World War III

by Heath Jannusch

  “Steady!” Said Lt. Sawyer, raising his arm into the air. “Steady!” He repeated, as enemy soldiers flooded onto the field. The advance scouts were only ten yards away, when he dropped his arm and yelled, “Fire!”

  Riddled with bullets, the scouts fell in the first volley. Realizing they’d walked into a trap, the main force ran across the battlefield, firing a hailstorm of bullets at the Marines, hunkered in the ditch.

  “Harris is down!” Shouted Sgt. Morgan, sniping one soldier after another.

  “Man the fifty Malarkey!” Ordered Lt. Sawyer, as Sgt. Powell dragged Harris’s body to shelter.

  The Private jumped to his feet and ran to the .50 caliber machinegun. He quickly checked the chamber, before firing on the soldiers crossing the field.

  The forest on the eastside of town was so dense, the enemy’s armored vehicles had been forced to remain behind, leaving the soldiers exposed and vulnerable. Yet despite the lack of armored support, they continued to charge forward.

  “Bluebird, this is Rabbit Actual. Do you copy, over?”

  “I read you Rabbit, over.” Answered Cleo, from her position with the archers.

  “I need you to ignite the eastern field, over!” Shouted Lt. Sawyer, as a barrage of bullets thudded into the earth around him.

  “Understood, over and out!”

  The overwhelming number of troops were more than the Marines could handle and one-by-one, they fell to enemy fire.

  “Malarkey, target their center!” Ordered Lt. Sawyer. “Malarkey?”

  “Malarkey’s dead!” Shouted Sgt. Morgan, crawling on his belly toward the machinegun.

  “We’re all gonna be dead if we don’t retreat!” Yelled Sgt. Powell, unloading a clip into three soldiers, before they could jump into his foxhole. He immediately climbed out of the hole and ran toward the enemy, firing his rifle and screaming like a wild man.

  “Get back here Sergeant!” Order the Lieutenant, but it was too late.

  Sgt. Powell killed twelve enemy soldiers, before taking two rounds in the chest. He fell to the ground, choking on his own blood and looked up at the sky. The last thing he saw before his eyes glazed over, was a flock of birds flying overhead.

  Dozens of flaming arrows soared high into the air, before arching and falling to the field. The arrows ignited everything they touched, turning both the eastern forest and the battlefield into a fiery furnace of hell. Agonizing cries from dying men and the stench of burning flesh, filled the air.

  “Open fire!” Ordered Lt. Sawyer, seizing the opportunity to thwart the enemy’s advance. The Marines did as ordered and gunned soldiers down, as they scurried from the field in every direction.

  “Briar Patch, calling Groundhog. Do you copy, over?” Asked Mason, watching the battle on his screen.

  “This is Groundhog, over.”

  “You are clear to attack, over.”

  “Copy that, over and out!” Hiding behind a hill east of town, Hunter led a cavalry charge of three thousand men. They stormed into the forest and surrounded the field, decimating what was left of the enemy.

  Satisfied the eastern front was secure, Mason zoomed out and scanned back to the field west of town. The fire was no longer blazing and he could see the enemy Commander preparing for another assault.

  “Briar Patch, calling Squirrel. Do you copy, over?”

  “This is Squirrel, go ahead, over.”

  “Be advised the enemy is preparing to launch another assault, over.”

  “Copy that,” said Ian. “What’s the ETA on Firefly, over?”

  “Another ten minutes, over.”

  “Copy that, over and out.”

  The Communist Muslim Coalition continued to bombard the town with artillery shells, while their troops regrouped and tended to the wounded.

  “Briar Patch, calling Firefly. Do you copy, over?”

  “This is Firefly, go ahead,” said Kye, as he climbed into the cockpit and started the engine.

  “What’s your twenty, over?”

  “We’re at the Sampson Ranch, about to take off, over.”

  “We need you ASAP, over!”

  “Roger that, we’re on our way, over and out!”

  Kye taxied the fighter onto a dirt road and gave it full throttle. A moment later the plane was in the air and headed for Clearview. When the enemy was in sight, he put the Firefly into a dive, targeting artillery guns positioned on the west side of town. He sprayed the area with bullets, dropping several soldiers manning the guns.

