Collateral

The sky burned a deep, melancholic orange as the fading sun descended slowly but surely. The pale white fluffy clouds hovered in the sky covering the majestic golden sunlight. Trees of differing heights whizzed by as the armored trucks raced along the metalled road. Silence dominated as the men sat quiet and intensely, contemplating and deep in thought. 

“Let me give you guys a brief overview of the situation,” Robert’s rich deep voice boomed as he stood up from the cushioned seat. The dim light illuminated a fraction of his shiny suit with his ominous green goggles being the other source of light in the otherwise dark truck. “The terrorists we are dealing with are a squadron of the Coalition Forces, and are not to be treated lightly. Reminder to stay vigilant, cautious and armed at all times. We need to diffuse the situation first and ensure each and every member’s capture. Do not engage in lethal conflict with them until all other options are exhausted. I do not want to see any of my men dead.”

Robert cast his gaze at each of the other five men with him, their bodies tense and rigid. Robert sighed as he sat back down in his seat, and patted James on the shoulder, the guy to his left. “Your first operation son, make me proud”.

“Aye captain,” James’ uttered. His first ever mission. Years and years of hard work and dedication towards this moment. He held his rifle tightly. He glanced around at his crewmates. Each of them seemed more calm and composed than he was. Obviously they should be, James thought. They’ve probably been doing this longer than I’ve been in training. James sat up and prepared himself mentally. He repeated the words ’Diffuse and apprehend” continuously in his mind.

“Don’t stress out the poor lad any further than he is, Sir” said Bill with a rigid and croaky voice as he placed his hand gently on James’ shoulder.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” responded Robert.

“You’re definitely lying sir. Have you seen how rigid you can be sometimes? So cruel” derided Nakamura, his voice smooth and melodious. The others agreed by nodding their heads to Nakamura’s statement.

To James’ left sat Bill. He was a few years older than him and tall, tanned and muscular. He had done operations of this caliber numerous times and seemed unbothered. Across Bill sat Nakamura, an average heighted man who was an incredibly handsome man. He had recently become a father to a healthy baby boy. To Nakamura’s left sat Rutherdam, a silent man yet was comforting to be around. And across Robert sat Siam, an handsome brown man with well defined facial features and lush beautiful hair elegantly falling till his shoulders. These men were James’ comrades. They treated him as a younger brother and an equal. James knew he could not let them down.

“Yeah Sir, stressing out too much ruins one’s focus. You should know that, Sir.” said Nakamura

“Now is not the time for any comments. Save them for after the mission if we make it out alive.” responded Robert sternly.

“Destination approaching. Please be ready for deployment,” a robotic voice uttered. They all stood up and armed themselves. Each of them picked up a riot shield and prepared themselves. The armored truck screeched to a halt as Robert held a firm grip on the handle and pushed it open. Each man rushed out. The sky was a deep entrancing shade of black. There stood a large warehouse, a size unfathomable.

“After me! James, keep watch behind me. ”Robert commanded. Each man slowly crouched their way around the warehouse to the side where a staircase led upstairs. They walked upwards, rifles ready and loaded. James was right behind Robert, glancing around in search for anybody else. The staircase creaked and groaned as each man climbed and walked on it.

What felt like an eternity of suspense passed through until Robert exclaimed,”Wait!” A chipped, dull white door presented itself. Its doorknob rusted and withering away. Robert stood in front as The others stood parallel to the wall, ready to barge in. Robert raised his foot and struck the door near the doorknob with such ferocity and vigour that it fell off its hinges. James and the men rushed in and stood on a raised platform. The metal floor echoed their footsteps as each man glanced and gazed around through their armed sights, looking for any signs of life. Nothing. Below the platform lay an endless sea of cargo and crates piled on top of each other. They moved along the platform towards what seemed to be the next door, exactly the same as the one they had just entered. Beyond it lay the exact same layout of never ending crates and cargos.

Then, suddenly, footsteps echoed. Not theirs, no but it was on concrete. There were men on the floor. “Crouch down, now!” commanded Robert. Each man fell onto their stomachs, still armed. Two men, hard to notice, trod between the load. It was hard to make out, but they were fitted in what seemed to be a highly advanced Nixum Suit. It blended along with the load. Robert and his men continued to move forward, making sure they moved along the wall to avoid being caught. The platform came to an end, and what was left was a staircase leading downwards towards the ground. They sauntered down, eyeing the ground floor as they descended. They continued their movement and made their way in between the cargo. Something felt unreal, something felt…off.

Immediately, a burst of bullets rushed past James, inches away from fatally wounding him. He ducked behind a cargo crate as Bill and Siam were beside him. They were compromised.

