Chapter 4

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After hours of slumber spent on our journey through the windy mountains and pine woods, we arrived at our destination - a grassy field in the middle of nowhere, scarcely surrounded by a few trees with no leaves, full of large, green tents of various purposes and what seemed like oversized food cans which were supposed to be barracks and host us during bad weather, or all the time. For a temporary, mobile camp, built with the help of everyone’s favorite mineral, it seemed well arranged and supplied adequately, boxes with equipment put in their places, various tools joining them not far away, hospitals and places for vehicles, even a kitchen not far away from our beds. I expected much worse - six tents and eating rats every single day. To think of it now, maybe it would have been better this way. We would not have to put up with tens, maybe hundreds of others screaming daily. Maybe I would get to sleep more hours... Like hell I would. Not in the army.

Shortly after dismounting the truck, we were shown to our new quarters, if I could call it that. I could see people finishing its construction before my own eyes. It did not spark enthusiasm as I feared the steel roof would give in eventually, but I either had to trust the engineers or sleep outside. This was not my concern for the time, however. We only got an hour of rest to get used to our surroundings before David’s foreboding words came true and we were issued our equipment, then told to go join the others in the field. Luckily, I managed to grab a bite of whatever the cooks had prepared before leaving. Did not beat a homemade meal, but I preferred it over going in with an empty stomach. Just had to hope bad food would not prove to be my downfall.

* * *

It was an early evening as we arrived on spot. It was not hard to tell this time would not be so different from the previous one - a battle raged on, evidenced by frequent distant gunshots and much more uncommon explosions. We would become a part of it soon. I hoped it would not last for long - I was not afraid of the dark, but I feared what lurked in it. Boots on the ground, we moved forward with no hesitation. I caught myself turning to Beatrice once or twice to check on her, but she seemed not to mind anything, pressing onward with an empty expression on her face. Hoped it would stay this way. I did not doubt her commitment, but I did doubt her skill and composure. We walked in relative silence for some time, disturbed only by the background sounds and our loud, irregular breathing, paying attention to our surroundings not to get ambushed. Each step through the bright dirt roads running between neglected, almost wild hedges felt heavy as our boots buried themselves in the ever twisting path. Our rifles were aimed ahead, checking for possible threats hidden in or behind the dense foliage, but we could not see anyone. It did not mean there was nobody observing us, however. There was a threat hanging in the air. Nonetheless, we pressed on. No other way, we could not back down.

Kate walked in front of me, just slightly to the right, content with the lack of a heavy backpack she used to wear previously. I could sense it even from the way she walked, not as bent over as usual with more frequent, but smaller steps. It was me who had to carry a small brick on my chest, tightly attached to me only with a sand-colored shoulder strap. I hoped she would show some appreciation for my efforts. She did not, instead turning over to Jean, letting her guard down for a moment, probably trying to cool down her nerves.

- Jean? - she asked him softly, his name sounding too similar to the nickname she gave me, alerting me as well - Why are you carrying this tube on your back? David was all about weight reduction, or so I thought.

Jean stayed silent, ignoring her provocations. Instead, George whispered something to himself, moving his shoulder to a more comfortable position. I felt I knew what he was thinking. If someone trusted Jean to carry a rocket launcher, he was either the right man to do it and we expected to see it in action, or we were desperate for a friendly fire accident. Either way, it was here to be used.

It was getting darker with each passing minute. We moved onward for a short while before reaching a sole, small building slightly uphill, painted a dirty white color with a black, steep roof and a couple narrow windows, standing not far from us. Next to it stood a small wooden shack, its door locked with a padlock, standing by a small plantation of young grapevines growing on their wooden supports, empty of their fruits this time of year. The structure was surrounded by a tall stone fence that set the boundaries for a rather large and charming estate which stood at least a mile away from the nearest town. A place I would be delighted to look at for way longer if not for a small detail which caught my eye. A large, grey cover made of cloth, which at first I believed to be protecting crates of grapes from rough weather, came off after being thrown by someone to reveal what lied beneath it. Not boxes, not even a car. A large, grey machine gun suddenly stood tall in front of us, manned by at least two people.