  As the fighter flew past, Sampson lit a Molotov Cocktail and dropped it on one of the artillery guns. The crew operating the gun burst into flame, as the sticky substance ignited their uniforms and spread to the artillery shells. He continued dropping one cocktail after another, targeting tanks, trucks and artillery guns.

  “Fox calling Briar Patch! Fox calling Briar Patch! Do you copy, over?”

  “This is Briar Patch, go ahead, over.”

  “Briar Patch, be advised we’re located on the enemy’s six. Where do you need us, over?” Asked Jeremiah, watching the battle from a hill above and behind the enemy’s main force. Using binoculars, he scanned the battlefield from the open hatch of the German Tiger tank.

  Focused on the screen in front of him, it only took Mason a few seconds to locate Sampson’s collection of armored vehicles, sitting on the enemy’s flank. He zoomed in on the Commander of the Communist Muslim Coalition and realized the officer was completely unaware of Jeremiah’s presence.

  “Fox, head east of your position and attack the enemy from behind. I repeat, attack the enemy’s main force from behind, over.”

  “Copy, over and out.” Said Jeremiah, spitting a stream of tobacco juice onto the ground. “Alright fellas,” he yelled, glancing at the volunteers around him, “mount up! We’re gonna hit ‘em from behind!”

  He dropped into the tank and secured the hatch, before picking up the radio and saying, “Collins, take the Sherman and two Half-Tracks down to the left. Miller, follow with a Deuce and a Half. Davis, you take the Panzer, with the M1 Abrams and the M60 Patton down to the right. Brown, follow them with the other Deuce and a Half. Clark, Thompson, you’re with me. Bring the Centurion and Sentinel up on either side of the Tiger and follow me down through the center. And Anderson, follow behind us with the Bushmaster.”

  The sound of their engines starting, was muffled by the bombardment of shells hitting the besieged town below. “Alright boys, let’s hit ‘em where it counts!” Shouted Jeremiah, as he put the Tiger Tank into motion. “Once we’ve broken through the center of their line, unload your troops and take out those guns!”

  The mishmash of armored vehicles started down the hill, creating a cloud of dust in their wake. “Hold your fire until we’re right on top of them!” Yelled Jeremiah, steering the Tiger Tank toward the enemy Commander. “Woohoo!” He cheered, knocking down trees and rolling over giant boulders.

  “You’re having too much fun,” said Casey, ramming a shell into the tank’s gun barrel. Although his leg was broken, he could still operate the cannon and had insisted on coming along.

  “There’s no such thing!” Laughed Jeremiah. “I’ve always wanted to drive a tank! Get ready to fire!”

  The Commander’s confidence in the overwhelming size of his army had made him careless. He was so fixated on destroying the town in front of him, he didn’t realize he’d been flanked, until it was too late.

  “Fire!” Yelled Jeremiah, when the retired convoy of armored vehicles reached the bottom of the hill.

  Casey aimed at the rear of an enemy tank and fired. The Tiger jumped from the cannon’s kick and a deafening roar reverberated inside its belly. The shell smashed into the Russian tank’s turret, causing a fiery explosion within. He quickly loaded another shell, as Jeremiah charged forward, causing chaos throughout the enemy’s ranks.

  The Commander immediately called for reinforcements, while trying desperately to rally his men. He finally managed to get some of his troops to turn and engage Jere
miah’s force, before ordering a platoon of Super Soldiers to attack the town. The orders from his superiors were clear, occupy the town and crush any resistance, regardless of the cost. If he retreated, his superiors would likely have him relieved of command and shot for cowardice. So instead, he ordered his men to attack.

  *******

  Ian watched from his position in the ditch west of town, as Jeremiah’s armored battalion smashed into the enemy’s rearguard and neutralized their artillery guns. “Now’s our chance,” he yelled, climbing out of the ditch and standing on the smoldering field. “Come on men!” He turned and waived to the volunteers, still hunkered in the ditch. “Attack!”

  The defenders of Clearview flooded from the ditch and onto the field, charging toward the enemy. With the exception of several pitfalls still ablaze, most of the fire had burned out. Men from both sides clashed in the middle of the field and fought hand-to-hand. Ian and his men slowly gained the upper hand and began pushing the enemy back, when a group of Super Soldiers appeared from out of nowhere and started slaughtering the volunteers.

