After fighting my way to another crossroads, my division joins up with another division and we all march down the main road.
From two side alleyways on either side of the road, rebels charge out at us. While they are ill prepared and we are able to gun quite a few of them down with ease, the others are close enough that we must fight melee. Since we have bayonets on our guns, we are able to stab and hack at the rest of the rebels.
We keep marching, determined to keep pushing forward. If we want to retake our district, than we have to win this battle. And if we want to win this battle, speed is important.
Eventually, a rebel tank rolls down the street. However, before it can do anything it explodes in a ball of fire. The top opens up, and two rebels climb out. One is caught on the entrance and flails around in fiery agony before hanging limp off the edge of the tank. A second one fully climbs out, falls to the ground with a bone shattering crack, is unable to extinguish the flames, and dies in worse agony. Inside the tank are the screams of two more rebel soldiers who are trapped inside and doomed to be oven baked.
I look to see what hit it, and from out of an alleyway emerges Montgomery. Over his shoulder is a rocket launcher, and trailing behind him is the cords of a parachute.
"Montgomery? Its good to see you're still breathing."
"Lyes! You're still kicking."
He walks to join us, and after he does we keep marching.
After reaching the post office, we find that the rebels turned it into a barracks and we fight to clear it out.
As we march through the first wing, rebels who just woke up are crowded together as they try to attack us. Though their weapons are close by, we are able to take advantage of the narrow hallway by using the flame throwers to burn them alive. The building codes of District 2 ensure that the building itself will not catch on fire unless these rebels sweat gasoline.
With flamethrowers, we burn through most of the rebels in the large Post Office. Soon they are all dead.
Plies and piles of charred corpses line the hallway in the wings of the Large Post Office. Since most of the rebel soldiers were in their pajamas, they got burned without any protection whatsoever. The oder of a human's burning flesh is not a good smell. In fact, there are few smells that can boast to being worse than the smell of burned human flesh. The smell is so bad that I do not notice the look of pain and mortal terror universally plastered over the blackened and charred faces of the dead rebels. Nor do I notice that some of the rebels turned their guns on themselves. Nor do I register the rebel screams; I suppose that hearing something too much causes the brain to not register that sound for a while.
It is so strong that my nostrils temporarily lose the ability to smell anything, a fact I only know once we leave the now secured post office and my nose is flooded with the cold fresh night air of the mountains.
Once outside we keep fighting against waves and waves of rebels. As we pound through their ranks, they die in droves.
Occasionally we will see or march past a building or a vehicle that is on fire. Most, but definitely in no way all, of the time the occupants were able to get out in time.
At one point I see what remains of a rebel whose grenade exploded prematurely. The right half of his body is simply not there; all around him are organs, bits of bone, and chunks of his flesh. Despite this, he is still gurgling and flailing in agony.
At another point I see a rebel who, while charging, slipped and on the combat knife she was holding. The knife went through her stomach, and it looks like she tried unsuccessfully with her remaining strength to get it out. She was already dead by the time we found what remained.
At yet another point, I see one of the peacekeeper paratroopers. His parachute was caught on a lamppost, and the cords got tangled around his neck. We took the time to cut him down, but it was too late. By the looks of it, I would say that he died of a broken neck and did not have to suffer the fate of strangulation. I am glad his visor blocks his face, as I do not have to see it.
After intense fighting, we reach the city park.