FH: WINTER

"Fort Haste: WINTER" is a recount of a tale set within the Pokémon world - one in which everything has gone wrong. Here we meet the final survivors as they struggle to endure through hell and beyond. An unknown virus has wiped-out most of humanity, leaving behind children which seem to be less affected by the disease. In an attempt to preserve what remains of humanity, Fort Haste was bodged in the months following the pandemic. Even now, the settlement remains at the very heart of the ongoing apocalypse. For everything that has happened and all the trials humanity has faced - Fort Haste stands as a vision of hope.

Please note, this and following chapters will contain both narrative and speech in various dialects and languages. Anything said in Pokémon will be underlined as shown. Normal speech will remain unaffected, although italics and bold may be used for effect following standard rules. For whistle calls *…something like this…* will be used, and any random flashbacks etc. are marked with {''}. Things get super funky in this chapter, so any telepathic speech will be shown by 'this' whilst anything spoken by Hauser's aura abilities will be kept to 'this' so you can differentiate between the two. Context should help avoid any ambiguities. It's messy, but it works.

Fort Haste is a work of fiction written as a collaboration between ZenColour and Just-A-Reader0Love

AUTHOR NOTES

Zen: So! There's been a huge delay with getting the rest of this story written and posted. In part that's because I decided to finish each story in turn, making FH my last fiction to tie up. R'love and I have written out everything and edited it, so now it's just a matter of posting things bit by bit. After debating whether to split this chapter up into two parts, we flipped a coin and made it a two-part epic. So they'll be part two, then one more chapter to follow and then a short epilogue. I've sped up the pace a little in these later chapters to get a lid on the project quicker, but it should still maintain the same rough-and-ready FH writing style as former chapters. At last we're both at a stage where we're happy with tying up all the loose ends, as well as the final plot point unpinning the whole story. Apologies for any clear typos in the text, this has been a right beast to edit. Otherwise, enjoy!

R'Love: Indeed, this is a massive doozy of a chapter. It has taken a long while, but here is the chapter you have been waiting for! These chapters have been in the works for a long, long while, so it is getting time to wrap this all up. I do hope you will all enjoy it. Read and review, tell us what ya think!

HAYS SNH Version 3 (0058 PA)

Forward written by H. Bennett and A. Good [EXTRACT]

9000406224992 - Sinnoh Outreach Programme for Historical Preservation

Oddly, two accounts exist for the period of Fort Haste's history lasting the first winter following the outbreak. These appear to be written by the same person. Although, they depict alternate accounts of activities during that time. The second record is thought to represent a fictional retelling of events with highly exaggerated narrative, including Feral battles and unnatural meteorological phenomena.

CHAPTER 11

An Extract from Hay's Journals V.I

There's that quote about battles being won before they're fought. Given the circumstances, I think the opposite might have been true for Fort Haste.

FENN'S POV

They approached like a plague. So many Ferals that their deformed bodies formed a spreading blot on the pristine landscape. Hundreds, if not thousands of the creatures swarmed out of the forest to the south. Even more had appeared from the flood pains to the north, spreading out to encapsulate and isolate Fort Haste. My breath hung in my throat as I attempted to rationalise what was happening. It seemed impossible, mutant Pokemon in greater numbers than I'd even though possible. Camp was a mere dot in the frozen agricultural landscape upon which the Ferals converged. I couldn't believe that so many of the beasts even existed. The congregation must have gathered from the entire region.

I was unsure exactly how we'd managed to upset the Legendaries, but this was their retribution anyhow. The plague was almost biblical in proportions.

'I thought the fookers would have started dwindling by now.' Jeff muttered, arms crossed as he inspected the approaching Ferals. His woolen rainbow scarf covered his neck up to his chin, vapour forming a small cloud that hung above his long nose. 'That forest is a tardis for sure.'

I grunted in agreement. It had been twenty minutes since the first Ferals had been spotted. Not only was it a long way for the beasts to travel, but the Feral's were taking their time. Like some twisted form of chromatography, the smaller and faster mutants were beginning to pull out in front. I'd have given anything for a decent set of binoculars. The organisation which the Ferals' displayed was incomprehensible. A rough symmetry existed between what began three swarms approaching from the north-east, south, and south-west. Even amid the dense clumps of beasts, their descent down the valley side was more akin to a chaotic march. It was remarkable they weren't even turning on each other. That alone was somewhat ambiguous proof that the Legendaries were at work.

I could only hope that Orion was right. My mind skipped ahead to the numerous possibilities that the God's were capable of. Then again, being overrun by Ferals might have been a fitting end...

'They're big.' I grumbled. Jeff and I waited on the embankment, squadron archers pacing the timber palisade as a way to keep warm. Already, large braziers had been lit to fight off the cold. Shivering in the stupendously frigid air, I struggled to stop my teeth from chattering. I didn't know it could ever get this cold. The cloudless sky above was a faded blue as if the very air was starting to crystallize. Even my bones hurt, legs shaking as the Ferals approached metre by metre. I wasn't sure if it was the cold dragging out their slow, intolerable march...or my own craving for the lachesism of the battle I knew was coming. Jeff oozed with panic, unable to stand still as his rifle moved from his shoulders to his hands and back again every ten seconds.

'How's it looking? Everyone in positions?' I projected out with my mind, unsure whether it was Kim, Hauser, or myself I was talking to.

'Yeah...like we've been for the last half an hour. I'm freezing my ears off here.' It was the Espeon morph who replied. The forced jolliness to her tone was the only indication of her growing anxiety. 'This ain't natural.'

'Those front ones are fast.' Jess noted aloud. He paused, squinting at the nearest Ferals. They seemed to be the smallest and more agile beasts, forcing their way through hedgerows a handful of fields away. Running the mental maths through my head, it estimated that it might only be another ten minutes until they arrived on the fringes of Fort Haste.

'RIGHT!' Jeff bellowed across the squadron visible on the southern face of Fort Haste. 'TEST YOUR WEAPONS!' The armed Hasties were already spread thinly, what with half of the force already constrained to nests up on the tops of the barns. Even accounting for Matt's Pokemon squadron to bolster the archer Hasties, it was indisputably inadequate.

Jeff's shouting left a fog in the air. His command was repeated in a strange version of telephone to circle camp. The cold meant that every snippet of noise echoed unmuffled between the farm buildings. In the distance, the growing roar of the Ferals was faint. It stoked the anxiety burning a hole in my stomach.

'You think we can even hold them here?' I puffed, frozen air making my nose sting. 'I mean-'

'The Lee slopes should hold them long enough.' Jeff was stomping his feet in an effort to keep warm. The squadron leader went as far to shrug. 'It's what it's there for, right?'

'Eh. Maybe.' I wasn't convinced. Sure, we'd designed the defences around camp as a deterrent against any attackers. It was an obstacle that might only stop a couple of Ferals, given that we could overwhelm them with arrows or rifle pellets. But to withstand so many? It seemed hopeless.

Jeff fiddled with the tube of an improvised firework bazooka leaning on the palisade by his feet. A collection of rounds were clipped onto his rifle strap. Given that the improvised RPG shot modified fireworks, it looked like Jeff had a row of toilet tubes stuck across his chest. It was an ominous metaphor. At an age where we should have been playing pretend in our backyards, Hasties were instead fighting for their very survival. I couldn't push away the fear that we could never prepare ourselves for anything like this.

The largest beasts were visible as towering spiders. In fact, many of the Ferals were insectoid, or huge deformed Stantlers. Legs, spikes, teeth, and even wings? It was like bits of pieces of different Pokemon had been welded together into Ferals the size of houses. They pushed through hedges and toppled trees, cascading down the side of the valley towards us.

