After our little stop was finished we split up into our fire teams and started to climb up the ridgeline. Like the rest of our trip it was a slog, our boots were filled with water and had a thick layer of mud sticking to them much like weights glued to our feet. While the mud was dragging us down our packs seemed to weigh a whole lot more for that final climb. But the top of the ridgeline didn’t offer the comfort it would seem to.

While the top of the ridgeline was more rocky thus giving us better traction, if you fell you would feel that mistake quite a bit more. Plus we had to stay out of sight while we moved atop the ridgeline. That means that we were hunched over and trying not to skyline (A skyline is the outline or shape viewed near the horizon) against the ridge as we scrambled to find a good fighting position.

After a half minute of a desperate scramble to find a decent spot, we found one. A small out cropping of boulders was hidden among a grouping of larger than average trees and thick under brush. So we began to set up under the tree leaves. First thing we did was drop our packs next to our chosen pieces of cover, next we layed down and did one final gear and radio check. After I confirmed that Alexei and Kazamir were good I radioed the others.

“This is Alpha actual to Bravo and Charlie leads, everyone good to go, over.”

“Rog Alpha actual this is Bravo lead, all of our guys are ready to go, over.”

“Alpha this is Charlie, could you wait for a few. We are still getting into position, over.”

“Roger that Charlie, Bravo stand down and wait until I give the green light.”

“I have ears Alpha, will wait on your go. out”

I let out a soft and muted chuckle at Bunden’s last reply. ‘Well, they’re not boots.’ (Boots are newly trained soldiers fresh out of boot camp hence the name) I thought as my stomach turned over with the anticipation of the oncoming battle. That feeling never went away for me. Even after several ambushes and raids, and well I guess a few skirmishes in this world too.

So in order to untangle my gut and relax a bit. I let myself slouch as I shut my eyes and just listened to the rain idly thud against my helmet and ear pro. A voice from the radio pulled me from this idling state.

“Alpha actual this is Charlie's lead, we are in position and ready to lay down some hate, over.”

“I got you Charlie lead, wait until our air support gets here, over.”

“Rog, out”

I switched channels and started speaking.

“This is Alpha actual to Tower requesting an A-10 gun run on the undead village.”

“Roger, that A-10 gun run on the way. Keep your heads down.

I had barely enough time to warn everyone via radio before the A-10 appeared over the horizon. The pouring rain seemed to fade away as the metal bird screamed toward the little valley village. I looked up at the gleaming plane with aw as it circled once then banked low into a dive.

“This is Warlock, gun runs comin’, bring in the bird.”

The 30mm autocannon rounds ripped through the village as if it was a local earthquake. The cannon rounds made a sound like rapid clusters of firecrackers but infinitely louder.

A half second after the shells had hit their mark we all heard the signature BRRRRRRRT of the A-10’s Avenger cannon announcing it’s destructive power to any survivors. The A-10 pulled up and out of its dive. A particularly sharp-sighted person may have been able to see the several 500-pound bombs the A-10 left as a parting gift detach from the aircraft and hurtle towards the ground, ending in 15 feet (4.5 meter) wide fireballs. The air seemed to be alive with small metal fragments going every which way. Thuding into trees, crashing against rock, and burying itself into flesh and bone.

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The shock waves of the high explosive seemed to combine to create one last fuck you to anyone still alive. It shook the water off tree leaves causing a short resuming of the monsoon from earlier.

“They are now a bunch of tiny little pieces. Alrighty then, I’m all out so I’m RTB. you guys stay alive down there. Warlock out.”

“Alright everyone open up if you got targets.”

I spoke on my radio even though I could barely hear myself. It only took a few seconds of silence before someone spoke up.

“Anyone got a visual?”

The polish voice of Les asked. A round of Na’s and I don’t see shit spewed from the radio as the expected horde of zombies failed to materialize. I swore under my breath before I started speaking over the radio.

“Alpha and Charlie are going to go down and make sure everything is dead. Bravo, keep your MG up and give us some cover as we move.”

Two “Roger that” was their replies.

“Alright on my mark.”

I got to my knees and whispered “Fix bayonets” like a prayer. I took a long and deep breath to steady my resolve.

“Mark,”

I exploded from my crouching position into a full-on sprint down the ridgeline. While my body moved my eyes were scanning the opposite ridgeline for any movement or weapons fire. When we were just about 3 quarters of the way down, I could see something on the opposing ridgeline burst into flames and then get launched in our direction in a parabolic arc.

I screamed “Artillery!” into the radio then dove to the ground. A half second later a shock wave seemed to slam against me like a heavy wind followed by a hail of rocks and clumps of dirt. During this whole terrifying life experience, I could feel myself starting to slip down the hill as the muddy soup that I was laying in acted as a slide.

I couldn’t regain my bearings in time to stop myself so I started sliding down, face-first into a zombie-infested village. Despite how bad that sounded I didn’t mind it all that much after I rolled onto my back instead of sliding on my face. The occasional rock made me regret my life choices but there was not a whole lot I could do about that.

While I was having my little slip-and-slide adventure, Walther’s MG3 was buzzing with the sound of gunfire as Walther was being a little more liberal with the trigger than supply officers back on earth would have liked. But, the oppressive amount of lead bursting from the machine gun was doing what it was supposed to, suppressing the shit out of anyone in that general direction.

My slippery adventure came to an end at the bottom of the valley. I staggered to my feet just in time for someone to shout “Incoming,” over the radio. Of course, I flung myself back to the ground in time to get covered with another rain of mud as the fireball slammed into the hillside. I didn’t even try to stand up after that. I just scrambled on my hands and knees to the nearest form of cover I could find.

Which funnily enough turned out to be the remains of an outhouse. The outhouse had been the size of a portapotty but made of wood, the gun run and subsequent bombing had shattered it into a pile of wood and shit. I was now quite literally, in the shit but that wouldn’t stop me from fighting. So I raised my rifle and started shooting. Not more than three rounds into my mag I heard a click from my AR instead of a bang.

Hard training kicked in before my conscious mind registered the jam. I laid down and swung my mud-encrusted rifle over to expose the ejection port with the jammed round sticking out. In order to clear the jam and get back to putting holes in anything that moved, I moved a hand away from the handguard and used it to pull back the charging handle. Then I jerked the whole rifle to the right throwing the spent piece of brass into the mud.

My eyes tracked the spinning, glimmering piece of brass as it fell into the mud. Only for a boot to smash it into the ground. I looked up and saw the boot’s owner Alexei dive into cover next to me in time to get covered in another layer of dirt from a close miss by one of those fireball things.

“Quite a shity spot you have here Yankee, how about we change that.”

I let a small smirk cross my face at Alexei’s observation.

“Ladies first Russki.”

God must have had a laugh at our faces when Kazamir came rolling in between us. Kazamir seeing my “graceful” tumble down the ridge line he decided to follow my lead. He must have had a much rougher ride down because instead of getting up, he just laid there groaning.

“You have all your pieces Kaz?”

I asked the groaning pile of mud and meat at my feet.

“Everything hurts… so much. I can’t…”

He was interrupted by a rotting hand bursting from the ground behind him.