Battle of Mayapore
Disclaimer: Same as before…
"C'mon Mr. Chaudhuri, you should be off to the emergency shelter right now." Sergeant Hiller said as he saw the Indian barkeep standing behind the bar of the club.
"I don't think so." Chaudhuri replied, "This is my bar, I'm going to defend it."
"Really." Hiller asked, "And how do you plan to do that?"
"With this." Chaudhuri replied, holding up a small wooden box.
"You're going to hit them with a box?" Hiller replied.
"This is my old revolver. I used to carry it in the old days when I was serving aboard that Indian freighter." Chaudhuri replied.
"I thought you were the ship's cook." Hiller replied.
"That's right." Chaudhuri replied, "And every member of that crew thought he was a food critic."
Hiller opened the box, noticing the small pistol. "I presume you know how to use that."
"Of course." Chaudhuri replied, "And I have rounds for it."
"Good." Hiller said and looking the Indian bartender in the eyes, "Good luck old friend. I'd hate to come by here Tuesday nights and find some other wanker serving my drinks."
"Count on me being here then. On another note, you still have drinks from last week you've yet to pay me for." Chaudhuri replied.
"Put it on my tab." Hiller replied.
"You say that every week." Chaudhuri replied as the sergeant walked out. After he left, Chaudhuri checked the cylinder, making sure all six rounds were in place and the other twenty-four rounds were in the pockets of his trousers.
"The thing to remember," Dr. Poole began as all the nurses, medics, and stretcher bearers of the hospital were clustered in the waiting room, "Is that Heartless prefer to use their claws, heavy fists, or swords in close combat. So when they attack you can expect to see severe lacerations, broken bones, and blunt force traumas. All I can say is keep calm, remember you're training and do the best that you can. Report to your posts."
"Doctor," came Captain Merrick's voice.
"What can I do for you, Captain Merrick." Poole replied.
"I just wanted you to know that I'm assigning a security detail to the hospital for your protection." Poole replied.
"I'm going to have wounded people in here, Ronald, the last thing I want is a team of constables having a fire fight outside my doorway." Poole replied.
"Doctor, please don't count on your status as a medical officer to protect you." Merrick replied, "Heartless aren't too particular about their targets. Doctor or not, you may wind up having to defend yourself."
"I'm hoping I won't have too." Poole replied, and indicated the Webley revolver at his hip, "But if it comes to that, I'm ready."
"Good." Merrick replied, taking his own post outside of the hospital.
Prue gently touched Daphne's arm, "Will you be alright?"
"I'll be fine. I just to keep busy." Daphne replied.
"If you need me…" Prue replied, "I'll be right there for you."
"Prue, that is kind of you. But I'll have plenty of wounded to attend to." Daphne replied, "Why aren't you at the one of emergency shelters?"
"I'm here to take care of you." Prue replied. Daphne looked at her quizzically.
"How can you do that?" Daphne asked.
Prue concentrated on a pencil in Daphne's pocket and lifted it into the air and sent it flying into the nearest wall. Daphne dropped her clipboard and her eyes popped wide open, "H-how are you…"
Prue heard the sounds of multiple explosions, first one or two but then they started to increase in number. She had seen a few men with York setting up what looked like improvised landmines at various points around the town and near the outskirts on her recent excursions. They were designed to detonate either by detonators or by impact. They were coming…
Lieutenant Edward York glanced about the forward positions of Mayapore, he had volunteered to lead the twenty odd men. Less than two hours ago, Godfrey had been distributing carbines and shotguns to the men and the sections had run to their respected areas after rounding up the civilians.
"Did you hear that?" Constable O'Malley asked.
"Relax." Sergeant Mason said to the jittery Irishman, "When they get here you'll know it."
York could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The plan was for the Heartless to run into the minefield and reduce their numbers as much as possible before they hit his position. All of a sudden a thought entered his mind, one that years of reading adventure stories and epic poems of heroes had never prepared for him to anticipate. My God, I don't want to die in a sodding drainage ditch.
He heard a series of clicks to his right and saw Constable Mullins flicking the safety on his shotgun back and forth. York gave the man as stern a look as he could muster. "Sorry sir, my thumb got a little nervous." Mullins replied, "I wonder if the Heartless get jittery before a battle."
York looked at the nineteen year old, only a few years younger than himself. "I would doubt that." York replied, hoping to hell he didn't sound as nervous as he felt. He wanted to be a hero like his brother, who had earned accord with the 105th Indian Brigade in North Africa.
