by Oliver Tuson
He checked his watch once more, then nudged Frost who was lying next to him. He looked back at Dove and Jackson. The other two members of alpha team meeting his gaze, already expecting his command to move. “Let's go!” he whispered as he stood up whilst raising his weapon to his shoulder. He started slowly. Creeping towards the first building whilst the rest of alpha team fanned out creating a nice tactical gap between each member.
They crept forward, listening out for any sign of life, eyes darting from building to building. The flies kept up too, Millerchip thought with anger as blinked another one out of his eyes. He reached the first building and silently moved to the corner and dropped to one knee whilst he trained his weapon up the dusty track towards the hill. He waited there for a few moments. Eyes darting from doors and windows of all the buildings he could see. Looking for any threats, any sign of life. But still nothing. He gave the signal for his team to close in on him. His arm circling above then tapping the top of his helmet. “On me!” he said softly to himself.
He kept searching whilst they closed in. Still nothing. It all seemed too quiet. Too still. “We have to search and clear these buildings,” he started still looking up the road. “You two take the left side.” He took his gaze off the road and indicated at Jackson and Dove who nodded in return. “We got right,” he said to Frost. “Remember, this is a recon op. Search for intel. You come across any enemies. Do not engage unless under direct threat.” He looked in each soldiers' eyes to hit the message home. “Good. Let's stay in sight of each other. Both do a building each then move up.” He gave a thumbs up before nodding the sign to move.
He watched as Jackson and Dove crossed the track and entered their first building slowly and cautiously. He glanced up at the top of the hill and wondered if bravo had seen them, then turned and followed Frost into their first building to investigate.
He went through the unlocked door and emerged into a small single room. His eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darker surrounding. A kitchen area in the corner complete with table and chairs. It had been used recently. Dirty dishes lay in the sink along with signs someone had cooked a meal. A small coffee table was by the sofa the other side of the room with a half drank glass of water resting on it. Millerchip had a sudden feeling they weren’t alone. This building was still in use. Ahmed may well have been right.
He moved around the room checking corners, looking over the sights of his assault rifle as he went. Nothing. Stairs ran up the back wall. Frost was there, weapon trained up the wooden staircase. He moved up behind him and gave him a double tap on the shoulder, sending him moving up. The old wood creaked in protest as both men travelled up it and emerged into a bedroom the same size as the floor below.
“Fuck…” Frost muttered as he took in the sight. A suitcase was open on the bed, clothes lay around it half packed. More on the floor. Then there was the blood. A lot of blood. Millerchip had seen a lot of battle injuries in his time, all with a lot of blood. But never like this. It was splattered on the walls and the ceiling. It covered the bed, clothes and suitcase then pooled on the floor.
More flies buzzed around the room making the most of the free meal of blood. It was like a horror film, he thought to himself as the smell of the congealed fluid hit him. The heat made it worse, acting as a catalyst. Across the room was a door to a bathroom. He nodded to Frost to move up and check it whilst he covered him. Frost crept forward, weapon trained on the door. He tried unsuccessful to not step in the bloody mess. The congealed fluid stuck to his boots like glue. His footprints following him in the blood. Reaching the door, he quickly darted in only to return a moment later. “Clear,” he whispered.
Millerchip approached the largest pool of blood. Dried and cracking around the outsides, still slightly moist in the middle parts. It had been here a while he thought. But no body? Someone looked like they had been packing in a rush. He looked at the clothes. They looked western. Not like the clothing of locals of an Iraqi village all the way out here. Branded trousers and shirts. Like that of a regular office worker in London. Millerchip couldn’t work it out.
“What do you think boss?” Frost’s voice sounded a little shaky. He just shook his head in reply before heading back towards the stairs. “Come on Frosty, let's move on to the next.” Just as they approached the bottom of the stairs, Jackson’s terrified voice cut through the village, shattering the eerie silence that hung over it. “Boss! We need you… we need you now!”
