The Battle of Zombie Hill

by Nancy Osa

  The villagers responded with shrill war whoops that bounced through the rugged terrain. Their objective was to make as much noise as possible to ensure that the griefers would see them coming.

  Turner let loose a loud, adrenaline-fueled rant, largely aimed at his nemesis. “Ready or not, Legs, here we come! I’ma tear you limb from limb from limb!” He urged Duff forward at a gallop, with Ocelot flying beside them. “No one takes over the world without Sergeant-Major Turner’s say-so!” They passed Rob and Kim on Saber and Nightwind.

  “That first shot’s mine!” Kim yelled at Turner.

  He cut her a tender look. “Can’t let you do that. Battalion Zero, this one’s for you!” He pressed Duff and Ocelot into overdrive, passing Stormie on Armor, and raced straight for the TNT trip wires.

  Down from the hills came the familiar uproar of the undead, the echoes increasing their clamor: “Uuuuh-uh-uh-uh . . . oooh-oh-oh-oh . . . !”

  Then the battalion could see the green masses sweeping across the hillside toward the traps. Ker-blammm! The first land mine exploded as Turner rushed forward to attack. Rob had no choice but to veer off to the north, leaving his sergeant major as a decoy, as he led the infantry out of trap range himself. Then the rest of the cavalry pulled even with him, making for the rendezvous with Frida.

  The villagers shouted behind them, and monsters groaned ahead. Rob rode forward in Saber’s saddle, his ears filling with the sound of clattering hooves and the huffing of horse breath as they climbed and climbed and climbed. Mid-gallop, he noticed something was missing.

  “Jools!” he called to the quartermaster, who ran beside him on Beckett. “Listen! No bones!”

  The characteristic rattle was absent from the din. The monstrous groans grew louder, accompanied by the clanking of iron.

  “Sounds like they’ve augmented their zombie forces! And they’re armored!”

  They hadn’t reckoned on this. They were riding into a melee in which their bows and arrows would be useless.

  Still, the horses climbed, nearing Frida’s hiding spot.

  “I see her!” Stormie shouted, just as Turner, Duff, and Ocelot came into view from the other route.

  Frida had torn off her griefer disguise, but had no time to wriggle into chainmail. She caught Ocelot’s reins when Turner tossed them and vaulted into the saddle the way Kim had taught her back at the ranch. The six riders pulled up to regroup while more blasts punctuated the air.

  “Vanguard!” Rob called. “Report.”

  Frida’s dark-green face shined with sweat. “Their zombie numbers are huge, and they’re heavily armed. Dirt is calling this ‘Operation Doomsday’!” She waved in one direction. “My trip wires won’t hold them off for long, Captain.” She waved the other way. “But up there’s the viewpoint you were looking for.”

  Rob caught his breath, surveying the area. Hand-to-hand combat would be deadly here, where the steep terraces provided no cover and greater risk of falling. They might be able to hold the hilltop, but getting there would be nearly impossible.

  On came the enemy troops across the slope, with Dr. Dirt’s unmistakable screech echoing behind them. “Battalion . . . Zero-oh-oh . . . ! This—is your day . . . to die-ie-ie!”

  A swarm of zombies hurtled at the group. “Battalion: Attack!” Rob cried, sending Saber forward.

  Turner pulled his sword out and savagely hacked at the moving undead. With their protective gear, it took blow after blow to slow them, let alone subdue them. Stormie, Kim, and Jools followed the sergeant major’s lead, slicing and dicing until they removed enough limbs to score a kill. But to Rob’s alarm, each death spawned twice or four times as many green ghouls, each one materializing fully equipped and extremely angry.

  “They’re closing in! What should we do, Captain?” Turner puffed in between passes with his blade, sending still-writhing green flesh every which way. Behind them, the villagers charged, their whoops interspersed with screams as they took hits or tumbled into the rocks.

  The smart thing to do would be to ride down toward a clearing or to an area where they could lure the zombies over a cliff. If they did that, though, they might never make it back up to the viewpoint Frida had located. Rob felt torn in two. One part of him was committed to the safety and success of the battalion, the other was stubbornly determined to find his way home. He knew what he should do. . . .

  “Battalion, to that hilltop. Follow me!” He clapped his heels against Saber’s sides and sent him scrabbling for the viewpoint.

  *

  Fortunately, the climb slowed the zombies’ advance and was too steep for baby zombies or chicken jockeys to attempt. The villagers’ third squadron used their stone and iron axes to mow the chicken jockeys down like weeds, while the second unit tried to hold off the larger monsters with their swords. Meanwhile, the first squadron and Rob’s cavalry guard found themselves only able to flee toward high ground—their arrows could not penetrate the undead’s body armor.

  “This ain’t how I pictured it, Captain!” Stormie called through gritted teeth as Armor tore up the hillside, leaving the odor of rotting flesh below them.

  “Nothing’s for certain in war time,” Rob answered.

