The Grey Chronicles Part Two: Under Siege.

Chapter 12: The Cookie Crumbles (And So Does A Mountaintop).

Forest surrounding Baseplate Sierra, surface of Stonehaara One, August of 8096 AL.

"They need reinforcements! Cavalry unit six move in!" A voice came over the radio, breaking Salem from his stupor.

"No!" he screamed into his receiver, "They're already dead, do not send any reinforcements. Watch all directions for hostiles and shoot at anything that moves! That is an order, I repeat that is an order. Do not move in."

The radio beeped and a red light flashed, but no one spoke for a moment. After a long pause the voice replied.

"Yes sir, we will stand by for further orders."

"Roger, all mortar teams set up and load white phosphorous shells," Salem turned to his cannon gunner, "Switch to a worm shell, turn left ninety-four degrees."

His gunner nodded and turned the cannon to face the source of the gunfire. A ridge blocked the view of their target, but that wouldn't be a problem; the worm shells were made to be fired through dirt. They would penetrate several hundred feet of dirt before exploding on the opposite side of the hill, raining napalm and shrapnel on anything and anyone unlucky enough to stand in the way.

Salem depressed the switch on his receiver again. "Rhino teams four, five, and six set your aim for the second ridge on the left. Arm a worm shell and fire on my mark."

He waited, watching the second hand on his wristwatch tick-tock its way from twenty to forty. After twenty-four seconds he shouted over the radio. "All units prepare to fire, mortar teams launch two volleys all around the convoy on my shot. Aim ninety meters out, sitrep with General Harper immediately after."

Not a second after he set down his receiver the gunfire stopped. After almost ten seconds of eerie silence the screaming began again. Salem's gunner shivered and shouted, which was unnecessary but welcome; it blocked out the screaming, even if just for a moment.

"Gun ready sir! Permission to fire?"

"Fire both barrels!" Salem roared, clamping his hands over his ears as the cannon boomed. The tank spit out the empty cartridge, then the second round left the second barrel. Nineteen tanks mirrored their actions; resounding booms echoed throughout the clearing and the ridge line to the left of the convoy seemed to jump several feet then collapse. The worm shells carved through it, then exploded on the other side, forty streams of hellfire ripping through the air. Almost simultaneously there was a multitude of dull thumps as mortars arced into the heavens, their smoke trails like the wings of an avenging angel. The feather tips of this angelic figure erupted fifty meters above the ground, raining the wrath of the Gods upon every inch of earth around the convoy. The hail of white-hot fire engulfed the clearing, two strips of fresh blaze springing to life among the ashes of the old.

"All units advance!" Salem screamed over the roaring of the flames, "Get us out of here, the explosions will have given away our position and we need to move. Full speed ahead, do not stop until we've reached the end of the mountain range."

All at once the convoy started moving again. The tanks led the way, rolling over anything that stood in their way. Small trees and bushes that had survived the blaze were ripped from the ground and trampled into the ashy earth. Rhino Four spearheaded the group, their cannons smashing through anything sizable that stood in their path. They cleared the way, allowing two hundred thousand soldiers to cover ground a lot more quickly than most would expect.

Salem heard gunfire and shouts from the rear of the convoy. This continued for almost a full hour and a half before the mountain chain came into view, they were pursued the entire trip. According to sitreps that Harper received very few had been hurt; with the exception of the two squadrons that were lost before the volley of mortars, no more soldiers had so much as seen their enemy. All they saw was a swarm, a black and gray mass that rose and fell from the ashes around them. The Nephilim had buried themselves in it, lying in wait for their prey. A rolling mass of screams and bloodlust chased after them, taking every bullet and cannon shell that was thrown their way as though it was nothing. They were kept at bay by the hail of lead and explosives ripping into their ranks, but they never relented their chase.