Bringing Back A Classic. 76K Views! · 11:42pm Mar 12th, 2014
Howdy, guys!
I've been writing a lot as for late, and I've been getting suggestions and requests for what to write. Well, for some of you, this is your lucky day. By popular demand, I'm going to be bringing a favorite out of hiatus. For everyone, whether or not you're a fan of RATG, here's a treat preview of the upcoming chapter.
Chapter 10: House
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Berkut the griffon looked out from behind the sandbags. Sunny Breeze stood next to him, doing the same with binoculars. Together, they watched the great southern slope of Hill 20, a long, broad incline four hundred meters long and eighty meters wide. At its distant end, there was a small drop off as the mountainside grew steeper there. It was the choice approach for any enemy force, given that most other routes involved more or less climbing directly up the mountain. Naturally, it was the most heavily defended one, because everyone wanted it. The name, Hill 20, meant that it was the twentieth controlled hilltop in its area. Hill 20 was less than six kilometers away from the Wolf Kingdom border. Even if the defenders never faced a wolf raid, they still had to worry about being the smallest outpost, as well as the most remote one on the end of a string of government-controlled mountaintop bases deep in Afghneighn insurgent territory.
PHWOAR! A red rocket suddenly streaked from the far slope, sailing just feet over their heads! “Na Dushku.” Berkut barked at Sunny, the startled stallion scrabbling to the machine gun. Sunny spotted specks dashing up the slope. He fired without thinking. Dakka dakka dakka dakka. They fell over. Deep rumblings sounded from the unseen sides below. Sunny and Berkut stayed crouched behind the sandbags, exposing as little of themselves as possible.
The captain shouted, “Kompanie, Feuer frei!” Everyone scrambled to the hilltop surface from their trenches, under covers, and the dugouts, before leaping into their assigned positions behind barriers and in pillboxes. “Was fei höre ich?” the captain demanded.
Sunny peeked his helmeted head over the side of the sandbags and saw the green sliver of a tracer zip up the shadow of the valley. He paused, trying to form the Zebrische sentence. “Sie shiessen uns! Indirect fire – take cover – Besuchen sie Deckung!” The exposed defenders dove under tables, canopies, or anything that might possibly spare them from the deadly rain of lead. Sunny vaulted into a trench and curled up as small as he could. All alone, he stared up at the bright, blue sky, trembling, wondering if it was the last thing he’d ever see. Thwip! Fwee! Bullets impacted just inches from him. The guns kept firing, and the projectiles kept raining. Hellish cacophony blasted around the wild-eyed stallion. He curled up, clinging desperately to his AK-74. Small tears leaked from his eyes. His voice trembled as he rocked slightly and sang to himself, “Na vojne, kak na vojke. Inogda strelayut.”
Another volley resounded. At first, silence, but then, a horrible scream of agony ripped through the false tranquility. Sunny couldn’t make out the words. Bullets fell around him, pelting the ground with merciless, arbitrary, death from above. “Oh, Afgneighnistan,” he chocked. “I don’t want to die.” Gunfire exploded from afar, and then from the positions of the defenders. He flinched as every projectile tore through the air above him with an awful, mad buzzing, even as rounds continued to pelt all around. A string fell around his head and hoods, the dust bouncing off his uniform. The dread became too much; he had to get out of there!
Sunny began to awkwardly shuffle on his back towards the nearest dugout. The dust and gravel and sand crunched underneath his body. He sweat profusely, from both terror and the unmerciful heat of the Afghneighn sun. He checked his rifle’s selector switch, and saw that it was locked and loaded on fully automatic – exactly as things should be, and a small comfort to him. He could make it. He could do this. He could survive! Just a simply bit more and he’d be safe. This Hill 20 thing was meant to be his last mission. He had to make it; he just couldn’t die – not here, not now!
Thud! “Incoming mortar!” Sunny grit his teeth and crawled faster, determined to escape death. If that bomb landed anywhere near him, it was all over. He thought he saw something arc across the sun. The world fell.
What do you think?
Anyway, so I was browsing through Fimfiction today when I saw this:
Dayum! 76000 views! I remember the day when I was ecstatic just to get my first thousand. And now I have 277 followers... Wow.
There's only one thing I can say: Thank you all! *GLOMP!* Everything I do would be impossible without all of you, editors, readers, commenters, reviewers. i'm grateful for every single one of you,
Until next time, keep calm and brony on.
- Kalash93
I'm glad to be here with you to witness this event with you.
I can't wait! I can't wait! I can't wait! *squee*