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Authors: Kenan Hillard

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BOOK: The Collective
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Abel’s plan was two-fold; Tommie and a faction of the team
would keep the guards occupied, while his squad composed of Keera and a few
others made their way to the guard tower controlling the gate. Once the gate
was open and Warden could bring his forces to bear, the battle would swing in
their favor. Time was the critical factor in the plan and Abel had little of
it. He used the side of the buildings to shield his small team as he ordered a
secondary group to back up Tommie and secure the courtyard as best they could.
Any minute reinforcements would start streaming from the barracks. He had to
cross in front of the living quarters to enter the stairwell that led to the
tower.  He started to signal for his five person team including Keera to move
out, when he noticed one of the guards had made his way to a machine gun
mounted on a hummer near the entry. Abel instinctively pressed himself against
the building, pushing Keera hard against the wall in the process. Tommie and a
few others were able to reach the water truck for cover before the heavy
machine gun began to spray the area. Four of Abel’s team were killed quickly as
the others dove for cover. The guard tilted the gun up and rained bullets past
Abel’s position into the exploded wall opening. The hail of bullets and the
curved metal shield protecting the gunman, made it difficult for Abel to get a
good shot. More of Abel’s group were being cut down, while half the force were
still outside the wall.  Abel knew they had to take out the gunman fast. He
shouted to Tommie. “Got to bring that guy down! Now!”

“I got it boss!” Tommie responded sarcastically. He motioned
to the rebels near him at the water truck. “Cover me.” Before they could turn
their weapons Tommie was off, rolling past the front of the truck and
surprising the guards on the other side. They were scattered and weren’t
expecting anyone crazy enough to leave their cover and go on the offensive.
That worked to Tommie’s advantage. He thrust his knife into the neck of the
first crouched guard and shot the second through his helmet. Using his momentum
he crashed his right elbow into the head of the next guard as his next shot
ripped through the chest of another. He raked his knife across the fallen guard
to make sure he was dead while still making his way to the gunner. His team was
close behind picking off stragglers and sending the remaining guards ducking
for cover. Tommie drove his boot into the face of the last guard as he neared
the hummer with the machine gun. The guard was so focused Tommie was upon
before he realized. He tried to swing the gun around to shoot Tommie, but the
rogue ducked under the turret and dug the knife deep under the guard’s arms.
Tommie was close enough to see his eyes through the dark visor and to hear his
startled scream turn to a gasp as life left him. The group moved behind him
trying to find cover as guards were firing from every direction in the
courtyard. Tommie kicked the dead guard from the hummer and grabbed the machine
gun. He began firing wildly into the corners of the courtyard. The guards were
on the defensive. Abel’s squad were coming through the wall again. This was
Abel’s time to move.  

As the battle ensued the sun began to rise over the horizon
revealing Warden’s army southeast of the Facility gate. He was seated in the
passenger seat of the semi-truck rig, observing his carefully laid plan as it
fell into place.  The first blast orchestrated by Dazshal’s team had lit the
sky, outlining the Water Facility with yellow and red streaks. He could see the
smoke billowing from the second explosion. Tommie Gun’s information was
accurate and crucial to execute the attack. Still, he was not one to wait or
guess and hope for the best. In the event that Abel had failed to bring back
Tommie, he had a man on the inside of the Facility who would have been
persuaded to provide plans of the layout.

He leaned over to the driver of the motionless rig.
“Prepare everyone to move on my mark. The gates will be opening soon.”

“Yes Warden.” The man stepped from the truck and went
vehicle to vehicle telling the drivers to be ready to move forward on Warden’s
command.

