“Appreciate it.” The Colonel sent runners to redirect the troops to a drainage ditch, allowing them to put the End-Timers in a cross fire the next time they charged the yard. They waited, listening to the sound of scattered gunfire and war whoops, and the groaning of the wounded. “I know your secret, Rikki,” said the Colonel.
“Yeah?”
“It’s my secret too.” The Colonel moved closer. “The secret of every warrior who ever lived. Battle is a frightening thing, a terrible thing, but once you develop a taste for it…nothing else comes close. Men like us weren’t meant to die in bed.”
“Well, I was kind of hoping,” said Rakkim.
The Colonel rested his hands on his pistols. “You’re a fine young killer, destined for better things. Don’t look so glum…I meant it as a compliment.”
“We winning, sir?” said the corporal.
“We’re holding our own,” said the Colonel. “Thanks to you.”
An hour passed. Then another. It was almost 2 a.m., darker than ever.
Rakkim slid into the brush, listening; he worked his way deeper behind enemy lines, trying to see if the End-Timers were massing for another rush. They lay clustered under the shelter of the trees, must have been over a hundred of them, passing around jugs of moonshine or turpentine, waving their weapons. He got a glimpse of Crews, striding among the trees with reinforcements; the men cheered, fired into the air, and in the sudden flash of gunfire, he saw the shekel of Tyre on a chain around Crews’s neck, the coin swinging back and forth with every step. Rakkim raised his rifle, but Crews stumbled as Rakkim squeezed the trigger, the skeleton man beside him knocked backward. Rakkim got off three more shots, but Crews cowered behind a tree as his men opened up on Rakkim’s muzzle flash, leaves drifting down around them from their concentrated fire. Rakkim retreated back to the heavy-equipment yard.
“Crews is leading a force of around a hundred and fifty men,” Rakkim said to the Colonel, “but they’re more of a mob than a military unit. Give me a dozen men, Colonel, and we’ll infiltrate the woods and circle behind them.”
The Colonel shook his head. “Can’t risk it.”
“I just need-”
“I said no.” The Colonel jabbed a finger at his palm display of the battlefield. “We’re getting more pressure from the north and south. I may have to shorten our skirmish line here and send reinforcements to the other sectors.” He glared at Rakkim. “And don’t tell me what I would have done when I was younger. This is now. And I have to protect the weapon.”
“COLONEL!” The amplified voice boomed out of the forest. “MALCOLM CREWS HERE. YOU GOT SOMETHING BELONGS TO ME, YOU HEATHEN FUCK.”
The corporal raised himself up on one elbow, frightened. The Colonel eased him back down, then ordered another mortar barrage into the forest, trees exploding in all directions, until one by one the mortars fell silent, out of ammunition.
Crews’s laughter echoed from the forest. A single shot boomed out, a 50-caliber rifle from the sound of it. Boom. Boom. Boom…
One of the eight-ton trucks used as a barricade exploded. Then another, as Crews’s 50-caliber marksmen found their gas tanks, the heavy slugs cutting right through their light armor. Rakkim fired back at the muzzle flashes, silenced a couple of the shooters, but there were too many of them. A bulldozer lifted six inches off the ground as its tank went up. A front loader blew up, fell over on its side. Crews’s men had the range now, set off two trucks to the rear of the Colonel’s line of troops. A backhoe erupted next, sent flames high into the sky. They were surrounded by flames now, illuminated by the spreading fires, perfect targets. A few of the Colonel’s men broke ranks, headed for the darkness, but were cut down before they went more than a few feet.
“TIME TO CALL IT A NIGHT, COLONEL. YOU AND YOUR MEN WILL BE WELL TREATED, I PROMISE. CROSS MY HEART.” Crews couldn’t keep from laughing.
Rakkim reloaded, feeling the heat on his face from the fires that burned around them. Gunfire cracked steadily into the heavy-equipment vehicles, trying to find the right spot. The Colonel finished giving orders over his ear link, told Baby he loved her. His mouth moved silently in prayer.
“COLONEL, LAST CHANCE TO GIVE IT UP BEFORE-”
The End-Timers charged from the forest, guns blazing, spraying everything in front of them, not even trying to aim. The front row were hit multiple times by the Colonel’s men, but they kept coming, crawling forward, and there were so many more…Crews must have brought his whole army. Rakkim took them down, one shot, one kill, slapped in another magazine. The rest of the Colonel’s troops held their ground, firing steadily, making the shots count. The Colonel took shelter behind the tread of the bulldozer, firing with both hands, unhurried and unafraid, a strange smile on his face.
The men the Colonel had positioned in the drainage ditch opened up, caught the End-Timers in a cross fire, and this time they went down screaming, faces contorted in the glare from the burning trucks.
“Damn!” The Colonel rolled over, his right hand bleeding, shot clean through.
More troops arrived from the rear, called in by the Colonel. They dug in along the overturned vehicles and returned fire.
The Colonel got down beside the wounded corporal, wincing as he held the boy’s hand, blood running down his fingers. “Take it easy, you’re going to be just fine.”
“THOSE PIECES OF SILVER BELONG TO THE MAN WHO KNOWS HOW TO USE THEM, COLONEL.”
“What’s he talking about?” the Colonel asked Rakkim.
“I’m scared, sir.” Every time the corporal took a breath the pressure bandage rippled.
“That’s okay, I am too.” The Colonel beamed. “You know the Twenty-third Psalm, don’t you?”
The corporal nodded.
“‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,’” recited the Colonel. “Come on, son, say it with me. ‘He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul.’ That’s it,” he said as the corporal moved his lips. “‘He leads me in the path of righteousness for his name’s sake.’”
A group of End-Timers slipped through the cross fire, opened up on the bulldozer, bullets clanging against the heavy metal. Rakkim shot all four of them. Three fell but the fourth staggered forward, fire reflected in his eyes as he leveled his shotgun at the Colonel. Rakkim shot him in the head, and he fell face-first in the dirt.
The Colonel looked over at Rakkim, nodded in gratitude. “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley…’ Come on, son, don’t leave me now, I need you here, come on…‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me…’ Son?” His hand shook as he reached over and closed the corporal’s eyes.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” said Rakkim.
“What have you got to be sorry about?”
Rakkim started to answer, turned back to the battle. He heard bugles in the distance. The fires burned higher now, illuminating the whole line. He spotted Crews at the edge of the trees, a wraith in black, watching him. Bullets slammed into the bulldozer inches from Rakkim’s head as he fired-Crews was lucky, or touched by God; the bullet merely sliced open his cheek.
Crews howled, stepped back into the woods. “YOU LIED TO ME, RIKKI.”
“Rikki, what…?” The Colonel held the pistol in both hands, dropped it. “I can’t keep you straight in my mind,” he said, trying to pick the gun up, his fingers slippery with blood. “One minute you’re a Fedayeen traitor, the next you’re a Russian patriot…now…now I don’t know what to think.”
Rakkim gently took the pistol away from him.
The bugle calls were louder, coming from the south and north too, the perimeter under attack from all sides. More gunfire, heavy machine guns, cheers and charges.
“BACK, BACK, BACK, YOU DUMB BASTARDS.”
The End-Timers raced back into the woods. The only sound left was the crackling of the fires, and the wind whipping the flames higher.