“Get down!” someone shouted as the emplacement opened fire, sending tens of bullets flying our way without a warning. We all hit the dirt as soon as we heard the command, only protected from the incoming hail by nothing but a small bump in the road right in front of us. They could not hit us now, thanks to it, but we could not move either, else we risked swift death. We were pinned down. I tried to think of something to silence the killing machine, but there was no good option. I could try to play hero, of course, stand up between bursts and hope to hit it before it hit me. But what were my chances? If nothing guaranteed success, then it was too risky. Fear struck me again. It was not my turn to save the situation. I saw drops of sweat run through Arthur’s cheek as he thought of our next move. He was our commander. The responsibility lied on his shoulders, he had to make something up. Yet the bullets kept flying, noise pausing irregularly, making it harder to think. But there was not enough time to doubt. Arthur moved his body slightly to his left side, glancing at all of us, before moving his hand and grabbing hold of a pineapple-shaped grenade. With a swift move, he pulled the pin before swinging his arm back, soon throwing the explosive towards the machine gun nest. A shout could be heard from their direction, one I could understand even despite not knowing their language. I laid every part of my body as close to the ground as I could before hearing the explosion go off just up the hill. Silence. Were we safe? I heard a command telling us to get up just a moment later. I had no idea if it was safe to do so. Should have I trusted it? I did not want to make that one fatal mistake, but either way, I was out of options. Either obey the order or die waiting.

I lifted myself on my knee following the others, now up on their feet. The machine gun was empty, its gunner either dead or lying on the ground. The other man was taken care of in no time, shot by someone else. We had to move quickly, get off the road. It was not safe here, even if the hill provided some protection. Getting up from my knee, I rushed forward, setting my sights on the stone wall, sticking my back to its rough, irregular texture as soon as I got there. Silence, still. Only my heartbeat and the battle raging in the distance. Grass muffled the footsteps of others as they got near, peeking their heads over the fence, resting their weapons on it. We observed the plantation for a long time, skeptical about the lack of any action. It was highly unlikely there were only two people protecting the estate. Only snipers and lovers walked as pairs. But there was nothing.

The sun set and it’s gotten dark. I could hear crickets chirping near us, lamps inside the farmhouse giving off a dim yellow light. Light. Someone was inside it if the inside was illuminated, or perhaps these two forgot to turn the gleaming off. I hoped for the latter before I noticed a shadow pass by one of the interior walls. I took aim, observing any further movement, before I felt a light tap on my left shoulder which made me turn my attention away from the scope. Our commander asked me to follow him into the building while others stood guard outside, watching the windows for any missteps of the people inside. I nodded in response and lowered my rifle, jumping over the stone fence and jogging over to the door, setting my feet beside it. I glued myself to the building with Arthur standing right in front of me, his side by the house as well. I slung the rifle on my back and carefully reached for my holster, pulled out my pistol and firmly gripped it in both of my hands. I looked ahead of me, establishing eye contact with him. He gave me a slight smile as his rifle met his shoulder.

- Ladies first? - he asked, resting his left hand and waving his fingers around.

- True gentleman, huh? - I snorted under my nose before taking a step forward and giving the door a firm kick, busting it open. After a peek inside, we entered the farmhouse, scanning for enemies, one dark room after another, barely phased by the rich furniture inside. The ground floor was empty, all lights turned off, nothing but a white mouse that made its way across the kitchen. Whoever was here spent his time upstairs. We moved towards them, step by step. I felt the danger. What if we missed something? What if someone was behind us? What if one wrong step was to become our end? We arrived by the dark, wooden stairs, a subtle light coming from the first floor. Empty. Nobody was guarding them. With my knees bent, I continued up. Still nothing, yet I noticed something. One of the doors upstairs was open, a bright light emanated from beyond it. My shoulder made its way to the thin wall right next to the half-open entrance, approaching it with caution. I felt Arthur right behind my back, keeping me safe in his own way, as he lightly tapped my shoulder. I did not feel comforted, however, the silence taking over, my heartbeat still resonating within my ears. With a step forward, I pulled the door open using my boot. As soon as I heard it creak, a shot deafened me, piercing a hole in the doorway, sending pieces of wood flying. I recoiled back, taking a step backward, tightening my grip on my weapon. That bullet went by too close. With my back to the wall again, I regained the distance I lost and fired two blind shots into the room. I heard a loud hiss followed by a subtle whimper. I looked inside, noticing a man in a gray uniform kneeling by the bed, holding a rifle pointed at the planked floor. His left hand found its way towards a wound I created by pure accident, his eyes observing it. I got lucky. He was not paying attention. I moved forward and aimed directly at his head without him noticing it. But then, something struck me. He was wounded and alone. He was not able to continue fighting. I did not have to kill him.

Stolen novel; please report.

I hesitated. I did not want to take a life of someone who meant no, or could not do harm. With another step, I entered the room, my gun still pointed at him, finger on the trigger. The old boarding gave me away, a loud noise originating from below me sounding through the densely furnished bedroom. The man heard me and instantly looked my way, alongside prying his bloodied hand off of his arm, grabbing the rifle and pointing it at me before I could react.

