Chapter 1;
I was leading a squad of men, children and teenagers. I am a teenager. My name is Beck, 15, from London and I lead a 9 man fireteam in the East of London. Thats all you need to know for now.
"Move, move!" I shouted, my voice barely audible over the gunshots and the small explosions that were going on around us, the rubble falling from broken buldings. The wind was pushing my dirty blonde hair to one side as my blue eyes scanned the area infront of us. Dust and dirt, carried by the wind, flew into my face, but I stood sternly, trying to figure a way out. When you talk in these situations you have to make your voice louder than the gunfire. Or, people die.
"More V's coming in from the west side Beck!" My best freind, Kent shouted at me. He had jet black hair, pointed up in the middle, then it looked like it had been brushed to the side. We were both wearing the same thing, some type of jeans. Mine were dark blue, I had a worn out black belt on and a Black T-Shirt with red spray point on it that reads; 'Kill the fuckers!' Beck, just had an old dusty ralph luaren polo shirt on.
"Alright, Bravo, I need you to position yourself on top of theese rooftops, quietly! Do not open fire on any hostiles until I give the order, yes?" I said sternly, facing them all as we stopped running, catching our breath while trying in vain not to inhale any of the dust or dirt in the air. The Fireteam was split into two, incase we needed to attack from two different points, Alpha and Bravo. In Alpha, there were 4 of us; Me, Beck, Jeff and Shane. In bravo, there were 5; Kyle, Rhys, Andrew, Tyreeq and Johnathon.
"Sir yes sir!" They said, quickly turning, running to there designated positions. As Johnathon ran, I noticed something, his hair was ginger. Its funny, really And stupid. The war had brought out the worst in people. Nobody really cares to socialize aymore. I have never seen anybody in my Fireteam without their helmests on. obviously, except Kent. We are allways together, because its safer, and we trust eachother enough. Its sad, if you think about it. Sad that, the only time any of us talked was on the battlefeild. And that was never about anything pleasent, really. I think the most pleasnt thing was learning that the mothership didnt return, when we expected it to.
I watched as the rest of them ran away, there rugged old leather boots kicking dust and dirt as they ran, leaving smal bootprints in the ground. Then I just, watched. The air, the dust. The dirt. I've been thinking. I would rather be, a grain of dust than a Human at the minute. So peaceful. No war, no fighting. You could just, float. Never-ending floating, through the air. Admiring the world for what it has. And, even if you stopped floating, nothing would change. All you could do all day was think. Think, in the peice and quiet. Admiring everything, taking details of every little thing in your souroundings, everything. But, here I am. Fighting, in a war. Agaisnt aliens. No peice and quiet, Gunshots, explosions. Argueing about a low food supply, slowly starving and reezing to death, watching others around die in pain. Feeling a surge of emotions rush through your vains, not being able to do anything about it, because, if you do, you'll die.
I turned around, slowly. I didnt take my feet off the ground, so small circles were made in the dust, beneath my boots. I looked at them all in turn, reading all of they're facial expressions. Shane, he was 13. Scared as hell, poor kid. His dad dies, right infront of him. Killed by a V. It ripped his fathers throat ut then left like nothing ever happend. He only became a fighter to honour his fathers memeory. He didnt like fighting, he hated it. But, he was good at it. Very good. He never misses any kind of target, wether it be a small can on a broken, dusty brick wall. Or a real V. Moving, running towards him. Or standing behind cover, shooting at him.
Jeff. His face and his eyes told different stories. His face, showed bravery, sterness. A will to never give up. His face was telling a really big lie. Its simple, he was that guy out of a teenage chick flick. The guy at school, who thought he was hard. Got any girl he wanted, and dumped them the next day. The player, as they were called. But, in the movies they're allways came a point when the geeky kid rose up, and the Player was too scared to fight, or save someone. You know, that was Jeff. The story in his eye's, was terror, cowardness, the voice in his head was probably saying, 'You can end it. Right now, you can lift the gun up and pull the trigger.'
Kent, I knew his story. I knew everythingabout him, every little detail. The reason behind that was that we grew up together. We went to school together, we allways stuck by eachother. He was so good at being a freind it was unreal. Now, we dont play together. We dont work together. We dont revise together, we fight together.
