Foundered

Jasper VIII: Battle of the Swamp

The setting of the summer sun signalled the coming of the storm, the living fidgeted around the bog, taking cover behind every small hill and log, mines hidden below soggy mud, automatic turrets hidden within bushes.

"Stay alert, soldiers," Nikola said over the radio, "they'll fall for our trap."

Jasper nodded, clutching his M416 tightly. His suit caught vibrations in the dirt, signalling the incoming hordes. Whatever happens, it happens tonight, he told himself, taking position in the clay.

Five minutes in, the first zombies appeared on the field: ghouls snarling up the road, their yellow eyes glowing like stars in the void. Regular zombies came behind, taking slow steps forward.

"Do not shoot," said the lieutenant, "let them fill the swamp first. Once the bombs have thinned the crowds out, gun them down."

The soldiers nodded, lowering their arms to watch the zombies fill the swamps.

The undead were slow, their rotten feet digging into the mud and hampering their movement, causing the other zombies to blob over, forming great heaps of corpses over the swamps. Six thousand footmen they counted: an easy target ripe for the taking.

"Bomb them!" said Nikola, calling for the planes to sweep in.

Therein lights filled the sky, three stars moved across the dark void, a screeching sound heralding them. The fighter jets had come, signalling the commencement of the attack.

But the undead were prepared; they hadn't come empty handed to the battlefield.

As the clouds parted, a shadow moved by. No, the undead knew what was coming, and they had prepared accordingly. All their faces turned to horror as the sky broke and descended: tens of thousands of gargoyles lunged and engulfed the fighter jets into clouds of flesh.

"Captain," a soldier said, his voice full of fear, "what do we do now?"

The clicking sounds and fluttering of wings dampened the whirring of engines, absorbing the blow of the impact and cancelling out the cavalry reinforcements. The soldiers looked in horror, their last hope of victory gone with the jets.

But not Jasper's, no! He was expecting this, he knew what would happen.

The gargoyles broke through the window, snarling in the most horrid manner, their goal to get to the pilots, only to discover the planes were auto-driven.

Whoever controlled the zombies looked in horror now. In an attempt to counter the trap, he had fallen into the real trap.

"Hit it!" screamed Jasper, Nikola pressed a button.

The swamp fell silent, all beings living and unliving looked up at the cloud, seeing a yellow light penetrate the girdle of night. Within moments, the sky lit up with the light of a dozen suns, almost creating a temporary day it seemed.

As the fire spread, gargoyles bumped into one another, adding tinder to the flames. The burning bodies fell from the skies, lighting the hordes afire.

"Victory!" the soldiers screamed, looking unto the horizon with joy as the fire engulfed all the dead, obliterating the horde with ease. "Primo Victoria! Primo Victoria!"

"Way to go," smiled Jasper, coming out of his hiding spot with the others, watching the zombies burn to nothingness. "General, commence the storm!"

"On it!" said Nikola, setting the mines off.

As the last zombies charged, the ground between them and the soldiers disappeared, turning into a small river, engulfing the burned bodies and washing them away. The remaining gargoyles flew away, half their ranks having been claimed as casualties. As for the ground forces – all.