There were eleven all terrain trucks behind Warden’s
carrying four to eight armed militia. That left the majority of the army on
foot. The driver approached a man standing silently in front of the ground
army. He relayed the message and Goll turned around slowly and looked across
the faces of the large strike force. The group was an assortment of Warden’s
army, grizzled and ready for action. Then there were the war veterans and
hunters from the neighboring villages, they had an idea of the scale of the
attack they were attempting. Lastly there were the inexperienced and weapon
deficient men and women who despite their ragged appearance had a determination
in their eyes. They were fed up with the way things were and knew they had to
fight for the change they wanted, even if the battle cost them their lives.
Among the bunch, women were few but capable. Of those handful of lady warriors
one stood out above the rest. She had caught Goll’s attention as they traveled
to the Facility on foot. It was more of a run as they struggled to keep up with
the trucks and jeeps and keep the convoy in their sights. Some of the poorly
conditioned could not keep up and fell behind, but the woman known as Ayilise
was not one of the stragglers. She was near the front of the brigade with Goll,
her short, shoulder length hair bobbing as she kept pace.  Her two guns were
strapped to her waist and the scabbard on her back held her sword. The hilt was
old and worn, the leather was serrated and was noticeable reworked, stretched
and padded until the metal handle peaked through the gaps. The blade was
inexplicably clean and sharp, showing little sign of wear. It shined as she
pulled it out and quickly cut a tree branch for effect.  As she stood with the
group her brown long sleeve shirt covered her neck, lapping over her tight,
black pants which fell over her boots. Goll was intrigued by her. Though he was
more curious to see how she handled herself in a fight. Tree limbs never struck
back, he thought. Goll took stock of the rest of the army. He had been promoted
to a leader of Warden’s ground assault. He knew it was an honor to be selected
as well as a chance to show his ability outside of the arena. The two
combatants who fought the final battle in the circle were now leading two
separate forces. It was nothing more than a test for him and Abel, he thought.
Goll wore his signature red vest over his bare chest with the ‘W’ insignia in
bright red as if it was burned into the cloth. His shotgun hung over his right
arm by a flat, black strap and a long knife dangled from his waist.

Goll growled as he spoke. “Gather your gear and weapons.
We’re moving toward the Facility. The gates will open soon or we’ll tear them
down ourselves when we reach them!”

Goll turned and began to march the troops towards the
gates. Some of them had shouted, some had clapped, others were confused by his
speech and why he was leading them. Goll did not have time to worry about their
state of mind or if they were galvanized by his words. Any minute the gates
would be open. And they would need to unite quickly to be ready for what they
found inside.

The group neared the Water Facility approaching from the
side where all the fighting occurred. Dazshal’s snipers were firing back and
forth with the tower guards. The solid metal gate was shut and lay still as if
it would never open again. Abel’s team may have reached the internal compound,
but they had not reached the gate controls in the adjacent tower. Suddenly, a
shot rang past Goll’s group. One of the men crumpled to the ground before Goll
could react. They were taking fire from the guard tower. Goll ordered the team
to seek cover behind the trees and rocks on the edge of the sand colored road.
He should have been more careful, but he assumed the guards were preoccupied
with the assault occurring around the complex. His team began returning fire,
but many had short range weapons that would have little chance of hitting their
targets. He ordered the useless firing to cease and only allowed a select few
to return fire as he formulated a plan. Goll’s first thought was to wait for
Abel to take over the tower. As his squad was pended down he reasoned that he
might be waiting for a while. Goll was behind a large tree at the edge of the
dirt road leading to the Facility. He could hear the bullets zinging past him
and the occasional scream when the bullet found an exposed target. As Goll
assessed the situation, one of the suppliers who worked in the armory and often
secured weapons from the Black Market slid beside him. Brot was akin to his
name, a stout man who filled out his armor plated vest with ease. His weapon of
choice was a short axe magnetically clipped to his leg and the sawn off shotgun
holstered on the other side.  He liked to get up close and personal in combat.
Goll knew Warden valued him because of his keen knowledge of weapons and his
ability to negotiate good trades.

Brot stood in front of Goll with a pair of gloves in his
hands. “Goll.”

The strike force leader responded. “Brot, make sure you’re
covered from the snipers. I need you around to execute with my plan.”

“That’s what I was coming to talk to you about.” Brot said.

