//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Condition Sundown // Story: Callsign MANE VI: Twilight // by Col_StaR //------------------------------// “All units, be advised, we’ve reached the final checkpoint. ETA: thirty minutes. How copy? Over.” The other units replied in ascending order. Sledge echoed their words as his turn came, “Unit 3. Solid copy, Captain Light. Over.” Dawn had broken an hour ago, but the overcast skies scattered sunlight across the dreary land. The vastness of the open fields and distant towns had been replaced with the suffocating confines of a dense forest. An imposing wall of trees flanked both sides of the highway. The public road was once alive with various cars, but after they entered the woods the roads were found oddly barren. Regardless, the convoy maintained its rapid pace, sirens still piercing the otherwise-eerie quiet. “Something doesn’t seem right here,” Sledge muttered aloud. Shining Armor replied in kind, “I know, I feel it too.” “Do you see anything out there?” “No, sir. I can’t see anything, really.” Sledge grunted, “Just stay sharp.” Armor agreed, pulling his MP7 from its holster. Whether it was from the winter chill or the same creeping intuition, Twilight’s hair began to stand on edge. Armor cocked his MP7 and rested it on his lap to prepare himself, but the intimidating sight and sounds brought Twilight’s gut wrenching in fear. She stared out the window, half-expecting to behold a terrifying monster, its disfigured face staring back at her. Instead she found only a forest too dark to see into. And the shadowy fingers of lurking fog, weaving ominously between the thickets and trees. A groan beside her almost made Twilight shriek in fear, were it not from her brother. Spike fidgeted in his seat, shifting from side to side as he mashed his hands against his groin. Despite his best attempts to hide his discomfort, the boy continued to utter a series of muffled whines. “Spike, what’s wrong?” Twilight asked. “Nothing,” he said too abruptly. Another set of whines escaped him as the discomfort swelled inside him. He was barely holding on. “Are you sure about that?” she asked incredulously. Spike feigned normalcy for several seconds, before succumbing. He leaned against the Plexiglas pane towards the driver’s cabin. With his restraint slipping away, Spike made his request as quickly as he could. “Guys, I know now really isn’t the best time…” He took a deep breath to relieve himself, “but I’ve had to piss like a racehorse for the past hour or so-and I didn’t want to disturb you guys seeing as you’re busy and all- but now I’m on the verge of bursting- straight out bursting- back here. So if it wouldn’t be too much trouble could we just pull over somewhere so I can… go?” Sledge and Armor looked at each other. Then they looked at Spike, who was turning beet red. Spike tried his best to avoid his sister’s embarrassed gaze; even before they left, she had warned him about the orange juice. Sledge appeared less than concerned. “We’re thirty minutes out from the destination. Can you hold out until then?” “He won’t last 30 seconds from the looks of it, sir,” Armor chimed in Sweat and tears dripped from his face as the boy fought against his own body. Slowly but surely, he could feel his own body begin to betray him. If he could, he would have gotten onto his knees and begged, “Puh-leease? Guys, come on. Can’t you just pull over for just a minute?” “We are not authorized to break formation, and the convoy will not stop on account of a single weak bladder.” An idea struck the younger guardsman, “Didn’t you have a bottle with you earlier? You could use that.” Twilight shuddered at such a notion. “Ew, that’s disgusting! Surely Cell or Captain Light would consent to a quick bathroom break.” “Not likely ma’am. This area is not secure, it is not safe here. We will stop in a location when we are better prepared.” “Prepared? Prepared for what?” At that moment, the answer to Twilight’s question struck. A rocket pierced through the fog, slamming against the lead car and hurling the wreckage backwards. The explosion was blurred by the haze, but the fiery plume and rumbling sound announced its arrival. Everyone ducked their heads as shrapnel rained down upon the windows and roof of the car. Taillights swerved left and right as drivers anticipated incoming fire. The radio erupted with a storm of noise. Multiple voices called out at once in panic and confusion. “Unit one is hit! Unit one is down-““Where’d that come from? Anyone have eyes on-““Contact! Contact on the left!” The guardsmen of the other cars had disembarked their vehicles and were engaging their unseen enemy. The fog had grown in density, now a wall-like shroud of darkened grey. The distant flashes of gunfire were obscured from sight, but the accompanying bangs still rang through the air. Twilight and Spike instinctively ducked their heads and shut their eyes, hiding from the chaos outside. Even inside their armored car, the danger was too close for comfort. Armor quickly fastened his grip on his MP7 while Sledge withdrew his pistol. The older man’s expression became razor sharp and more unforgiving than before, a disposition that had been chiseled into him after years of combat. His eyes narrowed and muscles tensed. He looked to his passengers, panicking in the rear. “You two,” he barked, “stay alive.” And with that, Sledge and Armor tossed open their doors, brought their weapons to bear, and disappeared into the fog. They were alone. The walls and the fog were closing in around her; Twilight could feel them coming closer. Cold beads of sweat trickled as she peered out the window, her eyes darting from one corner