The first explosion, the first mine had been tripped followed shortly by the second. A third mine detonated. Still more mines began to go off one after the other in rapid succession. The last explosion faded into the creeping dawn.
"Maybe they're not coming." O'Malley began, "Maybe they're turning back. Maybe we got them all…"
The resounding inhuman cries echoed loudly. The first group of Shadow Heartless, the short, four foot creatures with glowing yellow eyes, clawed hands and antennae came charging towards British positions.
York's revolver was already drawn and he shouted, "Fire!"
The first shots were already being fired. The first rank of Heartless fell from the volley of gunfire, with holes blown in torsos and chests. Following behind the Shadows were a group of other Heartless called Soldiers, these stood a foot taller, with hooked red claws, the same glowing yellow eyes, but wearing what looked like a knight's armor with a crossed out black heart on the breastplate.
York fired his pistol at the first Shadow that got within an arm's length of his position, and it fell dead. He was grateful that Mason suggested making petrol bombs from empty glass bottles, fuel from a fuel truck that had sustained a flat tire earlier that week, and several old rags.
Sergeant Mason flung a 'Mason jar' a nickname for the petrol bombs he had devised into a pack of Heartless charging for their trench. Several of the creatures promptly caught fire from the flaming liquid. Down the line he saw other constables throwing their own petrol bombs. The scent of burning flesh filled the air and the forward elements of the attacking force were broken against a wave of fire.
The Heartless began to regroup and then charged back towards the forward positions. Once again, they waited until the Heartless got within throwing distance before dousing them with petrol bombs.
Mason was flung backward by two lead projectiles that struck him in the head and chest, killing him instantly. They came from two Heartless that resembled monkeys, carrying slings that resembled those from the tale of David and Goliath. Both of the erstwhile missile troops were promptly picked off by a nearby rifle pit.
York could see that the several Heartless had already breached the perimeter and the fighting was getting close. And he saw the flashes of steel, seeing more Heartless called Bandits that looked like the Soldiers but wore turbans and carried curved and sharp swords. He saw one slash down a constable and run past the dying man. York jerked the pistol up, shut his eyes and squeezed the trigger and when he opened them again, he saw the creature stagger back, wounded. Suddenly it lost its head as a burst of buckshot from Mullins' shotgun tore it off.
He could see that more Heartless, far too many than he could possibly hope to contain with his paltry force on relatively open ground. He had to retreat to the areas where other constables waited to detonate the hidden explosives.
"Mullins! Tell Godfrey the forward positions are about to fall!" York shouted, shooting another Shadow dead.
"Yes sir!" Mullins replied, running towards the rear.
As he ran on, Mullins saw several Bandits slash away at two men who were attempting to reload their rifles. The men were stabbed to death without mercy by the creatures and Mullins felt he was a coward for not staying and fighting with the others. But he knew Godfrey had to know that York's position was falling.
Prue could hear the sounds of battle across the river. The shooting was growing steadier and steadier by the second and already the first casualties were being brought in. Two Indian stretcher bearers carried a wounded British policeman between them. He couldn't have been any older than twenty years old. His left arm was in a sling, his right hanging limply over the stretcher's supports. She could see his shirt was unbuttoned; the boy's midsection had a gauze pad being pressed onto there by a fellow constable. His eyes took on the air of death, his breathing ragged and irregular. She knew exactly what the boy was feeling because she had felt it herself, the sense of life leaving the body and not being able to do a damned thing about it.
The memory of her own death, of hearing the grief of her sisters was especially strong now. She headed to the hospital's front door and could hear Merrick talking to an overweight officer.
"Sir," Lockwood said, "Permission to blow the bridge?"
The sounds of battle carried on the wind across the river. More explosions and gunshots began to echo.
"Granted." Merrick replied.
Prue felt the blood drain from her face. What the hell? Was this guy seriously thinking of stranding not only several of his own men but a good chunk of the Indian population on the other side of the bridge? She had to stop this. Her mission may have been to protect Daphne's unborn baby but there was no way she was letting Merrick and Lockwood just abandon hundreds of innocents as well as several of their own men on the other side of the river.
She managed to sneak out of the hospital through a back window and ran towards the bridge. Too late, she could see Lockwood standing with the detonator in his hands at around the same time he saw her. Her feet felt like there were cement blocks attached to them, her arm felt like it weighed a hundred times more than it did. Lockwood hurriedly twisted the handle and any moment Prue expected to see the bridge torn apart in a massive series of explosions.
