by John Davis
The men cheered a bit, a few even raising their rifles into the air. They had intended to stay here and defend their homes. But, after seeing the Ancients up close and knowing in their hearts an air strike had saved them, their priorities had shifted a bit.
The importance of the home they had always known, quickly took a backseat to being with the ones they loved. Homes are simply a reflection of memories made with those you care for, and so they would make new memories, and new homes, in Washington City.
“You heard the lady, get the lead out of your asses and get moving!” Jackson yelled, flexing a command that didn't exist. Still, the men moved, immediately dispersing as they pulled weapons, viable armor and even a few Ancient relics for their children.
“And somebody owes me a damn watch!” Jackson yelled loudly.
“You're such a whiner.” Alicia said with a smile of angelic fashion. The sunrise further beautifying her already perfect face.
“We've received word of your friends,” Commander Snelling said as he slowly approached the German airship that was still under heavy guard.
“Are they alright?” the highest ranking soldier asked.
“I think it would be best if you and your men came with me.” Snelling replied.
“I am under strict orders to stand guard over our German vessel at all times.” the soldier replied.
“Oh,” Commander Snelling said, turning to motion into the distant. “I doubt your standing orders are of any importance at the moment.” he added as dozens of American soldiers rushed to them with their rifles drawn.
“What is the meaning of this?” the German soldier asked loudly.
“This is American soil, you don't ask the questions here,” Snelling replied bluntly, raising a brow as he stared the soldier directly in the eyes. “Now, have your men throw down their weapons.”
“That won't be necessary,” Calypso said, approaching the group with Preacher and Certes, each holding weapons themselves.
“Calypso, what in the hell...” Snelling began to ask.
“Shut your mouth, you don't ask the questions here either. Not anymore,” Calypso replied heavy-toned. “This man is a sympathizer of the Ancients, and I have the document to prove it.”
“You have no such document! Shoot him! I want this man dead!” Commander Snelling demanded.
What he quickly discovered, however, is that his own men had a fierce allegiance to Calypso, Alicia and their group. For they had been the ones to slay Ancients in the thick of battle, not their Commander.
“Kill him I say!” Snelling yelled once more, his own men reading proof of his betrayal to the Human race.
“Commander Snelling,” Calypso said. “I am removing you from the position of Commander and placing you under immediate arrest. I will assume military command until Alicia Lucard returns.”
“Like hell you are!” Snelling interjected, though he was slowly convinced as his own men turned their weapons onto him. “This is madness!” he added.
“Indeed,” one of the German soldiers replied. “The thought of your own turning against you.”
“We are not without fault,” Preacher replied. “Nadia's name is also on that list as well.”
“Bullshit!” the German soldier replied.
“No, I have seen it with my own eyes. She tried to lead us into a trap, I was there.” Preacher said.
“And where is she now?” the German soldier asked.
Certes answered the soldier's question with a nod.
And though Commander Snelling fought a bit, his restrained hands were no match for such a numerous detail of soldiers. And so they led him to the cell in which he would be held, formerly known as DC Jail.
“Do you think Alicia and Jackson were successful?” Preacher asked as Certes rejoined the group of German soldiers at their airship.
“I do,” Calypso replied. “At least I hope so.”
“Sir, what is our next order?” the German soldier asked of their highest ranking officer.
“The darkness will not be kind to us,” Preacher replied. “We will remain here overnight and lift off for Berlin at daybreak.”
“Understood sir.” the soldier responded with loyalty.
“Double the guard detail on our city's edge,” Calypso ordered.
“Right away sir!” a Resistance soldier replied.
And as the soldier turned to double the detail of guards who protected the outskirts of their city, Calypso began to look out across the landscape.
Mountains, once beautiful with the influence of almighty God, were now war-torn and littered with signs of mortar shelling and fires. What was once a crisp breeze of nature blowing through the city streets, now reeked of dead flesh and ash.
Calyspo's wandering eyes skimmed the city behind him, noticing neon signs and hybrid cars replaced by calligraphy painted signs and carriages powered by both horse and steam. Though Humanity had withstood such a devastating barrage of attacks since Invasion Day, it had forever been changed; the memory of how things used to be, just that. A memory.
He hated the Ancients. With every speck of his very soul, he hated the race that had humbled them back to such Victorian times. And he was tired of being on the defensive. Sick of waiting for the gray-skinned bastards to strike, only to pray for their defenses to hold.
He, like many of the remaining Humans, wanted nothing short of redemption. And as he turned to glance back into the wastelands, thinking of what once was scenic land painted by the hand of God, he hoped for the return of Alicia Lucard. He knew she would have a plan.
Chapter 5
Almost there. Alicia thought as she attempted to curb her heavy breathing and push forward just a bit longer.
“Alicia,” Jackson said. “You go, I'll...” he added, cut off swiftly.
“No, you go,” she replied, her angelic voice hindered by such a small intake of oxygen. “Get them to safety. I'll be right behind.”
Jackson wanted to argue with her, wanted to plead for her to make better sense of the situation. The New Kinneston survivors were exhausted, a few even having passed out during the trip. All day, every minute of every hour they had ran for Washington City. No water breaks and no stopping.
