The scenery had begun to change; instead of hard, cold stone, we were entering a danker, warmer area, marked by stone brick. A stronghold; it was the very first stronghold I had ever been in. Despite the humidity, I felt chilled to the bone; something was not right in this stronghold. It had to be the Endermen; even down here, nearly at bedrock, the sound of gunfire echoed, along with occasional explosions. It was a good sign that our troops were still alive and fighting, and hadn't abandoned us.
"There's a way up to the lowest mining level from down here," the captain spoke quietly. I could read the patch stitched to his arm; it read NEWELL. Captain Newell led the way, his pulse gun raised and ready. He had long since taken off his mask, exposing his human features; the soldiers under his command preferred to retain their masks, hiding their humanity and retaining the visage of the monsters they were.
Captain Newell held up a hand; we all stopped dead in our tracks. Before us, an Enderman came walking by. It apparently did not notice us; either it was dead set on something else, or it simply did not notice that we existed. Either way, it passed without event. I breathed a sigh of relief, loud enough for everyone to hear; Newell peered around the corner, and signaled for everyone to follow him again. I was the rearguard, the poor asshole assigned to guarding our rear. I followed last, behind one of the InSec soldiers, and went into the main hallway just in time to evade the claw swipe from behind. I turned around on instinct, whipping my sword out and driving it home in the same Enderman's gut. The sword had no mercy; it plowed straight through, driving the creature into agony as it roared in pain, clutching at the blade. Black smoke issued from the wound; I pulled the sword out, my arms shaking, and decapitated the stunned and injured Enderman, felling it. The head dissolved into smoke; the body lay there, still smoking, blocking the doorway. An Ender Pearl popped out from its chest; that was two I had. Ten more to go.
"Was that the same one?" Wil asked, poking his head out from behind the other InSec trooper towards the front. I wasn't sure, but it sure as hell seemed like it. The creature had passed us as if we never existed, then teleported behind us and attempted an ambush. Only my quick thinking and reflexes had saved me from sudden death; I was thankful for honed reflexes.
"So it passed us just to ambush us?"
"Lured us into a false sense of security," Newell replied, turning around to the group. "It wanted us to think it didn't notice us. Clearly, it knew we were here. We almost lost our man there."
Tar spat on the floor in disgust. I thought I could hear Jeff mutter "Sentient beings…that's more than a match for us." He was right. That thing was sentient; a zombie or a skeleton would never do that, not even a creeper. Lull us into a false sense of security, as Newell said, and then ambush us, having duped us completely. I was now more scared than ever of the Endermen; zombies were one thing. They had no sentient conscious, they only thought to kill. But these Endermen…they were different. I was eager to keep tight to our group, but I still held the post of rearguard. The others apparently didn't have the balls to take my job. I couldn't really blame them, not after what had just happened. But I was scared too…what about me?
We reached an iron door surrounded by tough bedrock. It appeared to be made blast-proof…save the iron door. It was a funnel, that's what it was; the door was the only place to get through, making it an excellent defense zone. What was on the other side though?
"Open your pack, Somers," the captain ordered, pointing to me. I came forward, glad to give my position as last in line to Tar, and opened my pack. There were C4 detonation charges in there, as well as a few blocks of TNT. I held the pack wide open for Newell as he pulled out the C4.
"Why not use the TNT?" I asked, puzzled. TNT would do far more damage to that iron door than C4.
"Contained explosion," Newell muttered, reaching deep into my pack. "TNT's far less predictable. I'd rather not have my face sheared clean off by an explosion today. Not after all I've been through." Newell took four separate charges of C4, and began sticking them to the door.
"Won't this attract the horde?" Wil asked. Newell stopped for a moment; he hadn't considered that. Neither had any of us; I now realized the predicament we had fallen in to. Newell pulled out a comms radio from his belt, and turned it on.
"Delta Zulu, Delta Zulu…do you copy?" he talked into the radio. A crackling buzz came through…the sound of static. Then, a voice began to echo through.
"This…Delta Zulu, come…Whiskey, do you copy? This is Delta Zulu—"
"Delta Zulu, I copy. What's the status up there, Hotel Whiskey?" I never understood military code, but this must've been HQ up on top of the ravine. Lucky bastards didn't have a clue as to what we were going through down here in this pit. Half of them would crap their pants at first sight of a zombie.
"Um…good news and bad news. First of all, where the hell are you guys? We lost your coordinates—"
"Bottom of the ravine. Our transport got hit by a creeper blast, and we plummeted. Pilots are dead, we're in the stronghold." I heard the receiver at the other end swear loudly. "At the bottom? Are you serious? How are you still—"
"Forget about that," Newell retorted, spitting into the radio. "Tell me the status first."
"Almost all good…we lost contact with your and Squads Echo and Charlie, they went down into the lower levels first…but Alpha and Mike are down there, we've got the hordes flowing back into the caves, sir."
"Good," Newell said. The radio was losing connection. "We're in the stronghold. You know the dropoff on the last level?" There was a pause.
"The one right over the portal? Yeah, what about it? You want guys to get you out of there?"
"What's the closest squad?" Newell asked, having to yell into the radio now. I was afraid another Enderman would hear us, but the rear was none of my concern now. My concern was now getting out of this deathtrap.
"Mike's closest…I think T-5 minutes from the opening…they can drop a ladder down in there, if you can get in…but what about the doors?"
"C4," was Newell's only response. A long pause on the other end; it was so silent; we could hear distant gunfire again. Only it was growing closer.
"Christ…Captain, you know what that'll bring on you…"
"The zombies, yes…they react to sound, but we'll only have to secure the one entry, and its five minutes until the ladder's dropped—"
"The Endermen are leading them, sir. They're actually forcing the zombies to retreat. They'll sure as hell be with the zombies when they come. They're heading for your position right now."
I could see Newell's jaw drop. I hadn't realized it either…the Endermen were leading the zombies. That's why they had been so coordinated today. The hordes trapping squads…the creeper strategically leaping at our gunship…the Endermen closing up the water source…they were heading the horde. They'd be with the zombies who would for sure be attracted to the sound of C4. It was either find our way through the endless maze of the stronghold up to the bottom level, or risk this.
"Get Mike ready. We're going into the Central Chamber."
I gripped my blaze pistol tightly. Half a clip…would that last five minutes? That would be put to the test soon enough, as Newell finished placing his C4 and pulled out the detonator…
