Heaven And Hell

The First Assault

Kolgod walked alongside the wall, his Bug Out Box vertical on his back. Vinur was on his left hip while the Desert Eagle that he got from John rested on his right hip. As he walked, one hand rested on his holster while the other rested on Vinur's handle. He had learned how to draw Vinur at the lengths necessary, from just a few chips of metal for practical uses such as a knife to cut things open or cut rope, to a full length blade for combat.

He'd also learned how to add or subtract chips from the overall length, each individual piece of metal fitting together like a puzzle in the scabbard. Vinur's own energy radiated gently from the scabbard, a gentle and constant hum of red.

The blade itself was glad to finally be used in combat, sometimes outright refusing to return to its scabbard before tasting blood. The horn that was the handle caused this part of its personality, as the handle was made of shed horn from the single demon that resided on the ninth level of hell.

Patrols were heavy tonight, as the SR-71 had reported back to base with news of a large force of demons crossing the land, heading in the general direction of the settlement. It was unknown if they had a specific goal in mind or if they were just roaming, but nobody wanted to take any chances. Quite a few men and women had passed from a wave of disease that had come through in recent weeks, along with some children, knocking their population from 350 back down to 261.

Kolgod slowly drifted off into his own thoughts, doing nothing but exploring his own conscience.

Until something moved out of the corner of his eye.

He immediately looked over to the C-RAM. It was tracking something.

"Relax," John spoke from behind him, putting a hand on Kolgod's shoulder. "It's their routine cycle. Making sure all the servos and hydraulics work."

Kolgod slowly allowed himself to relax. "Sorry. Too much caffeine mixed with being overtired..."

John simply nodded and looked out over the empty and barren landscape, seeing nothing but rolling waves of sand like stagnant water, and the occasional shack or shed roof, disappearing below the sand as quickly as it had appeared. The wind was high tonight.

Perfect for an ambush, if any demon were crazy enough to walk through it all. They'd be buried every time the wind picked up, and if they weren't careful, any time could be their last.

"I just worry. Once the C-RAMs went up, the aerial recon went down. They have to be planning something." Kolgod spoke, pulling a walkie talkie from his pocket. "Kolgod to command, how copy? Over."

Tucker came back over the radio. "Loud and clear Kolgod. What's Up? Over."

"Other than the sky, nothing, but it's a prime night for a wave. Everyone's guard is down with the way things are looking outside the walls, but that might be what they're waiting for. What do you think? Over."

John sat down and posted his M249 on the wall, bipod down for stability but not aiming down his sights, letting his stock rest between his crossed legs, just resting his arms and legs for a moment.

"Good point. What do you think we should do? Over."

Kolgod thought a while before responding. "Double the guard on the generators and propane tanks, and give them ballistic shields. Have someone come through with a round of caffeine for all of us as well, it'll wake everyone up and keep them going. It's gonna be a long night.... Over."

Tucker nodded and signaled someone to go tell people to get moving and someone else to hand out caffeine. "On it. Keep up watch, I'll tell the birds to warm their wings and go make sure the runways are clear. Over and out."

Kolgod returned his walkie to his pocket and stretched, cracking his knuckles over his head, turning to John when he heard his voice.

"I think you're right, there's something out there, but I don't think they dare come closer. Look at the C-RAM. It's stopped moving, but it's facing in a different direction than when it's deactivated....." John spoke, trying to find what the C-RAM is looking at in the empty dark beyond his own sights and residual glow from the base.

Kolgod turned to someone on the ground within the walls and told them to go and get the planes in the air.

Kolgod had barely finished his sentence when the C-RAM roared to life, ripping through the dark with bright green tracers, almost blinding when you mixed the neon with the muzzle flash. John had to cover his eyes a little, already wearing ear protection, while Kolgod's more sensitive eyes made it near impossible for him to see anything, and he had to protect his ears from the sudden sounds until he could adjust his own hearing.

He heard the floodlights come on with a deep and distant Chunk-GUNK, and was finally able to open his eyes and take his hands from his ears, the floodlights helping him adjust to the muzzle flash of the C-RAM's bursts and he had managed to adjust his ears to the sound of gunfire. With the floodlights on, he saw the horde of imps, and he knew immediately what their target was because of their location. Fuel tanks, generators, and anything else they can damage.

Rin's MG338 slammed down on it's bipod next to Kolgod, the sudden rhythm of gunfire from the 2 LMG's slotting together into one, the 5.56 from the M249 quiet, almost as if there was a silencer on the end of the barrel, compared to the loud beat of the .338 Norma Magnum.

Kolgod drew Vinur and his Desert Eagle, leaping into the fray and sending chips of Vinur through the torsos and throats of the Demons, putting rounds of .50 AE through the skulls of the demons that had gotten too close for comfort. Vinur slammed back together completely when the Desert Eagle had run out of ammo, but Kolgod never got to use the full blade. The XH558 howled over and dropped its payload on the demons that were farther back from base to minimize fragmentation damage to the walls. The Stuka attempted its nosedive, the engines screaming loudly.

Fireballs started peppering the plane, and some managed to make their way into the air intake. Flames burst out around the propeller and the Stuka pulled up sharply, the Corruption's survival instinct taking over, dropping the bombs to lighten the load and heading for the runway as fast as the damaged engine would allow.

The A10's gun rang out, wiping clean the sands below. Limbs of Demons strewn about, the red sands darkened with the black blood. Immediately after, the A-10 joined the bomber down the runway, heading fast to check on the Stuka.

Tucker and a few other technicians were spraying the Stuka with water and extinguishers, putting out the fire, but it was too late. The heat of the fire had killed the main organism of the Corruption, the Stuka reverting back to a simple plane, filled with disgustingly human-like meat, the engine too damaged to ever run again.

The A-10 and the Bomber shut down completely, barely allowing the technicians to open their fuel and munitions intake doors.