  A chorus of screams rose behind them as the onrushing mob overcame a cluster of villagers, some of them becoming zombies and turning on their own squadron.

  Frida threw a desperate glance over her shoulder, and Ocelot hesitated.

  “Keep going!” Jools yelled. “It’s our only chance.”

  All of a sudden an amplified voice addressed them from the high end of the scale. “Battalion . . . Zero! Hope you . . . admire . . . the view!” And Dr. Dirt unleashed a hideous cackle.

  From their greater elevation, they could see more villagers being taken down by decomposing green limbs.

  “Cap’n!” Turner shoved Duff over toward Saber. “My men are taking an awful beating.”

  “And this hillside is unstable,” Kim added. “The horses could lose their footing at any moment!”

  But it was too late to alter their course. The only way to succeed now—and to get a clear view of the horizon—would be to amass all their power on the hilltop and battle their way back through Dirt’s ranks.

  Rob ignored Turner and Kim and galloped on. His enhanced night vision now matched the horses’ normal eyesight in low light. He and Saber twisted and turned as one, navigating the hillside terraces like reverse moguls. They finally burst above the tree line, onto an open plateau, gasping for breath in the clear air. If Frida was right, Rob would be able to see all the way across four biomes and out to sea.

  Just as he drew Saber to a halt to get his bearings, another ominous noise brought his body to attention. The rhythmic clack of marching bones approached, sounding like a hundred men shaking bags of bricks. Now the skelemobs are out? Rob thought, realizing his earlier assumption about Dr. Dirt’s plan was wrong.

  As if on cue, the evil griefer commander stepped out into the open among his undead troops and barked into his redstone-powered megaphone: “And this . . . I must see . . . for myself!”

  “Rob!” Turner motioned with his chin in the doctor’s direction.

  “I’m on it!” Rob yelled, reining Saber off to the side. With his super night vision, Rob drilled his gaze at Dr. Dirt, and the horse instantly knew where his rider wanted him to go. But four diamond-armored zombies guarded the griefer.

  It was time to fight fire with . . . hotter fire. Trusting Saber to continue to charge, Rob rooted about in his inventory, finally producing one of the enchanted golden apples that Colonel M had crafted. When he drew his sword, it achieved Overpowered status. Anything he touched with it would instantly die!

  He and Saber bore down on the knot of fortified zombies, which snarled and waved, dropping limbs and chunks of flesh. Believing himself safe, their commander stood calmly behind them.

  “So! Cap-tain!” Dirt yelled. “We . . . meet . . . a . . .”

  At Rob’s nudge, Saber collected himself and sprang, cl
earing the zombies with his leap and landing so close to Dr. Dirt that the griefer’s wide, black eyes looked like obsidian blocks. One downward slash was all it took to split the griefer squarely in two.

  As the halves of Dr. Dirt fell sideways, Rob finished, “We meet again.” He pulled Saber back a step to feast his eyes on the already-decaying lumps. “Only this time,” Rob growled, “you’re dead!”

  His victory was short-lived. Over the sharp rise swarmed a jittering line of armored skeletons. He wheeled Saber and headed back to his mounted unit, accompanied by recognizable shouts from Legs and another raspy voice that they had not heard in quite some time.

  “Battalion Zero!” came the rumbling call. “Your pitiful efforts have made me stronger!”

  Frida threw a frightened glance at Turner. Kim and Jools exchanged stares.

  “Who is it?” Rob called to Stormie.

  “It . . . can’t be. But it is!” she said. “It’s Lady Craven!”

  The griefer sorceress was hidden by a wall of oncoming skeletons, their helmeted skulls bobbing hideously.

  “I told you I could not be killed!” Lady Craven declared. “I gain health from every one of my legions that you vanquish, and Dr. Dirt was worth more than the rest put together. Now you will never stop me from overtaking the Overworld.”

  “Then you shoulda sent more at us than a bunch of fall-apart zombies!” Turner taunted.

  “This is their hill,” Lady Craven shouted. “They wear enchanted diamond armor, and their skeletons will kill any one of you that challenges their sovereignty.”

  “I think she’s bluffing,” whispered Stormie.

  “Me, too!” yelled Kim, launching Nightwind at the approaching skelemob.

  Stormie took off after her, drawing her bow and preparing to give cover.

  Just then, three skeleton snipers let fly three arrows, which by very steep odds, hit their mark. That mark was Stormie.

  The triad of arrows lodged together in the adventurer’s throat, knocking her off Armor. She hit the ground hard and rolled out of the way of Nightwind’s hooves. Rob and Turner reached her first, followed closely by Jools and Frida. Kim pulled up and doubled back just in time to see Rob jump from Saber and take Stormie in his arms.

  Frida and Turner pulled their bows and held off the skeletons. Rob’s face froze as he watched blood pour from Stormie’s throat, the light in her night-visioned eyes fading.