Captain Richardson had made the decision to leave their observation point amongst the safety of the rocks and progress into the village to investigate. Stick to the plan he thought to himself as he had briefed his men before they moved off. Spread out in a tactical row, they approached the outskirts of the buildings with weapons raised. Cautiously looking around as they moved across the open ground.
Fifty meters from the first building, Richardson stopped and dropped to one knee. Something on the ground catching his attention. All his men instinctively followed suit and dropped down. Becoming smaller targets to any potential threats watching them from the buildings. Each solider scanning ahead through their weapon’s sights.
Richardson looked at the mass of blood before him. The red fluid soaking into the dry dirt in front of his boot, turning it into a dark brown paste. The ground had been disturbed. The marks in the sand indicating a violent struggle had occurred. “Shit!” Williams said softly as he approached his team leader to see what had stopped the man. He noticed the pool of blood had drag marks leaving it, heading towards the buildings. The blood leaving a thick trail at first, before thinning out. Both men unconsciously gripped their weapons tighter at the bloody sight.
“Come on, let's move up,” he whispered to Williams as they both crept forward investigating the scene further. The other two members of the team rose up and advanced alongside them. Richardson kept going, looking down at the drag marks. Whatever had died out here had been dragged back into the village. He concentrated his gaze down at the sand, noticing something familiar. Then it hit him. Footprints. Only they were leaving the village. Spaced out as if they had been running. No, sprinting, before disappearing into the pool of blood. Then drag marks back.
“Boss… look at that. What is it?” Williams pointed towards another set of imprints on the dusty ground. Much larger than a footprint, running alongside the drag marks towards the village.
“Holy shit…!” Richardson started as he began to understand the pattern of events that had occurred before him. Only he was cut off by the sound of Jackson’s terrified voice. The alpha team member’s words echoing from the far side of the buildings. “Charlie team, move!” He ordered as he broke into a run towards the village and alpha team.
As Millerchip hurriedly exited the building he could see Jackson and Dove stood outside the opposite building. Dove was bent over vomiting on to the sand. His face ashen and hands shakily trying to hold himself up against the wooden wall. Jackson was now silent but looked equally as distressed.
Millerchip’s stomach tightened as he sensed the worst. “What….?” He began to speak whilst crossing over the track towards the men, when the smell hit him hard making him gag on his words. Jackson shook his head as if to say don’t speak and gestured into the building. The smell increased as he got closer and pushed the wooden door open some more. Weapon half raised, the sickly smell instantly becoming overpowering as he stepped inside. Then he saw it.
Piles of dead bodies filled the room. All at twisted angles as if they had been thrown on with no regard for dignity. Blood leaked from the mounds of death, pooling around the floor. Some of the bodies were missing limbs, which were cast elsewhere on the piles. The body closest to Millerchip lay on its front. Half hanging out from the pile of death. The legs trapped under the mountain of flesh. Slash marks run down its back revealing the white bone of the spine and ribs. Its arm was torn off at the elbow. The head only just attached to the body by thin threads of skin and muscle. The rest of the bodies were in an equal sate of mutilati
on. Each with horrific claw and teeth marks covering the decimated bodies. A dark cloud of flies crawled and hovered over the deathly mounds giving the impression they were moving slightly.
“Holy shit!” MIllerchip whispered to himself, almost frozen with dread. There must have been fifty or more in there. All twisted and piled up high towards the ceiling. The silence was shattered by a faint wet snapping noise from the body in front. The final threads of muscle finally giving in to the weight of the head that now rolled towards him across the wooden floor, stopping at his boot. The lifeless eyes stared up at the alpha leader as flies crawled across the face. Darting in and out of the mouth and across the eyes. The sight made Millerchip’s stomach turn as he stared at the head.
“Movement!” He was shaken back to reality as Dove shouted in terror from outside.