Alicia had decided their best chance of survival was to somehow make it to Washington City in the span of only a single day. She knew the Ancients would soon have slayers of Humanity on their heels, and she was right. For nearly an hour now, the Ancients had been right behind them, murdering any survivor of New Kinneston who fell behind.
The group was exhausted, and a few of the surviving had even fallen back on purpose, choosing death over a continued journey to possible freedom. Viewing the trip as a forced death march.
Jackson wanted to plead with her heart, but they both knew there was simply not enough time. She was more skilled in fighting the Ancients, especially on foot. She would provide them all with the best chance of survival.
“You get you ass to Washington City, you understand me.” Jackson said firmly, tears filling his eyes as he wondered if this would be the last time he laid eyes upon her.
She simply nodded, her own eyes tearing heavily. Having tasked Jackson with pushing the group of survivors to sprint the hill that lay ahead, Washington City merely a hundred or so yards away from them, Alicia pulled two pistols. And as she leaned against a tree of rotted bark, Alicia closed her eyes for a moment. Remembering life before Invasion Day, while thinking of her newfound love for Jackson Ayers.
She had to live, fate had granted her no other choice. Her heart, in such a short time, had been changed for the better. She had found herself madly, deeply in love. And the Ancients had taken enough from her already. She would be damned if they took her true love as well.
As Alicia slowly opened her eyes, it was if she had been reborn. No pain, no fatigue. Simply focus piled onto the will to kill those who deserved it most. She turned slowly from the tree, firing eight shots from her right hand pistol and four from the left.
Two
Ancient soldiers lay as dead as the night winds before, victims of the first eight shots. Meanwhile, a third grimaced with pain as he crawled slowly behind a tree of his own, four shots striking him in the stomach only moments before.
It was a cold day by Human standards, the breath of Alicia nearly freezing at she exhaled softly. Pressing a single button, the expended cartridge ejected from her pistol, quickly replaced as she shoved a loaded one into the weapon of survival.
As she started back around the rotted tree which provided cover, bark flew into the frigid air, nearly a dozen Ancients having taken aim onto her location.
Alicia threw her arm around the tree, blind firing her pistol in a desperate attempt to injure any Ancients closing in. And though her bullets did strike one of the demons, he was merely hit in the upper thigh.
It was Alicia, however, that took the brunt of it. Her right hand hit with a rifle shot before she could retract it back behind cover. It passed through the webbed flesh that rested between her finger and thumb, spilling only a trickle of blood but hurting her immensely.
As she dropped the expended pistol, Alicia used her wounded hand to help guide her last remaining cartridge into the pistol still held in her left hand. As the steel of the cartridge slid into place, Alicia turned to take aim at the beasts once more.
A gripping punch from one of the Ancients, however, sent Alicia onto her back, pushing the air from her lungs in the very moment of impact with the snow-covered soil.
“She's alone!” the Ancient yelled loudly, his tone deeply infected with a slang of non-human.
“In that case we will shave the tissue from her bones,” another Ancient replied with a smile. “Slowly.”
Alicia could hear their conversation, though her eyes swelled with tears from the hard punch which had thrown her to the ground. Reaching around, she did her best to locate the pistol which had fallen from her hands only moments before, though all her hands were able to grasp hold of were twigs aproned in powdery snow.
“It will be my own sword that maims the soul from her shell of a cattle.” an Ancient said with authority.
Her time had come, and the heart inside of Alicia's chest convinced her mind that it was so. All of her slaying of the race born of stars was coming to a close as she lay here, so close to Washington City.
As the monster rared his sword up high, preparing to thrust it into the disoriented woman of such beauty, a gunshot fired loudly enough to nearly pierce her own eardrums. Her tear-filled eyes allowed her to see the shadow of such a large Ancient fall to its side, thudding heavily onto the ground beside her.
More gunshots rang out, dozens or more as she found herself giving up the attempt to count them and focusing on getting back to her feet.
As she started to get to her feet, still pushing with what little power remained in her arms, the silhouette of an Ancient once again hovered over her. Falling back to her bottom, she did her best to lift her arm in order to absorb the strikes about to come down onto her.
Instead, Certes clinched her hand and pulled her to her feet; scooping Alicia up into his arms in order to carry the disoriented vixen.
“Relax,” Certes said calmly. “You are among friends.”
Her heart exploded with emotion, having only dealt with certain death just moments before. She had greatly misjudged Certes, seeing only his race and not the true intentions of the warrior within him.
And as Certes carried Alicia quickly to the gates of Washington City, Resistance soldiers trailed behind them, exchanging gunfire with the Ancients as darkness began to set in. They had made it back, and with not a moment to spare. The Ancients were on their heels, but no match for the onslaught of gunfire spawning from the edge of Washington City; quickly forcing the sky-born warriors to back away.
Certes gently placed Alicia onto a bed, and though it was prepped for medical use, she had no intention of having her wounds tended to.
“Where is everyone? Austin?” she asked.
“Everyone else is either fighting or tending to wounded. Good job bringing so many men back to reunite with their families.” Certes replied.