The bridge remained intact. The engineers who wired the explosives had failed to take into account the fact that their blasting caps were wet; they had been stored improperly for weeks in the tropical humidity. No blasting cap equaled no explosion.
Prue raised her hand and sent the detonator flying upward into Lockwood's thick chin, sending the porcine coward falling unconscious to the concrete. She was about to run back towards the hospital when she saw several fleeing Indian civilians, escorted by a few constables. The machine gun on the other side of the river was firing steadily now, instead of in short bursts.
Godfrey made sure Worrel's section was in place after a damn near breathless Mullins warned him about the state of York's position. They were going to start ambushing the survivors of the line of traps he'd set. Bless you York. Already the survivors from York's section were clearing the explosive traps. At his command the men would detonate them and then Worrel's group and reconstituted tactical squads from York's survivors would pick them off, letting the Heartless bypass them and then shooting them down from behind and from the sides.
Godfrey saw Edward York running at the tail end of his section. He couldn't help but feel proud that York was still doing his job, making sure all his men had retreated to safety. That pride was tempered by the fact that there were less men running towards the fallback position than York had started out with.
What Godfrey saw next seemed almost like watching a stop motion picture. A Bandit caught up to York and slashed him across the back. A Soldier Heartless that ran in front of him stabbed its claws deep into his stomach. Blood gushed from both wounds and from York's mouth. Another stab from a second Bandit made York scream into the air, an animal-like shout of agony uttered through cracked and broken teeth.
Godfrey swung his raised left arm down and several jars of gunpowder were detonated sending glass shards and pieces of metal into the ranks of the pursuing Heartless. Several lay in a writhing black mass of black blood and entrails.
Two constables ran into the open only to be cut down by hard lead projectiles flung by two small monkey-like Heartless who were accompanied by a Bandit. They made it two steps before Donalbain and Rees gunned them down.
Godfrey knew now the fighting would be a series of confused and bitter ambushes and sudden retreats to hidden areas. He had already dispatched a detachment of men to start evacuating the shelters on the Indian side of the river, leaving five other men at his position. Rees, Donalbain, Hiller, Sanjay, and Mullins were crouched around the radio.
"Sanjay, get on the radio and inform Merrick that I've emptied the emergency shelters." Godfrey ordered.
"Yes sir." Sanjay replied, calling the police station.
Godfrey saw a team of four men being chased by several angry Bandits through a narrow alley. One by one the Bandits were being picked off by other riflemen hiding nearby. As both teams of ambushers ran by Godfrey's position he motioned his group of five to ready their own weapons. More Heartless were pursuing their running teammates before Godfrey's team bounced them.
Sanjay, Donalbain and Rees shot first, their rifles picking off a pair of Soldiers. A group of Bandits came crashing out of a doorway at the team's flank and Mullins turned to face them. He fired the shotgun, blasting a two fist size hole into the chest of the first one. The shotgun bucked up with the first shot, and Mullins fired again at the second Bandit, decapitating it at the close range they were standing. The third was within swinging distance when Mullins fired again blasting away the top half of its head. Mullins fired again, but this shot simply blasted a hole in the Bandit's turban. Before it could kill Mullins, it fell backwards with a hole blown through its eye, courtesy of Godfrey's service revolver.
Godfrey flung a 'Mason jar' into the ranks of the other attackers. Three Heartless scrambled about in flames, bumping into each other and nearby buildings as they shrieked in agony. Sanjay, Rees, and Donalbain gunned them down.
Despite the ambushes and traps, the Heartless were still advancing inexorably towards the Mayapore Bridge, within range of the machinegun.
"Fall back." Godfrey shouted, when he saw several Heartless getting closer to their position, "That means you too, sergeant!"
Hiller was firing his revolver at several approaching Heartless before he lit the last petrol bomb that Godfrey had handed to him. He lobbed it 'round the corner where he could hear more Heartless heading their way. Shrieks and the sounds of bodies smacking into one another and nearby walls could be heard.
Hiller ran towards the machine gun position and when Godfrey saw his men were clear, he followed behind them, killing two flaming Heartless that blindly thrashed into his path.
Prue watched as several Indian citizens began to stream across the bridge, despite the best efforts of the British constables to control them. As soon as the machine gun started going off, and several Heartless could be seen fighting with the other constables on the other side of the bridge, the crowd panicked and a mass stampede began. The British constables were using the stocks of their rifles to try and keep the crowd from trampling each other, but the sheer mass of the crowd shoved them aside.