Dove watched as a patch of rock between the buildings suddenly came to life. Thick muscular back legs appearing and launching it forward. Long arms protruded suddenly from under the rock, sending razor sharp claws towards him that glistened in the sun light. From beneath the hard rocky shell a slender head emerged out, its mouth wide open displaying rows of deadly teeth and fangs that dripped hungrily with saliva.
Half confused at the sight unfolding him before him, he stumbled back whilst raising his assault rifle. He let off a quick three round burst that caught the rock-like shell causing sparks to flash off it. Terror gripped at him as his mind caught up with the shock of what he saw.
The…creature… closed the gap quickly, its claws outstretched reaching towards him. He hurriedly fired off another burst that went wide, panic making him miss the creature that now smashed into him with all its force, pinning him to the ground under its immense weight.
Dove screamed in panic and pain as the claws cut deep into his head. He tried to raise his weapon with no success, the weight of the creature trapping it between them. From between the streams of blood running over his eyes he could just make out the teeth racing towards him. The stench of rotten flesh and death on its hot rancid breath. Helplessly trapped, he closed his eyes with fear as he realised he was going to die…
As Millerchip emerged from the building, he could only watch with horror as the creature drove its teeth into Dove’s head and tore it off with ease, sending blood arching into the air. It spat the still blinking head on to the dry sand, the blood instantly soaking into it. Raising up on its hind legs, the creature gave a deafening roar that echoed through the buildings of the isolated village.
Millerchip raised his M4 and squeezed off a burst at the creature that instantly dropped down in defence. Leaning forward, dropping its head low towards its back legs whilst tucking its arms in. The creature displaying mainly its rocky shell towards the alpha leader. His rounds sparked off the rocky hide. He swore whilst adjusting his aim but before he could fire again, he caught the glimpse of movement around him. More boulders and rocks suddenly coming to life as if answering the call of the creature.
“Jesus… what the fuck are those things!” screamed Jackson as he stepped forward and opened up a stream of bullets at the creature that was about to leap into Millerchip. It stumbled slightly from the impact of the shots before turning to Jackson and sprinting forward with lightning speed. The rounds kept sparking off its shell until his weapon made a ‘click’ as the magazine emptied.
“Fuck, fuck…” he shouted whilst fearfully fumbling around in his assault vest for a new magazine. The creature grabbed his arms, pulling them helplessly to the side's whist its razor teeth tore at his throat. Blood ran down its mouth as it dropped Jackson, who now clutched at the remaining part of his throat. Blood spewing from between his fingers as the solider tried desperately to breathe and stop the blood.
Millerchip and Frost both aimed and fired in unison at the creature that stood over their dying comrade. It dropped low allowing its shell to take the brunt of the attack. More of the beasts burst towards them from the gaps in the buildings. Millerchip counted four as he pulled another magazine from his kit to reload. They were going to be slaughtered in seconds he thought as he pulled at Frost’s shoulder. “On me!” He shouted whilst half dragging the man to the door way behind them.
Both men darted back into the dark building where the bodies were piled high, slamming the wooden door and locking it as they did. The smell making them gag once again as they tried to catch their breaths. Millerchip saw a door way at the back of the room, just beyond a pile of bodies blocking the way. He threw himself onto the mound of death. The bodies, slick with blood, were sliding around underneath him as he tried desperately to get across. The movement disturbed the mass of flies that now buzzed about angrily adding to the sense of terror he felt overwhelming him. A creature smashed into the door. The door held. Just. The wood splintering at the hinges and lock.
He could feel all the blood from the various corpses seeping into his clothes. With a grunt, Millerchip rolled off the far side of the pile of death and burst through the back, just as the creatures’ massive weight shattered the door with ease on its second attempt. It stumbled into the room with a victorious roar that deafened the men trying to escape.
Frost screamed and the alpha leader spun round to see his friend gripping tightly to the door frame as the creature was perched on the pile of bloody bodies, pulling him back into the room whilst trying to maintain its balance on the slippery mass.
