Desert Strike

by Leo Nix

  He didn't realise he was on the very edge of the hill top and as he rolled he fell over the cliff edge. His head smacked into a rock and his limp body slid down the slope to lie unconscious at the base of the hill. There he lay beneath a patch of spiked desert spinifex. In the panic of the fight, no one noticed that he had disappeared.

  The fight continued, its fury unabated. The Crusader sergeant, veteran of Afghanistan and Iraq, formed a circle of his troops as the Talons hit them with rifle fire followed by a vicious rush with bayonet and knife. They slipped in the blood of their mates but still they fought with a savage instinct for survival. The Talons may have been an elite battalion but the desperation and ferocity of the Crusaders after a year of humiliation met them at every thrust of their blades.

  They fought each other to a standstill until not one was left standing. Neither Talon, Ravens Claw, Stosstruppen nor Crusader remained unscathed. The appalling sounds of men dying and killing persisted as each furiously fought to squeeze the life force from the other.

  Normy tried to rally his men but he had no voice, a Talon had his hand at his neck and was throttling the life from him. He felt a panic rising as his throat was forced closed. With an animal's instinct for survival, a burst of adrenaline shot into his blood stream.

  His arm was pinned beneath the enemy's buttocks. In that moment of panic he managed to wrest it free to jam his thumb into his assailant's anus. The hand around his throat at first slackened then quickly let go. The Talon was horrified at the ignominy of his enemy's act. He roared with outrage, absolutely furious at the underhanded jab. With an evil, spiteful smile on his lips he reached to his belt and pulled his bayonet free. Normy pulled the Stosstruppen blade from his scabbard matching his enemy's knife fighting stance.

  They circled each other slowly, not for a second did they take their eyes from the other. As one lunged forward, the other would deflect and counter thrust. They fought not just each other but their own exhaustion - their sweat dried as fast as it flowed in the dry desert heat.

  Neither realised that all fighting had ceased, not a single attacker or defender remained on their feet except themselves. The sound of dying men was the only sound that could match the bone-weary grunts and heaving, laboured breaths of the two fighters.

  The elite Talon soldier knew he was the superior of the two. Not once but twice his knife drew blood. He smiled again knowing he would kill this cowardly bastard. What sort of Revelationist would use such dishonourable means to escape death? The kind who died at the end of his blade, he decided.

  He was an experienced knife fighter and he saw it clearly, an opening. With a flick of his wrist he twisted his knife into Normy's stomach driving it deep slicing into his liver and stomach. But in his weakened state he slipped in the blood pooled at their feet.

  Normy had also used a knife before, in the old days, before he found the church had other means to control people. Instinctively, he thrust his knife into the groin of his opponent. It happened so quickly, neither had a chance to avoid the other's blade. They fell forward, entangled together.

  Normy dropped his knife to clutch at his stomach and groaned. “You bastard, you've done for me.” He keeled over vomiting blood and bile. His enemy was already dead, Normy's knife had sliced clean through the Talon's femoral artery.

  The drone buzzed overhead like a dragon fly looking for survivors, there were none. It continued filming the scene for the next fifteen minutes before the bored controller brought it back in.

  It was dark when Tim woke to the sound of dingoes howling and he shivered. The moon shone brightly as he looked around wondering where he was and why he felt so much pain, then he remembered the battle.

  The sound of movement came to him and he sensed a pack of dingoes, wild dogs, forming a circle to surround him. Tim knew the dogs were starved having had two seasons of heavy breeding and now their population had outgrown the available food in this particular region. It happened in every area he'd been posted to, they'd become a real menace since the apocalypse.

  'Just what I need," he groaned to himself, “starving dingoes and here I am, lame in one arm and no weapon in the other.' He heard a growling whine as the dingoes tightened their circle, their red eyes glowing in the moonlight. The pack of wild dogs closed upon him.

  Chapter 6 - Wiram's Worry

  Within a day of Vic's message, Sundown, McFly and Tricia were in Bill's Cessna bound for Alice Springs. Things were now quite settled at the palace and so Major Lewis pulled the original Sundown's Commando from the front line for a break to work with the horses and camels.