to the next, watching for a figure through the thick, grey haze. Her heart was a beating hammer inside her chest, carrying its pounding rhythm through her veins. The sound of helicopters thumped against her eardrums as they hovered over the carnage. She was shaking from the fear, the cold, and the anticipation. Yet she remained still, confined to her chair by her own anxiety. She could only sit, watch the battle unfold, listen to the gunfire and the screams of wounded men, and silently pray that they were not next. The gunfire behind them was getting closer. The rhythmic bursts of light and sound rang out in series for some time, before suddenly falling silent. The two held their breaths in the looming quiet that followed. And then, like shadows made manifest, they appeared. Dressed in obsidian black, a pair of uniformed soldiers crept through the veil with cautious anticipation. Hunched like wolves over their weapons, the full body of equipment and gear on their uniforms only added to the men’s’ imposing frames. Their mouth and noses were covered by rubber masks, but their heated breaths billowed from the sides like infernal demons. Spike tried to say something, but he was too terrified to say something in full; the words tumbled out from between his chattering teeth. The elder sister quietly shushed, clasping her hands around him. Lying together on the floor of the car, Twilight could feel them coming closer. Her trembling arms clenched her brother tighter. Their boots crunched the earth just behind the car door. As a massive figure loomed over them, a startled gasp escaped the girl’s lips. Suddenly, a pair of half-shadowed eyes squinted through the tinted glass. Twilight ducked her head, wordlessly praying that they would be safe. If they were still enough, maybe they wouldn’t see them. Maybe they would be distracted by a noise in the fog. Or perhaps someone, anyone, would come to save them. In silent reverence to that unseen god, she seized her shaking, and held her breath. And shut her eyes as hard as she could. The shuddering chill made Twilight’s heart freeze in terror. A hand grappled the back of her jacket, tearing her from the ground and out the open door into the freezing air. Her back scraped against the unforgiving road, forcing her eyes open to a sky of gray haze. Her legs kicked and her body thrashed in resistance, but the soldier was relentless in pulling her away. He tossed her to the ground and jammed the iron toe of his boot into her back, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from his captive. Unable to move in pain and restraint, Twilight’s face rubbed against the coarse, cold concrete. She could feel the barrel of his rifle pressed against her shoulder blades. Dread flooded her thoughts; she could clearly see blood dripping from the bottom of the man’s shoes. The soldier clicked on his radio, jabbing his rifle against her for good measure. “Secondary target secure. Repeat, package Element is sec-.” A barrage of nearby gunfire interrupted his message, striking down the soldier’s partner and forcing him to return fire at the unseen assailant. Every shot from the soldier’s rifle thundered in Twilight’s ear until it was paired with a painful ringing. The empty brass rained hot upon her. She could not gather the strength to escape. The shots and the shells only stopped as the man reloaded. When the ringing in her ears subsided, the first sound she heard was Spike’s charge. The boy leapt from his hiding spot in the car as he spotted his opportunity. He charged towards the distracted soldier, brazenly blindsiding him from the side. Spike tackled him to the ground with ease. With every ounce of strength he could muster, his fists connected several blows against the man’s face. Anger and adrenaline fueled his attacks, and each strike encouraged him to make another. The boy transformed into a savage beast, whose belly was burning with the fires of hatred. But as the man regained his awareness, the struggle showed its true face: the undersized boy had picked a fight with ravenous Kodiak bear. The soldier’s hands shot to the holster on his belt, pulling out his pistol. Spike barely dodged the first round, which rang out beside his head. With their hands wrapped around the others’ arm, the two entered a desperate wrestle for control. As they pushed against each other, the muscles of Spike’s skinny arms began to burn beneath his skin. The soldier even smiled as the fight began to turn. The barrel of the pistol drew closer and closer. As peril drew nearer for Spike, Twilight sprung into action. The girl crawled towards the melee, the pistol now inches away from Spike’s chest. She wrapped her hands around the man’s well-worn wrist and began to pull. For a moment, she held back the tide. But she too was unable to hold him back. Against the added weight of the case and the strength of her attacker, her arms began to lose their strength. She cried out as the pistol slowly began to draw against her. Panic began to peak in her mind, her eyes searching desperately for a solution. When she saw the knife strapped to his vest, her hands acted out of reflex. The six inch blade was drawn from its scabbard and stabbed into the soldier’s shoulder. The knife worked with soulless efficiency, slicing through cloth, tearing apart skin, and rending muscle with its serrated edge. An unholy scream bellowed from the man’s covered mouth. Her fingers still caught in a vice-like grip, Twilight tried to remove the knife, only to twist the blade back and forth inside the gaping wound. His whole body convulsed in agony. His heavy breath was spent in excruciating cries. A terrified pair of white-rimmed eyes