"Hit! I'm hit!" Yelled PFC Brian Miller, dropping like a sack of potatoes. This was the rookie's second mission; following death of 'Boomstick' Fridolin Frankis and the incapacitation of Sara 'Stormcloak' Riruk, he had been called in to fill the holes in team three's ranks.
Originally Brian was a Marine in training, back in the not so long ago good old days. Having the best marks in training and with no disciplinary problems, he made it through boot camp without hiccups. Like all other recruits, he had been part of the response when the attack on San Diego occurred. In that hell, he saw real combat for the first time in his life; He saw transport helicopters been blasted out of the sky by beams of green light, the best and brightest of the academy burned alive. His best friend Ben died trying to shove his intestines back into his body, while screaming for his mother. How Fritz, a Heer soldier on an overseas assignment, who used his exotic accent to impress girls, was squashed under the wheels of a retreating Stryker after an explosion destroyed his legs.
Bryan had fought like a wildcat that dreadful day, he saw Hell with his own eyes in that inferno. He was ready for whatever else the aliens could bring along. But what he saw now...
H-he wasn't ready for this.
His weapon, a modified SCAR, fired uncontrolled bursts of shredder rounds at the figures running towards him. Just moments ago a grazing hit from an Thin Man's plasma rifle ripped a hole through his right arm, forcing him to shoot his weapon effectively one handed, which ruined any chances of accuracy.
Not that the zombie stumbling towards him cared if he was hitting or not. The thing that had once been a human was horrible mutilated; it's right shoulder and collar bone were shattered by his bullets, the head was partially caved in by what looked like a shovel impact, and its stomach had an almost fist sized hole, allowing him to see completely through the other side, courtesy of a Guardsman who hit the thing with an explosive round point blank. But even that hadn't been enough to take the abomination down, and to Brian's horror, he witnessed how the thing start to eat the fallen soldier alive. Brian attempted to back off, but slipped on a wet patch on the ground. He wanted to scream, but the monster was already upon him, jaws hanging open to tear him apart.
That exact moment three bullets raced past his face and tore into the zombies midsection cutting through it's spinal column causing it to fall down like a sack of potatoes. Turning his head, the former Marine could recognize a figure emerging out of pillars of smoke produce by the burning cars and tanks.
Suddenly a nasty screeching noise caused him to whirl around, only to see a bug straight out of hell leap towards him to latch onto his face. The miniature chryssalid had tore itself out of the corpse it infested and hastily attempt to break into it's new apparent home. Brian screamed and let go of his rifle, his arms racing up to his face to remove the thing. Big mistake.
One claw cut through his chin while seeking a steady position, other surged into his mouth ripping through lips, teeth, tongue and-
In that exact moment something grabbed the monster, ripping it out of his mouth away from his face.
Through slivers of pain Brian could see a man's silhouette, judging from his slowly greying hair in his forties, throw the skittering thing on the ground. Before it could run away or attack him, he brought his foot down, brutally stomping on the bug in a sickening crunch. No disgust or fear shown on his face, there was only a look of steel in his eyes.
Not wasting even one second on the now deader than dead insect, the man turned around and instantly opened up the other zombie that wasn't even three meters away. He opened fire in amazingly well aimed bursts, taking out both of its kneecaps to slowing the creature down enough for him to pull out his handgun, and to continue firing, landing critical hit after hit.
Discarding the empty gun he pried a Molotov cocktail out of his belt inciting while drawing a dashed it against the walking corpse that was just attempt to circumvent the car door that Brian had used as cover. Tossing the M4 into the air to snatch by its barrel, the man used his rifle like a club to smack against the monster, sending it reeling backwards.
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O'Neill groaned upon seeing the Zombie stumble. It's entire body was a bloody mess, the former identity of it's owner no longer reconcilable. And yet it wasn't willing to stay down.
Ouside of that thing now slumped over and on fire, there were no other threats, nearby and he allowed himself to lean against the car. With the adrenaline slowly backing down he was painfully aware of just how exhausted he was. The cuts in his leg and arm ached with blood coming out of the preliminary bindings he slapped on earlier. And not even mentioning the burn in his side that even now sent lances of agony through his form.
