Pandora's Trials

The Battle of Iron River

Anthony, Elijah, and I all looked at each other with wide eyes for a beat, then we sprang into action. We lept out of the jeep and mere seconds later, each one of us had a long, heavy rifle in our hands. The night before, I decided after a long examination that Elijah's arm had healed enough to have the cast taken off. His arm was weak, so he supported his sniper rifle with his right hand while the left merely controlled the muzzle. I hoped he had enough strength in his left arm to hold the gun steady enough to aim accurately.

"Since when did they have bombs?" Anthony asked loudly as another explosion rang out.

"Of all of us, you'd be the one to know bud," Elijah responded.

We jogged alongside the vehicles as we crept closer to the battle. Once we

were close enough to hear individual shots, the vehicles were parked in a stand of trees and roughly covered with foliage. Most of the cars were already black, brown, and varying shades of green, so they blended in decently. The older, stronger men and women gathered as much ammunition and other supplies as possible, then we dissolved into the trees.

The scene on the other side of the small grove was nothing short of horrifying. The old dockyard's gravel was spattered with shades of red. There were old boats, shipping containers, and an old concrete building, but other than that the field was barren. On the opposite shore, the Flat-Landers had lined their armored vehicles bumper-to-bumper to provide ample cover. The ground was pocket-marked with explosion sites and dust and smoke hung heavy in the cold, rain-soaked autumn air.

"Damn. . ." Anthony muttered. I wanted to shield him from the violent scene, but I knew it wasn't my place to do so. He'd probably seen violence like this before, and he would definitely see it again.

"What do we do?" I asked Marvin, who crouched beside us.

"You three stay up here and take them out one-by-one. The rest of us will try to draw their fire and join the Iron Colony's fighters. Stay safe kids," he said before waving the others over to him and leading them through the trees towards the far end of the dockyard.

"Let's move to get closer to the river. From that point, we should be able to pick some of the cultists off," Elijah explained while straightening up and walking towards the riverbank.

The closer to the river we got, the steeper the hill we were climbing became. By the time the river appeared, we were standing on a sheer cliff that dropped down nearly forty feet into the engorged, churning river that would kill anyone who was unlucky enough to fall in. Under the cover of some bushes, Anthony and I crouched behind the trees while Elijah laid prone with his rifle on the line of Flat-Landers.

From our vantage point, I could see the dockyard that the northerners were using as cover and the opposite side of the river. Shots rang out almost constantly, as well as the occasional scream from either side.

"Can you see what's happening?" Anthony asked me.

I strained to make out the number of people who were still fighting on our side, but I couldn't quite tell.

I shook my head, "No, they're too well hidden. I just hope that—"

A deafening explosion cut me off and Anthony and I dropped to the shaking ground. The shot had taken out one of the shipping containers near the bank. I could see that someone was unlucky enough to be using that container as shelter; their blood and bits of flesh were flung into different directions. The sight made me sick, so I looked away.

"Elijah, take out whoever is blowing shit up," I said, swallowing tears and vomit.

He nodded and scanned the Flat-Landers' line.