Soul at War (15 page)

"That's
what they're trying to do. They're trying to change their DNA
image. This ritual is designed to change their very structure at
the most basic level, not just physically like you would wear a
mask or grow a beard. They're changing their origin, remaking
themselves in their own image." I jabbed a finger at the coiling
DNA strand. "That alien element will be the very DNA of Rorsch
being implanted into every new-born ARC member."

“That's
just fucked up.” said Green.

“Tell me
about it.” replied the student.

“Can you
put this information on a disc?” Burns asked. “I want a copy. If we
get off this tomb world I want it taken to M.O.”

“Yes,
I'll do that now.” The student tapped away at the keys just as the
crackling digi-com burst into our ears.

"Tekoa,
Burns."

"Burns
receiving go ahead."

"Sir,
the enemy is preparing to launch a fresh assault. I think this is
it."

"Received. Stand by." I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.
Burns turned to us. "Regardless of who - or what they are, they're
hell-bent on killing us. Everybody to their posts."

CHAPTER 14

Spotlights across the length of the wall came on and lit up
what was fast being nicknamed the 'killing field'. Tekoa had been
warning the Lieutenant that a night attack was imminent from the
first day. Now that it was a reality, the battle took on a new and
more terrifying form. Darkness had always had that effect on
people, especially people thrust into a combat situation without
proper training. I had only fought in two large-scale night
assaults, though it had been my squad launching the attack - not
repelling one.

"Sir, we
have enemy units on the entire western side of the city. A large
concentration of tanks and troops have gathered in the south but
they appear to have their eyes on the hole they made in the gate,"
Tekoa said as we climbed the ladder to the western ramparts. The
lights inside the city were poor and only the odd lamp here and
there punctuated the nothingness. As we reached the top Tekoa had
to lead us to the lookout post.

"Is this
it? After what you saw in their camp, do you believe that the
entire force is here?"

"Short
of some reserves, yes I think the bulk of it is here."

"Then
they mean to finish this tonight, press the advantage of the
western breach and take the city." Burns turned to the other six of
us who had assembled there on the wall, Brand, Wulfgar, Walker,
Green, Phillips, Tekoa and myself and said, "This is it, men.
They're going to come at us with everything they've got and I can't
help but accept that they'll breach the wall again, pour in here
like ants and finish the job. But take solace in the facts - we've
dealt a crippling blow to their forces on this planet, we've forced
them to waste their men trying to take this humble city and
hopefully diverted them from whatever their main objective had been
here on Sidon. We've given them such a bloody nose they'll remember
this for centuries whether they want to or not. In my opinion you
have gone beyond the duty of any soldier and have conducted
yourselves in such a way that I feel honoured to have served along
side you. Give them no quarter when you face them. Let them work
for every inch of this city and when you finally go down, make sure
there's a hell of a lot of them piled up around you to soften your
fall." He looked around the walls, looked at the desperate faces on
the volunteers.

Finally
he cocked his rifle and turned to face the foe. "To your
stations."

*

The moon
glistened like molten silver in the clear sky. There was a chill in
the air, a cold biting breeze that sunk into my clothes and the
smell of burning metal stuck to my nostrils. The line before me,
the brave men who volunteered at the beginning were now nothing
more than terrified people clutching their half-loaded guns with
the same tenacity of a child with it's favourite teddy bear. They
shivered where they stood and their faces were lined with dry tears
as I assumed thoughts of their families in the basement of the
church had crept into their minds.

"Any
regrets, sir?" Someone asked me from the line.

"None.
You?" I replied.

"Plenty.
Things I should have done and didn't. Things I should have said but
never said."

"I just
wanted one more night with my wife," someone else said, further
down.

"I just
want to hold my son again," another added.

"Right
now I just want to see tomorrow." Another. One by one they poured
out their last requests, things they would have done had they a
little more time. But it wasn't really an issue of time, it was
that now they could see their own mortality and they realised that
they should have made the most of it when they had the chance. It
had always taken the finality of death to understand the importance
of life.

The
first wave hit the wall like a thousand hammers. Tank shells
slammed into the stone, rupturing the already brittle structure.
Siege cannons pounded the whole western flank. The very ground
beneath us shook like an earthquake. Civilian buildings collapsed.
The command centre began to shake itself apart. Troops struggled to
stand upright, grabbing hold of each other while trying to cover
their ears.

"Hold
your positions!" I yelled over the madness. Several flares from the
ARC side shot up into the air, bathing the entire city in a sickly
orange glow. Stray shells that were being shot too high over the
wall decimated buildings behind us and the men began to panic.
"STAND FAST!" I cried, just as part of the wall broke away and
three volunteers went over the edge with it. The gap was quickly
filled with a barrage of machine gun fire and two more fell into
crumpled heaps. Grenades were thrown, detonating below but making
little impact on the enemy guns. I tapped my comms.

"Shap,
Burns. We can't hold this wall!" I shouted and hoped he'd
hear.

"Burns,
Shap. Fall back to the settlements, let them in. REPEAT - fall back
to the settlements by squads."

"FALL
BACK!" I cried, grabbing shoulders and dragging them away from the
crumbling defenses. "FALL BACK TO THE SETTLEMENTS."

The men
swarmed towards the ladders as more sections of wall collapsed. ARC
didn't need the flares - the muzzle flashes from the siege cannons
were doing a good enough job of lighting up the sky. As the last of
the troops descended, a huge section of the south wall fell like a
house of cards. We could see it from where we were stood. It went
down in a brilliant burst of concentrated shellfire, taking ten of
the troops there with it.

