Us and Them

Battle Born

   The Prophet let out a loud whistle in the middle of camp, where over two thousand of his friends and family were gathered. Josh looked pat one of his old Bandito friends on the shoulder, yellow tape singling the handful of them left from the rest of the Army who donned black war paint on their faces and bodies. He went to stand with the others in the center of the crowd, weapons and chains clanking against each other as attention was focused on their leader.

   "For far too long has this continent of Trench lived in hopelessness and fear, which has leeched into our own deserts and cities in the American West. The Bishops have torn apart our communities in the name of conformity and obedience, destroying the individual and the pursuit of creativity. But, you and I know they do this out of fear. The enemy does nothing but hide in their power, calling themselves gods amongst men when they are only cowards! Today, we are not only fighting for our own right to exist, but every generation after us. There will be no holding back and there will be no standing still. We are going to hold onto the enemy's balls and nothing else, twisting them and kicking the fuck out of them constantly! The only plan for this war is to advance until the last brick in that wall turns to dust!"

   The clearing filled with the yells of the crowd, men pushing each other around playfully. Josh swallowed hard and looked at Andy who was egging them on. This was it, the moment he had dreaded and anticipated for so long. CC threw an arm around his shoulders, grinning at him.

   "Let's go kick some fuckin' ass!"

•••

Dozens of Watchers soared just outside of the wall, looking down at the three large groups advancing on the walls of DEMA. Clancy and Nico stood in his tower, white neon surrounding them in rigid formations.

"It seems a Bandito by the name of the Torchbearer is the antler thief. I didn't expect any of them to still exist, let alone enough of them to wage war again." Nico commented, eyes going from gold back to their empty blackness.

"From what I've been seeing, they're an outside group. Back when F.E.A.R was its own entity, this group apparently drove them out to find us." Clancy replied, seeming disinterested. "But, even if this Torchbearer has the antlers, he only knows elementary skills. I've had years to hone mine."

"I think it's time for a new ritual to be shown to you. It is a step beyond the Great Gone that only the most powerful Bishops have been able to achieve. Even if you feel you can take the Torchbearer in your current state, I do not think mercy is something you can have on a man like him. To be merciful is to show compassion and to show compassion is to be weak like The Traitor."

"I don't think there is quite a better time than the present. We only have a few hours before the rebel army is at our wall."

                                       •••

   The air reeked of death as boots sloshed in the cold mud, Josh squinting against the wind as he gripped the torch in his right hand. Dallon trudged alongside him, brows furrowed in determination as DEMA's walls grew in size. Then, there was a sudden flash of red light from Nico's tower and a crack like a lightning strike. The troops stopped and stared as the light cracked open the ground only a mile in front of them, neon gravestones of older Vialist victims turned the same red and the earth bore them back in their undead glory.

   "I don't fucking remember saying stop and stare!" Andy's distant voice echoed, the Army snapping out of it and advancing once more.

   "That's their army?" Dallon asked worriedly.

   "Don't let the number of them get to you. There's only a limited amount of time for each Vessel to be used. And as soon as we find a way in, they won't matter once we stop the ritual the Bishops use." Josh reassured, relieved that his feet were hitting solid ground once more.

   The companies split at the half mile mark, the right and left flanks taking off toward their respective positions. Josh's heart rate picked up as he found himself sprinting into the fold. He knew the entrance was just ahead to the underground tunnels, he just had to make it through the horde of zombies before him.

   Fireballs launched from the left into the enemy lines, leaving behind smudges and small craters where Vessels once stood. The smell of burning, rotten flesh would've been enough to make anyone gag but Josh was unphased. Dallon coughed beside him, shaking his head as he pushed forward with his friend. The two forces clashed, neon sparking as torches and other blunt weapons met them. Dallon used his reach to his advantage, kicking in knees with an audible crunch and delivering the final blow to the head once the enemy was off kilter. It felt strange fighting things that didn't even feel pain. It seemed they only mindlessly swung and attacked, which made it easier to justify being cruel in defense. Killing what was already dead wasn't murder.

   Josh found an opening in the fighting, grabbing Dallon's sleeve and yanking him between scuffles. He could see the hidden entrance in the wall writhing a few yards of them. Then, he saw Dallon go down in his peripheral.

   "No! Fuck!" He dropped his torch and ran to the other as the assailant pulled his neon sword from Dallon's lower back. The thing was grinning.

   "Come any closer and I end him!"

   Josh stopped in his tracks, a wave of recognition coming over him. Then, rage.

   "You undead piece of shit! He's bleeding out! Let me help him!"

   Brendon tsk'd, shaking his head. "This is war, baby! And he was mine to begin with and you should've minded your business. But, instead, you wanted to play hero and give him his freedom despite him not earning it."

   Josh's eye twitched and he looked to the neon sword pointed at the base of Dallon's skull, then to Brendon. There was no way he was faster, and he was unsure if psychokinesis would affect Brendon at all. He couldn't risk dying, either, as much as he would have liked to take Dallon's place. His hands were tied.

  "Thought so. Self preservation is ingrained in even the most stubborn. Now, go on and bring false hope to all your little friends that are counting on you. You already know this is a shot in the dark."

   Then, Brendon sunk his sword into the back of Dallon's head with a smirk. "Oops."

   Everything afterward was a blur, Josh's body running on autopilot until the moment that Brendon's already disgustingly disfigured body was unrecognizable. He found himself covered in the stench of purge fluid and pieces of rotted flesh. His knuckles were bloodied from beating on bone repeatedly. When he was finished, he looked at Dallon's lifeless body and then to the wall. He needed to make it inside the city, hundreds, if not thousands were counting on him. With a sigh, he went to retrieve his now extinguished torch and pressed on. War didn't stop just because someone died.