They were so close you could hear the monstrous feet make landfall, like the rumble of a small earthquake. Hundreds of feet pounding the ground. Rotting, fungus-covered figures straying closer by the second. It was like a wave of mutated flesh. Fort Haste stood silent like a rock against the incoming tide...or so I hoped. The fastest Ferals stretched out in front, leading the slower mammalian beasts which had more legs than should have been possible.

Even in the still air, the stench of the Ferals wafted across camp. My guts churned at the smell.

'Get everything portable.' I dictated to Jeff through chattering teeth. 'We're going to see if we can hold them on the Lee slopes...but we need to be able to back off and get cover a-sap. They might crash through the-'

'Yeah yeah.' The squadron leader cut through. He sniffed from the cold, jumping from foot to foot both from stress and to keep warm. 'I know what I'm doing.'

'We keep people alive. Hasties first. Doesn't matter if we take down a hundred Ferals if we're all dead.' I replied pointedly. Forcing steel to my tone, the reprimand was a clear reminder to focus. This was not time for posturing. Heroics were prioritised by the simple act of staying alive.

'Uh...We might have to.' The squadron leader forced a chuckle. It sounded hollow as he zipped his jacket over the tails of his scarf. It went without saying that we were both shivering. Jeff's eyes refused to drift away from his fervent study of the incoming horde. I muttered swear words under my breath. Not just against the cold nor the approaching Ferals which were already approaching the Lee slopes...but against Jeff's stubbornness. Ugh, boys.

'How's it looking?' I projected outwards once more before I could stop myself. whatever psychic link was present with Kim was mostly undetectable. Talking strangely felt like pushing thoughts into the back of my head.

'The same as it did thirty seconds ago.' Kim huffed back, 'They're almost within range to the north. Hauser's helping with the Squadron because it's taking too long for commands to come from Jeff. They're concentrating near the Keep as planned. I'm with Mike at the moment. We've got support for the Wildling Calv- Shit. They're in range on the east flank.'

'Noted.' I stilled the urge to vomit, stress like a vice around my stomach. 'Got the fastest approachers to the south too.'

My mental confirmation happened simultaneously to Jeff's. The boy's eyes narrowed as the fastest Ferals crushed the hundred-metre mark outlining the furthest parameter of Fort Haste's defenses.

'They're here…'

For such a large number of Ferals, the Lee slopes were nothing more than an annoyance. We'd meticulously planned the area encompassing camp to be a deterrent. Even something as mentally insane as a Feral would think twice about pushing through a field of barbed wire, sharpened stakes, and pitfall traps. Any normal bunch of Ferals might have skirted around camp and ignored us.

However, the mutated beasts arrived in such huge numbers that they ripped up the defenses like paper. Even if a Feral pause, it was simply crushed into a pulp by the stampede behind it. Like an organic wave of deformed flesh, Ferals pushed forwards those in front that were too weak, slow, or dead to get out of the way. Barbed wire was ripped like string, wooden spikes snapped like matchsticks as deformed bug-types bigger than houses stormed towards Fort Hate. Sharpened fencing stakes ripped into them sending smaller Ferals squealing to the ground only to be trampled. Entrails gushing out as the mob pushed, passing the hundred-metre mark and throwing themselves against the defenses.

Those at the front of the wave splattered across the Lee-slopes, creating a mushy carpet over which later Ferals stomped through unfazed. It was like watching a wave crashing against the shoreline. An unstoppable tide slowly rising to swamp camp.

'FIRE!' Jeff yelled to his group of archers, still scattered across the embankment. After a second of hesitation, arrows were hurriedly clipped over bowstrings and sent arcing into the sky. 'KEEP FIRING!' the squadron leader pulled his shoulders back to squeeze more air into his lungs. 'AIM HIGH!'

At a range of a couple hundred feet, the well-practiced archers had no trouble hitting their target. Given that the Feral swarm was as deep as it was wide, they were hard to miss.

However, it quickly became clear that it wouldn't be enough. The arrows were no better than throwing toothpicks at the Ferals. It was making any difference if any. Within minutes, the carefully placed Lee slope defenses were being squashed into the frosted ground.

'FIRE!' The young squadron leader continued to yell, as if a dozen archers could hold back the seething wall of teeth, spikes, and claws. A cloud of frozen air hung around his face as he sidestepped away from the main gate for a better vantage point. A large wave failed to get his attention, a few choice swear words forming in my mind as I dragged in a deep breath.

'JEFF! RETREAT!'

The Squadron leader was too busy commanding the sentries to even hear me. The roar of Ferals, shaking of the earth, and noise of wooden defenses shattering did the rest.

'Fook this.' I cursed aloud, 'Kim!? Can you get Jeff's attention?' Spoke quickly, my eyes darted back and forth across the encroaching army of mutants.

'Sure.' The tomboy's words felt like they were dropped between my ears, 'He's busy-.'

'Fook Jeff. Retreat. Get everybody up top. We'll shoot from a-'

Jeff suddenly stopped, half way through a command when he lowered his rifle and turned to face me. It was clear that the sudden psychic link had confused the boy, hand faltering as he tugged back the bolt on his gun. I was already waving him towards the central yard, slipping down off the embankment as I did so. What had previously seemed to be a huge wall of earth now seemed puny before the encroaching Ferals.

'Get. Up. High!' I yelled as loudly as I could. It wasn't clear whether the instruction had been passed on by Kim's psychic link, or if Jeff had heard my shout. The Espeon-morph must have been coordinating something behind the front line. A high-pitched white noise burst from the tannoy systems, speakers screwed to the side of each shed sparked to life. The feedback died away and Orion's course mirrored my own commands.

'bbzzzztt...Fall back! We're going to take the defensive on the scaffolding. Everyone on the palisade fall back to the scaffolding, NOW!'

I was already skidding across the ice, spluttering as I tried to get a footing over the slick mud. A small group of archers were already streaming back from the embankment. They didn't have to be told twice, given they could see the Ferals crashing closer by the second. I supervised a group scaling ladders up to the scaffolding. I resisted following afterwards, holding the base of the metal ladder so tightly that the cold stung through my gloves. A couple of Pokemon sped past my feet, smaller normal-types that Matt had paired with the archery Squadron to help carry ammunition.

'Get into the yard!' I pointed to the centre of camp. 'Orion, he'll organise you!' At this point I didn't check if they'd listened, assuming they could remember the procedures in the growing heat of battle.

The embankment emptied near-instantly. Only a few riflemen travelling more slowly with heavy rucksacks of ammunition were left, aided by a small Linoone. Frustratingly, Jeff had decided to hang behind. With his rifle clenched in his hand, he waited as a rear-guard.

'What is that Idiot doing?!' I mumbled heatedly under my breath, waving furiously back towards camp. 'RETREAT!'

Whether by choice or pig-headedness, Jeff didn't hear me. He hurried the last rifleman, jogging a quick check of the parameter. Impatience boiled in my stomach. He was going to get himself killed! I hung at the base of the scaffolding, holding onto the cold steel frames of the stack for support. Pausing, I couldn't see anything over the palisade but for the tallest, spider-like mutants.

Not that it was necessary. For all the trauma that came from seeing your home surrounded by Ferals, it was nothing compared to the sheer noise of the encroaching swarm. Imagine the stampede of thousands of Donphan, or even larger Pokemon too massive to be natural. Panting, hissing, screams of pain; it all mingled into a hellish cacophony. Deformed Ferals roared, driven into a rage by whatever madness the God's had installed in them. Wood splintered. A wail rose as a Feral stumbled into a pitfall trap only to be trodden into red mist by it's comrades. The palisade blocked that particular view, but I didn't need to see.

