Humanity’s Final Stand, London

‘Hurry up, damnit, they’re on their way.’

5 o clock on a November Tuesday, and a small squad was moving through the ruins
of what used to be London.
‘But, Captain, surely we can hold out? There can’t be that many...’
‘Typical rookie. You haven’t met them yet, have you? 10 of those things can turn
into a thousand in no time at all. If you don’t MOVE now, you will DIE. Get in
the jeep. Sit down. Shut up. We are leaving.’ That was enough to shut him up. Th
e rookie, Paul, was 28. He was of an average height, with brownish eyes and a ti
mid personality. He had signed up hoping to become a hero, or perhaps to escape
his boring, constantly scared way of life. At his low rank, he wielded only a su
bmachine gun. He hadn’t seen any action yet, but was determined to go. Paul was,
however, very good with a wrench. He could fix anything with an engine, and bef
ore he signed up, he worked as a mechanic, in one of humanities few remaining in
tact cities. The Captain was Jones. At least, that’s what they called him. Tall
and well-built, with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He had access to a v
ariety of weapons, but typically preferred his assault rifle. He was one of the
toughest veterans, of the toughest war humanity had ever faced; and the things h
e had seen had changed him. Made him a bitter, cynical person. He used to be a k
ind, family man, until his wife and child were taken by the fires of war. He nev
er was the same. But none of the men under him-or over him, for that matter-coul
d bear to talk about it. But there was another-Chris, the squad medic. Even befo
re the war, Chris was very detached from everyone else. He spoke rarely, and alt
hough the role of medic was a peculiar choice for one such as him, he liked it.
Preferring heal over harm, he was equipped with a marksman’s rifle he rarely use
d, but with great skill. Together, they were one of many small squads in the str
uggle for humanity’s survival against an ever diligent foe. Lack of equipment me
ant they were not always in contact with their superiors, but Jones had made the
decision to pull out of their current mission, having deemed it futile.
Upon arriving back at HQ in the centre of London, they were met with rare news;
a new arrival to their undermanned squad. ‘So?’ Jones demanded. ‘You’ve finally
decided to reduce our odds of a painful and pointless death. Is he any good? Can
he hold a gun?’
‘Yes, he is good.’ She spoke with calm reserve. Her name was Lucia, and she was
the tech officer for Jones’ squad. She looked up and continued: ‘More so than yo
u would expect. He passed all our tests with surprising results, having enlisted
yesterday.’
‘Yesterday?!?’
‘I did say he was good. Only...he’s very...aware of it.’
‘So he’s a cocky one, eh? Well, a few encounters with our favourite enemy should
knock that right out of him. Where are we headed next, Lucia?’
‘To the ruins of Soho. One of our recon units sent out a distress signal not lon
g ago, and we need you to check it out.’
‘Fine. Guess I’ll go meet this new kid.’
‘Go easy on him would you? Remember Jones, he is new.’
‘Private Ben McCormack reporting, sir!’ Ben was young, younger than most soldier
s. He was around 17, or maybe 18. He was tall, Irish, somewhat eccentric, and lo
ved his new job. He was blond, with sharp blue eyes, and a perfectionist.
‘We don’t bother with the formality of rank down here, kid. What can you do?’
‘Snipe. I can hit anything, from any distance.’
‘Okay kid, grab a rifle and follow me. You’ll be our backup while we check out t
his distress signal. Follow me to our vehicle.’
‘So Captain,’ Paul sheepishly asked, ‘where exactly are we going?’
‘Scared now, then? As well you should be. Luckily for you, this should just be a
routine mission. Our recon units are highly trained, and by linking up with the
m we should be able to quickly take out whatever’s pinned them down and RTB. In.
Out. Easy.’
‘Looks like we’re about to find out, kids...’ Ben cut in. They had arrived on th
e outskirts of Soho.
‘Alright then! Out of the vehicle, boys, we’re on foot from here on in. Stick cl
ose to me, we’ll be in and out in no time.’ Jones ordered. He led them through b
uildings and alleys, keeping the squad out of sight, until they reached the poin
t of the distress signal. ‘Okay, McCormack, you take up position in that buildin
g up...there.’ He signalled to the third floor of a 3 story building, with many
of its windows blown out. ‘Cover us while we search for the signal. If anything
that isn’t us moves, shoot it. In the head.’
