or steal one. And we’ll have to face winter without it.”
Stirling growled. “But you might not even lose it, man.”
“They’re coming,” Fraser said and made to walk by Ram on the wall.
Ram stepped in his way and looked down. “Listen to me. You heard about our cargo? The weapon we need to extract, you know what he is, right?”
“A genetically engineered super soldier,” Fraser said, shrugging. “Guarding the weapon you found down there that you need to extract—”
“Henry is the weapon. He’s the one fighting in the orb, Fraser. He’s the one who will give us the rights to our planet again. He’s the one who will close the wormhole that brings endless Hex reinforcements here. We need Henry to get to the orb and he can’t ever do that unless we get him out of your town in one piece.”
Fraser stared back at him, his eyes wide. They darted to the faces of his people and then to the trees beyond the wall. The mayor closed his eyes for a moment before answering.
“If we bolt and weld steel plates around the truck and let you drive it out of here, you’ll man the walls in the meantime? You and your entire team? You’ll shoot back at the raiders?”
“We’ll stay as long as we can, no more. But yes, we’ll fight. And we’ll fight well.”
“Alright, then.” Fraser called in some of his men and told them what he needed.
A voice from the wall split the air.
“Incoming!”
Alerts flashed on Ram’s AugHud and he turned to see a streak curling through the air from the edge of the woodland with a trail of thick white smoke behind it.
Missile.
It smashed into the top of the southeast tower and exploded in a shower of stone and dust and smoke, the detonation thrumming through the walls underfoot.
“Here they come!”
11.
Ram rushed to the walls just as dozens of figures emerged from the tree line just two hundred meters away.
His AugHud flashed.
89 TARGETS.
All were wrapped in winter clothing and all were armed. Half stopped and fired their rifles at the walls while the others advanced. Beside him, the townsfolk returned fire.
“Are we engaging, sir?” Stirling asked.
“I’ll give my orders now, Sergeant.”
“Sir.”
He spoke while shots rang out and the townspeople people around them were shouting orders and warning at each other.
“Cooper, you oversee the truck conversion,” Ram said. “Red, you go with him and keep an eye on things.”
“I’m afraid I know nothing of human engineering, sir.”
“You’re not there to help armor the trailer, Red, you’re there to protect them while they work and also to keep an eye on the weapon and the scientist, understand?”
“I understand perfectly, sir, thank you for explaining your orders.”
“Fury, you want to find a spot in the southeast tower? Pick whatever targets you like.”
“Sir.”
“Flores, Stirling. We’re going to take position on the north wall. Fire at will but for god’s sake, watch your ammo, alright?”
They moved into position and Ram watched as the townsfolk fought back against the attackers. They were efficient and calm, firing single shots and calling out targets. The attackers fell quickly, though many were wearing body armor and ballistic helmets beneath their thick clothing and many that were hit got up and kept firing, or fired from their positions, while others limped back toward the trees. One left a trail of blood on the icy ground so thick it was a wonder she could move at all.
“They don’t have ladders or rope or anything,” Ram muttered. “What are they—”
“Are you going to do something?” a woman beside him on the wall shouted as she reloaded her rifle. “Why aren’t you helping us?”
Ram found that he was simply staring at the scene before him. Looking to either side, he noted that neither Stirling or Flores had fired their weapons either.
I never killed anybody before, Ram thought.
“Because this is crazy,” Ram said. “We should be killing the Hex and instead we’re shooting each other.”
“It’s us or them!” the woman snapped, before standing, taking aim and firing over the wall.
“A second wave coming in,” Flores observed.
From the trees, over a hundred raiders emerged and ran forward, many carrying long ladders between them, while the remnants of the first wave came ever closer.
It’s us or them.
Ram took aim at the man closest to him, who reached into a pouch at his hip and pulled out what seemed to be a black canister on a short stick before heaving it back as he ran forward, winding up to throw it. A high caliber rifle round hit him in the face and most of his face was blown through the back of his skull. He fell and a few seconds later, his black canister exploded on the ground next to him in an enormous detonation.
“They’ve got grenades,” Fury said from her position atop the tower. Ram realized it was she who had taken out his target.
“Alright, let’s take out the first wave,” Ram ordered and took aim.
Stirling fired a burst, and Flores also, and both maintained their devastating accurate fire. Fury fired also, slower, but almost every round hits target.
Ram had not yet fired.
“Come on, come on…” he muttered to himself.
It’s us or them.
He fired at a man as he came up out of the broken ground and sprinted toward the wall. A few rounds from the townsfolk hit near him but Ram got him high in the chest with his first shot and he went down, dropping limp as he fell. There were still so many other targets but he focused on the closest to him and fired, taking down one, and then another.