'HURRY!' I yelled, voice snapping. My hands clung to the steel railing at the base of the scaffolding stack. Teenagers hurried two stories above me, using the highway of wooden platforms we'd installed to spread across the rooftops. Stuck between the craving to flee to safety and my fear over Jeff's safety, my legs remained frozen in limbo. I knew I wasn't supposed to be leading the defense outright, but I could only swear irritably as Jeff continued to linger, making a thing of helping each Hastie personally. The squadron leader was only following the ethos we'd installed across camp - the innate attitude of strength together.

But our war against the Gods wasn't like that. This Feral attack was natural selection in action. Fight or die, I told myself; even as I turned and hurried back into the heart of Fort Haste. Arrows were already starting to fly from overhead as archers settled into positions on the rooftops overhead. Swanna-feathered shafts tearing through the air. I couldn't hear the thuds as they landed beyond the palisade over my own heavy breathing. That's if they were even audible over the guttural screeching of the attacking Ferals. The thin air seemed to buzz with their cries.

I jogged as fast as the icy ground allowed, passing down the side of the front shed and around into the yard. My feet skidded as I passed through the steel gates into the yard, checking over my shoulder for any stranglers. Jeff should have directed them all up the scaffolding piles. I could trust that the teenager was doing his job.

CRACK

The comparable silence of archers firing was shattered by the first gunshot. Another rifle fired, and then another, descending into a steady heartbeat of loud bangs. I called to the youngsters manning the yard gate, competing with the discord.

'Close them up!'

There was some finality to the huge steel gates baring the entrance into the central yard. A metal bolt was lifted across, marking the next position from which Fort Haste was to be defended. Shed doors came next, the wide steel fronts of the dormitory barns opening wide to cover the gap. It was something that had been practiced numerous times, a small team of armed hasties running to barricade the remaining space. A huge trailer was rolled down the small slope, brakes squealing as the flat-bed skidded into position. Arrows popped the wheels before the shafts were collected for reuse. The added weight, including the stack of old generators on the flatbed trailer, should have been enough to stop even the largest Ferals. However, given the sheer number of the beasts, I could already predict it wouldn't hold for long.

'Give me some updates Kim.' I mouthed, turning my attention to the collection of Hasties and Pokemon confined into the small yard. 'You up the Keep?'

'Nearby. We're surrounded on all sides. Ferals from the south are bulldozing through the slopes. They'll be in the ditch in less than a minute at this pace.' Kim responded almost instantly. 'They're fewer of them behind us on the flats. They're fanning out too.'

'Tell Jeff.' I nodded, eyes scanning the yard.

'On it.'

Out of the near two hundred Hasties, over half were manning the shed roofs. The scaffolding that had been quickly installed previously made a runway of paths that looped the central yard. The central structure of the old farm acted as a new palisade nestled inside our poor attempt at earthen embankments. Older Hasties acting as foot soldiers or runners, Wildlings on hold until commanded by their lead Sawsbuck. The large deer trotted impatiently around the concrete. Gurgling and guttural cries of the Ferals surrounding camp like the hounds of hell.

Jane had moved shop to the Foodhall. It was claimed the relocation was to ensure the makeshift hospital remained in a safe location. We purposely avoided explaining why there might be a need for extra space. The medic, dressed to the chin in a puffy coat, hovered by the entrance to the barn. Our eyes met briefly and I nodded.

'Is it looking bad?' Jane asked, a billow of steam matching her words. I shrugged, not wanting to admit how awful the outlook was. 'If the Ferals don't kill us, this cold will. I reckon most of us are on the verge of hypothermia as it is. The thermometer was showing minus seventeen...'

'We'll warm up soon.' I sighed. 'We'll-

'Fenn! There you are!' My reassuring comment was cut short by Orion. The Umbreon morph skidded to a stop beside me, offering a short wave to Jane. The bottom half of his face was hidden in a neckwarmer, tucked into the top of his ever-present green raincoat. It wasn't clear what direction he'd come from, but the morph was panting.

'Every-?'

'Yes.' My query was cut short, 'let Kim know, uh...get everyone away from the embankment.' Orion was already turning on his heel, slender ringed tail lifting to counterbalance the swift motion. 'On it.' Kim's psychic voice echoed only a second later.

'Where the hell is Jeff?' The Umbreon morph eyes flicked wildly between myself and Jane stood behind. 'We need the damn bazookas firing NOW. Quick! Come on!'

'Wha..!' I fell into step beside the morph. 'Let me know if you need help.' I called back to Jane.

'Yeah. Keeping everybody alive would be a help.'

I didn't have the brain power to counter the dry response. With a quick thumbs-up, I turned my attention to Orion. The morph was already chasing over to the nearest ladder leading up to the scaffolding highway above. With a grumble, partly against a woosh of cold air against my neck, I dropped into a jog.

'What's the plan?' I called up from the foot of a ladder. Cringing against the cold through my gloves.

'Fireworks. We need noise and light as much as the damage. Mike filled them with nails right?' Orion panted, offering a hand to pull me up the last few rungs of the ladder. The air was like blades of ice searing into my lungs as I sucked in a breath. Jane was right about the cold. I couldn't feel my feet.

'You want noise?' I asked, catching myself against a railing. Having scaled another scaffolding stack, we paused at the edge of the wooden catwalk now edging the shed roofs. Orion already had an RPG tube strapped across his back. You could tell the world was freezing as even the morph had his coat sleeves rolled down to his hands.

'They're communicating.' Orion itched at his neck warmer. 'Or the God's are talking to them somehow. Might be they're being controlled remotely, like machines. We need to distract them, split them up somehow. Mess with them.'

'Noise.' I reiterated. 'To confuse them?'

'Sure.' Orion motioned towards the south, over the walkway above the front shed. 'Think we can cover the most area from over there.' He twitched instinctively at a gunshot echoing around camp.

'Contact.' Kim dropped the announcement into my head. 'Just by the workshop. We've got three of the small spider-dog things in the trench.'

'They're here.' I spluttered to Orion, 'Contact by the workshop.' The morph nodded, choosing a walkway and leaping onto the nearest catwalk. Long floorboards had been screwed onto the corrugated asbestos panels, connecting a number of archer's nests placed at each intersection of sloping roofs. His ears bobbed in the cold air, an anxious gold pulse to his glowing rings. I followed behind, watching the wood flex under my feet.

'How loud does the tannoy go?' The Umbreon morph called back, 'That might work?'

'Loud,' I confirmed. A rifle shot punctured the air, the only sound reminding us that Fort Haste was fighting back. Now and then the sound of a firework erupted above the roaring chorus of enraged Ferals.

'Blast something out as loud as you can.' I talked aloud, forgetting there was no need to verbalize my telepathic requests. 'We want to confuse these Ferals.'

'Uhhh Fenn?' Orion looked back, confused as to why I was apparently talking to myself. I almost ran into the back of him, waving him forward impatiently. The wooden walkway was ridiculously slippy. Having Orion trip now and breaking a leg wasn't an option. Then again, even the battering he'd survived previously, it would take much more than that to hurt the Umbreon. I tried not to focus on the implications of that thought.

'Doing it now.' Kim's voice confirmed my request after a long delay, 'Give me a moment.'

Climbing over the crest of the front shed, I caught a glance of the ongoing battle. The situation was looking dire, the front of the Feral swarm already halfway across the Lee-slopes. Some of the smaller beasts had luckily weaved through unscathed and were attempting to climb the palisade. Given there was a six-foot ditch in front of a twelve-foot wall, it was no mean feat.