‘Captain,’ Paul began, ‘we still don’t know what they LOOK like. You and Chris h
ave seen them before. How will we know what to shoot?’
‘Well, they’re not human, and they have guns. Do I need to spell them out to you
? Actually, I think they may be on their way...I’m detecting activity undergroun
d.’ He checked his portable seismometer. ‘Get to cover!’Like a flash, they were
instinctively hidden. Parts of the concrete of the floor fell away, and one by o
ne, up rose...the Easkwrath. They were tall, humanoid, muscular, and bloodthirst
y. Wearing crude outfits, pieced together of various pieces of scavenged fabric
and metal. The metal seemed more for decoration than armour, as they had no real
need of armour, with a thick skin and an aversion to pain. They wielded various
weapons, ranging from what primitive weaponry they could piece together, to wha
t the higher ranked on the pecking order could scavenge to dead soldiers. What w
eaponry they did have, they were more than capable of using, and if not, they wo
uld use their tusks to skewer soldiers, to their endless delight. ‘OPEN FIRE!’ J
ones ordered, and open fire they did. Instantly, what appeared fell to the skill
and battle-hardened precision of the Captains fire, and the surprising effectiv
eness of Bens support. Their fire rung out into the night, until eventually the
Easkwrath stopped coming. ‘What’s wrong, rook? Too scared to open fire?’ Paul ha
d spent most of the short battle merely watching in shock, having never fought t
he enemy before. ‘Don’t let it eat you up inside,’ he said, with a pat to the sh
oulder, ‘it happens to most of us. At least you didn’t cry!’
‘Who do you know that cried?’
‘Myself.’ Paul was left in a stunned silence. Jones activated his radio; ‘Hey Be
n, you did good kid. You’ll go far in my squad with sniping like that. Keep it c
alm like that when the battles get hotter, eh?’ He turned it off. ‘Okay, move yo
u two! On me like before.’
‘Oh, God. Oh no.’
‘What is it Paul? Found something?’
‘I don’t know what this is Captain, but you’re gonna need to see it...’
‘My god, that’s...that’s the recon team.’
‘But...there’s barely anything left!’
‘Damn those Easks. They don’t take prisoners...whatever did this is bad though..
.worse maybe than anything I’ve seen before. Recon teams are highly trained and
well armed. It would take a hundred, maybe more, or just...something worse. Grab
their tags, and any ammo you can find. We’re leaving. Now.’ Instantly, the two
of them knew that something bad was going down, to scare their Captain like that
. Even Chris looked worried. Jones activated his radio; ‘Ben, get down from ther
e. Meet us at the crater, now.’
‘But Captain, what-‘
‘NOW, McCormack!’ He deactivated his radio, and led the squad out.
They manned their vehicle, and Jones sped off. ‘This is bad...’ He said to his s
quad. ‘Easks enjoy killing, but they don’t do things like that. Typically, once
their victim is dead, they get bored...I’ve seen them do horrible things, but no
thing like that.’
‘You think there’s something bigger?’
‘I honestly don’t know, Chris. Something seems to have been happening recently.
They’re almost getting smarter, and we’re seeing more of them. It’s possible tha
t there was just one group that went crazy with bloodlust...but that doesn’t exp
lain how they would be able to overwhelm an entire Recon team.’
‘Hey, Captain-‘ Ben began, ‘if Recon teams are so great, why are they not out on
the front line, fighting?’
‘Because, they’re the only ones with the skills and training to do what they do.
They stay undetected, in overrun areas, gathering intelligence, observing...the
y’re our only source of any information. Without them, we couldn’t defend oursel
ves properly against new tactics, or weaponry.’ He thought for a moment. ‘They w
ould be wasted just fighting. This war cannot be won through simple attrition.’
Resuming his trail of thought, he demanded: ‘Now shut up and let me drive. We ne
ed to get back to base ASAP. They need to know about this.’
They were greeted back at base by Lucia, again. ‘Welcome home, soldiers. Where i
s the Recon team? Did they resume their mission?’ None of the squad could bear t
o tell her, and Jones merely held out the tags. ‘Impossible...’ she replied.
‘There wasn’t much left.’ Jones explained. ‘When we found them, they were in pie
ces. Small pieces. Whatever did this was different to anything I’ve seen before.