A woman carrying an infant in her arms stumbled when her feet became tangled in her skirts as she ran at the forefront of the crowd. Prue lifted both mother and child into the air using her magic, suspending them just above the crowd. Concentrating she set the mother and her baby down gently in front of the hospital.
Prue made sure she was out of sight before she astrally projected herself to the Indian side of the bridge. She passed through the crowd before she saw the men fighting in the trenches near the mouth of the bridge. The machine gunner which had been firing in controlled bursts, now began firing steadily. But something looked like it was wrong, like the gun had jammed.
"Godfrey, the gun's jammed." the gunner shouted.
Just then a Heartless jumped onto the gunner's chest and started to claw at him. Godfrey shot it point blank in the head and shouted, "Fall back!"
The British constables began to fall back across the river to the British neighborhoods of Mayapore. Astral Prue raced back to her own body, and when the two reunited, Prue stood up was about to run for the hospital, Daphne was certainly in trouble.
Lieutenant Lockwood had gotten to his feet earlier and shot one of the pursuing Heartless. A projectile struck him in the chest and sent him falling backwards and into a wall right behind him. He noticed Prue leaving the alley and shouted, "You! You bitch! This is all your fault!"
Lockwood turned his pistol on Prue and fired and she expected to feel the bullet tear into her body, killing her yet again but it didn't happen. The bullet struck a wall just behind her head and Prue wasn't about to stick around for the dying Lockwood's aim to improve. She had to get back to Daphne.
All around her she could hear and see fighting breaking out as the constables were herding the citizens into shelters as soon as possible while attempting to contain the Heartless. The constables were throwing Molotov cocktails at the Heartless, but more kept coming. They were breaking through the line heading for the shelters on the British side of the river.
Prue felt an impact as something struck her heavily on the back. A gunshot sounded off to the left of her, and she turned to see a Shadow Heartless fall off her back and saw Godfrey. "Watch your back." Godfrey remarked.
Godfrey felt a sharp pain tearing through his upper left arm as a sword slashed through it. He turned to see a Bandit Heartless go flying at high speed into a wall, leaving a splotch of its black blood and gray matter on the brick.
"Watch yours." Prue replied, she ran over to Godfrey, and added, "Get that looked at."
"I'll be alright, it's not that deep." Godfrey replied.
"For Heaven's sake Godfrey, you're bleeding..."
As she spoke she heard screams rising above the din of gunfire. Several Heartless came crashing into the church, which had been converted into an emergency shelter. The fleeing Indian civilians had also been jammed inside and apparently the door hadn't closed all the way.
Screams of panic, of trapped civilians could be heard. Godfrey ran towards the source of the screaming and several constables followed him to the church. His men dropped to one knee, took aim and began firing into the Heartless. More and more constables converged around the church, having long since fixed bayonets onto the ends of their rifles.
Sanjay came running towards, his bayonet fixed, the boy closed his eyes as he charged, turning his head away. His bayonet buried itself right into the side of a Shadow which let out a pained shriek. Several of its mates turned on Sanjay and one of them jumped onto the boy's neck and turned his head like a pickle jar lid, snapping it. Sanjay fell to the ground, his head lolling.
When the church attack had been broken, the Heartless regrouped and launched attacks against the club and hospital.
Merrick stood with a security squad at the entrance of the hospital in the driving rain of a wet season storm. He fired his pistol into the attacking crowd of Heartless, the rest of the detachment were either firing rifles or fighting at close quarters with bayonets, rifle butts, and fists. He shot one charging Bandit dead, then a second and he turned and saw a third Bandit about to swing its scimitar down onto his neck.
A gunshot sounded and the Bandit fell dead to the ground. "Thank you Doctor." Merrick said.
"Any time." Poole replied, the old service revolver clutched in his right hand.
Despite the security team's best effort Heartless were beginning to break into the hospital. Prue launched a stethoscope at a Soldier Heartless and the line fouled itself around the creature's neck. With her powers, Prue twisted, breaking its neck.
A sword wielding Bandit Heartless smashed thorough a nearby window and Prue launched a nearby scalpel right into its left eye socket, sending it falling dead, back into the street.
"Gah!" came a shout from below.
Prue took a quick peek out the window in time to see Godfrey disentangling himself from the dead Heartless' corpse. "We could use a hand here." Godfrey replied as he jumped up to the window sill and hoisted himself inside, "C'mon, let's go."
Mullins and Hiller waited below before boosting Rees and then Donalbain through the window. Mullins climbed onto Hiller's shoulders and Rees and Donalbain helped him through. Hiller leaped upward and Rees and Donalbain grabbed onto his arms and pulled.