Two archer's nests lined the barn adjacent to the farmhouse, housing two pairs of twelves. The young kids took turns to stand and take shots, strings pinging as shaft after shaft were flung towards the approaching Ferals. Many of the beasts simply tanked the damage, too big and thick skinned to take damage. Their bellowed challenges were only matched by the cacophony of stakes snapping and the palisade already being ripped to shreds by a mutant Zangoose. The feral scrambled at the wood with claws as long as tractor tines.

We skidded towards the nearest nest as the world imploaded.

The pain was instant as 'She's Not There' by Santana erupted over camp at over a hundred decibels.

Orion was fumbling, feeling the eruption of noise like a blow to the head. Hands shooting up to cover his ears, I didn't hear the morph's yell as I caught him mid stride. It took a few disorientating moments to wonder what the hell was going on. I pushed him forwards towards the nearest nest, arms around the man as his RPG tube slipped off his shoulder.

'Fook!' I ducked instinctively as if the very air had solidified from the soundwaves blasting from speakers positioned below us. One had erupted into white noise, the electronics blown by the amperage. The steel shed below us began to vibrate from the bass notes, matching the intensifying earthquake of the Feral stamped. Dragging Orion into the shelter of the nearest nest, he collapsed into a heap as soon as I let go of his hand. I could see most of Fort Haste from the rough vantage point. Camp was already surrounding and a handful of Ferals deep. They too seemed stunned from the sound, crying from pain or simply the lame excuse for psychedelic rock.

'Fooking hell Kim! You could have given us some warning!'

'I would have if it was this fooking loud! Shit. Music.'

It was hard to call the track music when it sounded louder than a jet taking off. I cringed in pain, pulling my scarf off hurriedly. Ignoring the icy touch of air on my neck, I shook out the fabric. The two teenagers already in the nest didn't hear me arrive, startled at the sudden appearance of the two leaders of Fort Haste. I thumbed in the direction of the Ferals, a clear indication to keep shooting. Orion had curled up into a ball at my feet, eyes squeezed shut and unresponsive to my prodding. 'Get up!'

I yanked hold of his green coat, a flash of cold air rushing up my sleeve as I held him upright.

A rounded enclave of rectangular straw bales acted as protection, small notches left through which to fire. Wrapping my scarf around the man's ears, I roughly insulated the lobes in a woolen headdress. No amount of shouting could make myself heard over the sound of Santana. Pushing Orion behind the cover of the lime-rendered bales, I waved the boys unto their feet and towards their weapons.

'GET THEM NOW, THEY'RE DISTRACTED!'

I grabbed Orion's PVC pipe off the ground and shoved it into his hands. The morph's crimson eyes were red in fright, lips trembling as he stared back wildly. A spare rocket launcher was resting against the bales and I grabbed it along with a couple of rounds of ammunition.

'IT WORKED.' I yelled, tossing an improvised firework towards the man with a thumbs-up. It was clear what message I was trying to relay. Fire and kill as many whilst they were still disorientated. 'NOW!' I mouthed, unsure whether the morph could lip-read my request. The two twelve-year-olds in the nest had the resilience to keep on loading and firing. Arrows whizzed away as quickly as they could nock the shafts.

The blasting vibration of Sparky's music had stalled the Ferals for now. It was as if the bass notes created a shaking wall of noise in the thin air. A lone, mutant Ledian clambered out of the ditch only to take a firework to the face. It's eye ruptured under the burst of a hundred nails tearing through the weak flesh. I looked away from the green splash, scanning the Lee-slopes for any remaining easy targets.

Orion bounced onto his knees. His eyes were wild as he watched my face for a few seconds, before darting to the edges of camp. 'It...it...worked?' He mumbled, still clenching his ears with two hands. It was only through reading his lips that I understood his surprise. My hands felt like ice in my gloves as I picked up a firework canister and dropped it into the improvised RPG. The kids had been hard at work for the last two weeks churning out the rounds...but still there were only around two-dozen rounds there to fire. That wouldn't last five minutes with the four of us.

'FIRE!' I pointed at the morph's tube even as I lifted mine onto a shoulder. A flint and steel had been installed on the back as a trigger. Aiming towards a grisly Rattata caught in razor wire, I pressed the sparker. There was a pause before a huge whoosh of sparks and smoke turned my vision grey.

There was no denying that Ferals had swarmed Fort Haste. Although individually strong, it was from numbers alone that they could sweep through camp's defenses. The fastest beasts had fallen into the pitfall traps, cut themselves into slices on razor wire, and impaled themselves on spikes. However, for every Feral that died, three more took its place. Mutated Pokemon, even steered by the godly forces at work, balked at the slopes littered with painful instruments of torture. However, the insane beasts couldn't escape their fate. Shoving from behind forced the front rows of Ferals across the slopes, larger and slower beasts bulldozing their brethren like a red mushy wash across the defenses. Green blood couldn't soak into the frigid ground, steaming in the frozen air like pools of toxic acid.

Orion took a shot with the improvised RPG. I didn't watch the projectile, too busy loading another into my own tube. Fireworks to the face wouldn't normally cause much beyond a bad burn. However, the fuses had been wired short and the cardboard canisters lined with bags of screw, bolts, rusted forks, and anything that was small and sharp. Within thirty metres the fireworks exploded with a burst of sound, orange sparks, and a high-velocity cloud of shrapnel.

Those that had climbed over the mangled corpses of their unlucky friends were rapidly breaching the palisade. Climbing out of the moat and up onto the embankment, the Ferals were met by a wall of sound as Rico Reyes belted out the melody of another music track. Sparky turned up the volume once again, the sheds vibrating as the bass went from lively to mental.

Orion gave out a pained whine, in the midst of firing a rocket before the sound overload sent his squirming to cover his ears. The other two boys were taking aim, both squatting with their bows in position to shoot low over the lime-rendered bales. The morph's pained expression made me grit my teeth. What use was it distracting the Ferals with searing noise if us Hasties couldn't cope with it ourselves?

'I swear I'm going to kill that rotom!' Kim practically shouted through my mind. I could only agree, watching Orion squirm as he fought to continue through the noise. However, it was Hauser's own projected speech that interrupted the Espeon-morph's wailing.

'I've got Matt's team protecting the Keep. We've got three big Ferals over the palisade already.'

'Save the Sawsbuck.' I mumbled in reply, hoping the Lucario would pick up the mental note. 'We'll need them soon to hold the Ferals at the palisade.'

A shiver ran down my spine as cold air caught under my chin. Maybe giving-up my scarf wasn't such a good idea after all. Even the heat and adrenaline of battle wasn't burning enough energy in my muscles to keep me warm. The temperature was still dropping. I didn't have time to consider how or why, simply trying not to ignore the burning cold in my lungs. I levelled my improvised rocket launcher and the nearest Feral bursting over the palisade. It might have once been a Weedle once, but those times were long gone. Dripping with green blood, an arrow shaft sticking out of it's chin, the Feral bellowed. Huge fangs like a sabertooth tiger flared as I took aim at its eyes.

For a brief moment time stopped. A finger hovering over the flint-lock trigger of the PVC rocket tube, my vision widened to take aim. With a click, the weapon fired in a rush of smoke. I didn't even watch the resultant cloud of shrapnel. A roar of pain from a Feral below was confirmation enough.

It was then that I spotted Jeff.

'WAIT! There's still Hasties down there!' I yelled, dropping my own weapon, shoving Orion' tube to the side. The morph shot me a confused glare, lifting his makeshift rocket-launcher to point upwards. He followed my pointing, ears pulled back as he squinted at the carnage below. Blood dripped from the scarf wrapped around his ears. Wait...was the music really that loud?