’
‘Interesting...we believe the Easkwrath are changing. This is further evidence..
.we’ve had reports of more frequent appearances, almost as if they are...patroll
ing. Also, we’ve heard of more intelligent, organised groups, with a leader.’
‘A leader? Since when do the Easks Take orders? Or give them, for that matter?’
‘Is the exact question that has the higher ups worried. This is bad, Jones. If t
hey suddenly gain intelligence, they could end this war.’ She turned to go. ‘The
Lieutenant is inside. He will give you your next mission. And Jones...’
‘Yes?’
‘Be careful out there. For me, if not yourself.’
The lieutenant was a large, formidable man. He spoke with an impressive, booming
voice. ‘Your next mission, Jones,’ he thundered, ‘will be in Downing Street. Ir
onically, we believe the enemy’s...well, whatever they call their bases, in the
former home of the old government.’
‘Do you think that’s deliberate?’
‘Jones, I don’t think the Easks have the capability to make such a well planned
move. I think this is a freak coincidence.’
‘So what are we going in for?’
‘Well, there’s the thing-we don’t honestly know. We’re 90% sure you’ll find some
thing big in there. If it’s good, if we can use it, get it out. If it’s bad, get
rid of it.’
‘You’re sending my squad into a mission full of unknown dangers, underequipped,
with no real goal?!?’
‘Technically, no. As this could be the mission that may turn the tide of the war
, we will be sending you in with additional side arms. You may choose between ta
king a shotgun, as well as your standard weapon, or perhaps an extra pistol. You
r sniper, McCormack I believe he is? He can choose between our range of prototyp
e rifles. There is some high tech, volatile stuff, and he’ll get to field test i
t, probably before anyone else. We’re also letting him name the rifle, as a litt
le bonus.’
‘Well, I’m sure he’ll enjoy that.’
‘Yes, and we’re also giving you access to an APC or light tank of your choice, J
ones. Enjoy.’
‘Chris, Paul, McCormack, I have good and bad news. The bad news is that we’re go
ing on a possible suicide mission for what might be no reward.’
‘The...good news?’ Ben hesitantly asked.
‘We get slightly less terrible weapons than usual. We can take a shotgun, pistol
, whatever, in addition to whatever you want as your main weapon. McCormack, you
get a choice of the shiny new prototype rifles in development, and apparently y
ou’re allowed to name it. Have fun.’
Eventually, the captain chose one of the smaller APC’s for its high speed and pr
otection. On the journey to Downing Street, the questions inevitably began to ri
se-Paul was the first. ‘Do we honestly have no idea what to expect?’ He seemed c
onfused. ‘I mean, why are they sending in a squad, half of which is rookies anyw
ay?’
‘You don’t know how undermanned we are. As a species. The media-what little is l
eft of it, and it still lies as much as before-doesn’t mention the bad things ab
out this war. I’m surprised there’s anything they can say, really, that’s positi
ve.’ The captains reply struck cold and clear. They knew the harsh reality, deep
down, but they didn’t want to face it: of course, now they had to. Face the war
they couldn’t win.
Eventually, they arrived. Mostly still in shock, there was almost complete silen
ce as they geared up and set off into the ruins of 10 Downing Street. Surprising
ly, the door was still intact. Ben opened it-cautiously-and was met with the sho
ck of his life. ‘It looks like a tunnel-‘ he began, ‘a deliberate tunnel. Captai
n, I think Command were right. I think there’s something big down here.’
‘If there is, we kill it.’
‘Will that change the tide of the war, do you think?’
‘Damn sure won’t make it worse.’ With which, they began. Eventually, the tunnel
began to widen, and descend into what was an incredible, huge open chamber. ‘Loo
ks like we found the Eask’s home...’ Jones remarked.
‘Its almost beautiful, in a weird way...’ Chris said. For a moment, the others w
ere taken aback by his comment, but upon closer expecting the finer details, the
y found him correct. Far below, and into the distance, great crashing waterfalls
could be heard, and just about observed. The rocks also appeared to contain a s
ubstance that gave them a glimmering shine, particularly from a distance.
The squad moved on, taking great care not to attract unnecessary attention. Sudd
enly the Captain whispered; ‘Shh, stop. Don’t move. Behind cover, now.’ From beh
ind whatever rocks or pillars would hide them, the squad observed what appeared
to be a giant of a figure. He was far into the distance, but could be made out c
learly-several times the size of a regular Eask, with more muscular features and
a commanding demeanour. ‘That, I believe, is what the Easks would see as a comm
ander. That is what we shall kill.’
