by Justin Sloan
Relic shouted for us to get off our asses and kill those simulated sons of bitches, and who was I to argue. More teams came up behind them. Relic’s team was shooting at them, and I saw it was the enemy, apparently in retreat. They weren’t even stopping to shoot, just running as fast as they could.
It didn’t sit right with me. If they were in retreat, wouldn’t they at least find cover, shoot back, and try to find some way of distracting their attackers other than just running like this was mobile target practice?
“Bit off more than they could chew!” Relic said over his shoulder at me with a laugh. “Get some!”
I shook my distracting thoughts away and prepared to fire. Derrins was shouting something behind me, and when I turned I saw movement from that direction. A whole group of them coming in at us, much larger than seemed right.
“Relic!” I shouted, forgetting myself and charging over. “We’ve got incoming!”
He glanced past me to the direction I was indicating, and his eyes narrowed. “More the merrier.” He turned and shouted, “On your left!”
The other group of retreating enemy was either taken out or had escaped, so the majority of Relic’s forces moved to take on this new threat. I motioned to Derrins and we darted to our left, grabbing three others along the way. Williams wouldn’t be too much use, what with the way his left arm hung there. But you never know, and so far he’d proven himself to be a good pair of eyes if nothing else.
We made it around to the back of a hill and then charged up it, kneeling or taking the prone to aim in at the enemy from above. Here I could see that Relic’s team was pushing back on them, even though they were outnumbered. They were moving toward a field that had very little cover and would surely cause our side to wipe them out in quick order.
“There’s no way they’re so stupid,” I said. “It’s a trap.”
“The colonel’s got this,” one of the Marines said, but I wasn’t buying it.
I aimed, took a shot, and watched one of the enemy pixelate out. The others were doing the same. Then Relic entered the field, and suddenly the enemy stopped, pulling back as if on the retreat.
The Marines charged, and I cursed.
“Dammit, stay back!” I shouted, but they couldn’t hear me. Using my comms this time, I repeated the command, only to have Relic shout back.
“Negative on that, advance!”
Before I had a chance to counter, all hell broke loose. Even in the strategic formations and ducking for cover as the Marines did, they started to fall. The enemy was taking more losses, but Marine body after body collapsed, lying there in the bright moonlight.
And… there was the fact that their bodies were falling, lying there, not moving, and certainly not vanishing in a plume of smoke-like pixels. As far as numbers went, they were winning, but at too big of a cost—no lives were supposed to be lost here.
Derrins was the first of those near me to fall, and I turned to see three of the enemy advancing up the hill. I took out one, the other Marines taking out the other two. A glance back at Derrins confirmed what I’d been seeing—instead of being zapped out of there as they’d briefed me on and I’d seen with the enemy, he was on his back, half of his face missing and blood oozing out to seep into the dirt.
He was gone. Dead. It didn’t seem right. This was being televised, the first virtual war that was supposed to protect civilians. If his family was watching, seeing that sight certainly couldn’t be pleasant, even if it was a simulation. Instead of waiting for more to come at us, we ran down and over to the next section of the hill. I jumped up onto the next ridge and took down two of my opponents with well-placed shots, then dropped back for cover as they returned fire.
Bodies were falling left and right. I saw many that I’d known or just met, including Wingate fall, and that’s when the comms rang out, saying, “Marines, pull back, get to cover. Something’s wrong, we’re…”
The voice faded as another cut in, screaming, “Holy shit, holy shit! Medic, dammit. Where’s the doc?”
“What’s going on?” I asked into the comms. I turned back to look for the colonel, only to see artillery land and blow him to smithereens.
More shouting over the comms, more people freaking out. Finally, the first voice came back and said, “We’re pulling you all. In the meantime, find whatever cover you can. Get to safety. Your life depends on it.”
6
“What the hell are you talking about?” I shouted, unable to believe we were essentially surrendering. The Great Americas had already agreed to the final judgment of the World Council of Justice. If we actually pulled out, that would be surrender. That would likely mean reparations, and it would definitely mean that we’d have to give up on helping the rest of the world to be free. Even if the hack or whatever this was could be detected or viewed—which I was guessing it couldn’t—I wasn’t convinced we’d be let off the hook.
But if there was still a way to win this war, that could all change. And as far as I was concerned, there was always a way to win. I’d lost one battle in my life, and that was the battle to keep Donica alive. There was no way I was going to lose this one too.
For now, though, I didn’t have much choice but to make for cover. We were getting our asses handed to us, and I needed to ensure I’d be alive when the time came to strike back. All around me the shots kept coming, the shouts of agony sounding as Marines were taken out.
As more fell at my sides, I tried to rally the rest and get them to a fallback position. Some were coming, others hanging back and trying to put up a fight. Very few seemed to be following the orders from command, and my guess was they were still too shocked and confused.
One of the enemy appeared in the darkness from my right, saw me, and then prepared to fire. I charged him, knocked the rifle aside with my own, and then swept his legs out from under him with some good ol’ MCMAP skills. Before he’d finished rolling down the decline, I had my rifle up and ready so that I put three shots into his exposed neck and face the moment he came to a rest. More shots came from behind, so I slid down the hill, right into an area of at least five fallen Marines. Behind me, the enemies’ silhouettes appeared on the hill, and I knew I was a sitting duck.