The maingate had been the only true weak spot along the southern parameter. There the Lee slopes lacked a ditch nor the same density of defenses. It was all that an impossibly large mutated Ledian needed, pulling themselves over the palisade. Wood splintered under their weight. Easily the size of a tractor, the bug Pokemon ripped long gashes in its underside as it heaved itself over the sharpened stake. Green blood spurted out like water out of a hosepipe. It was so cold that even the cold-blooded bug-type steamed, vapour streaming off it's crooked wings as it roared, thousands of fangs ripping a slug-like mouth.

It wasn't apparent what the maniacal cry was for, until the Feral's head literally exploded. A burst of gunpowder and blue sparks erupted into a fireball which smothered the Feral's head. It's mosaic of lidless eyes splattered, front legs flailing as the adapted firework died out with a whizz and bang.

Jeff lowered his homespun RPG, taking a handful of steps backwards with what appeared to be an injured youngster tightly gripped under one arm. He wasn't positioned far from the nearest scaffolding stack...but it was clear the wounded Hastie was in no state to climb.

'I thought Jeff was up?' Orion mouthed in exasperation. I couldn't hear his words, but a mix of lip-reading and his startled expression allowed me to fill the gaps. 'This isn't good.'

Much to my protest, he shoved another firework down the white PVC plastic barrel of his RPG. The other two in the nest did the same, eyes darting between the leader of Fort Haste and the couple of Hasties thirty feet below.

'Try and hit the ladybug.' Orion lifted his own tube, pointing at the already wounded Ledian somehow crawling towards us. 'We need to give Jeff time.'

'If Jeff's down there...then who is-!' My yell was interrupted by a puff of sulphur smoke as the RPG ignited. A loud whoosh was barely audible over the music. The next Andrew Gold track was interrupted by what sounded like a firework display.

The Ledian was downed by another firework to the head. However, it was the first of many Ferals now pushing across the palisade. Even as Jeff was heroically trying to recover an injured teenager, pockets of Ferals were already breaching the edge of camp. The Ledian, reeling but definitely dying from blood-loss, had left a broken hole in our defenses behind it. It was one of many beginning to form, Feral's breaking into Fort Haste by a gruesome form of attrition. Dead bodies were starting to fill the ditch, creating a steaming green slope of flesh over the palisade.

'Jeff's left Matt in charge of the Squadron. He's using the archers to delay the fast groups.' Kim sensed my confusion, filling in the situation from the other side of camp. 'Hauser's in charge of the Wildlings'

'Matt's in charge.' I forwarded to Orion. The Umbreon huffed but didn't respond with anything, nodding while loading another firework into his white flint-lock tube. The small pile of explosives was already depleted to just five shots. One was grabbed by a young boy. He slid it into the RPG, aimed, and fired within the space of a couple of seconds. A huge woosh of sparks did little to warm the air. Instead, a thick residue of smoke filled the nest, acidic and stinking of sulphur.

However, the firework-come-nailbombs seem to be working.

'Jeff needs time. The wounded Hastie has lost his legs.'

'We're doing all we can!' I snipped back, barely able to refrain criticising the Squadron leader.

It would have been a lie to say that we were holding the Ferals back, but our defenses were definitely retarding them. Each time a mutant Pokemon dragged themselves out of the moat onto the embankment, a scattering of fireworks punched holes into their face. The tactic worked for as long as Ferals still struggled to climb up the earth mound….but deformed bodies were already filling the moat. Dead, bloated Ferals filled in the pitfalls, soaked up the shrapnel, and blocked the archer's shafts. The fallen created a green, bloodied shield behind which more and more mutants pushed forwards. Bigger and slower Ferals from behind shoved forward their smaller brethren.

Whatever hindrance the Azure tape had on confusing the Ferals...it didn't last long. If there was some hidden controller amassing the mutant creatures, the music clearly wasn't damaging enough. In frustration some of the beasts turned on each other, decapitating their fellow mutants as if to satisfy the rage in their souls.

Still, it only brought Jeff an extra few seconds.

'COMPANY!' I yelled, pointing at the sudden swarm of smaller Spinarak clambering through a hole in the palisade. Through the splinters and soil rushed the next wave of spiders, a RPG round ripping through their legs. Mounds of muscle, claws, and barbed spikes pushed through the palisade, unhampered by the loss of a few of their eight limbs.

Sparky was starting to tune down the volume, the tannoy speakers smoking from the stress. 'We're cutting it fine!' I called over the music. Only Orion's small tail wag indicated he'd heard. The morph armed the tube over his shoulder, aimed, and fired another round. Sulphur stung my nose as sharply as the cold. The two twelves in the nest had returned to using their bows. Arrows snapped through the air from each nest on the roof. However, the shafts were doing little more than cocktail sticks when compared with the huge Ferals. One Zigzagoon-like beast bellowed up at our nest, spittle moistening the air.

A firework exploded in front of its monstrous claws, knocking it back down.

'Jeff's still down there!' I pointed at the teenager, retreated slowly to the nearest scaffolding stack. Orion paused, cursing under his breath. He rubbed at the scarf still tied around his Umbreon ears.

'I'M…G...NG...T...M...' Whatever the man shouted back got lost in the roar of battle. He dropped his launcher onto the roof under our knees, trying again. 'I'M GOIN..TO...G...THEM.'

Orion was already bouncing on his toes as he announced his rescue plan. I grabbed his arm, unsure whether it was a protective gesture or that I'd already lost any hope for Jeff's survival. The teenager was sliding on the concrete twenty-foot below us, trying to assist the injured Hastie up onto the first ladder. I could see the situation playing out before it had even happened. With the wounded archer slowing Jeff down, both were at the mercy of the approaching Zigzagoon. The brown monstrosity snorted in the cold, padding towards the two. Instead of fur, the Feral had what looked like brown scales. Claws scraped at the permafrost under paws the size of car tires.

'I can't aim that low!' One of the young archers shouted out, his high-pitched yell barely audible above the sound of the Buggles. He went to lean over the nests' straw wall only to narrowly dodge a flying spine. Orion shook my hand off. Stretching to grab the nearest RPG tube, he reloaded and fired in an instant, turning the tube downwards at the last moment. A woosh of smoke filled the nest as another firework went high, bursting above the Feral. It did little but scatter nails which bounced off the Zigzagoon like water droplets.

Orion paused, surveying the growing disaster grimly. I didn't catch whatever it was he mumbled to himself. He fumbled for another round, breath steaming. The box of fireworks had already been whittled down to zero.

'Shite.'

Like a predator stalking its prey, the mutant beast plodded closer, a mere twenty feet away from the two Hasties. I struggled to get breath into my lungs. There was nothing I could do but watch the situation unfold. Orion must have realised the same thing, his body twitching in frustration. It was as if he was fighting invisible bonds tied around his shoulders, squirming and whining. I couldn't see what Jeff was planning. Any attempts at connection via Kim or even Hauser fell on silent ears. Tears pooled in my eyes and froze there, leaving ice clinging to my eyelashes.

The Feral pounced, claws outstretched to tear through the squadron leader. I screamed, unable to see over the edge of the roof.

The explosion that followed tore through the air with a tremendous boom.

It was timed perfectly. Whatever adapted firework ammunition Jeff was carrying exploded all at once. In a ball of smoke and sparks, a dozen detonations tore through the Feral as it howled in pain and surprise. A whoosh of flame burst over the lip of shed, lime bales barely sheltering us from the inferno. I screamed, suddenly aware of being thrown backwards as Orion rolled over my chest. I shoved him off, blinking tears out of my eyes.

'NO!'

As the sulphurous smoke cleared, the carnage below became visible.

Jeff's rainbow scarf fluttered down to settle on the shrapnel.