‘But Captain,’ Chris observed-‘he is flanked by so many of them...how will we ev
en get close enough to engage.?’
‘Ben will see to that, I trust. What did you pick, in the end?’
‘A semi automatic particle beam rifle complete with 15x scope. Almost exact prec
ision accuracy combined with a laser beam that can burn through most anything. I
can cover you like never before-practically ensure you win.’
‘Fair enough, what are you going to name it?’
‘The McCormack.’
‘You crazy thing. Anyway, take up position in that formation while we move up,’
he signalled to a rock wall with various chunks missing. It was protected on nea
rly all sides and yet offered great opportunities for engagement.
‘Okay, signal me when you are about to engage. I’ll drop as many of those gorill
as as I can, you finish off the rest, then we’ll kill the big thing. Somehow.’ H
e moved into position. Once he was set up and ready, the rest of the squad, util
ising almost needless amounts of cover, moved up to the Easkwrath formation, and
prepared for fire. Jones gestured to McCormack, and he opened fire. His practic
ally silent rifle made it almost impossible for him to be located, and his fast,
extremely precise rifle, coupled with his natural talent, had half of the grunt
s down, and the rest running for cover or panicking. And then the squad opened u
p. Paul and Chris with machine guns, Jones with a semi automatic shotgun. The pa
nickers were gone in seconds, hopeless in their utterly exposed state. After a q
uick, precise, sniper assisted battle, the squad retreated a few feet and prepar
ed to engage the big one. Of course, Ben had fired into his head, but it seemed
to be having little effect. Jones fired with the grenade launcher attachment of
his assault rifle, taking, quite literally, a chunk out of it’s hide. The entire
squad opened up with fully automatic fire, and yet-almost no effect. Though he
was slowed, he was still firing back, and showed no signs of going down easily.
Their fight was not over. Jones retracted into cover and activated his radio. ‘M
CCORMACK!’ He shouted. ‘I WILL FIRE AGAIN, ON THE HEAD. IF IT LEAVES A MARK, TAK
E ADVANTAGE!’ He deactivated his radio and switched fire types. Quickly and accu
rately, he popped up out of cover and launched a high explosive grenade straight
into the general’s face. But nothing happened. ‘Plan B time...’ he thought. ‘PA
UL!’
‘What?’
‘I am going to quickly flank him. I think his head may be weak on the back, so t
hat’s where ill strike. You keep him busy.’
‘Yes sir!’ Jones ran, to the left he found a path leading straight behind him. M
eanwhile, Paul was giving him all he had to keep him distracted. Once he reached
the behind, he loaded and fired a grenade, and then almost instantly jumped som
ewhere safe. The general turned around to face him...and stabbed him. Almost lik
e lightning, he extended a previously hidden blade and thrust it into the captai
ns heart. With his final breath, he was able to shout ‘NOW, MCCORMACK!’ into his
radio, and then passed out from blood loss. Ben instantly fired 3 times into th
e now exposed back of the generals head, and at last, he fell. But there was no
cheer.
Back at base, the next day. It was a memorial ceremony for the Captain, with mos
t of the military attending. Jones’ former mentor was there. He was a war vetera
n-almost 70 years old, no longer in the fight, but stirring on young men to figh
t for humanities survival. He had been called to give a speech. ‘In the short ti
me I knew him ,Jones was a fine man. After the war erupted, he fought valiantly.
The loss of his wife and child left him a changed man, and yet still he fought.
No matter what he said, he believed in the resurrection of humanity. Now his wa
r is not over, but we have struck a blow worthy of recognition. May our enemy kn
ow, that humanity is not a species that can simply be pushed over and crushed. W
e WILL protect our people, our lands, and our way of life!’ The audience cheered
, both for the heroic speech, and for the memory of Jones. After the ceremony, P
aul turned to Chris:
‘Do you think we can ever win this war?’
‘It may seem hopeless, but I believe so. The blow we struck today will go a long
way to our survival. This war is far from over, but we may have levelled the fi
eld. No matter what, the captain was right.’
‘Right about what?’
‘We can be saved. But we must save ourselves.’