Goll did not wait for the arms dealer to finish his
thoughts. “So you were thinking about using the riot shields we have to get
closer to those towers.”


No, I….” Brot
searched for the words to clarify what he was proposing.

“How many shields do we have?” Goll inquired, cutting off
Brot before he could began.

“Roughly four or five in good condition I think.” Brot
answered quickly.

“That will do.” The man from parts unknown said. “Get the
strongest four people we have. We’ll use them to form a barrier with the
shields. I’ll gather the best shooters among the group to bring up the rear.”

“Got it.” Brot slapped the gloves around in his hands and
reluctantly moved towards the group. He needed to figure out where the shields
were and who would carry them.  Goll gathered the most accurate shooters and
the two met up minutes later.

“Ok. I’ve got our shield carriers.” Brot pointed to the
small force separated from the group. “Two are from our compound, Jatke &
Ueram. Two of the others are city people and they are strong with no fear in
their eyes.”

 “Good.” Goll said. “I’ve got the sharpshooters. I think
we’re ready. When I give the word we’ll start firing at the tower in alternating
waves to throw off the guards. It will also provide some cover so we can get
into place and advance. Get ready.”

Brot knew Goll wanted him to move, but he had an idea he
needed to share. “Before we go…”

“Brot, we have to move now.” Goll stated impatiently.

“This will be quick.” The weapon specialist assured. “I
know you are under pressure, but this may be of help.”

Goll stared at Brot. He was more than perturbed, feeling
that Brot was trying to usurp his authority. He wanted to make his thoughts
plain. “If Warden relieves me of this duty, I won’t forget it.”

Brot answered wearily. “I know.”

“Go ahead then.” The ground leader intoned.

Brot pulled out the black, puffy gloves and flipped them
over so Goll could see the palm and fingertips. Embedded in the cloth were
small metal rectangles. At first Goll did not see the significance, then Goll
put the gloves together and they stuck quickly. Brot had to force the fingers
of the gloves apart. Brot answered Goll’s question before he could ask. “These
are rare neodymium magnets. You can see how strongly they attract to one
another.” He pulled a flap of cloth away from his vest to reveal the metal
plate. As he swung the gloves towards the plate they instantly pulled to his
vest and adhered with a clinking sound.  “My breastplate is a magnet too.  I
think you can see what I’m getting at.”

Goll looked confused. Brot began to explain as he pointed
to the Water Facility. “The side of that tower is all metal. We have these
magnet embedded gloves and vests. If I can get close enough I can scale the
wall and personally take out those guards sniping from the tower.”

Goll grabbed one of the gloves from his hands and felt the
magnets. They were firmly affixed to the fabric. “Have you done anything like
this before?”

“At our home, the warehouse, yes.” Brot revealed. “But
nothing on this scale.”

“I’d hate for you to get up there and fall. And by
yourself. Seems too risky.” Goll looked towards the Facility and shook his head
as he spoke.

“Actually I have another set of gloves and a vest. So if
someone else is game…” Brot’s voiced trailed off as his proposition to Goll
hung in the air. Off to the side of the pair, Ayilise had been listening with
interest.  She hardly saw advanced technology, let alone was given the chance
to experiment with such things. She piped up. “I’ll try it.”

The two men turned to Ayilise as she walked up. Brot
grinned. “I knew I could get a volunteer.”

Goll grimaced. “It’s too dangerous.”

Ayilise ignored Goll as she took the extra pair of gloves
from Brot and fit them over her hands. They were bigger than she thought, but
the gloves expanded, then tightened on her wrists. She stared at the gloves as
she countered Goll’s grim look with a matter of fact tone. “Die by the fall or
die by a bullet. Same difference.”

Brot put the vest over her. Goll was silent as he watched
her being outfitted. He thought about ordering her not to go, but it was
something about her aggressive demeanor that was all too familiar. As Ayilise
stood looking at Goll and Brot with her hands at her side, she could feel the
tug of her pistols attracting to the hand magnets.

BOOK: The Collective
13.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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