The last leg of the journey was in many ways the opposite of the first leg. While the first journey from Cordoba to Curitiba was a journey through a land of economic and ecological recovery, the 1,500 kilometer journey from Barreiras to Borborema was a long slog through a desolate land in progressively worse states of ecological collapse. Further, though there was no major set piece engagement like the showdown at Rio Verde, harassment by demons increased to the point that even a few days could not pass without some kind of demon harassment. The IBIS walkers largely kept the small bands at bay, but when larger bands attacked, everyone had to be mustered at all hours of the night to repel the attacks, a few of which did break through long enough to inflict losses.
Chuck was reminded of what he told Jonathan many months ago, that the Oregon Trail was 3,000 kilometers long, and thought of how this last leg would be like walking the Oregon Trail halfway. He missed Jonathan, and though he made good acquaintances among his fellow soldiers, he didn't form the same deep friendship he had formed with Jonathan.
Also, for the last leg of the journey he didn't have any book to read before lights out, and in the times when there weren't demon attacks, felt boredom worse than he had felt the entire journey. Still, he could at least reflect on the memories of what he had read and learned from the first three history books. As for history more recently, he didn't need any book to learn about it. Chuck was 16 years old when King John Redmond of Britain took his own life, and knew by heart what happened in the world in the last few years just by reading the newspapers, listening to the radio, and watching television.
Pharol the Black had quickly moved up through Germany to the religious heartland of the British Empire, but turned towards the English Channel. He easily forded it, destroyed the Mexican defenses with a flick of his wrists, and began his destruction of Great Britain, now under Mexican control, and started a mass exodus from that country. When he was done with that, he destroyed the cities in southern Norway and Sweden, bypassing Denmark entirely, and then went back to Britain and across the Atlantic to Iceland. Last Chuck had checked Pharol was in the Atlantic, somewhere between Iceland and Greenland. But with Pharol the Black half a world away, the more pressing concern was to finish what America had tried to do in 1979 - attack the Gate to Hell and find some way to finally close it.
America poured money into research. Money for upgrades to weapon and armor had for years gone to making more of the same, and America was still using many of the same weapons in 1992 as it was using in 1965. Researchers came up with the new weapons and armor stocking the armories in Cordoba, and turned towards finding other ways to improve and give their soldiers an edge. Its scientists working at Dmitry Laptev Strait finally found a mechanical way to create the same kind of shields that the Greater Demons and Angels used. However, as with many first-generation technologies, it was bulky and had limited effectiveness. As such, it could only practically be added to the IBIS walkers, and when it did, it meant that it could only really stop one or two blasts from a Greater Demon, and the IBIS walker's armor would still be much more effective. However, a single lucky blast from a Greater Demon could damage an essential component of an IBIS walker, so even so the rudimentary shield a useful upgrade. For what it was worth, the moon bases had grown rather nicely in the last decade, and with such widespread death, destruction, and starvation on Earth, now 5% of the American population lived on the moon. That number would have probably been much larger of more resources had been spent on more and larger moon bases, but the purpose of those moon bases weren't to leave Earth to its doom, but just to ensure that if worse came to worse, humanity would still have someplace it could survive in safety. Thus, great amounts of resources were never spent on the moon bases.
With no further organized enemies, America resumed its invasion in Asia, finally taking Vladivostok and attacking and killing the two Angels still stationed in Mongolia to protect all of Asia. Meanwhile, the great Mexican battleship Manuel Azueta took a spiteful tour of death all along Africa, attacking and ruining every port city along the southern coast of Africa, even as they now posed no organized threat to Mexico.
It was here that world history intersected with personal history. On February 8th, 1993 Chuck got a letter in the mail at his house in Fort Good Hope, with information on the mandatory registration for the selective services. When he showed his Mom and Dad the letter, they were silent for a moment. All three of them knew that this day would come, and also knew that Chuck was dreading the day, but had little chance of not being picked for service. Chuck had always had an academic fascination with war, but that didn't translate into a personal willingness to join any armed forces. Chuck's father implored him to willingly joining some branch of the United States Armed Forces so that at least he could have more say in what role he got, and maybe get a signing bonus. Besides, if he willingly joined, he had a better chance of getting a support position rather than a frontline position. But, Chuck was adamant, and while he dutifully filled out the selective service form, he took no action to willingly join the armed forces. The slight chance that he would be passed over and allowed to go to college or join the workforce rather than fight was better than no chance at all, he figured.
Within only a few weeks after sending out the form, he got a letter back saying that he was drafted into the United States Army, with instructions on where to go and what to do. When he showed his Dad that letter, his Dad just signed, and mercifully didn't say "I told you so," though Chuck knew he was thinking it. Chuck was, after all, a white Anglo-Saxon from a Protestant family, of an average height, with good vision and hearing, no ailments, and in good standing at school. It was almost a foregone conclusion that the United States Army would want him. So, he packed his bags, and shipped out first to Yellowknife for basic training. There, he met Jonathan Jones in basic training, and the two hit it off right away, and became good friends.
When basic training was done, the new soldiers took planes from Fort Good Hope to Cordoba and did advanced training, and then passed the remaining months with leave, war games, and further training while preparations were finalized for the third incursion north. And thus, Chuck's musings on the history of the world came full circle.
As the army passed the ruins of Arara, the terrain began to change. Chuck noticed that there were no green trees, and the trees he did see were all dead. Also, the grass was not growing tall, and what little plants he saw on the ground didn't grow higher than 10 centimeters. He walked next to Sergeant Albert Smith and asked him about it.
"Sir, I know this area was nuked three times 1976. Do you know how much radiation is left over?"
"I just had that tested an hour ago. Currently it's around 1 millisievert per hour, expected to go up to around 5 millisievert per hour. Meaning, it'll only really do anyone harm if they stay here for months at a time, or grow food in the soil and eat it. If the first force in 1979 actually succeeded in getting to this place, they would have had more trouble with radiation. But eighteen years is a long time, and nuclear radiation isn't that persistent. Plus, all three bombs were in the kiloton range anyway."
"Thank you sir."
"No problem."