Shot. Sweat ran down my face as soon as I heard it, my heart having stopped. His back hit the wall and slid down as his hands dropped what he held on the floor. Another wound appeared on his torso, this time fatal. A chill went down my spine again. I turned towards the doorway to see the man who just saved me, a dim smoke escaping his weapon’s barrel. His face was filled with drops of sweat, his eyes looked straight into my soul, full of disapproval. His mouth was left hanging open for a second before he spoke to me.

- You went to check on his wounds or what? - he asked with subtle aggression in his voice. I noticed his hands shake,

- I thought-

- You thought what? - he interrupted me, his voice calm, yet reprimanding - He still held his gun, for God’s sake, of course he would shoot you! Do you have a death wish, Eliza?

- That’s irrelevant. - I answered, making my way towards him, my legs weaker than usual. - I held him at a gunpoint, why did he still try to fight? He had no chance.

- Cornered rats fight the bravest. He either gives up his life, his freedom… Or keeps them both, taking a life from another. Forget it and you will end up dead instead of them.

I could not help but disagree. My head could not understand why anyone would want to throw their life away like this. He could have lived. Maybe he was simply an exception... Or maybe Arthur was right. I hoped not.

We confirmed the house was empty after searching nearby rooms, finding nothing but dust. We walked outside in no time and rejoined the others, confirming the plantation was safe, or at least seemed to be. The full moon gleamed at us, illuminating the green leaves of the grapevines not far away. Arthur, using his newly obtained crystallic radio, contacted David to tell him of our encounter. To my surprise, it had proven to work - with even less static or disturbance than usual. Perhaps we could trust that day’s technology after all. Either way, our plan did not change - we were to meet up with the remaining teams and help them take the nearby town. We readied ourselves, taking our weapons and gear. I holstered back my pistol, unslung my rifle and put it in my hands once more. Soon after, Kate made an important observation.

- Sergeant? Any idea why they set up a checkpoint here? - she started, staring at an object I did not see earlier she had found on the ground. Arthur shook his head and approached her as she lifted a repair tool from the ground, its metallic surface reflecting the moonlight with a shine, before continuing her argument - These are tools for repairing vehicles. They were not fixing old cars, right?

As soon as she said it, I felt the ground shake a little. A distinct sound came from the direction of the garden, a loud engine giving away the presence of something ominous coming our way. Something was coming. I hastily turned over to the sound, my eyes fully open, my fingers locking themselves on the weapon I was holding. In just a moment, we saw it. The stone wall was left crumbling, pieces of debris scattering around the field. An old, but astoundingly fast tank blazed in, running over the wooden supports which held the grapevines together, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere. With a loud curse, Arthur ordered us to spread out and I did exactly, almost tripping myself on a small rock. Gunshots sounded right behind me as I slid behind the shed, the building pierced and wounded by the tank's bullets. It stopped right in front of the front door, focusing on my position. The vehicle crew knew where I was hiding. They would come to me eventually. What could I do? The only wall standing between me and them were fragile planks which built the lousy shed, hardly capable of stopping a bullet. There was nowhere to run. I had nowhere else to hide. The armor of that monster was impenetrable for me. For me…

Jean. He had the chance to destroy it with what he had. All I had to draw attention away from him, and judging by how much of it I received, I was fairly good at my job. I leaned my back against the structure, keeping a low profile, afraid of being accidentally hit. Just a little bit longer. Suddenly, the sound of the machine gun stopped. Was I no longer their target? It felt relieving. Safety, for as long as it would last. Or was it? Maybe they simply noticed someone else. It could be Jean. If they got him, it would be over for all of us. I felt it was my duty to draw them away… But what if I was hit? What if I died doing something unnecessary? In a split second, my body became paralyzed. I could not act, my heart racing madly, my irregular breath filling the air. It was then when I heard it. The engine roared again, treads cracked and wheezed, becoming louder as they rolled forward. With a new vigor, I barely got on my feet and tried to jump to my side before the shed turned into a ruin, ran over by the grey, steel beast, sending pieces of wood everywhere, tools hidden inside it bending and breaking under the tank’s weight. The impact swept me off my feet, swiftly sending me on my stomach as I hit the dirt, bruising my face and bare hands. I rolled over, now facing the vehicle which slowly turned its steel turret towards me, as I tried to quickly crawl away from my demise.