“Put your weapons down and arms behind your back if you do not want your wives to be widows and your children orphans.” demanded Robert, but the firing intensified. Robert glanced at James, Siam and Bill and pointed at a distant crate then made a walking motion with his index and middle fingers. They understood and followed accordingly. They rushed a few rows away before taking a sharp left turn until they were in line with the firing. There James saw four armed men in armed suits, rifles up till their chests as they crouched and continued firing. James, Siam and Bill unleashed their own fire and the other men were caught by surprise. They tried to disperse quickly and efficiently but collapsed onto the floor. Fifteen rounds released in the span of seconds. The efficiency and modernity of his own rifle shocked James.

A sudden white flash of beam overwhelmed James’s peripheral vision, and he found himself hurling backwards onto his back. Blood slowly dripped down his cheek. He immediately straightened himself. Where he stood lay rubble and dust. The cargo and crates he stood besides were gone, God knows where. He remembered Siam and Bill. He looked to his right.

There lay their corpses in a pool of deep and rich red blood. Their body was charred and burnt. The skin was melting off slowly, yet each of their eyes nearly bulged out of its socket out of pure horror. All the hair was burnt off. It was impossible to identify which corpse belonged to who. One of them had their arm decapitated, the other their entire lower half. James sat there, speechless. His heart raced, his face contorted. A silencing, deafening shriek erupted from his mouth, and his mouth began to bleed. He rushed over to the first corpse, nearly slipping in the large puddle of blood. He held its head up and stared for any signs of life deep in his eyes, yet the flame of the soul had been cruelly extinguished. He laid his hand on their chest, a small sliver of hope that there was a chance that he was alive.

No. That was not the case.

James rushed to the other corpse as tears streamed down his cheek. He did the same again yet again, the same result. Tear droplets fell onto the face of the corpse as all was left was bare pure muscles and protruding bones. James did not care about his own wounds and injuries. He knew his adrenaline would be enough to keep him alive as long as it was needed. James fell onto his arms and knees, tears rushing down and splashing among the blood.

Then he remembered Sir Robert and the others must be alive. He stood up and tried to carry both the corpses with him, but he could not. He just could not do so. He did not want to do so. He fell back onto his knees as blood and tears flowed down his face onto his stained suit.

Footsteps echoed as a deep, croaky and rusty voice echoed “Crying like a little bitch, are we now?”. James looked ahead and saw a tall, bulky figure. It was hard to make out through the dark but he noticed a large, crab-like right claw on the man, and a similar silhouette of a claw on his left. The thing was the right one was significantly larger than the other. A deeply unsettling grin rested on the man’s face as he cast himself into the moonlight.

The blood boiled in his own veins, to the point it began to pop out visibly. He stared deeply into Pistol’s eyes, his own bloodshot. He stood up, readying to lunge himself at this poor excuse of a human. Pistol raised his left claw and opened it, revealing a small thin tube. It began to whiz and spin uncontrollably before letting loose some bullets. James dodged to his right and rushed at the man. He did not care what destiny laid beyond him. He did not care whether he survived or not. Pistol did not move, nor react. He did not seem to care at the slightest bit.

James launched a punch directly on the jaw of Pistol, and stumbled a bit forward after making contact, yet Pistol stood there, unfazed and unbothered. He raised his claw to straighten and fix his jaw.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he responded calmly with a deep voice.

Immediately, he swung his large claw around and smacked James at the wall. He struck hard, leading to several bones in his ribcage cracking. He landed on his back, sore and throbbing with excruciating pain. He immediately stood up, and there Pistol rushed him and grabbed him by the waist with the claw and lifted him up. James stared deep into the soulless empty murky brown pupils which stared at him with profound resentment.

James felt the claw slowly crush his body, and began to shriek and scream. At any moment, his body would split in half. He struggled and kicked yet no use. His consciousness began to fade in and out until bullets struck Pistol. Pistol struggled backwards, blood rushing and leaking out as if it were a waterfall. He groaned, but James saw the same holes which had blood poured out of immediately close back up as if it were on command.

Pistol turned around while James, still laying on the floor, turned their heads to see Robert standing in the pale moonlight. Smoke slowly yet angellically ascended from the barrel of his rifle while he still stood there, fixated on Pistol. James attempted to get up but Pistol pinned him down with his claw and crushed him to the point of once again blanking out. He raised James high up above his head, and slammed him down.

What was the starry, radiant night sky with the moon basking in all her glory was replaced with a vision completely void of any light or life, but just pitch black.