The march lasted for days as we rushed to Zaria. Heavy fighting along the way made us careful and suspicious, but we had to move. We lost our commander yesterday, but the goal was to get to the city and help them repel the invaders. To gain speed, we had to drop all of the things we would not need for combat.
– Our last mule died. – a friend spoke kicking the metal machine that just lost its power to walk.
– It lasted us for so long. We will soon follow her, if don’t reach the city. – I said catching breath.
– Whose bright idea was to take us on a death march? – friend paused and looked at the clear sky where the Sun burned his face to a lobster red color.
– We were told to engage the incoming force. They were raiding villages in our reach and left inland when we came in pursuit. Motherfuckers are fast and nimble. You saw what they did to Tadmir and Ivilion. If Zaria falls, the whole war is lost… Keep moving.
Fire broke off at the head of the column, raised our eyes up in curiosity, then the platoon charged forward to catch up the line that kept rifling the distance.
– Ildocians!!! – one of the scouts shouted pointing at north, which was strange for Ildok to come from that direction.
Nevertheless, we stepped up the pace and filled the small hill by the whole stretch, lining our blaster on the top edge. Bursts of fire were destroying our cover with each bullet breaking the rocks and throwing dirt in eyes. Strong yelling consumed the repetitive flashes, when a Zarian war cry came from the opposite side. The platoon stopped firing back, and one of our men rose the flag, showing the friendly colors.
Riffling gradually stopped to a dead silence. There were no volunteers to exit the cover and approach the hostile position where we couldn’t find a trace of Zarian uniform. I stepped out, feeling tired of this walking and losing and went out there like an angry general to find out what is going on.
I thought it was a lost unit from the siege or a pack of deserters that left the “Big Battle for Ildock”, but it wasn’t that. What I found out was that one of our boys in the middle had a heat stroke and the others thought he was gunned down by an enemy sniper.
The first line though we were ambushed by a stronger enemy force, so they returned fire. We were battling the imaginary force. We had to implement the obligatory rest schedule and start a night’s watch which slowed us even more, but we didn’t fought any imaginary army again.
And some action packed stuff to break the monotony.