  When Pedro had returned from Alice Springs two months earlier, he and Fat Boy took to spending time together. Fat Boy idealised his father, who died when he was just a boy and now Pedro became the father he'd lost.

  From the time their father died until they met Sundown's Commando, Fat Boy and Blondie lived life on the edge. When their father was killed, they were sent to live with their cousins, the Wilsons. The community workers who sent them there had no idea the Wilsons were sadistic predators who repeatedly brutalised and assaulted the two children. Things changed the day Fat Boy turned fourteen and nearly killed Brad, the leader of the Wilson pack.

  Pedro's one complaint in life now was tobacco. Supplies had run out and everyone was forced to use wild tobacco. It just wasn't the same. One drunken night, Fat Boy went down into the tunnels below the Christian Palace, where he discovered a secret room. It was packed to the roof with cured tobacco leaf, no doubt meant for sale on the black market. Fat Boy wasn't quite sure what to do with it, but he'd lived a life where a secret as valuable as this was worth keeping. He gave some to Pedro while he thought about how he could use this new-found treasure. He kept his find a secret until Nulla noticed Pedro's special leaf.

  “Pedro, you can't hide that leaf from me, mate. I smuggled contraband for years and that, my friend, is just what I need for my own tobacco pouch.” Pedro, in his wisdom, handed Nulla a bag the very next day. Together the three men sat and laughed as they swapping stories of their criminal activities.

  Each evening the Commando spent a lot of their free time sitting, drinking and talking. Pretty soon Blondie was drawn into their private group. Then along came Cambra, Jenny, Jeda, Shadow and McFly. It was a mixed group of unusual individuals but they soon became known as Pedro's mob. The teenage girls were always dropping in with Cambra to chat with Pedro and for some reason Simon and Luke were usually with them when they weren't on bike patrol or with the horses and camels.

  Jaina and her boyfriend, Jason, who now sported the nick-name of 'Shrek', enjoyed hanging around the riggers and the soldiers. Halo, in particular, was one of the ringleaders of the military set. His stories of the Commando battles always drew a crowd no matter what time of day. He would set up camp just at dusk on the top floor landing overlooking the lagoon. Somehow he'd convinced the girls to keep them supplied with food and drink so everyone could party while he held court.

  Pedro and his mob were often called over to join them. Together they competed to tell the biggest lies. The Alice Springs boys loved to ask about Sundown's berserker demon. Even though the very few who saw him in action didn't like talking about it, Halo sure did.

  One night Luke mentioned how Arthur had been shot and blown up twice in Adelaide while fighting the terrorists. For a while, the attention shifted away from Halo, but it turned out he and Pedro were more than happy to bring him into the fold.

  “Arty, why didn't you guys use rifles? Surely there were plenty out there in the shops and from dead Revelationists?” asked Halo.

  Arthur and Heidi didn't like talking about those times, they were times of paralysing fear. It was a terror that couldn't be shared with another, not even each other.

  “Halo, we had to hide, like rats, in the houses where they couldn't find us. They ran patrols, they ruled the cities completely. There were thousands of them right on our door step. Me and my mates blew up some trucks once, that's how I met Heidi and Charlene
and nearly got them killed. Two of my friends were killed when we escaped.” He was visibly upset but continued. He wanted to tell this story, at last.

  “We had a close friend, his name was Tony. He was Lucy's husband. Tony and I went to rescue some of the prisoners the terrorists held captive. The terrorists found us and I was chased into a chemistry room. I was shot through the leg and bleeding. I left a trail of blood a blind man could follow so I had to hide somehow.” He paused while someone called out a question.

  “What sort of rifles did they have, Arty?” came a young voice from the middle of the group.

  “What? Rifles? They had AK47's like wot all the other terrorists have, ya bloody boofhead.” Pedro looked to Arthur who nodded in thanks and continued.