I threw myself to the ground, rolling with a corpse of one of my fallen comrades so that it was between me and the enemy. As soon as we stopped, I rolled sideways and pulled my rifle up, prepared to either shoot or be pulled out. My body flickered and I felt pain. For a second, I was back in the room.
There was no way I could’ve been prepared for what I saw there.
Nobody could’ve expected the blood, the panic. These were trained professionals, running around like maniacs. Men were working computers, others trying to pull cables from corpses.
Suddenly, the Marine next to me opened his eyes. For a moment we stared at each other, and then his eyes went red, filled with blood, and he collapsed. Judging by the empty look in those eyes, he was dead.
“Get me back in there!” I shouted, but it was already happening anyway. Within three heartbeats I was back, fully immersed in the game.
Everyone around me was being slaughtered. Those who hadn’t yet been killed were standing there like lifeless husks—many of them with their minds still in the transition phase as command was trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Target practice.
A man to my left was scrambling to help the Marine to his left stand, not realizing she didn’t have legs, and then a bullet shot through his neck and he was down. To my right, two Marines were charging a hill, only to get mowed down by a barrage of bullets. I ran over to three Marines in a trench, landing in there with them two seconds before a grenade hit the other side and bounced.
Maybe it was all my time playing games and dealing with grenades that way, because I’d never have done what I did next while in the service. I caught the grenade before it hit the floor, spun, and heaved it up and back the way it had come.
The explosion sent a ringing in my ears and dirt raining down
on us—damn realistic dirt.
“The hell’s going on?” one of them asked, and I turned to see it was Stone.
“Someone’s changed the rules,” I replied. “Only problem is, nobody told us.”
Stone was with two of his buddies—Rakeheart and Leiberman. The latter had blood seeping down from a wound in her arm.
“First, we need to—” I started, interrupted by more gunfire and a shot going right through Rakeheart’s left eye, ending his life. “SHIT!”
On instinct I spun and returned fire, then noticed a group of six Marines making a run for the opposite tree line. They took down a group of the enemy in their way and dove for cover, nearly to their objective.
“There!” I said, pointing them out. “Get to them, we need to regroup, form a coordinated counter-attack.”
“Can’t they just pull us out of here!” Leiberman asked, her voice cracking.
“They can’t, and they wouldn’t surrender,” I replied. “Not our government. Not when Marines are still alive to fight.”
I motioned to move, when a shout for help came from behind.
“Wait!” the call came again.
I spun to see a man running at us, a belt of ammo strapped around him as he tried to carry a SAW machine gun. The grunt whose job it was to man it was likely down, and this stupid son of a bitch wouldn’t leave it behind.
“Drop the SAW!” I said, waving over. When I saw he wouldn’t, I said, “Stone, get your asses over to the others at the tree line. I’ll be right behind you.”
He started to protest, but glanced at my rank and nodded with a “Yes, sir.” Then the three were up and charging, firing at the enemy. They dove for cover, crawled forward as shots went over them, and then were up again.
“Come on, you bastard!” I shouted to the man with the SAW, and was about to run back to him when a grenade went off, sending shrapnel through his leg. He fell forward, right on the SAW, and rolled with a grunt.
I had no choice, so I rushed for him, grabbing him up in a fireman’s carry over my shoulders. I took two steps before his head was hit and blood exploded all over one side of his face. Stone charged forward when a barrage of artillery hit, taking out Stone and his pal. Dammit.
Knowing that way meant certain death, I about-faced and headed for the opposite tree line. I figured I could get to cover now and circle back to find the others later. My legs were burning as I shouted into my comms that they needed to stop trying to pull people out, to just leave us for now, but still many seemed frozen, some falling dead. Halfway to the tree line, I heard the whistling sound, turned to see an object incoming, and knew it had to be some sort of missile. Whatever it was, I didn’t take the time to find out. I was booking it, going all out for those trees as bullets pelted the ground all around me. Some whizzed by and hit the trees, and then I was there, inexplicably. I don’t know if I’d been running faster than normal, or if the tree line moved, but there was no way I could have made it that fast.
The ground was uneven, and I threw myself down behind a berm as the explosion went off behind me. Fire spread out, catching on half of the trees nearby, and I lay there, cradling my head and wanting to scream out loud.
Two more Marines appeared, jumping out from a foxhole and running toward me, when they started to flicker out as if being called back from command. But all it did was cause them to freeze in place, so that the next rounds tore through them. I knew their bodies had just shut down back at command, and it horrified me—not because it had happened right in front of me, but that they’d only been hit because they froze due to command trying to pull them out.
“Don’t pull any more out!” I shouted again, not sure if command could even hear me at this point. “It’s not working!”
I continued sprinting with all my might, but faltered at an odd sight. There in the trees above me was a silhouette, dark like a shadow but with a strange light glowing behind it, watching me. It could be a trap, but staying put was certain death.