'J...Jeff's down.' I tried to force the statement into whatever space Kim was inhabiting in my mind. 'Get the f...first sweep along the palisade. Pick off these Ferals before-'

'Shite. Already on it.' Kim's voice cut through. 'We're getting casualties from spines and poison shots over the rickyard.' She continued to inform in a pressed, business-like manner. I didn't want to imagine how the Espeon-morph had experienced the teenager's passing. I stuck my middle finger up at what remained of the giant Zigzagoon, as if that would do anything.

Orion hovered by my side, eyes wide at what had just happened. 'Fenn!' He leant forward. The skin on his face was pale, ice forming on his breath as he hovered an inch from my ear. 'Try turning the music off and on again. Blast them again in a few minutes.'

'We can't keep…Ugh.' My heart was still pounding. Even if the tactic only worked for a few minutes like last time, it was better than nothing. 'We need to delay it as long as possible for the slow ones to catch up.'

'And then blow the slopes. ' Orion stated blandly, bitter at the further destruction to come. His nose twitched, the scent of Feral blood, sweat, and gunpowder most likely overwhelming his Pokemon senses. 'We need everybody in the yard before we can do that.'

'Got Sparky on it. Next blast in ten minutes. The Sawsbuck are ready when you need them.' Kim confirmed as if she'd heard the whole conversation.

The music stopped as suddenly as it started. My ears still rang with the silence left behind, whistling in pain at the instant change in volume. Ever so slowly the roar of the attacking Ferals became audible. Stomping, hissing, coughing, wheezing, snapping, and the sickening sound of jaws crunching. Whatever divine force was controlling the mutant beasts was doing a surprising job of preventing the Ferals from ravaging each other. All their rage and insanity was honed in on Fort Haste.

'We're going to need more in the nests.' I mumbled to myself, ears ringing. 'Ugh. We need…'

My brain spun with a hundred different options. We'd been planning for a large-scale attack for over a week, and still I felt woefully under-prepared. With Jeff down I could only hope Matt was taking the load...and Kim was ensuring orders were being passed around accordingly.

'Yup.' The Espeon-morph confirmed telepathically, 'Jane's having trouble.'

'Fook. In what way?' I responded shortly. Orion shot me a funny look as he began handing shafts to the two archers.

Kim's voice resonated between my ears. 'There's nobody spare to move the wounded. Got some spine flingers by the Keep and from the west. Taking shots from the palisade.'

Although there were less Ferals attacking from the north, the K'field and fewer defences meant that the more agile Ferals were already scrambling over the wooden palisade and into camp itself.

'They're surrounding us now? Any places we need to focus?' I rubbed my temples. Something smashed into the lime-coated barricade before us. I ducked instinctively, shuffling away from the roof edge. Orion yelped in shock, turning his gaze down to the Feral horde below.

'Poison types. Keep low.' Fort Haste's leader called, rubbing away a dribble of blood on his forehead. 'We're half way through the arrows.'

'Yeah. Surrounded and a bunch more pushed through with the K-'

'Get Roan to charge through them. We want to get as many clustered over the embankment as we can. What the hell is Mike up to?' I mouthed the thoughts, unable to contain them in my head.

'He's with Roan.' Kim replied matter-of-factly. 'Is there anybody we can spare to carry hasties back to Jane?'

'Orion can do it.'

'Do what?' The morph shot back a confused glance. He tossed over another bundle of arrows. Both the twelve were taking shots from kneeling, Orion keeping watch for any retaliation from the Ferals below.

'We need your help carrying the wounded back to Jane.'

'Where?' Orion jumped straight to the point, his face hardening into a rough frown, 'But can't I…' He trailed off, a strange longing dissipating in his eyes. He roughly prodded me out of the way, scrambling up and out of the nest 'Keep going until you're out of ammunition. Then fall back to the yard,' he instructions for the two archers was almost an afterthought. The two were still shooting arrows, though the return fire kept them hunkering below the bales lining the nest. Holding back a shiver, the nearest twelve nodded. I refrained from staring at their hands which had turned blue in the cold.

'Right.' Orion straightened, scampering onto the walkway. 'You coming?'

I nodded, once more following the Umbreon across the rooftops. He paused above the central yard, waiting for me to catch up. Here the walkways intersected, ladders down scaffolding to the yard below. I caught my breath, offering Orion a weak smile. The morph was shivering under his green rain jacket. I reached forward to gently uncurl my scarf from around his ears. Orion tried to shake me off, grumbling at the contract. Touching the lobes, they felt wet and sticky.

'Hey. You're still bleeding!' I didn't mean to scold. Orion held still long enough to recover my woolen neck warmer. The dark expression on his face told me it wasn't through choice.

'Oh shite!' The breath caught in my throat. Pulling the scarf away and Orion's black lopes fell flat, blood oozing from the base. He shuddered as frozen air surrounded the damp fur. 'Uh...can you hear me ok?'

Orion tilted his shoulders, 'Kinda? Everything's a bit fuzzy...'

'Get Jane to check you over.' I didn't want to admit that he'd most likely burst his eardrums. 'Then help her as much as you can. I'm going to get a better view from the Keep to help direct everyone.'

I knew that was never part of the plan. We'd decided that Jeff was to take the lead along with Matt and Hauser, given that combined they had the experience to direct both the Hasties and the Wildlings….but I was beginning to feel useless. Having spent so long directing Fort Haste's inhabitants and resources, it felt wrong to simply let go now. Orion's black tail was wagging gently. I reached upwards to adjust his neck warmer underneath his chin. Even though my thick woolen gloves, Orion's face felt cold to the touch. Small ice crystals clung to his eyelashes.

'I want to stay with you.' He practically whined.

'I won't be far. Go on. Jane needs you.' I gave a worried gaze as I pointed in the direction he needed to go.

The morph nodded, swinging himself onto the scaffolding ladder before he could dwell on the goodbye. It only took a few minutes to carefully skirt overtop of the Foodhall and cross over a rickety walkway into the Keep. The bale tower rose another storey above the farm buildings, a ladder taking me up on top of the stack. Even in the still air I felt the building shift and stir under my feet. Coughing, I inched closer to the edge. The cold was beginning to hurt my lungs. I barely registered the specks of blood on my glove as I wiped my mouth.

Things were looking just as bad on the opposite side of camp.

The number of attacking Ferals was much lower...but this advantage wasn't maintained on the K-filed. We'd dug as many defenses as we could in the past week but the pitfall traps and stakes lacked the density and sophistication that surrounded the rest of Fort Haste. Large swaths of mutants were approaching camp unhindered. Long-range Pokemon had been concentrated here to hold back the deformed beasts...and it seemed to be working. Greater firepower meant that Ferals could be picked-off by flying blades of glass or a blast of fire before getting too close.

Only a few of the fastest beasts had managed to burst into camp. They were little more than corpses now, oozing green blood in the deathly cold. Hastie runners skirted round the fallen forms to pass out huge bundles of arrows, leaving bloodied footprints behind. I hated to think of the risk we were catching the virus ourselves. Even if camp somehow pulled through this...how many would later die from blood-contact with the disease?

'We're getting a breakthrough to the north.' Kim warned me, a hint of panic in her voice. I felt the emotion rather than heard it. An imprint of her growing alarm at the back of my mind. 'The palisade is in tatters there.'

'Just get them to retreat. We can hold back Ferals from the nests for a-'

'Sparky's going to do another blast.' Kim interrupted my command. I stuttered, struggling to rephrase my advice only for Hauser's voice to fill my ears. His tone was gruff and for the most part emotionless.

'The Pokemon here are tiring...we can't protect the K'field for much longer. I see you up the Keep, Fenn. How deep are they?'

'Uh…' I mumbled, squinting across the farmland. The Ferals were steaming so much in the frigid air that a low mist clung to the field. I struggled to estimate numbers, 'Like ten deep? They've spread out a bit because the slow ones are falling behind. We're going to want to bunch them up a bit.'