Millerchip raised his weapon and sent a burst of fire at it. The rounds thudding into the creature’s belly at close range. It was enough. The creature released its grip for a split second as Frost pulled himself free. As he did, the beast tried to lunge at him. Only the pile of slippery bloody bodies shifted under its weight causing the creature to fall. As it tumbled down, its outstretched claw dug into Frost’s thigh, cutting deep and sending blood flowing out. He kept pulling at the door frame and finally fell out into the bright sunlight again. Behind him the creature thrashed around getting back up.
“I got you!” Millerchip grabbed him and pulled him to his feet. Supporting the injured solider as they both turned and started to limp away.
“Alpha!” Richardson shouted as he rounded the corner of a building, almost running into him with the rest of Charlie team. “What's going…” Richardson’s voice trailed off as he saw the creature charging out of the building with lightning speed. It smashed one of charlie team’s men against a wall, tearing the head from his body with one swift savage movement of its claws.
The group of survivors opened fire at it as more creatures started emerging from the door way. Shots bounced and ricocheted off their stone shells as if the creatures had mastered a defence against their rifles. Only the narrow doorway was slowing them down. Buying the men a little time.
“Re-group! Move to bravo!” Millerchip shouted as he pointed back towards the track leading up the hill to where bravo team should be situated. He grabbed Frost, supporting the wounded man as best he could whilst running.
Then the group were sprinting, darting between the buildings and back on the track that led up towards the hill. But the creatures were in pursuit. Millerchip heard another solider scream in agony as a creature tore him apart close behind. He let go of Frost who limped on and spun around and aimed at the man's killer. But before he could fire, he felt the wind rush out of him as was smashed against a wall by another one. He was trapped. Pinned by the mass of claws and teeth trying to kill him. He tried to push the monsters head back but instantly felt a stab of pain in his left arm as it tore his flesh. He swore with rage, struggling against the solid mass. The creature’s jet-black eyes narrowed on its prey as it opened its mouth wide and gave a victorious deafening roar that vibrated through Millerchip’s skull.
He dropped his assault rifle and snatched out his pistol with his right arm, hurriedly working it up towards the belly of the beast that now moved its teeth towards him for the kill. He fired. Again and again. He felt the satisfying warm splash of blood over his hand. The creatures head went back, its teeth close enough to cut Mill
erchip’s cheeks as it howled in agony. He kept firing, kept raising the weapon up. Until it was under the beast's long jaws. An area that had no rocky hide protecting it and emptied the magazine into its head. The rounds smashing through the soft flesh into its head. The creature dropped to the ground thrashing and howling in pain.
Millerchip stumbled away gasping for breath. His left arm bleeding heavily as he tried to reload his pistol with hands that were shaking with shock and fear. “Hit them in the belly!” He screamed as loud as he could, not sure who was left to hear him as another creature suddenly crashed into him knocking him on his back.
Clarke and the rest of bravo team watched with horror as the scene below them unfolded. They were already descending the steep drop when Clarke looked down the scope of his rifle as the creature knocked Millerchip on to his back. Its huge mass pinning him down as it went in for the kill. Clarke steadied his breathing and fired a well-placed round that caught the creature in its soft throat. Blood sprayed out onto Millerchip’s face, who used the momentary pause to break free. Clarke then sent another burst of shots at it pushing it back further buying the alpha leader more time.
Clarke had never seen anything like it. The creature was like a giant lizard. But all of its top was covered in a thin layer of rocks. Like glue had been poured over it and then rolled in a gravel pit. Only from what Clarke could tell, the rocks were growing out of it. Even it’s head had a coating of smaller rocks, almost like a crown. A near perfect shell of defence and camouflage in this desert environment.
“Come on we need to get down there!” He screamed in rage at the sight of the soldiers dying. The team kept moving down the steep slope as fast as they could. Half running, half sliding down towards the track that led to the soldiers fighting for their lives. A moment later and Clarke jumped the final drop, landing heavily on the track. As he rolled to take away the impact of the jump, he suddenly released why the track appeared to suddenly spring from the hill below the step cliff edge.