On his way back from where the militia died he stumbled on a little group of Roswells, two in fact. He had gotten the drop on one and had managed to take it out before it had any chance to defend itself. The other one however had managed to shot back before dying and had hit him in his lower left side. Judging how he was still able to somehow fight and run it hadn't gotten anything vital. And with whatever these things were shooting with it had been so hot that it had instantly cauterized the wound. He had almost passed out from the pain but it had cauterized the wound and had stopped him from bleeding out so it was a blessing in disguise so to say.
"Poor SoB. He thought as he turned around and looked at the soldier that was laying behind him. The lower half of his face was utterly devastated and he was bleeding like a bitch if anything he had at most still five to ten minutes until he bled out, and he had currently no way of dealing with it.
He looked around again. No one seemed nearby, all the other national guardsmen and aliens in this area were dead and the fighting seemed to have moved a couple of blocks. That meant that they were for the moment safe but also that there wouldn't be any help coming for the boy. Not in time anyway.
"Hey boy. His head moved up. Can you understand me? He nodded weakly. Good. Try not speak or move your head to much or you'll choke on the blood. He looked around again. There was still no one out there. I'm going to carry you to where they can help you. Can you still shot?
The boy raised one of his arms and turned his body to show the hole in his other one. Jack looked a minute at it cursed and than reloaded one of his pistols.
Taking out his combat knife he cut out a sizable part of his vest and wrapped the clothing around the young man's head. Said person flinched and muffled sounds of anguish escaped the ruins of what had once been his mouth but he managed to remain conscious for the moment.
"Here! Take this, is better than nothing. Now come! Not waiting on an answer Jack crouched down slung his arms around his waist and lifted him up. A wince escaped his lips as both his wounded leg and arm protested but he suppressed the pain and slowly stood up.
"Hey when you see someone or something you pat me on the back if it's possible for you. Friendlies is one pat, hostile's are two or no screw that! If it's aliens you just shot them clear? The soldier patted with his wounded arm against back. Good! Than let's get moving and Son.. O'Neill stopped for a moment. Don't worry, i'll get you out of this alive!
Checking left and right through the burning ruins of his former city, the air filled with smell of smoke he began to run. His leg and his arm screamed in protested with every step he took, the on short notice treated wounds leaking blood even through the material of his makeshift pressure binding.
He came to the realization that he wouldn't be able to do this for long. He had been fighting, running, jumping and dodging for what seemed like an eternity even before the arrival of the national guards. He had been taking potshots on aliens as they broke into house basements slaughtering and kidnapping the inhabitants. He had let survivors of these firefights into locations he believed to be secure.
He had launched interception and diversionary attacks, skirmishes just to allow some of the people here the time to escape. At first he had been working with the couple militia survivors he could find. They had been way over their heads. They had no experience in fighting, had no experience in witnessing death on this scale and to be honest they shouldn't ever have to live through that in the first place. These things that were happening here, Jack wouldn't have thought ill of them if they had just taken the legs into their hands and had run. He certainly would have when he was in their age, given the little shit he was back than.
But they had stayed, they had stayed and had helped him fighting these these things. The people here were their families, friends, partners, rivals, crushes and neighbors. People they had connections to and not just some strangers dying in Europe. They had fought like demons each rescuing as many as they could, but in the end all their courage hadn't been capable of preventing the inevitable. One for one they had fallen until only Jack alone had been left.
His foot crashed against something uneven in the ground and he almost keeled over. He had seen enough death today and he'll be damned if another one would die on his watch as long as he was still able of breathing.
He halted for a moment and viewed his surroundings. But more than just watching he used his ears. Gunfire, explosions, screams, inhuman roars. All coming westwards. He had no way of knowing if he'd be able to find any help for the guy on his back before he bleed out if he head out eastwards. He could probably scavenge the now mostly empty buildings of the streets around him, but that wouldn't help. First there was no guarantee that he would be able to find medicine at all, second the medicine, if he found some, would most likely not be able to save the kid and even if from some sort of miracle there was such stuff around here, he was no doctor or medic. He wouldn't be able to use it properly. And the chances of meeting some Sani here was nil.
