TONY CROSS – Turkey-Syrian Border
Choppers buzzed overhead like a flock of giant birds—ones made of metal and armed with heat-seeking missiles. The air was so disturbed that walking through it was like navigating the centre of a whirlwind. Tony had to stop several times to wipe mud and grass from his eyes, and either side of him men and women from all nations did the same. German flag patches joined French, Turkish, Syrian, Iranian, Israeli, and dozens more. All of the armed forces stationed in Turkey had rallied, and now marched upon mankind’s first universal foe. No longer would men fight amongst themselves over things so trivial as religion or pride. The hour to pull together as a species had arrived, and Tony was proud to be a part of the movement.
He and some other British soldiers had worked with a captured group of Syrian rebels—terrorists—and succeeded in closing one of the infernal gates in the desert. Enemies had become allies, and together they had found enough strength to strike a blow to their adversary.
Ahead, lay mankind’s new enemy.
The shimmering gate towered twenty feet above the ground eighty miles from Istanbul. Monsters poured out of it like bile, tearing apart the landscape and littering it with human corpses. The enemy’s attacks had taken the world by surprise, as no one could have expected a worldwide, simultaneous attack from an alien force. It had been a bloodbath beyond comprehension. The monsters had gotten things all their own way so far, but that was about to change.
Mankind was not about to lie down.
The first line of choppers unleashed hellfire upon the enemy. The roaring impact shook the earth, sending dark clouds across the land. Rocks and dirt rained down from the heavens. And blood too. The end of the world or just plain old war? It was impossible to see the enemy death toll at the moment of impact, but once the smoke began to clear, a mountain of limbs and guts piled up before the gate. Blood and intestines slid down into newly-formed craters. Those enemies left alive staggered about in shock. To see a monster scared was empowering.
The allied soldiers released a triumphant cry and threw themselves into battle.
Tony loosed round after round at twisted, burnt monsters spilling out of Hell itself. His aim was honed, and his bullets took apart skulls and rib cages with lethal rhythm. He was fury at the end of a high powered rifle, and would see his enemy bleed long into the night. Beside him, brothers and sisters did the same. The chance to fight back, even when things seemed hopelessly lost, was enough to keep the human spirit aflame. The wanton slaughter had evolved into a war. The victims had become soldiers. The only question now was if enough people realised they were fighters now whether they liked it or not.
Tony lobbed a grenade at a pack of monsters and grinned as they disappeared in a sudden cloud of black and grey. No longer afraid, he got close enough to impale a demon on the end of his bayonet. He used his foot to kick the wretched bastard away.
A group of Russian Spetnaz entered the fray with hulking shotguns, splitting enemy bodies in two with explosive buckshot. The soldiers’ red bandanas flapped behind their heads as they spun with brutal efficiency.
A French lady, donning a sky-blue UN beret, fired at the gate with twin pistols, more like a courageous videogame character than a trained soldier. Tony was sad to see her fall when an abomination tore out her stomach.
More soldiers quickly fell, but nobody fell back. It was too late for retreat. Now or never. Tony threw another grenade and kept pace with his roaring comrades. Istanbul was on fire, filled with horrors, but they were facing it together. This was war.
The last war mankind would ever see.