  Knowing his men wouldn’t last against cyborg soldiers, Ian turned and ran for the large columbine tractor, blocking the road into town. Climbing aboard, he found the keys still in the ignition. He started the engine and drove onto the field, headed for the Super Soldiers butchering his men.

  Seeing Ian driving across the field, the Super Soldiers concentrated their gunfire on the tractor. Bullets smashed through the windshield, shattering the glass. Undaunted by the hail of bullets, Ian crouched below the dashboard and pressed his foot against the gas pedal.

  As the columbine approached, Super Soldiers tried in vain to flee from the tractor’s rotating blades, but the mixture of oil and gasoline was affecting the mechanical components of their bodies and one-by-one, they became bogged down in the sticky concoction. With the cyborgs unable to move, Ian drove the columbine back and forth over them, killing the Super Soldiers without remorse. Their moral boosted, his men resumed the attack and charged across the field toward the enemy Commander.

  Watching his men flee from the battlefield, the Commander ordered a full retreat and turned to leave. He climbed into a transport vehicle and was considering how his superiors would react to the defeat, when a German Tiger tank appeared from out of nowhere.

  With a big grin on his face, Jeremiah plowed over the vehicle, crushing the officer before he could react.

  From his position in Dr. July’s kitchen, Mason watched as the foreign army fled from the battlefield. He used the mouse to scan out and see the area more clearly and was about to look away, when a flicker of movement caught his eye. He zoomed in on the southern quadrant and felt his heart skip a beat. A large, enemy convoy, twice the size of the first, was headed north from Kingsbury Grade and about to make contact with the army fleeing south.

  Mason closed his eyes and whispered, “God, if you really do exist, help us!” He grabbed the radio and yelled, “Briar Patch, calling all stations. Be advised, there’s another army approaching from the south. I say again, there is a second and larger convoy, approaching from the south! We need to regroup and…”

  Before he could finish relaying the message, an artillery shell crashed into the doctor’s living room and exploded in a ball of flame. Mason’s body was lifted into the air and hurtled across the room. He smashed through a wall and fell to the floor unconscious.

  Cleo saw the explosion from the top of the library and immediately climbed from the rooftop. She ran to the doctor’s house and kicked open the door, before storming inside. The screen on the laptop was cracked and the picture was flickering on and off. Although a little smashed, the radio was still working.

  “Briar Patch, this is Squirrel. Come in, over?”

  “Briar Patch this is Rabbit Actual, say again, over.”

  Cleo found Mason lying unconscious beneath part of a wall and quickly dug him out. She checked his pulse and was relieved to feel a steady heartbeat. Grabbing his shoulders, she dragged him from the burning house, before returning to answer the radio.

  “This is Bluebird. Briar Patch is down, over.”

  “Bluebird, can you confirm another enemy convoy, approaching from the south, over?”

  Cleo tried to get a clear picture, but the equipment was damaged beyond repair. She gazed at the flickering screen, searching for any sign of a threat. Although the keyboard was smashed and the mouse broken, she suddenly caught movement in the corner of the screen.

  “Roger that,” she said, staring at a long line of tanks and armored vehicles. “It’s even bigger than before, over.”

  “Copy that,” said Lt. Sawyer. “I need all Company Commanders to meet at the Command Center, over and out!”

  “Firefly calling all stations. We’ve refueled and rearmed. Where do you need us, over?”

  “Firefly, this is Bluebird, we’ve got another enemy convoy headed this way from the south. Can you intercept, over?”

  “Roger that, over and out.”

  Cleo turned and left the house, as another shell fell from the sky and destroyed what remained. She dragged Mason’s unconscious body to the clinic and was dismayed to find it overwhelmed by the wounded and dying.

  *******

  When Shiloh saw the second shell hit the doctor’s house with steadfast precision, he became curious and climbed to the roof of the Shady Lady. He scanned the surrounding hills, searching for the shells origin and was about to give up, when a flicker of light caught his attention.