'There's no time.' Hauser grumbled, 'We're going to have to hold them on the-'

'We do what we have to do.' I snapped back, talking to myself as much at the Lucario.

Pulling my beanie tighter over my ears, I wasn't able to stop the shivers in my neck. My head spun with every possible outcome of the battle. We needed to kill the fast ones and hold back the rest of the Ferals, building up as many against the embankment as possible. Given that their bodies had already filled the ditch, we could only hope to pile the dead high enough so that it became a hindrance. Whatever happened, we were going to be cutting it fine. We only had so much ammunition and a limited number of arrows.

'Get the Sawsbuck ready.' I muttered the thoughts even as I projected them.

'I've got Megan to translate.' It was Hauser who answered, 'We're going with the same plan.'

Grunting in accord, I surveyed the action going on below. From the Keep you could see over two-thirds of camp...and nearly the entirety of the amassed Ferals. We were truly locked in. Confronted on all sides by a thick stampede of monstrous creatures pushing and shoving in line to throw themselves at our defenses. The only barriers on the Lee slopes were their fallen comrades. Ferals struggled over the dead and dying to crawl up against the palisade, thick with blood. It was there that the Hasties waited. Sheltered by the wooden barricade, they shot arrows at point-blank range into anything soft enough to take the impact. Months of practice had come to this. Every arrow had to count.

'Mike's joining the sweep.' Kim interrupted my evaluation, 'He's going to start round from the-'

'Wa...With what?'

Kim didn't reply. Growling in exasperation, it was hard not to feel useless in the developing crisis. I was torn between jumping into the fray myself and providing another set of eyes from the top of the Keep. From here I could see how everything was playing out...Judging the approximate arrival time of increasingly larger Ferals only minutes away. The Sawsbuck were preparing in the yard below. There was a herd of around forty individuals, all speckled white and brown with their antlers raised high. The Pokemon stamped in the cold, ready to do their bit. For now that involved clearing the embankment...and bolstering our weakening defense.

Given Kim's warning, I should have been ready for music playing over the tannoy system again, but I jumped out of my skin all the same. Music suffocated camp. There was no warning as the air turned to sound. I cringed back, covering my ears. Thankfully the Keep was farther away from a loudspeaker, but the music still rumbled like a jet taking off. The Azure tape played so loudly that you couldn't differentiate the noise into anything recognisable.

'Go!' I shouted in my head

It was a while before I saw the results of my command. The Sawsbuck filtered out of the yard, slowly picking up speed to a canter. Orion had promised that the large deer-Pokemon were capable of taking down all but the largest Feral. I hadn't been convinced...but I was starting to change my mind.

The organisation behind their charge was astounding. The Sawsbuck split into numerous triplets in close formation, fanning-out and traveling around camp in an anti-clockwise direction. They filled the gap between the interior edge of the embankment and farm buildings, using their speed to chase down and impale even the swiftest Ferals. Trios broke off, the deer-Pokemon working in unison to isolate and quickly dispatch any mutant creature in their path. Ferals clambered through holes in the palisade, all fangs and snarls only to be battered by hooves. The Sawsbuck had their antlers lowered to puncture anything soft and exposed.

There was no compromise to their tactics. The deer-Pokemon threw themselves at any attacker with a certainty born from their weight and strength alone. Kicking down anything in their path, two more from the trio would spear the Feral from both sides repeatedly, not caring about the green bodily fluids gushing over their heads. Downed mutants' piercing cries were cut short as the pointed tips of antlers ripped out throats and hooves stamped down windpipes. I didn't know how high the risk was to the Pokemon, but their aggressive defense was selfless whatever danger there was of catching the virus.

The noise of a car revving cut through the gurgling screams of battle.

'What the….'

A beaten-up red pickup came shooting over the rickyard the other side of the Foodhall. I struggled to believe my eyes. Huge steel bull-bars had been bolted to the front, covering a bright red bonnet. Whoever the driver was revved as they clunked up a gear, black fumes pumping out of he back. The flatbed carried what looked like rows and rows of narrow shelving, each stacked to the brim with what looked like the heads of fireworks. Extra steel plates had been attached around all sides of the ute, wire mesh coating the windows in substitution for bullet-proof glass.

So...this is what Mike had been working on for the past few days?

Whatever genius it took to wire up the multi-shot explosives clung to sides of the vehicle...it paid off. Rockets seemed to fire on command, huge explosions of smoke and shrapnel which turned nearby Ferals to mincemeat. Similar to the tactics of the Sawsbuck, Mike used a combination of speed, bulk, and hefty bull-bars. The ute simply drove through whatever Feral was in the way. Spikes added to the hubcaps of the truck making the vehicle look like something from Mad Max. They were effective nonetheless, tearing out the legs from under the beasts before they could scramble out of the way.

You didn't need to hear the sound of bones shattering to know it was working. I could only imagine the teenager's glee at the destruction he was creating.

'Is it just Mike in that thing?' The question was supposed to be rhetorical, but Kim answered anyhow. The morph's voice sounded irritated about the continued disturbances.

'Yeah… and It's working.'

The sound of Mike blasting two huge multishot rockets pointing over the front of his cap seemed like a roar of defiance. Hidden from view behind the farm buildings, I could only hope Kim was right. The more Ferals the beaten-up old pickup ground destroy, the better. The Sawsbucks' charge had deteriorated into bunches, fighting tooth and nail to nail anything in their path. They'd swept around most of camp now, working in small groups to dispatch anything that managed to force it's way over the embankment.

All of this worked towards a single purpose. Not only to kill as many Ferals as we could, but to hold them for as long as possible against the palisade. The longer we could defend the embankment surrounding Fort Haste, the more Ferals piled up in their hellish mob against the enclosing mound. The task was becoming increasingly difficult as the wooden palisade had been crippled further by each attacking monster. In many places the old beams were shattered. More Ferals forced their way through the gaping holes with each second.

'Come on…!'

The tide looked like it was turning...but Fort Haste's resources could only last so long. From my position on top of the Keep, I could see huge concentrations of Ferals already forcing through what remained of the Lee-slopes. No matter what we did, there always seemed to be more.

'Just hold on.' I mumbled to myself. Now that the palisade has been beaten to a pulp and massive, lumbering Ferals were clambering up the embankment, it was going to be difficult to hold them back. Mutant beasts were streaming over the embankment faster than they could be stopped. The defenders were slowly becoming overwhelmed by numbers. Squadron members could only shoot arrows so fast, filling the air with tens to hundreds of shafts. The mutant abominations were dying but it only seemed to help later waves, bodies shielding arrows and filling pitfall traps.

'That's the end of our assigned rifle bullets.' Hauser's voice was dour, 'We're using reserves now. We're looking short on arrows too...only got about eight more bundles here...'

The Lucario's warning confirmed my fears. I hadn't heard a firework for a few minutes, and it was only a matter of time until the archers found their quivers were empty. Once the arrows were all spent, we'd literally be fighting with sticks and stones.

The Sawsbucks' circuit around camp had turned into small detached forays as three of the deer faced isolated Ferals. They fought tirelessly, sparring with mutant Pokemon which roared back with corroded, rotting teeth. Hit and run tactics were only delaying the Ferals, the Sawsbuck constantly moving less they became surrounded. Without the heavy firepower of RPG rockets to distract the mutants the battle had turned into an intense struggle with the Sawsbuck at the front line.