  “I found a hole in the floor. It must have been for chemical waste or something so I climbed down and started crawling along a tunnel. It smelled of sewerage and I nearly passed out. That's when they threw a grenade down into the tunnel. I was blown out the end of it and into a creek. It burned all my hair off, even the hair in the crack of my butt.” He smiled at last and the others joined him understanding just how much this story took out of him – except one young soldier who was always asking questions.

  That same disembodied voice called out again, “Arty, did it hurt getting blown up and all?”

  “Yes, it knocked me out and I woke up nearly drowning in the creek. When I crawled out I saw the building on fire and terrorists running around in flames. The stupid bastards blew the whole building up, and themselves with it.” He stopped when he saw Heidi cover her face with her hands and she began to cry.

  “I'm sorry guys, I can't tell you any more because that was a bad time for us. It led to Tony getting killed. I'm sorry, maybe some other time.” Everyone went quiet as he led Heidi away to their room.

  “See wot ya done, ya damn boofhead,” said Pedro as he tried to make out who it was that asked all the questions, but he couldn't find him. “Next time ya see Arthur you make sure you boys show respect. He's seen more action and shown more bravery than any of you lot. That young fella is the sort of hero Sundown's Commando need, real heroes that aren't afraid to face the enemy.” Pedro paused as he looked from face to face and started to tear up. Most of those in front of him were in their late teens and early twenties, new recruits, refugees from Darwin.

  Halo stepped in to help his mate. “And don't forget, Arthur tried to rescue his friends without a weapon. He had nothing to fight with but sheer guts. How many of you have the courage to do that?”

  It was at one of the top floor parties that Cambra asked Blondie to sit with him. Everyone knew Cambra had been badly hurt by his ex-wife and how he now steered clear of women. They also knew he genuinely cared for the two aboriginal girls, Lulu and Danni, rescued from the terrorists in the mines action, like they were his own children. Lorraine once tried to get close to him. Even Donna tried way before the apocalypse but Cambra was too badly burned to consider another relationship. Blondie though, was different, very different.

  “You want me to sit with you? Why?” the blond model asked sweetly in her best 'yeah right' voice, but when she saw Cambra wasn't flirting she stopped. “Sure,” she said. Blondie sat down with him spilling some of the drink in her hand. She had taken to drinking a lot lately. It seemed at times she couldn't get drunk enough.

  “I like you, Blondie,” Cambra said looking into her eyes. “I'm not someone who plays games, you know that. It's just that sometimes I'd like to talk, you know, with you.” Blondie saw this was not the Cambra people knew. Cambra was always the strong one, always in control.

  “Cambra, I like you. You're strong and you know who you are. I like that in people. But I don't like men, plain and simple. I don't foreplay and I don't fuck. I just kill,” she said flatly and finished her drink clinking her glass on the spirits bottle for Cambra to fill again.

  “Yeah, I know that, but you're different to people, different to everyone here. I like that in you but I see that you are slowly destroying yourself. I want to know you better and I don't mean the sharing body juices thing. I care for my friends, for Lulu and Danni and I care for you.” He finished pouring her drink and filled his own glass.

  Blondie swirled the glass in her hand. “You know what, Cambra? I like gin and this tastes surprisingly like gin. It's not real gin, it just tastes like it. I can see you as an old man one day, still playing at liking something that's not real. I'm not real. I'm poison and you really shouldn't get too close to me.”

  Cambra's brows arched upwards and his voice became harsh. “I know who I am and I think you may have once known who you were. I also know what I like and what I don't. I haven't met a girl I wanted to sleep with in ten years, maybe even longer if I think about it. I don't trust women. But I trust you.” Blondie looked at him for a second, then lazily took another gulp of her drink.

  Cambra saw her look and baulked. “And that's the last I'm ever going to speak about this subject, Blondie. I promise you I'll never come on to you and I'll never speak my mind again.” Cambra stood up, slammed his empty glass on the table and walked away. He didn't look back.