"Oi, Sergeant!" Rees said, "Could you possibly eat less pastries if we live through this?"
Hiller's sleeve began to tear. Mullins grabbed Hiller's collar and tried to pull as well. Prue concentrated and began to pull the heavier sergeant in. "Maybe you could lay off on the doughnuts..." Prue groaned from the effort, leaning against the wall.
"Even the supernatural agree." Donalbain replied.
"Bollocks to you." Hiller replied.
"Barricade the front door." Godfrey ordered, "Mullins, Rees, reinforce this window."
"You, get that arm looked at." Prue replied.
"Nonsense, I'm fine..." Godfrey protested.
"Like hell you are, you're arm's covered in blood." Prue replied.
"An officer can't afford to desert his men." Godfrey replied.
"You're no good to them dead." Prue replied, grabbing a field dressing and some bandages from a nearby table. The nurses and medics were going about their grisly task of seeing which patients would be tended too first. The most serious receiving priority, and the lesser wounded would be treated later. Triage.
"Lend me your other sleeve." Prue began.
Godfrey extended his other arm which still had his pistol clutched in the hand, aiming it across the room right at Daphne. "Whoa!" Prue exclaimed, shoving his arm back down.
"Sorry, force of habit." Godfrey replied, moving his weapon to his other hand while Prue tore strips of cloth off his sleeve and wrapped them around the cut.
"Be careful where you're pointing that thing!" Prue remarked, "You'd think they'd teach you guys weapon safety."
"Well, repelling an invasion isn't exactly in a day's work for the Mayapore Indian Constabulary." Godfrey replied and wincing added, "Bloody Hell, when did you learn first aid? During the Holy Inquisition?"
"Quit whining. It's only a little rubbing alcohol." Prue replied as she swabbed some rubbing alcohol into the wound.
Donalbain walked by and said, "Sir, one thing we Welsh always say: 'A Welshman knows better than to annoy the supernatural'."
"Wise people, these Welsh." Prue quipped, tightening the improvised bandage. Godfrey winced.
"Thank you miss." Donalbain replied, before running over the front door with Godfrey a few steps behind him.
"So what do we do, sir?" Rees asked, as he joined Godfrey at the door.
"We defend the citizens we swore to protect." Godfrey replied, grimly, loading his last six rounds into the cylinder of his revolver.
"What do you have?" Godfrey asked Rees.
"Ten rounds of ammunition." Rees replied.
"Five." Donalbain added.
"I've got six rounds." Mullins replied.
"Four rounds sir." Hiller replied.
"When we're out?" Mullins asked.
"That's why you've got bayonets." Hiller interjected, "Remember we swore to protect these people."
The door gave way and several Heartless crashed through. Merrick was rolling around on the mud with a Heartless clinging to his chest. "Fire!" Godfrey shouted.
The men opened fire, until their last rounds were fired. There was no choice but to fight hand to hand...
The shooting outside intensified, far more firepower than Mayapore's entire Constabulary. There was only one explanation, the Pankot Rifles were entering Mayapore. The Heartless began to flee, first in ones and twos, and then en masse as the Pankot Rifle Regiment pursued them.
Godfrey and his men stepped out, surveying the aftermath of the battle. Corpses, human and Heartless alike lay in the muddy morass that were Mayapore's streets. Merrick stood shakily, mud caking his uniform, he staggered around the road like a drunk.
Donalbain pushed the dead Heartless off of his chest, and then stood. From his parched lips came a Psalm, "Non nobis Domine, Domine. Non nobis Domine. Sed nomini. Sed nomini. Tuo da Gloriam."
Many of the British constables knew the hymn and began to join in singing it as they walked back into their streets towards the shelters with medics in tow to help the wounded. "Non nobis Domine..."
Any wounded Heartless were instantly executed on the spot by the British constables. As he walked the battlefield that was his jurisdiction Godfrey saw Sanjay's corpse in the middle of the road. He hoisted the boy's limp body onto his shoulders and headed for the waiting trucks. A group of men carried York's body towards the same truck. Civilians wandered the streets looking for wounded or dead relatives.
After the adrenaline surge and focus the hectic pace of the fighting and treating the wounded wore away, Daphne Manners collapsed into Prue's arms and began to sob uncontrollably. The effects of both the fighting, the many wounded, and the rape of the previous night all hit her like a tsunami. Prue held Daphne close to her body, feeling the woman's tears soak into her blouse.
"Just let it out." Prue said, "I'm here for you..."
TBC