“And Austin? Sheriff Garrett?” Alicia asked.
“I'm,” Certes said, taking a moment to gain his composure for her sake. “I'm afraid he did not survive. His wounds were too severe. But I have sworn to carry the Butcher's blade which slew him, and exact revenge in his name.”
The thought of Austin's death overwhelmed her a bit. A man who had finally taken a stand, finally chosen a side for the sake of his own people. He now lay dead somewhere in a thick plastic bag because of treachery by his own race.
“Where is Commander Snelling?” she finally asked.
“He is being held in the DC Jail, Calypso thought it a good idea to...” the Ancient replied, his words interrupted as Alicia stood to her feet.
“You should be resting.” Certes said.
“And soon I will be, right after Commander Snelling knows of eternal rest.” she replied.
“But Calypso thought it best...” Certes began to reply.
“Calypso is no longer in charge here. And I'll be damned if such a good-hearted Sheriff lay dead while a spineless coward lives.” Alicia said, walking out of the small house where the bed was located.
As Alicia crossed the street which was located less than a block from what had become an urban battlefield, she walked with intent. Her eyes caught sight of grieving women and children, the unlucky survivors who would never again see their man of the house. She watched several soldiers of the Resistance fall, slumping over behind the cover in front of them; each succumbing to Ancient gunfire.
And she thought of retribution. Sweet fucking retribution. Someone was going to pay for the horrors she witnessed within this moment. Ancients, perhaps their entire race one day. But on this day, Commander Snelling would answer the bell of fate.
Alicia walked into the lightly guarded DC Jail, staring at the few who remained on watch rather than fighting the gray-skinned bastards at their gates. She had planned to ask the location of their former military leader, but found there was no need. Instead, the two soldiers on watch simply pointed down one of the halls.
“Cell fourteen.” one of the men said.
As Alicia walked deeper into the hallway of such faint lighting, she approached cell fourteen.
“Alicia, thank God you've returned! Someone has to talk sense into the members of your group!” Snelling yelled.
She was without words, instead pulling one of the punishing pistols from its holster and pointing it into the direction of his face.
“What is the meaning of this? I am your direct superior!” Snelling shouted.
And though his lips uttered the words, all Alicia could see was the memory of women consoling their children, painful explanations of a father who would never return.
She fired a single bullet, the slug shiny as it seemed to glimmer a bit, almost spinning in slow motion before puncturing the forehead of such a traitor. And even as his body abruptly hit the floor, dead flesh thumping onto the unforgiving concrete, Alicia's arm remained extended, smoke trailing a bit from the end of her pistol's barrel.
She had lost one of her pistols during the battle outside the gates of Washington City. Deciding it was a different day, and knowing she would now lead the military side of the Resistance, Alicia dropped the second pistol onto the floor. Moments later, as she exited the long hallway which lead to the city streets, Alicia leaned behind the front desk and pulled a battle-ready rifle. It would serve her better in the fight to come.
“They continue to come!” one of the Resistance soldiers yelled as what remained of their first line of defense continued to get shredded with gunfire.
“Fall back two blocks,” Alicia said, approaching the soldiers with no sign of fear attached to her beautiful body. “Give the illusion that they have bested us. When they advance their forces, I will have a dozen cannons waiting to level the very ground that we stand on.”
“Yes, at
once,” the soldier said with obedience, more than glad to retreat from possible death. “Fall back men, fall back!”
And with his words, what few soldiers remained began to sprint back deeper into Washington City, several falling to their own deaths in the process.
“The Humans retreat!” an Ancient sniper proclaimed, having seen the situation through the long lens that was attached to his rifle.
“Good, now we advance swiftly and crush them!” the Templar in charge replied, a devilish grin cut into his face.
And though they did so with a bit of caution, the Ancients quickly moved their force up, hundreds of warriors taking the ground which Alicia's own feet had occupied only minutes before.
The Resistance soldiers began firing into the crowd of gray skins with their rifles. Knowing well it wouldn't drive them back, but instead, force them to hold position until a mass of soldiers could be formed. And mass they did. The Ancients quickly moved up thousands of heavily armed demons, their plan to build a spearhead of warriors and then plunge into the city.
“Fire. Fire at will!” Alicia yelled, her words barely beating the throaty sound of cannons firing behind her. There were a dozen or more of the large cannons of iron, each fed by a huge supply line of steam power. They had no need to light a fuse, the steam fed directly into a crankshaft which operated by a spinning wheel of brass.
The soldier in charge of such a massive weapon would spin the wheel, forcing the large weapon to fire a burst of life-ending lead. Then, merely seconds later, the steam fed line had readied the weapon for another shot.
It took the Ancients nearly an hour of fierce fighting to enter the city, but it took less than five minutes for them to realize defeat. They had massed their warriors for an assault, which meant mass casualties once the lead shots from such pounding cannons began exploding around them. On them.
“Retreat! The Human bastards have tricked us! Pull your warriors back before we have nothing to pull back!” The Templar yelled, unsure if his words could even be heard above the loud booms of blasting.