He signed as he released his only choice. He had to go Westwards. Through the thick of the fighting.
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He had been carrying the soldier for 20 minutes now and couldn't do it any longer. On his way to where the main battle for the city was taking place. He had travelled past two national guard checkpoints, both of which had most likely served as safe houses for civilians. Both had been wiped out. He had stopped for a moment and had checked if anyone had survived. but no.
Each and every single one was dead. They and the civilians they had been protecting, all gone.
Jack pushed an angry scream back attempting to force it's way out his throat. He swore to God these bastards would pay tenfold for what they had done. Pausing for a moment to bring his temper back under control, he checked on the soldier he found, Brian Miller as his dogtag told him, had lost conscious something around ten minutes ago. His pulse had become weaker again. The piece of the body armor Jack gotten from a corpse of a fallen Guardsman, no longer helped in containing the blood dribbling steadily over his back. Some five minutes ago he removed it after he saw Brian begin choking on it. Taking it away had saved his immediate life, but judging from how pale and his weak pulse, was he had maybe a couple of minutes left before bleeding out.
Cursing for what felt like the billionth time today, he shoved him back over his shoulders and started sprinting again.
The stench in this part of the town was almost unbearable. Smoke, the smell of burning wood and something else. It took jack a second to realize it. Burning flesh, both human and inhuman. A couple of minutes before he had seen how an old Guard Cobra unleashed a concentrated barrage of hellfire missiles into a block of buildings only to be torn from the sky via a beam of green light a moment later. The stark crescendo of gun shots, zippy noises he was pretty sure was the sound of the discharging energy weapons of the aliens, undermined by the almost regular detonations produced by impacting HEAT rounds, Missiles, rockets and grenades. It had slowed strongly down and had now almost utterly come to a halt.
Jack almost hoped that the fighting had finally stopped and that they had been victorious but he banished the thought. Until he was certain that the danger was over he would proceed with the caution that around literally every corner an enemy could wait. Optimistic thoughts would only cost him his life here.
He advanced further at haste speed though always ready to dodge sidewards should he see any threat.
He emerged onto a battlefield. The town centre had been almost completely leveled. He could see burning tanks, ruined choppers, collapsed buildings. Everywhere was fire and smoke. And truly everywhere everywhere were corpses. Aliens of various different races and humans. Civilians and soldiers. Men and women. Children and Elderly. Judging from their positions many had died fighting, joining the soldiers in their defensive positions in an desperate attempt to hold the ground and to buy as much time and distance for the fleeing as possible.
And the enemy had paid a very very heavy prize in breaking through this position indeed. The ground was littered with Xenos remains. The massive green ones who had butchered his militia were in their dozens present each and everyone covered in bullet holes and burns. Their armor and muscle mass had stopped much but in the end either a lucky bullet, a direct hit with something very explosive or just the sheer amount of damage had downed them all.
Besides the fallen green giants, there were countless zombies, infiltrators, bugs and Roswells who all had suffered a similar fate.
There was an unnatural silence in the air as Jack marched through this field of carnage. A bizarre feeling of calmness had filled the former special forces soldier as saw this almost unnatural picture. There was no one. No one was left here. No human soldiers or medics that could save Brian.
The sounds of battle, the screams and gun shots, the explosions and blasts, all the noise that had swamped over his town for most of the night had been silenced. Far far in the distance Jack could see how the first rays of sun light began to rise. He could almost feel a nonsensical feeling of amusement expand in his chest. There was no one here. His run to save Brian was pointless.
His completely exhausted, burning and aching legs gave way beneath him and he slumped on the ground.
There was a strange sound in the sky. What was it? Where did it originate from? What made it? Oh. It was laughter. He was laughing.
And in his laughter he didn't see the Green monster before it had already crashed into him.
His world turned horizontal as he was hurled across the air before coming up on the asphalt. Head first.
The last thing he saw before everything turned black was the thing keeling over.