Just as I believed it was the end of my journey, a powerful blast sounded nearby, air whistled, pierced by a rocket, as the explosive hit our enemy. Pieces of wreckage flew and landed all around the burning wreck, hardly visible to the eye, even despite the bright night and newly created hot, orange fire. I held my dirtied arm in front of my face, trying to shield myself from the debris, thankfully being hit by none. I started breathing again. I lied down for a moment, observing the dancing embers, mesmerized by their beauty against the cold background of the destroyed plantation, vines creeping all over the grass, stripped off their supports. After a while, Kate approached me and extended her short arm towards me. I grabbed it, standing up, leaving a bit of dirt and blood right under her rolled-up sleeve. She did not seem to mind - or notice.

- Stupid or lucky? - she laughed, patting me on the back - You got us all scared there, girl. That thing acted like a battering ram more than a tank…

- Stupidly lucky. - I responded with a faint smile, trying not to alert her - No need to worry about me, I’m good. Not even close, right?

- Say that again when you don’t twitch like a drunk! - she laughed right in my face, more lively than ever, before giving me another tap on my back - If only you could see your eyes, they’re huge! Now go see our carrot, get that hand fixed up.

- It’s just a bruise, it will heal. Just give it time. - I replied, confident in my words. Ever since childhood, my bruises healed in no longer than a few hours. My parents called it good health. All others? Witchcraft.

- Don’t doubt it, Jenny, but better don’t risk an infection on that cut. - she lightly tapped her arm, getting the dirt off of it - And give Beatrice a reason to stop slacking off, for once!

I walked off with a smirk to pick up my rifle off the ground, having dropped it previously. I still could not understand the beef between her and others, and despite my initial claims of not getting involved, I started to wonder what exactly happened between them. Maybe it was best not to know, but my curiosity started to take over. Despite it, I did not want to act on my knowledge. I slowly made my way over to our medic to find her listening to George, his large, flailing arms telling a story on their own. As soon as I got close, he turned his back to her and made his way towards Arthur. Yet another act that made me wonder.

- What did he want? - I asked her bluntly. She turned her eyes to me, first trying to look into my own, then slowly looking down at my arm.

- I don’t know. - she replied after a moment of silence, showing no hesitation in her voice - He wasn’t wounded, so I let him speak. Did that tank get you?

- Bea, if it got me, you’d be prying a flat tire off the ground. - I showed her the bruise, pulling up my sleeve - Just a scratch, really, but Kate wanted you to play doctor.

-Right… She sure did. - Beatrice gently wrapped her fingers around my wrist, pulling it closer to take a closer look. I expected her to recoil at the sight of blood, but she took it well. Or better than I expected, at least, such a brave girl. She let go of it before reaching for a small pouch near her hip and pulling out a small, blue package with a cross of the same color printed on it. She opened it, spilling a bit of some substance onto her finger before closing it with one hand and putting it back. She grabbed my hand again and slid the coated finger through my cut. It burnt badly, even for a hardly noticeable… liquid on a hardly noticeable wound. I let out a subtle hiss from between my teeth, clenching my fingers, feeling like I was stabbed by a molten dagger. As soon as she let go of me, I raised my arm and looked at where the cut was. The wound began to close in, slowly disappearing. With each second, the pain started to dissipate, vanishing just as the blood stopped flowing out.

- What the hell is that? - I asked her with my teeth clenched, greatly astonished by the immediate reaction. - A healing mineral-based gel?

- Does it burn?

- Shouldn’t it?

- It should, but you’re the first one to... express it. - she looked at me again, her face full of concern - This medicine should not be harmful, I think… It was made for bullet wounds, and they’re usually worse than a few bruises.

- They messed up, then. - I said, waving my hand to shake off the burning gel. - I don’t want to imagine putting this on an actual wound. If I get shot, just bandage me or leave me be, whatever you medics do.

- Maybe it’s simply an allergic reaction. - as soon as she said it, I chuckled, unable to believe I could be allergic to a crystal medicine - By the way, are your arms always that cold? It’s chilly, so maybe it’s…

- Beatrice, please. - I interrupted her - Let’s not assume why, just ask a surgeon after we’re back. If the temperature affects first aid, then I dread the thought that this war could drag on until next winter.

With a nod and a smile, she closed her bag and picked up her rifle before jogging over to the rest of the team. I stood silent for a moment and observed my dirtied, but unscratched arm, before joining the others. Another use for Cyberian, this time medicinal. No wonder everyone fought for it if it could accomplish things like this. I found myself asking if there was only one crystal, capable of healing, building and whatever else it could do, or if there were tens, if not hundreds of their types, each differing from another with their abilities. I guessed I would find out soon enough.

We left the ruined estate and the burnt down tank behind, setting course for the nearest town, its lights dimly lighting up the night sky. That’s where the others were, or so we had hoped. Having battled our way through several nasty surprises, we believed nothing could get worse for us. But as I soon found out… War always kept something hidden from our sight, ready to treat us.