On solid
ground we dispersed into the nearest buildings, some finding cover
behind wrecks of tractors or trailers, others climbing up into the
higher floors of the houses and poking their weapons out of the
windows. I took several men with me to a babbling stream that ran
across two farms and it served as an excellent trench, it's walls
just high enough to see over. As we settled in, the western gate
finally fell with an almighty crash. The enormous steel doors
melted apart, fusing into each other at white-hot heat and a huge
tank fitted with a ram shoved them out of its way. The tank was
instantly met by Wulfgar's team - grenades and gushes of fire from
the flame units bombarded it as ARC troops surged around its
flanks. Men burned, firing as they went down. The troops around me
gasped as Wulfgar bravely met them head on, blasting away at their
ranks with his heavy machine gun and urging his team
forward.

"Be
ready, people. It'll be our turn next," I shouted. We didn't have
to wait long. Those coming through the fallen gate broke away from
the conflict and their only escape route from Wulfgar was through
us. Forming back into a cohesive unit, they charged towards us. For
a brief moment I thought about these genetically altered people and
saw them in a different light. They didn't even look human to me
anymore.

"Ready,"
I whispered to the three beside me. Each nodded in turn. A moment
later I gave the cry and opened fire.

They
came in fast. Cutting sideways, two managed to escape the first
wave of bullets but three of their unit went down hard. The ones
behind leapt over their writhing bodies and began a vicious assault
on our trench. Dirt and clods of grass were thrown into the air,
raining down around our ears. The man to my right - a young faced
volunteer, was shoved backwards leaving a bloody vapour in his
place. The bloke next to me released a burst of automatic fire, and
then ducked down as a stray slug tore across his arm. I brought two
down with the last magazine I had in the ARC weapon, then slung it
and brought up my auto-shotgun. Blasting one and wounding another,
I clambered up out of the trench and got into a kneeling stance,
laying down a few shells as reinforcements poured in through the
breached gate. The troopers that were still alive climbed up to
join me and together we advanced across the field, reaching the
bodies of the dead ARC soldiers. I drew my knife and cut free the
webbing of one of them, throwing it back into the trench as the
trooper on my left opened fire. I managed to grab another three
before we were forced to retreat.

"You,” I
said, pointing to the man on my right. "Divvy it up between us."
The enemy was advancing again and I killed the nearest outright as
a magazine was loaded into the ARC weapon on my shoulder. Swapping
again I brought the rifle to bear as three spare mags were shoved
into my belt.

"There's
a few pineapples too, sir," he said.

"Well
keep hold of them," I said. "When I give the word, sling
'em."

Something detonated in the building next to us and one of
ours fell from the window, his body quickly peppered with rounds
even before he hit the ground. Two volunteers were fleeing the
burning shelter, but were quickly torn to shreds by a team
approaching from the north. That meant that the north wall had
fallen too and our flank was unprotected. Behind us the buildings
became more concentrated the nearer they got to the church, much
like a small village.

"Sling
those grenades, soldier. We're falling back!" I shouted. He fumbled
with the pins as I took down a stray ARC trooper, then I saw them
go one after the other. As the first one detonated I gave the order
to fall back and emptied the last of the magazine into the smoke
cloud. When the third went up, I turned and scrambled up the side
of the trench, rounds whistling past my ears. One tore at the leg
of my trousers but I reached the nearest building
unscathed.

"Covering fire. Spread out and get ready," I said, peering
round the corner. I knew they'd struggle to cross the stream and it
would buy us more time. "You three get back to the next building,"
I said, pointing to the nearest group. "The rest fall back in
pairs. GO!"

The
first ARC soldiers began to appear on our side. I crouched down and
settled into a good firing position, finger resting on the trigger
guard. It was a finely made weapon, light but robust and offered
very little recoil. I was doing my best to save the shells of the
shotgun until things got inevitably messy later on in the close
confines of the church. I tried not to dwell on that particular
thought.

Three
rounds from the ARC weapon killed the closest soldier; another two
went wide and slammed into the brickwork to the left. They dropped
to the floor firing from the ground and I gave them a short burst
before dropping back. The guy behind me took one in the chest and
collapsed, another dived down behind a low wall and didn't get back
up. As I reached a cobbled road I found myself on a street straight
out of Victorian England, but didn't have much time to look around
- the rest of my team were already on the other side ready to
fight. I sprinted across to them as the first ARC troopers caught
up.

The
street became a confined war zone with fire exchanging across the
wet cobbles. Storefronts smashed and collapsed, windows were
shattered and the gutters were awash with blood from both sides.
Some mad enough to try ran forwards and were cut down by our
concentrated fire. Others began to creep along the length of the
road, forcing us to split up and stop them from flanking
us.

"Sir,
they're thrashing us," someone said, but in the darkness I couldn't
tell who. The church was getting closer and closer, we couldn't
risk falling back too soon.

"BURNS,
SHAP," the digi-com spat, distorted and almost
inaudible.

"Shap
receiving, go ahead."

"WE HAVE
ARMOUR POURING IN THROUGH THE WEST GATE." My heart dropped into my
boots.

"Shap
received."

"What
was it, sir?" that voice asked again.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," I replied. "Prepare to fall back
to the next street."

*

The
battle was being lost quicker than we'd anticipated. Time gained
meant more time for the Avalon but as we dropped back nearer and
nearer to the church, it wasn't looking like that option was on the
cards. We were four streets from the graveyard, then another two
hundred metres to the church door. Once inside the enemy armour
would bring the place down around our ears, even if we were in the
cellar. They'd find us soon enough.