  He focused on the spot and after a moment of patience, saw Cody Hyde crouching next to a tree. Watching the town through a telescope, the traitor was relaying fire coordinates into a handheld radio. Shiloh took aim at the man and was about to fire, when Cody suddenly stood up and started down the hill, headed for the eastside of town. Curious as to what drew the man’s attention, Shiloh peered through the scope on his rifle, searching the direction he was headed.

  Scanning the field east of town, he saw the remainder of Marines preparing for another assault. In the center of the field he saw his truck and crouching next it was Scarlett. She was tending to a wounded soldier and oblivious to the man stalking her. Seeing her alone and undefended, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  So that’s what he’s after!

  He glanced back to Cody’s position and realized the man was gone from sight. Springing to his feet, Shiloh hurried down the ladder and ran across town. He reached the eastern field and saw Scarlett disappear behind a knoll, with Cody chasing after her.

  Darting across the battlefield littered with dead, Shiloh checked his rifle to ensure it was loaded and ready to fire. He rounded the knoll and found Scarlett lying on her back, with Cody on top. He raised his rifle to fire, but hesitated, realizing the bullet would probably go through Cody’s body and into Scarlett’s.

  “Get off her!” He shouted, his rifle aimed at Cody’s head.

  Cody spun around, positioning Scarlett between himself and Shiloh and held a gun to her head. “Now where the hell did you come from?” He asked, glancing to the left and right.

  “Let her go,” said Shiloh. “This is between you and me.”

  “Ya know, I’ve been looking for you,” said Cody. “Funny this is where ya show up.”

  “Well, I’m here now,” replied Shiloh. “Why don’t ya let the lady go?”

  “Lady?” Sneered Cody. “She’s no lady! She’s a whore!”

  “She’s the Mayor of Mound House,” said Shiloh, hoping to defuse the situation. “Think about it. What do ya think Hunter is gonna do if you hurt her? Not to mention all the men who visit the brothels. She’s your meal ticket. If you hurt her, ya might as well sign your death warrant.”

  Cody glanced at Scarlett, considering Shiloh’s reasoning. “I want her!” He said, stroking her hair and sniffing the fragrance.

  “I get that,” replied Shiloh. “Even the best of us are denied sometimes, but that’s no reason to kill the woman.”

  Cody glared at Scarle
tt, as though he wanted to hurt her. “She laughed at me!”

  “I get that too,” said Shiloh, lowering his rifle and placing it on the ground. “I’ve been hurt before.”

  “Did she laugh at you?” Hissed Cody, forcing Scarlett to her knees and pressing the muzzle of his gun to her temple.

  “No,” admitted Shiloh, “but I know the sting of rejection. Just because she turned you down, doesn’t mean one of the other girls won’t want you.”

  “They all laugh at me,” grumbled Cody, cocking the hammer on his pistol.

  “Then show them you’re a man,” said Shiloh, making eye contact with Scarlett and nodding gently to his left.

  “I am a man!” Spat Cody, raising his pistol and pointing it at Shiloh’s chest.

  With the gun no longer pressed to her head, Scarlett spun around and shot Cody in the stomach. She dropped to the ground and rolled away, as he released her hair and grabbed his belly.

  Enraged, Cody aimed his gun at Scarlett and was about to pull the trigger, when Shiloh drew his sidearm and fired from the hip. The bullet hit Cody’s shoulder and spun him around, so that he was facing Shiloh. Gripping his stomach with one hand, he raised his gun with the other. He took aim and was about to squeeze the trigger, when another bullet hit him in the chest. Cody fell to his knees and struggled to lift the gun, which felt heavier than usual.

  “It’s over,” said Shiloh, watching Cody closely.

  Cody could feel life escaping his body, as blood bubbled from his wounds and formed a pool in the snow beneath him. Using both hands to lift his gun, he grinned and was about to pull the trigger, when flame belched from Shiloh’s gun. The bullet tore through Cody’s heart, killing him instantly.

  “Oh Shiloh!” Gasped Scarlett, running to his arms.

  “Are you alright?” He asked, noticing his six-shooter clenched in her hand. A thin tendril of smoke rose from the pistol’s muzzle.

  “Yes, I think so,” she smiled, handing him the gun. “I’ve never shot anyone before.”

  “It was him or us. You did the right thing. Come on,” he said, wrapping his arm over her shoulder, “let’s get you back to town.”