  “We . . . can’t win, Captain,” Stormie whispered. “I . . . tried.”

  “Stormie, hold on,” Rob willed her. “Jools! Don’t you have something—?”

  But Stormie’s health bar was dwindling.

  “Rob . . .”

  “Ssh! Save your strength!”

  “. . . promise me . . .”

  “Anything, Stormie.”

  She clutched at his arm. “Promise you’ll . . . go now. S-surrender . . .”

  He shook his head fiercely.

  “You . . . must,” she implored him. “Live to fight . . . another day.” She hiccuped.

  He shook his head hopelessly.

  She was gone.

  “Hold ’em off, Jools!” Turner threw Jools his bow and jumped down from Duff, but he was too late.

  The mercenary reached over and felt Stormie’s neck for a pulse, then let go. He gently removed the arrows that had caused the fatal blow, shooting a stricken look at his captain. “These . . . these was mine.” He held out the finely fletched arrows that must have been retrieved by the skeleton archers.

  Again, Lady Craven’s voice fell upon their ears like the rumble of loose cannons: “We have you surrounded, Battalion Zero! Give up!”

  *

  “It should’ve been me!” Kim said tearfully to her compatriots.

  “Or me,” Turner whispered gruffly.

  Rob had gone cold inside. It had been his choice that led them into this mess. His choice that got Stormie—

  Her words floated back to him. Threatening moans and creaking bones ringed the small battalion in a sea of hostility. The innocent villagers faced similar peril a short way down the hillside. All would be lost if Rob didn’t take Stormie’s advice.

  He drew a deep breath. “Corporal! Sound the retreat.”

  Kim rose to comply, but Turner put out a hand. “I’ll do it,” he said. He gave three long whoops and two short ones, waited a moment, and repeated the call. A relieved cry rose from the released villagers, and the cavalry officers heard them crashing down the hillside as fast as they could run.

  “But . . . where do we go?” Kim asked.

  Rob didn’t have an answer. He glanced at Jools, but the quartermaster shrugged.

  Frida hadn’t been a survivalist all her life for nothing. Although the loss of her friend was destroying her inside, if they didn’t move, they’d all follow Stormie to the grave, the Void, or whatever fate awaited them.

  “This way!” she said to the group, pointing straight up to the summit.

  It was too dangerous to ask the horses to carry them. They dismounted and led them, Frida tugging the now riderless Armor upward, with the sounds of the mob not far behind them.

  “We’ll never be able to fend them off from up there,” Turner argued. “It’ll be a feeding frenzy!”

  “How do you think I found this viewpoint?” Frida countered. “I noticed it on my way to hide a Nether portal.”

  “A Nether portal!” Rob exclaimed. “I didn’t order that.”

  “For times of need,” she emphasized. “You couldn’t have known, Newbie. And if we didn’t need it, you wouldn’t have known.”

  They came upon a stone block room with an open door.

  “Surrender, Battalion Zero . . . !” Lady Craven insisted, as she and her grotesque legions came ever closer.

  “We’ll use the Nether to travel to an outpost biome,” Frida said. “Somewhere they won’t try to find us! It’s something Stormie would’ve done,” she added.

  Kim and Jools nodded. Rob could see that she was right.

  “Uh-uh!” Turner said, gripping Duff’s reins stubbornly. “I ain’t the type to give in. I’ll fight to the death!”

  Rob eyed the mercenary and realized he had two choices: give him an order, or make him want to follow one.

  “I hear there’s money to be made in the ice plains. Outlaws with big loot that needs guarding . . . or borrowing.”

  Jools recognized his captain’s tactic. “And not much chance of getting caught, either.”

  This interested Turner, but he cocked his head at the enemy lines. “My friend, Legs, has a date with destiny,” he growled.

  Frida caught his elbow. “He’s under Lady Craven’s wing now, Meat. And she’s got all of Dr. Dirt’s power, plus her own.”

  This, Turner couldn’t deny.

  Softly, Rob said, “Don’t think of it as retreating. Think of it as regrouping. We’ll make some money, reorganize, and ride on those griefers again.”

  Kim pressed her lips together. “I’m not giving up.”

  “Neither am I!” Rob said, and Jools and Frida nodded. “We’ll—” His voice broke. “—live to fight another day.” He dropped his gaze to stare at the ground.

  For a moment, no one said anything.

  “Well . . .” Turner offered. “If you put it that way . . .”

  The ear-splitting shrieks, groans, and rattles meant that the zombies and their protectors were almost upon them.

  “Come on!” Frida urged, and they entered the stone enclosure that held the Nether portal, pulling their horses along.

  In his desperation, Rob felt one ray of hope. As long as his heart was still beating, he still had a chance to make it home. But now the needs of the many outweighed his greatest desire, to see his ranch again. He knew that to get there, he would have to liberate this world first.

  BATTALION ZERO’S ADVENTURES CONTINUE IN

  BATALLION BANISHED

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