The 99th Platoon – Escape from Batula's Castle


(A/N The summer time lends plenty of hours to leisure and recreation but from time to time one finds his self in a situation that requires his constant presence at home for a number of days. Rather than rot away on the couch I have chosen to see if I can finish another chapter. Read and if you feel like it, drop a review.)

Chapter 6: Reason for return

"Open the door," said Sarge keeping an eye on the two corridors leading into the entrance hall. A sudden silence had fallen on the mansion that until a few seconds ago was teeming with, UnDead, life. It was the kind of silence that comes before a major assault. The kind that sets one's senses alert and hyperactive and sends the imagination into over drive.

FlatFeet went over to the large, well-polished door handle and twisted.

"Let's just get back in the cars and get the hell out of h-"
The doors flew open from the outside and slammed against the walls.
"Heh," FlatFeet smiled, "I'm stronger than I look…"
"Josh!" Cherry screamed. FlatFeet turned to see what Cherry was yelling at.
A long dead hand gripped his throat and hauled him over the threshold into a mass of zombies.

Every zombie that had formerly been in the house had moved outside. They had waited for the Platoon to attempt to leave…and then they had struck.

"FIRE!" Sarge yelled, raising his pistol.
"NO!" Cherry yelled, "You might hit Josh!" She grabbed FlatFeet's hand, the only thing visible from the black mass. FlatFeet's cries echoed around the hall as the Platoon looked on in horror. Suddenly FlatFeet's hand was pulled in violently and the zombie horde made haste to find a safer place to finish their banquet…

"JOSHUA!" Cherry screamed, running after him. She ran outside and tried to see through the dense fog that had collected around the house. Far off she could just barely hear FlatFeet and then…silence. She fired blindly into the mist before dropping the weapon and falling to the ground. Her shoulders trembled and then, slowly at first, she began to weep. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up.
It was Sarge. His face was as white as a sheet…
"I…" he stammered. "He…" Cherry shook her head and got to her feet. She began walking down the hill.

Sarge looked down at his shoes. He felt Deja come next to him and squeeze his hand softly.
"It wasn't your fault cuz…"
Sarge looked up and marched off behind Cherry.
"Where's he goin'?" ILZ asked.
"He's going to the car," Oreos answered. The Platoon looked at him.
"He can't leave!" said CoolGuy. Pyst laughed.
"He isn't leaving…don't think otherwise…"
Chael nodded.
"He's getting a gun."

Sarge opened the boot of his car. He grabbed sufficient ammo for his DDs to last the evening. The rest of the Platoon arrived.

"I've sent Cherry home. As for the rest of us, we're going back in there to get FlatFeet. And if not FlatFeet…we're taking that big-wigged bastard out. Help your selves to what I've got in the car and load up with anything else you've brought with you. Stock up well; fill your packs to near bursting. It could be a long evening."
 
Sarge had loaded a backpack with most of the necessary equipment when he opened the front door and reached under the driver's seat. Heads turned to look at him. Only Pyst understood.
"You keep your best, closest," he said as he draped an ammo belt around his shoulder.

M35 calibre. Heavy duty. Sawed off. Pump action. Shotgun.

He attached the shotgun to a sling and flipped it underneath his arm where it hung comfortably. He turned to see the others.
Deja's assault cannon had a grenade firing secondary function. Sarge smiled. It was the perfect partnership.
Oreos's traditional K7 Avenger was out. Sarge knew that there were twin PPK's hidden somewhere in that tuxedo as well…
RedStorm had merely grabbed extra ammo. His staff and sidearm were quite sufficient.
Squeaky pulled a pair of workman's glasses down to his eyes and fired a short burst of his flamethrower.
Stealth gripped the ivory handle of his kitana as it hung in its sheath at his waist.
CoolGuy tightened his fists and brandished the barb-tipped brass knuckles. He patted his Kevlar vest to feel for his sidearm. He was ready.
Chael placed on his shades. He tossed a final detonator cap into his backpack and zipped it tight. He slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder and nodded.
Twisted slammed a magazine into each of his twin uzis. He placed them in their holsters. He then attached his assault rifle to the sling around his neck.
Mon's backpack was different to the others'. It was filled with instruments to preserve life, not end it. Unbeknownst to the others Mon's med kit had been valuably upgraded during their last mission, the Tediz Attack.
ILZ pulled his red, yellow and green cabby's hat down to his eyes and lit a final cigarette. With his nerves much more calmer he would be able to aim his sniper better.
Dark was loaded with all the nice things that sliced and diced. Most of his blades shone with a peculiar glint…they weren't your average weapons.
Pyst was a walking gun turret. He had two ammo feeds strapped round his chest and a third was draped over his arm, ready to be fed into his minigun.

"Joshua "FlatFeet" Evans…" Sarge began, "he was here from the beginning. Against his will," he smiled, "I actually helped in that matter. But he was quick to prove that he was a brave soldier, a good husband, and a damn fine Squirrel." He paused.
"So soldiers, lets honour this brave soldiers memory," he armed his shotgun, "by kicking this Count's over-aged ass!"
A round of *clicks* meant that their weapons were loaded and waiting to be used.
"Let's move."

The entrance hall had a much more ominous feeling about it now, compared to the last time they had walked into it. As was expected the second all thirteen had crossed the threshold the door swung shut.

"So? Now what do we do?" CoolGuy asked Sarge.
"We've got to get our bearings…we've no idea where the Count is, all we know for sure is that he's here. This is some sort of sick game to him…so he wouldn't miss it for the world…I've got us a plan. Come close…"


***


"You got that? Okay, get those radios on, keep those weapons fully loaded at all times and let's get going."

Sarge, Oreos, Chael, Dark and Pyst walk cautiously up the centre stairway. Stealth, Twisted, ILZ and Deja take the left corridor while RedStorm, Squeaky, CoolGuy and Mon take the right.

*FfffsCLICK*

"Nightshift 2 this is Nightshift 1 over." Sarge.
"This is Nightshift 2 over." Stealth.
"Nightshift 2 we've spotted a bogey in what appears to be the kitchen." Sarge.
"Nightshift 3 here, 3 more on north landing." RedStorm.
"Can you take them out Nightshift 3?" Sarge.

*b-IT b-IT*

"****! Bogeys 2 and 3 down but 1's coming at me...I need cover fi- *sssssshhhh* Hol-*sssssshhhh* *BLAM* get me the hel-*sssshhhh crackle*" Red.
"Nightshift 3! Nightshift 3! Do you copy?" Sarge.
"We is on it Nightshift 1! Hold on Red mon!" ILZ.

"Sir! Bogey has spotted us! I repeat bogey is hostile! Permission to fire sir?" Chael.
"Shoot the bastard!" Sarge.

*bbbvZWING*

"****, missed!" Chael.
"Pyst take out the hostile!" Sarge.

"****! RED! DUCK!" Deja.

*buck......BOOM*
 
"Nightshift 2? Nightshift 3? Reply!" Sarge.
"Sarge it's hell down here! Bogey 1 called a few of its-" Deja.

*mmwwwahaha*

"Sarge they're coming from our side too!" Dark.
"I'm on it!" Oreos.

*tr-TATATATATATATATATA*

"Shit! Abort assault! Abort assault! Retreat back to the main hall! All teams rendezvous in T minus 5! Get the hell off a me you dead mother buzza!" Sarge.

*ch-CLICK BLAM!*

*FfffsCLICK*