Chapter Sixty-Four
Fisher scrambled for the cover of a trench as a gout of flame shot through the space where he had stood. The heated air blew across his face and made his eyes sting. He rolled, came up on his feet, and fired two rounds at the Magmortar. The bullets evaporated before they reached it.
The southern flank of the Rockets' defensive line had a cluster of mortars, twelve machine guns, and two miles of trenches dug in layers to offer protected retreat. An airbase was hastily arranged from a derelict parking structure, with room for two dozen helicopters and fighter jets. Four-thousand men had taken position there, setting up sandbags and readying their weapons. Less than half remained. They had already lost the first mile, ten of the guns, all the helicopters, nineteen jets, and four mortars, while the Pokémon horde poured into the trenches.
Admin Colson beckoned to him from his command post nestled in the trench. Fisher clambered over the bodies of humans and Pokémon and shot a Primeape in the chest. When he made it to Colson, four more took positions at the entrance, guns firing in all directions.
"It's worse at the front lines," Colson said. "Celeste isn't sure how much longer they'll hold."
Fisher grunted. "Not our problem. Any ideas on how we can last longer?"
Colson looked over the trench. A rock slammed into his cheek, leaving a dent, but he didn't flinch. "We could try crushing it under a building. That apartment complex east of here might work."
Fisher turned on his radio and ordered a demolition squad to the site. A squad of Grunts cleared a path for them, but a fiery blast from the Magmortar took out half the men. The survivors lugged their equipment a few yards further and vanished around a corner.
"We better keep its attention on us," Colson said. "Do we have any mortars left?"
"Two, but they're low on ammo. They're on standby."
Colson looked around. The trenches had broken up into contested fragments, with men and Pokémon brawling over mounds of ash and bodies. Rockets gave ground foot by foot, and the Pokémon circled around them. Another ten minutes, and they'd be pinned.
"There's a few cleanup crews hiding in the buildings to the west," Fisher said. "When the Magmortar goes down, I'll have them break the encirclement.
"We don't have time for that. Is air support ready?"
Fisher looked up. Pokémon circled overhead, and a few specks on the eastern horizon bore writhing bundles. He radioed for air support to cut off the reinforcements. Twenty seconds later, two white streaks shot through the sky. Four bundles tumbled to the ground, and missles blew them apart. The Magmortar aimed up, and a thin lance of fire pierced one of the jets. One more fell as a Salamence and a Gliscor smashed its wings.
Colson's eyes darted back and forth as he examined data on the screen beneath his hood. After a moment, he said, "Have one of the cleanup crews rupture the water tower on Layton and Monroe."
"Won't most of it get in the trenches?"
"Only to the north. It won't make it this far."
Fisher looked back and saw the trenches crawling with Pokémon. One Rocket fired wildly into the throng as Zigzagoon and Ratatta tore him apart. He gave the order. Two minutes later, gushing water, stained muddy red from blood-soaked earth, washed into the trenches. Pokémon scrambled for open ground. They were mowed down with a machine gun.
"They're advancing to the south," Fisher said.
"Have them dismount the machine gun there and set it up in the trench. That should by us a few minutes. Have the northern gun cover their front."
The southern machine gun, now mounted inside the trench instead of behind layers of sandbags, chewed through the horde charging in the trench lines. However, the northern gun's aim worsened at the long range, and Pokémon pressed closer on the open ground, using Graveler and Boldore as shields.
With a word from Fisher, the mortars opened fire on the rock-types spearheading the charge. They split apart from direct hits, and the blasts knocked them on their sides. Pokémon were gunned down as they tried rolling a Golem onto its feet.
"How many shells left?" Colson asked.
Fisher consulted his radio. "Four. We'll save them for the Mag."
"If a single one misses, I don't think this will work. Have them load the first two rounds, and fire on my signal. Make sure the second round is fired in tandem as soon as possible."
The demolition crew radioed back, having set up the explosives and evacuated to a nearby underground parking lot.
"All we need now is Mewtwo, right?" Fisher asked. "I'll get a report."
It took half a minute to connect to Celeste. The radio crackled from her heavy breathing, and explosions rumbled in the background.
"What's the ETA on Mewtwo to our location?" Fisher asked.
"Mewtwo? That's been aborted. The center's been broken. You're on your own."
With that, she was gone.
The radio slipped from Fisher's fingers. He peered above the sandbags and swallowed. Two Tyranitar and an Aggron stomped across the battlefield, with columns of Pokémon behind them. Bullets careened off their armor, and grenades exploded harmlessly around them. Blasts and bullets took out a few Pokémon behind them, but more rushed up to take their place.
The radio slipped from Fisher's fingers and fell on the packed earth. "We're fucked. Time to retreat."
"We'll be roasted alive if we try," Colson said. "The Magmortar must fall first."
A roar shook the air around them. Gouts of fire and molten rock shot in the air. Where fire fell in the trenches, oil washed over the hardened ground and corpse piles, filling the pits with a raging inferno. Men ran screaming as their clothes burned on their backs, and a horde of Growlithe and Houndour rushed through the fire to hamstring them. Rockets were left crawling with their arms as the fire ate them from the legs up.
"We're being roasted alive now! Let's pack up and move."
"I have a better idea. Attack the Magmortar now."