  Jaina was watching from across several groups of happy commandos and ambled slowly over to her old friend and mentor of the Tajna Sluzba. The two had worked together for several years in the Revelationist Church's secret service unit. They were now together on the other side of the fence, fighting against their former institution.

  “What the hell did you say to him, old girl? Did you tell him his dick was hanging out or something?” she asked sitting in Cambra's vacant chair helping herself to the bottle of spirits.

  Blondie didn't answer straight away, she was thinking. “Well, I didn't actually say anything but the truth and sometimes that's the wrong thing to say.”

  “Tajna Sluzba never tell the truth about anything, especially themselves,” explained Jaina, as though she were addressing a student.

  “Jaina, you're wrong,” Blondie said looking down and picking at her thumbnail. “When we come home from work, we should step out of our role and into our lives again. I've lived this life for so long I no longer know who I am. I'm lost, girl.” She downed the rest of her drink and clinked her glass on the bottle for Jaina to refill.

  That same night Major Lewis called Wiram on their secure line from the Birdsville outpost. The major, Captain Walker and Wiram swapped shifts every few weeks between the palace and Birdsville. They now had their strongest force at Birdsville, running reconnaissance and fighting patrols. They made the Marree terrorists' lives hell.

  With the fire-power of the Bushmasters and the ASLAV 25mm cannons, the commando strength was now superior to the terrorists. Sundown, Lt Colonel Thompson, Wiram and Major Lewis all agreed that they were still not in a position to push them out of Marree. The commando had their enemy where they wanted them, contained in a region they themselves controlled. Each week there was a contact and it was their policy that every soldier be blooded in action before the big push began.

  “Wirrie, I've got a bloke here and I need Riley and Roo to talk to him. He's a cattleman from the Flinders region. Bloke by the name of Jarl Horsely. He says the Wilsons' are on a rampage, with the Revelationists imprisoning the farmers they think helped Riley and Roo kill the four Wilson boys,” Major Lewis said.

  “OK, I've got that, Louie. Do you want them now or in the morning?”

  “The bloke's a mess, I don't know if he'll last till the morning. He mentioned Riley by name. Mate, I really need them here now,” replied the major, the stress in his voice was clear.

  “Right, I'll get them into a Bushmaster right now. Give them two hours and they should be with you. Is Lorraine on or Gail?”

  Major Louie Lewis rubbed his face then noticed the dried blood on his hands. He'd helped the nurses undress the cattleman when he was brought into the first aid room. “It's Gail tonight, Lorraine's been busy with Beamy and Slimmy. She's been working them hard on their physio exercises. Why?”

  “Just
thinking, Gail's the best I've seen treating gunshot wounds, besides Tricia, of course. Was he shot?” asked Wiram.

  “Not sure, I think he's been cut with a knife. It looks like he was stabbed and left to die. He's suffering dehydration and starvation. He crossed the Strzelecki Desert on horseback and the boys found him at the Coopers Creek patrol station. He's an old bloke and in a very bad way. Better tell the boys to hurry.” Major Lewis signed off and went back to sit with the brave old man.

  Wiram had the boys in the Bushmaster and gone within fifteen minutes. Bongo said he was going too, Wiram didn't stop him. The three scouts raced against time to be with one of Riley's old friends.

  This new development of the Wilsons' escalated violence needed to be conveyed to Sundown. Wiram called in their comms specialist and together they coded a message and sent it off straight away.

  While all this was going on, Halo held his audience, a new group of soldiers from Alice Springs, in an ecstatic trance as he told stories of glory to his young audience.

  “These Revelationists are absolute arse-holes. I tell you, they believe in a God but practice heathenism. They kill everyone, kids, women and they particularly hate other religions. When we were at the mines fight we saw a pit filled with the people they'd killed. There was a little kid down there, the pricks.” He rambled on, finishing his glass of home brew that one of the soldiers had running in competition with Andy's.

  “Halo, my boofheaded mate, what the hell do you know about how the Revelationists live?” said a half-tanked Fat Boy. He noticed Halo was holding on to his chair so it wouldn't fall out from under him.