But even the Wildlings were tiring. The long-range Pokemon were spread thinly and didn't have the power to hold back the unending cascade of Ferals across the Lee-slopes. It was only thanks to Mike's ute that we hadn't been overrun already. He drove across the field, swerving around barbed wire to line up a shot. A burst of rockets launched from the bed of the ute at point blank range into the face of an insectoid Feral. The rounds were perfectly timed. The beast collapsed even as Mike shot past, fumes bellowing out behind the vehicle. Mike steered the car, drifting across the grass straight though a smaller beast in a burst of green. Some of the bigger rockets exploded only metres away from the tires, taking chunks out of the turf...but he could only keep that up for so long. Even fully equipped, the truck couldn't stop the biggest mutants and Mike was quickly running short of rockets.

Via a strange form of chromatography, the slowest Ferals were at the back of the swarm. Many were still out of range, struggling towards camp of legs too weak to support their tremendous size. Huge monsters the size of houses, bigger even. We'd need nukes to kill a Torterra whose shell peaked over two-storeys tall lumbering towards Fort Haste. Worrying about them would have to come later. Bile clung to my throat. We just had to hold on and get them as close as possible to the embankment.

But it wasn't as easy as that. Camp was being swarmed by more Feral than I could count..

Hasties were fighting back fervently. We were shooting arrow after arrow in the cold, shoulders aching and fingers bloody. Those with rifles sniped the more difficult targets, the crack of shots echoing around the yard...but it wasn't enough. Minute by minute, we were forced to retreat further and further into camp. It was either that or become rapidly overwhelmed by the beasts piling over the palisade.

'We're falling back to the buildings now.' Hauser's voice sounded strained, 'There's too many. We're going to have to defend from the yard. Matt's sending most of the squadron onto the rooftops.'

'Noted. Get the Sawsbuck's back away from the embankment if you can.'

It wasn't an easy withdrawal. The coordination was achieved mostly via Kim, the psychic able to relay commands directly to each individual within the space of a few minutes. The situation was changing so rapidly that it was hard to keep up. Where a moment ago the Hasties on the ground seemed able to hold their positions, it only took one rampant Feral to change all that. The embankment bunched the Ferals up into a wall of claws and poison stingers that swept over the palisade like tide.

'FALL BACK!'

For some, the command came too late. Many Hasties tried to hold on for too long, realising too late that their bravery was ultimately futile. The children didn't fall back quick enough, too focused on their defense to realise they were already being cut off. Some tried to run, only to be caught by a flying poison stinger or the lucky strike of the faster mutant. Disengaging with the Ferals was a dilemma as turning your back on beasts was certain suicide...giving teenagers no option but to fight to the death.

I cringed in horror as teengers and children were killed before my eyes. My stomach dropped knowing that there was nothing I could do. An older child had descended down the scaffolding for a better shot, only to be turned into pulp as an astonishingly fast mutant Zangoose leapt up to tear through their legs. The slower Ferals now clambering up the Lee-slopes were the worst. Unlike smaller mutants composed of little more than sinew and claws, these were bags of flesh armed with leathery skin and shelly armour. Although slow, the huge beasts stomped through everything and anything in their path. Some flicked poisoned spines at anything that moved...including each other. Other insectoid Ferals had some kind of venom leaking from their mouth. Purple slime that was shot towards any recognisable target.

'Insley. Get ready to blow the slopes.' I mentally projected from my vantage point, hoping Kim would pass on the message. My hands shook from both the cold and a haunting doubt in my stomach. So much had built up to this moment. Unlike the rest of camp's defences, the ace up our sleeve remained untested.

When building Fort Haste all those months ago, Orion had the foresight to think ahead to dire situations like this. We'd bolstered much of the embankment with old oil drums and canisters filled to bursting with petrol. Combined with soil dug from the neighbouring ditch, it created an eight to twelve foot wall surrounding the majority of camp. Add a few kilometres of wiring and a bag of explosives from a nearby quarry and the embankment was our last resort. Not only a formidable wall, it was an encompassing barrier of dense explosives. Nearly a year later and I could only hope our preparations had survived. We were saving the potentially catastrophic explosion as an act of desperation...one that came far sooner than anybody would have liked.

'Kim. Get everybody either in nests or inside the yard. I want a full retreat to our second position. ASAP. Hauser too if you can hear me. The Sawsbuck and any Pokemon need to be in the yard NOW.'

'And the wounded?'

There was a long pause. My mouth was dry with the dilemma, the risk of potentially sacrificing the few to save the many. It wasn't our ethos, heck, Hasties looked after each other with nobody left behind. However, circumstances had changed ever since the Feral swarm was first spotted.

'Whoever's helping has got two minutes. Get Orion on it. He can carry two at once or something...We can't leave it any longer.'

I shuddered even as the thoughts manifested themselves. It was true, the slopes became a greater risk the longer we waited. Or at least that's what I told myself. It was a strange conflict of time...knowing the perfect moment to blow the slopes to ensure the largest death toll. Given that I had no idea just how big the explosion would be, the call was impossible to judge. By now so many Ferals were already over the palisade I could only hope it wouldn't be too late.

I counted two minutes in my head one second at a time.

Mike's converted pick-up roared in competition with the bellow of Ferals, tearing into the K-field. With all the rockets spent, the mechanic simply resorted to ramming the monsters with his bull-bars. It was a risky tactic. The noise of the engine and the squeal of mutants being slammed at forty miles an hour was another distraction for the Ferals...but perilous given the circumstances. Did Mike know what was happening?

The archers were shooting less frequently. A looming shortage of shafts meant that each shot had to count. There were no volleys to form clouds of the shafts. Only single shots honing in weak points in the Ferals' hide or armor. Young Hasties only went for easy targets closer to the palisade, timing each shaft for maximum damage. Those on the ground were steadily withdrawing, firing an arrow before backing towards camp a few steps. I was surprised at just how coordinated the retreat was. A bubble of pride rose in my chest. There was no rush back into the yard. Instead, Hasties paused below the keep, waiting for more mutants to crawl over the embankment. The frigid air sparked with the ping of arrows, the squadron shooting anything that moved.

Others had scampered up ladders onto the rooftops. The young teenagers in the nests covered those retreating below, firing arrows high to stop any enthusiastic Feral from charging. Given that the yard was barricaded on all sides but the west flank, many children took their places on the wooden catwalk above.

Time passed agonisingly slowly.

Something inside me struggled to give the command. It's not that I didn't want to detonate the slopes. In fact, there was an eagerness to create such destruction...an animalistic desire to hurt the enemy more than they had hurt you. No, what made me hesitate was what the action really meant. Blowing the slopes was our last trick. After that we had nothing against the Ferals. With our ammunition nearly spent, goodness knows how many already dead and wounded, and nowhere to run...this was our last stand. If the explosion didn't detonate or was too small to do damage, that was it. We had nothing left to give. This was the endgame.

There were no Hasties that I could see in the danger zone...but that didn't mean the same was true for the rest of camp. Orion might still be carrying back a wounded child. Some of the squadron might still be on the palisade. Wildlings might be defending still, Sawsbuck clinging on and unable to pull back. There was no way of knowing.

'Ae we...are we good to go?' I stuttered in the cold. 'That's two minutes.'

'Looks good with me.' Kim agreed.

That was all the encouragement I was ever going to get.

'Blow it.' I whispered to myself, uncertain just how much I'd grow to regret the command. 'Blow it.'

XXX

[4.16] Elton John - Don't Go Breaking My Heart (1976)

And nobody told us

'Cause nobody showed us

And now it's up to us, babe

Whoa, I think we can make it

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any events, location, and/or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The views expressed by the characters and/or the narratives do not necessarily reflect the author's views. This fiction is rated T and may be unsuitable for young audiences. 'Fort Haste' is a fictional concept that is owned and regulated by ZenColour. Viewer discretion is advised