"You might not agree with me. You dont need to. We are about to walk into the hornet's nest guys! A suicide run. Well, I am. You two-" I said, pointing to Jeff and Shane. They immediately felt releived, I could tell, they're facial expressions changed. Alot. "Will be drawing attention over there. By the statue. Just, shoot. Try and take out as many as you can, while your at it". I said, kicking dust. "Your still here? Go!" I said loudly. It wasnt a shout, it was nearly a shout though. "Kent, stick about 100 feet behind me, okay?" I asked, he nodded, looking at me. I started running, kicking a few rocks as I did, avoiding Vampirian lights as I did. Just then, i probably had the biggest shock of my life.
So far.
As I was running, I saw a small gap, just big enough for me to fit into. I knelt down. looking through the small hole, checking through. There was nothing on the other side, but there was something blocking my way. A pipe, that was sticking out of the wall right across the small hole. I bent it, making minumum noise, and slowly did a commando crawl through. As I reached the other side, I pulled myself up, looking around. It was dark, I switched on a small torch in my gun, wich lit up the way infront of me. I was in the middle of a car park. There was a lower floor, and an upper floor. But, the upper floor had been destroyed. The torch lit up all the dust particles infront of me, I smiled, remembering my earluer thoughts, then started walking, past a beam.
Biggest mistake ever.
The beam didnt look dangerous. Not atall, not one bit. It didnt look as though it was going to collapse, either. Well, actually it didnt collapse. It was blown up. Just as I was walking past slowly, so I could wacth out for any V's. The stock of the gun was pushed up hard against my shoulder, my hand had a very firm hold on the grip of the gun. My torch was shining out infront of me, lighting up the darkness. Showing nothing I wasnt already familiar with. Dust, dirt, rubble. There were broken cars everywhere, wich im sure that were broken. Sometimes we salvage small cars that werent targeted in the first attack. Just because the resistance cant walk everywhere.
Little did I know that behind me was a V, I Didnt know until I felt an Icy cold hand set itself in my shoulder, twist me around and hit me in the nose with the stock of his gun. The thing with V's, they are abseloutely terrible at hand to hand. Knife to knife, that sort of thing. They are only good at Firefights, wich we can take to advantage. As I fell, my head hit the floor with a soft thud. He crouched down by me, punched me again while I was already dizzy, the world was spinning slightly, he was spinning. I saw the V have a small smile on his lips as he took my knife, he was bout to kill me.
My hand was searching on the dirty floor, for anything I can use as a weapon. Blood gushed from my nose. The crimson red liquid staining the floor, to be there until somones cares to clean it off. Wich, nobody ever will. As I was searching, my hand came upon a small rock of sorts. Well, more a jagged, pointy ball of cement. With little rocks and pebbles inside it, and a bit of a pipe sticking out. Brilliant. I quickly swung it and hit the V around the side of the head with it, the pipe went straight inside the side of his head, blood gushed from the hold. He fell, without another sound, no more smirks, no more smiles. I had won.
The V was dead. It was no longer a V, it was just a body. A lifeless, cold, body. A peice of nothing.
Just as I killed the V, the hole in his head was gushing with blood. Well, it obviously would, I made a damn hole in his head, exactley where his temple was, if they have a temple. When I pulled the rock away, the blood started pouring. It all made its way onto my chest, completely ruining the red spray paint that I put on there. Oh well, did it really matter? Not all of it made its way to my chest though, a bit of the crimson red liquid landed on my cheek, slowly hiking its way down to the corner of my mouth, tickling the skin on my way down. I honestly didnt notice, but I did after it slowly made its way down from the corner of my mouth, to the middle of my bottom lip. I reluctantly licked it away, scooping the coppery tasting blood into my mouth, and soon swallowing it. It was abseloutley disgusting.
I sat up slowly, putting my hands on my knees for support before taking them off, putting them behind my back for balance. the palms of my hands became even dirtier than they were before, dusty. Dirty. I didnt really notice a difference though, it was just another layer on top of the ones that were already there. I looked around me one more time, just making sure I hadnt been followed by another one, they usually arent seen alone. Unless they are scouts, wich are still usually seen in groups of 2 or 3. I pulled myself up using an old rusty pipe that was sticking out of a crumbling beam to my left, wich looked as if it could collapse ontop of me any moment, wich I hoped would mabye put me out of my misery.
