War For The World

CHAPTER THIRTY

Seargent Michaels and Benson gazed up in terror at the hulking behemoth that was the Martian tripod. It roared to life as its two bulbous green eyes lit up and it cried out directly onto the castle

OOLAA

They'd moved away from the exit door in favour of the window, stopping in their tracks at the terrifying sight before them.

The giant tripod war machine had scaled down the side of the mountain and come to a rest outside the gates of the castle.

From its height, it was as if the tripod were a child, peering down into their box of toys.

"It came because of that fucking thing didn't it" Benson spat, pointing to the glowing green beacon still resting next to the beaten corpse of General Braltr.

Seargent Michaels simply nodded.

"Then why the fuck don't we give it back!"

Benson was exasperated, he was now pacing back and forth staring at the thing.

"Well?!" Benson exclaimed "Say something Searg because you've brought doom to this fucking castle and I expect you have a backup plan"

Michaels shook his head meekly. The rage had well since subsided now, leaving him with a crushing sense of guilt. He'd activated the beacon in a blind anger. Using it simply as a way to get back at the dying General. Perhaps it was an attempt to undo the wrong he'd caused Abigail, or maybe it was due to the unrelenting weight of expectations put on his shoulders by his own father. Regardless, he had made another terrible mistake, one which he would now pay for in spades.

"It cant be stopped" Michaels muttered solemnly "Once it arrives It just decimates and moves on"

Benson let out another exasperated sigh.

"Fuck"

Michaels was frozen in place. In all his long hours of service, not once had he frozen up so monumentally. The sheer alien nature of not having a plan or confidence in himself terrified him.

His father's thoughts finally began echoing through him as he watched Benson head back from the door towards where Michaels stood by the entrance.

"We need to get a move on" Michaels finally said

Benson scowled at the Seargent, however his lips were sealed tight.

"If we leave now and use the snow as cover we should"-

Too late. A bright red beam of light erupted behind them, lighting up the room as flames shot forth from the tripod and into the main camp. Screams of pain and terror began as the flames continued, licking at the brick sides of the rooms as the inner courtyard housing the prisoner camp went up in flames.

Michaels placed a hand on Benson. This was good, the Seargent recognised himself to finally be back in the driver's seat.

"Fuck that. Let's get out of here"

Dragging Benson out of the room they once more returned to that long hallway. The open archway exit was still so close, Michaels was almost hopeful they could finish off where they left off.

No luck however. Screaming Nazi soldiers were bustling and pushing past the two trying to escape through the same holy grail exit the pair had their eyes on.

"Benson!" Michaels shouted, gaining his attention through the onslaught of bodies in their way.

"Follow me!!"

The Seargent made a dash through the flood of people towards the exit. He was aware of Benson behind him, and tried to stay close by as to not lose him in the stampede. The Seargent was aware now of the experimentations done to poor Benson, he didn't expect him to be able to survive a rush of people like this.