screamed back at her. Twilight was captivated by the moment. Blood leaked freely from the jutting wound, splashing crimson onto her hands, clothes, and face. Even exposed to the frozen air, the blood was hot as it streaked against her tender skin. The air was still thick with haze, her fingers still warm with blood. The gunfire was beginning to fall distant, but the bangs still echoed louder than the helicopters hovering overhead. She could feel her hands trembling, her mind racing, and her body falling faint. An intense shaking brought her back to reality. “Come on!” Spike pulled her up to her feet with great urgency, “We’ve got to get out of here!” He tore her away from the wounded man. Twilight couldn’t help but watch the man writhe in a pool of his own blood. It was a twisted, terrible, guilt-ridden fascination. Even as his figure disappeared behind the veil of fog, his groaning agony echoed in her ears and seemed to smother her very soul. They returned to the car as quickly as their wobbling legs could take them. A large figure was waiting through the fog in front of them, hunched against the side of the SUV. They saw his hand, clutching his handgun. A bolt of electricity shot through their spines. They both fell frozen in shock as the gun aimed suddenly towards them. But as the man’s brown pupils and dim stare looked over them, Sledge lowered his weapon. The guardsman’s breathing was heavy and labored, but still full of fight. “You two,” he said as he reached for the driver’s side door, “we’re getting out of here.” Twilight’s voice trembled, “Where’s Cell- Armor- the others-“ “They’re retreating- like us. We’ll regroup at the destination.” He tossed open the driver’s side door, “Go, get inside.” Spike was already in motion, jumping into the middle cabin. Twilight followed close behind, but something caught her eye. Sledge’s left hand was clenched over his gut, but the growing blot of red gave his wound away. “Sledge, you’re hurt!” “It’s nothing, I’m fine,” he replied. He tried to take in a deep breath to hide his weakness, but his face twitched sharply with pain. Twilight shuddered as his hand lifted slightly from the wound, revealing a hole in his jacket and the gruesome chunk of flesh underneath. “Caught a stray… below the vest. Fuckin-… should have been more careful.” As Twilight’s hand gravitated towards his wound, Sledge’s bloodied hand lurched forward. “Look out!” he shouted, shoving Twilight aside quickly. He brought his HK45 to bear, opening fire upon two enemies behind the car. A body could be seen dropping within the mist, but not before firing off rounds in return. A burst rang out, and Sledge staggered backwards. He stumbled against the hood of the car, before toppling onto the ground. The woman crouched beside the man, eyeing the two new holes that perforated his chest. The red was already beginning to flow like a grotesque fountain. The man’s labored breathing became wheezy and shallow, and his iron-willed attitude began to crack under distress. Twilight removed her jacket and compressed it against his wounds. But with a grim shake of his head, Sledge stopped her. “Don’t,” he struggled to say. As he lay upon the ground, blood draining from his wounds, Twilight could feel the man’s anguish. He had just saved her life: she couldn’t give up on him. Her mind raced for a way to save him, but nothing came. At the least, she tried to say something comforting, something to ease his pain and passing. But again, nothing came. She placed her hand on his massive shoulder. The flow of stricken tears welled in Twilight’s eyes, “Sledge…” Sledge’s austerity returned at the sight of her sadness. “Don’t cry,” he ordered with bated breath. Blood sprayed from his nose and mouth as he was battered by coughing. “You will not be weak, that… is an order.” He knew he was spent. The wounds grew worse, and he could feel his body failing. “I did my duty… my job. You… must do yours.” The weakness was settling in, and the guardsmen’s body fell limp to the ground. Even as his breaths grew short, he spoke with determined authority, “You know what to do. Get to the others. Remember the rules... Do your job. And… and…” “Get home safely,” they whispered in somber unison. And with a tired wave of his hand, the dying knight sent the student on her way. Twilight settled into the driver’s seat of the SUV, the engine still running. In her absolute focus, she quickly removed the brake and punched the gas pedal. The car lurched forward into the fog, shifting off the side of the road. Images of bodies and wreckage strewn across the lanes flashed past the windows; she didn’t care to look. Gunfire opened upon her from inside the fog, but she remained unphased as the bullets bounced off the car’s armor. The sound of helicopters rushed over them, before disappearing altogether into the distance. Indeed, as they escaped the site of the carnage, everything disappeared around them. The fog that had blanketed every inch of scenery around them began to recede, leaving only a long stretch of road. The flurry of sound that had once surrounded them became mute and distant, leaving only the monotonous hum of the SUV’s engine. And the sensation of touch from their fingers had grown numb by the adrenaline that coursed through them. The only smell that remained was the oppressive scent of iron that now stained her nostrils. In the distance, she could imagine Sledge still lying on the road, dying in a puddle of his own blood like the wounded man before. Over the radio, she could hear him gave his final report. His voice grew faint. And his breaths, less frequent. “To any unit in range…Condition Sundown. Repeat, Condition…Sundown…. Sundown-”