I stoof still for a moment, taking in what just happen. Yes, I was that slow. Was. Looking around infront of me, I couldnt see my gun. The torch had broken when it fell, "Could have chosen a better time to brake..." He mutterd, his voice breaking the dead silence of the room. I looked around on the floor once more, not seeing it in the pitch black darkness that was in the small parking lot. I decided to kick around, mabye I might find my gun. I started moving my foot from side to side, making curvy line patterns in the dirt below, moving a few rocks from there place. "God damnit!" I said, louder than a normal voice, the room echoed over and over again, each time the voice getting further away, quieting as it traveld away towards the midnight air.
I wanted to try one more time, just to see. I had my sidearm in my pocket, I could use that. But it wasnt nearly as good as a assualt rifle, and, it didnt have a torch. Actually, neither did my assualt rifle anymore. I kicked with all my might, hitting my black, metal assualt rifle and kicking it over to the other side of the room. "Thank god.." I mutterd, slowly walking over to it.
I immediately stopped, shocked and glued to my stop, gulping hard and preparing myself for whatver was coming to me. I was right, he wasnt alone, he had a tank that was with him. A big blue, rusty metal tank burst through the concrete wall, creating a gaping hole in the wall. It ran over my gun, smashing the object into a million tiny peices.
I fell backwards, reaching for my sidearm. I felt around my pocket area for a while. Trying to desperately find it. The canon of the tank was slowly turning toward me, as I finally reached my sidearm, I pulled it out, not that it would do any damage. Crawling back as fast as I could, I raised my gun and started shooting at it. This was the end of me. I was doomed.
I closed my eyes when the canon pointed at me, shut as tight as I could possible shut them. I prepared myself, well I tried to prepare myself for death. Death was one of my few fears, before and after the invasion. I hated the thought of death. Nothingness, no coulor, no people. No anything. The scariest part was, you cant imagine nothingness. You cant, and I was afraid of living it, the nightmare of death becoming a reality. I was abseloutely terrified, terrifed probably being an understatement.
It didnt shoot. 10 Seconds had passed, nothing. 15 Seconds, nothing. Why wasnt it shooting? Do they not want me dead? It puzzled me, the though of it puzzled me. Completely scrambled my brain. The top opend. Very slowly, at first it opend a tiny bit, steam puffing out from the small gap. Then, it was pushed open, by a familiar person. But, his back was turned to me. "Hey, Beck? Your awsome at sticking on your own". He said sarcastically, a small smile on his face.
“You son of a bitch!” I said to him, an angry yet amused tone in myvoice as I watched him, who the hell does that?”
“Feelin' the love dude!” He replied, looking straight at me, a cheeky smile played across his lips as he jumped out, looking at me. His head turned slowly, looking down to the million tiny fragments of my old gun, lots of small black, dusty bits of gun ly across the floor. He looked back to me.
“Take a look in the tank, I swear to god you'll like it”. He looked at me, motioning with his right hand for me to climb in. I looked at him hesitantly for a moment, studying his face. Was he joking? I dont know, really. But, I trust him, allways have and allways will. I reluctantly walked over to the tank, climbed up the side on the small wooden ladder, connected by green string that looked like it could snap any moment. It was also breaking, loose threads escaping from the sides, blowing in the cold breeze that was flowing through the car park.
I reached the topwithin a couple of seconds, looking down into the tank. There's nothing special in there, Kent”. I said, looking at him after I studied the tank. A smile played on his lips as he looked at me.