“Go,” I heard a female say behind me, and I didn’t wait to find out who. I was running again. I leaped over a creek and nearly fell, then chanced a look back as a jet went streaming over, payloads dropping. Napalm lit up the field, bursting round flames into the sky.
Even if Stone and Lieberman had been able to join up with the six, there was no way the group could’ve survived that. They were all gone. Everyone was dead. Everyone, that is, except for this female Marine and me.
7
“Down!” the woman’s voice said—the same voice from before—and then she came charging out, diving, and tackled me.
KABOOM! A rocket had just gone past and exploded against the cliff behind me, sending rock fragments scattering. One hit the woman in the head, and she slumped down on top of me. Not the best situation to be in, considering we had incoming. Not that it made sense. None of this did! They weren’t supposed to have weapons like that, they weren’t supposed to be able to kill us in here.
But it was all happening. It was real.
I slung my rifle over my shoulder, hefted her up, and took off for the rocky hills nearby, hoping to find some sort of cover and not trip over roots or rocks in the darkness. As I ran, I noticed, to my relief, that she wore the same uniform as me. There hadn’t been much doubt, based on her behavior, but I had to be sure. Nothing felt safe anymore.
We left the field behind us, going on until my simulated legs couldn’t carry me anymore. In video game terms, I guess it meant I was out of stamina and needed a recharge, but I was still confused as to how this sim worked. It was probably more accurate to think of it as being exhausted, but I didn’t want to consider it that way. If I thought about all of this in real terms, that meant I had to accept this place, start internalizing everything that had happened to our military, and likely freak out.
As well as I handled pressure, losing a war and finding out there’re only two of you left against an enemy that is cheating is a whole new level of pressure.
The sun was starting to rise in the direction I’d been running, and I was relieved to know I wouldn’t need food or to use the bathroom, as both would’ve been a hindrance at the moment. Still, the thought was disturbing. Back in that large room of dead Marines, two bodies would still be in the machines. Just us two, both of us with food being funneled in through tubes, piss and feces being caught in bags.
I refused to die like that.
There had only been one other time in life that I’d been so close to death, and that hadn’t been during my combat experience. It had been when a doctor had diagnosed me with cancer of the spine. Extremely rare and hard to treat, though medical science had gone a long way since the same type of cancer had taken my great-grandfather at twenty-three years of age. Jack Aby had left this world and his three children for my grandmother to raise, though of course he certainly hadn’t wanted to. When the doctor told me my chances of survival were less than ten percent, I had looked into Donica’s eyes and felt relieved to not have children. I couldn’t do that to her… and yet a great sorrow took over, knowing I also wouldn’t have the chance to give her children.
We’d beaten the cancer, with her by my side every step of the way, only to have the drunk driver spin the situation on its head. But she was gone, I was left. Now the Marines were gone, with just me and this stranger to essentially save the world. Let’s not beat around the bush—saving the world was exactly what we were doing. If the likes of the Eastern Ascent Company went unchecked, they would eventually overstep their bounds to the point where we’d have no choice but to declare actual, physical war. Meaning death for all.
Meaning we had to save the world, or die trying.
A form appeared in the trees far off, in the same direction as the rising sun. I scrambled for my rifle, preparing to shoot… but it was gone. Or had it really been there at all? Now that I stared at the backlit trees, I realized I could’ve been imagining it.
With a sigh, I leaned back, eyes focused in case someone was actually out there. This t
ime my thoughts turned to the men and women who had lost their lives this night, and what must be going on in the minds of their families and friends, and throughout the world. Either there was a blackout and nobody knew what was happening, or they’d all witnessed a massacre that would leave everyone assuming it was over for the Great Americas. At least for now, I hoped it was the former—better to have them all wondering than left without hope.
The woman at my side stirred, a hand going to her head. She groaned as she opened her eyes and took me in. Now that it was light out, I could see her better too. A Marine with dark hair tied back, slender but strong.
“We… made it?” she asked.
“Only us,” I said. “Do you remember your name?”
“What?”
“Your name. You were hit back there, pretty hard. I’m worried it could be a concussion.”
She held her head a moment longer, then blinked and looked at me.
“Rivera,” she said. “Lieutenant Rivera.” The distant look in her eyes left and she focused on me, then frowned. “Can you get a concussion in a simulation?”
“From what I’ve seen, this isn’t much of a simulation anymore,” I said, going on to explain. My eyes moved to her rank insignia on her body armor, and I frowned. “You mean ‘captain,’ right?”
With a confused tilt of her head, she looked down and then said, “Ah, yes. A recent promotion. She licked her lips, blinking away more confusion. “Yes, I remember now. Captain. Captain Rivera, and… oh, gods, the other Marines… Shit.”
“We’re in it, for sure.”
We held each other’s gaze for a moment, until finally I tried to give her a comforting smile. Knowing I was failing, I poked my head back up to scan the area again. There was no sign of the enemy, so I motioned for her to follow. Seeing as she was able to stand and didn’t seem wobbly as she ran, I focused more on the surroundings and ensuring we were clear than on checking on her. She was a Marine, after all, so could take care of herself.