He had expected that shooting real humans would feel horrific but as he fired and killed people, he felt a profound sense of unreality. But Ram could not focus on that or he risked spiraling into madness. Still, his mind was separated from his actions, wondering at the fact that he was not actually in an Avar game and instead was alive, that he was on the Earth, that he was an officer in the UNOP Marines, that he was shooting and killing people who were trying to kill him in turn.
But his body kept doing what it was supposed to be doing, and he picked his targets one by one, fired single shots at each one until they fell before searching for the next target.
The second wave faltered and fell back to the trees. Some leaving their ladders on the ground, others carrying them away with them.
“Is that it?” Flores said, a hint of disgust in her tone.
“Easy enough,” Stirling said, reloading. “I guess without proper military training they—”
Shouts came from all around and Ram turned to see people waving on the opposite wall, across the town. Cries went up from the walls and the defenders’ radios crackled with the news.
“They’re coming from the north!”
“How many?” Fraser shouted at his men.
“Two or three hundred.”
“Damn them,” he snapped. “The southern assault was just a decoy.”
One of his men shook his head, his mouth turned down behind his beard. “They’ve gotten all the way around to the north, through the hills. They must be determined as hell.”
“Take half the men off the south wall here across to the north,” Fraser commanded before turning to Ram. “Lieutenant, would you mind moving your men to—”
“Contact east!”
“Look out, look out!”
A massive blast erupted, far bigger than the last. It took Ram a few moments to understand what was happening, even with his suit providing data. An explosive shell had been fired at a low trajectory from the east and it had detonated against the town’s outer gates. The impact was enormous, with clouds of debris still rising.
Fraser and his men were horrified as they ran forward to see the damage. Ram ran through the corner tower to the east wall to see for himself.
One gate was hanging loose on its great hinges.
“Contact east!” Flores said, her voice unusually shaky. “Armored vehicle!”
Across the open ground in front of the town, a large battle tank emerged from the woodland at speed, halted, and then fired again from five hundred meters.
“Good God Almighty,” Fraser muttered.
His men gaped and some crossed themselves.
“Get back,” Ram shouted, taking cover himself against the wall and crouching as best as he could.
The detonation shook the entire wall and threw out another cloud of debris. Through the swirling dust, Ram could see that the tank’s shell had blasted the door off the hinges.
“Incoming assault, north wall,” Fury said.
To the north, hundreds of raiders streamed toward the walls, while a hundred more came back to once again assault the south walls, some carrying their long ladders between them.
In the east, the tank advanced and behind it came hundreds more men on foot coming on at a run toward the now-open gate to the town.
“Fraser?” Ram said to the mayor who stared east. “What are you going to do?”
The man seemed to come to his senses and began to call for heavy weapons to be brought up and for certain of his men to redeploy on the eastern wall and over the damaged gatehouse.
Ram recalled that Fraser had dreaded one thing above all others. That the hostile settlements would attack in force with just such an armored vehicle with a large gun.
“Sir?” Stirling said. “What are your orders?”
“The town is going to fall. We’ll have to take the truck as it is,” Ram replied on the team channel so that the townspeople could not hear. “Take the truck now, with the weapon and the scientists on the trailer, and just make a run for it. West is the only direction that’s clear right now.”
“No,” Fury said, “it isn’t. Look over the trees, in the sky between those peaks. Heading two-eighty-two west, elevation eighteen degrees.”
Ram turned and followed the directions with his eyes. There was something there and it was coming closer.
“God damn it,” Flores muttered. “They got a helicopter too?”
Ram magnified the image. It was blurry but he knew what it was.
“That’s not a helicopter,” Ram said, a knot forming in his guts. “The Hex are coming.”
12.
“We have to go,” Ram said.
Flores turned and looked directly at Ram from her position on the southeast tower. “We can’t just leave these people, sir. They’ll be overrun.”
“That can’t be helped, Flores,” Stirling said. “But, sir, if we leave the Hex will see us.”
Ram looked for the mayor and strode over to where he was shouting orders. “Fraser! The Hex are here,” Ram said, pointing.
Mayor Fraser squinted. He seemed angry more than anything. “Screw them. Sometimes they observe when humans fight.”
“What? They just sit and watch?”
Fraser was irritated and pointed at the approaching attackers beyond the wall. “It’s that tank we have to deal with. Can’t you take it out?”
Ram looked at the advancing machine. It was huge and its turret pointed almost right at him. Though it came on at walking pace, any moment, it could blast the wall where he stood.
But it held its fire.
The gate was already down.
Perhaps it did not fire again because it did not have any more shells, or it was saving them. The vehicle might be electric, and its enormous batteries could be charged repeatedly from solar panels or anything else that generated electricity but new shells could surely not be easily manufactured, if at all.
“Sir?” Fury said. “I have AP rounds for my rifle. Hit the tracks, maybe? Might be I can slow it down.”
“I can hit it with HE grenades,” Flores said, advancing to the edge of the wall and loading one into the launcher on her rifle.