“Go inside”. He said, I looked at him hesitently, he laughed quietly. “Beck, trust me”. I allways had trusted him, since we were kids. I used to get bullied alot, when I was a kid. Small kids, about eleven years old, mabye twelve. I dont have a good memory of back then. I chose to forget most of it. It was terrible, my dad was sent to prison for manslaughter. I would rather not go to deep into that, but it wasnt his fault. No way, was it his fault. And my mum, she didnt care anymore. She never did, really. She had allways been a drunky. One of those mothers that dont really care, that spends all of their time down the pub. They dont care where you go, just as long as your gone. Desperate, she was desperate. Dating sites, meet a guy down the pub. Any way she could get a boyfreind, she tried. They never wanted anything to do with her. She never bought any nice clothes, they were allways too small or too big. Allways tracksuit bottoms too, so I allways got made fun of for being a 'chav'. And, for wearing ankle swingers. My mum didnt care, so much that I never called her mum. I called her, Jane. That was her name, Jane. It was a nice name. It didnt suit her, not one bit.
Kent helped me out, the best he could. He had a good life. A hard working father, the type who would do anything for his family, who allways put them first. His mother, she was that caring mother, who loved her children more than anything. He was lucky, he had a nice family, a nice house with lots of money, and some siblings. I might tell you about how he helped ,e out, later. Mabye when its relevant.
I climbed inside the tank, landing on to feet, crouched. The inside of the tank was like a normal Human tank. Computers everywhere, confusing buttons placed around, lights flashing on and off. At the front there were two seats, they looked like leather, but who knew what they were? The driving controls were alien to me. To any human, actually. It was a blue holographic screen, with 3 two circles on the to left and right of the screen, and a target in the middle. The target was red, aiming at nothing at the moment. I was curious, so I walked over and sat in the left seat . I looked at the screen, raising an eyebrow as I put a finger on the red target Icon. I moved it, and as I did the canon moved.
“Woah...” I said to my self, letting go of the target. How do I shoot? I thought, I had to try. I double tapped the icon and it shot a shell out in the direction of the cannon, making a gaping hole in the wall. I looked behind me, back to kent who had a rather annoyed look on his face,
“ I ment for you too grab a gun...” He said, motining to a wall of guns in the tank behind me, that I hadnt seen. Just my luck, for that to be the only thing I didnt see.
“Sorry bro...” I said, looking at him. I looked at the wall, crawling out of the seat slowly, crouching when I was off the seat so I didnt smash my head on the cold metal rood of the tank.
“Dont worry about it, just grab a gun and go!” He said, grabbing his faveourite gun, the M4A16. It was camoflaughed with black and red paint. I walked over and grabbed my faveourite gun, the AK47 with no camo, just a black metal gun.
When I turned around, he was already sitting in the leathery seat, motiniong for me to sit in the other. “Your crazzy mate, I swear down”. I said, looking at him. He shrugged,
“Were all crazy, deal with it”. With that he started the engines and we slowly drove out the hole he drove it into. As we drove, I heard the cracking of rocks when they broke, and the wheels ride over the dust. Nothing shot at us, not anything. V or Human. I hate to admit, but his plan worked. They let us straight past their lines, into there city defences, where the humvees were kept.
“Kent, let me use the radio”. I said normally, looking at the back of his head. He shrugged, taking one hand from the blue holographgic screen to hand me a radio. It was massive, like mobile phones in the 80's. I started fiddling with it, trying to get the correct frequency for command.
4.8, 9.2, 7.3, I couldnt find it.
“Beck, it goes up one every day, so the V's cant crack it. Try 5.8”. He said, looking at me. I looked at him, knowing he was right. Allthough I was ranked higher than him, they never filled the gaps. I was never completely told what was going on, like they didnt trust me. But if they didnt trust me, why am I in charge of the best Fireteam in this resistance cell?
I tried the numbers, 5.8. It worked. I wasnt amazed or anything, so I spoke after about a minute of silence.
“Command? This is Beck Evans, captain of a 9 man fireteam on the frontlines of London, Do you copy?” I asked.
“Good copy soldier, whats the problem?”
“We need evac, were sourrounded in greenwich!”
“All heli's are out, soldier. All ground forces have been deployed, we have nothing to help you”.
“There must be something, anything!”
“No, im afraid not. Whats your situation...?” He asked. There was silence for about a minute.
“We're spread thin, sir. We cant regroup, they're everywhere.”
“Well, there is an extraction that leaves in 30 minutes”. He siaghed a long, deep heavy sigh. “Its in belverdere, south east of your position about 10 miles out”.
“Thank you sir, we are on our way”.