Fisher examined Colson in grim silence. He picked up the radio, and with a nod from Colson, he ordered the detonation. A sharp crack echoed from the east building, and it toppled over the battlefield. Colson gave the order, and Fisher passed it on to the mortars. As the building crushed the Magmortar, the two mortar shells slammed through the wreckage.
Colson leapt ten feet in the air, sailing over the sandbags and onto the battlefield. Fisher poked his head out and saw Colson sprinting through fire and Pokémon, lashing out with his arms as he passed. Flesh and stone alike crumpled beneath his blows, and though flesh smoldered on his arms and legs, he kept running.
The Magmortar heaved itself out of the rubble. The aura shield flickered faintly around it, and it looked back at where the building had fallen from. By the time it saw Colson, the Admin had closed more than half the distance to it.
Two small pops announced the last of the mortar shells. As the Magmortar prepared a shot of fire in its right arm, the shells slammed into it. The shield gave way, and the Mag buckled under the blast. Fire poured out of its arm, and though it was pointed at the ground in front of it, a wall of fire rushed forward, enveloping Colson.
He ran on, burning from head to toe, trailing blackened bits of synthetic skin and flesh. The metal endoskeleton protecting his internal machines glowed dully beneath a haze of smoke as ash and molten rubber sloughed off its stainless surface. His hands were jagged points of metal held together with wires. His legs bounced as the pneumatic pumps, freed from their fleshy casing, had more space to extend and contract. Colson took bounding leaps that ate ground, spraying ash and dirt behind him.
Colson's right leg crumpled as he took his last leap. The pneumatic casing split apart, and air rushed out of it in a shrill whistle. He soared twenty feet through the air. The Magmortar rose and tried to raise the shield. Colson's arms slid without resistance through the feeble barrier and buried themselves deep in the Mag's chest.
The arms melted off his body. Unable to stand, Colson fell backwards, kicking with his last leg and writhing on the ground. The Mag shuddered, stumbled back, and fell apart in a gurgling fount of fire and lava. The fires in the trenches died like a blown-out candle. A chilly gust whipped over the field.
One Tyranitar had fallen with the building. A girder stuck out of its back. The second Tyranitar wobbled on its feet, with the stone plates on its back cracked and bleeding, but the Aggron lumbered forward, unfazed by the falling rubble. More Pokémon followed, but with the fires out and the enemy commander dead, the Rockets rallied. Fisher scrambled out of the ledge, ducked aside a jet of water, and fired into the throng. More charged with him, spraying full cartridges into the mass.
Fisher made a beeline for the Aggron. He thumbed the safety off his highest caliber pistol, dropped his other gun, and dropped to one knee. With a deep breath, he fired. His right hand went numb, and a jolt went up his arm.
The bullet hit the Aggron in the right eye. Blood gushed out of the wound as the Aggron fell forward. The Pokémon behind it clambered over its corpse and were gunned down by the Rockets following Fisher.
The survivors rallied around the Admin, forming a ring in the middle of the battlefield. Pokémon charged from all sides, and flyers assailed them from overhead. The jets swooped out one last time, and the air above cracked from exploding missiles. Only two jets remained, but the skies stayed clear.
The fight felt as though it had dragged for hours, but beneath the cover of smoke, it was impossible to see the sun. Fisher checked his watch. Twenty minutes had passed since the Mag fell. One man screamed as he fired clip after clip into the piles of bodies around them, and when he ran out, he grabbed at the nearest man and screamed for more. Fisher walked up to him and punched him in the gut.
"Get a grip. It's over."
The man hid his face in his hands and wept, cowering on the ground.
Fisher looked around, and saw the gleam of metal on the ground. Buried beneath a pile of ash was Admin Colson, burned down to the metal casing of his chest and the server decks in his skull. His leg twitched feebly, and mechanical eyes went in and out of focus as they looked at him.
"Holy shit, you're alive." Fisher grabbed at his radio and called for Celeste.
"Get whatever medical equipment you have and come to the southern front. Colson's down, burned to the metal, but he's still alive."
"Who is this?" a man's voice asked.
"Fisher. Where the hell is Celeste?"
"Admin Celeste is dead. Venipede crawled in through the air ducts of the forward command post. They were after her, sir. The buggers ran past other men and went straight for her. Nothing we could do, sir."
Fisher swore and threw his radio on the ground. Then he looked at Colson. His head was raised an inch, and with the stub of his left arm, he reached out to Fisher. A metallic hiss rattled in his throat.
The high-caliber pistol was lying on the ground where he had left it. Fisher cleaned off the ash with his shirt, walked back to Colson, and shot him in the head. The bullet dinged off the metal casing of one server and tore through another. Fisher fired again and again, his hand tingling at first, then dead from the repeated retorts. He reloaded with trembling fingers, spilling bullets on the ground, and fired again. Nine shots later, Colson stopped moving. His head was a crumpled ruin. Smoke wafted from his chest cavity, smelling of scorched rubber and molten metal.
Fisher looked around him. The sixty-two survivors had gathered around him to watch, leaving space behind Colson for stray bullets. Many had burns or half-closed wounds, and all were out of breath.
Fisher faced them all and said, "Thank you for your service. Now, let's get moving. We have a war to win."
Changelog
12/28/18 – minor edits