"As Professor Oak clutched his arm in excruciatingly terrible pain, he reached for his trusty Survival Ax with his injured arm. There was no time to cry. There was no time to repent. The General was upon him. Soon, if he didn't get up, it would be all over..."
Professor Oak took account of his surroundings. The undead and the gored bodies were mere scenery at the moment. Now was not the time. Professor Oak had just left what he had known to be home for a long time. A H.E.R.C. Outpost known as "Hope" was where it was fought. The last battle, the last time he'd ever see them again, the last few moments he had shared with them were burned into his memory.
-5 Hours Earlier-
The men who had fought with him fought bravely. The select few other Professors even balled up, and was willing to wage war on the H.E.R.C. and the Army. This was their last stand, the last one hundred men he had left at his disposal. "Mercy" and "Requiem" had been overrun by their troops.
"ETA ten minutes, Professor." A private said, pointing to his watch.
"Aye. Set up the recon force over the ridge to the left. Make sure they're well covered." Professor Oak said, getting up out of his chair seated in the bunker of the fort.
The fort was well fortified, with reinforced barriers, makeshift barriers, a chain link barbed fence, and turrets. The entrance faced northeast according to the compass, with two turrets marking its opening. The outpost itself had seven points, seven turret towers. A barracks, the deposits, restrooms, and armory were all tucked into the right corner, everything else was blank ground. The plan was simple. Oak knew his enemy well. They'd first off aim for the weak point, a cracked barrier facing southwest. He had told the few select engineers to keep it unwelded; it'd set up a great trap. The wall, aside from being cracked, was also rigged with many plastic explosives, wired to a single detonator in Oak's back pocket. Of course they'd try to blast through the wall, but very seldom plastic explosives were set there. He placed them near the grass, on oil barrels surrounding the immediate location, and even one attached to a weakened Oak tree outside of the barrier. He had also planted several landmines and trip wires surrounding that specific spot. Of course, it costed him damn well all of his explosives, but to defeat the enemy, he had to take these special risks. Other than that wall, the only thing they could send was an aerial attack, or through the main gate.
Professor Oak had most of his men, aside from his Recon Team, around makeshift cover and roadblocks. Most faced the wall, even more faced the front gate. He had his two grenadiers in the towers, the other five towers were mere decoys.
"ETA 2 Minutes, Oak!" His SIC called.
"Roger that, Commander." He said, holding his grip onto the two M62 Grenades and Survival Ax. His SCAR was propped up against the makeshift barrier he and two others were hiding behind. One of the men with him looked at him.
"What is it, PFC?" Professor Oak called out quietly, looking at the man's rank on his shoulder.
"Sir, with all due respect, I hate this."
"Same here." Professor whispered back. He thought for a second. "What's your name, PFC?"
"Dune. PFC Dune." He said, barely a whisper.
"Love the Lord, boy?"
"Tonight either you'll be stuck in this hell, or dining in paradise." Oak said, solemnly.
"Sir, I'm afraid." The man said, nearly choked.
As Oak whispered those last words, the deafening crack of a 50. Caliber bullet struck through Dune's head, leaving him into nothing more than a mess of red and green. (The uniform, not his guts, you sickos.)
"First waaave!" The man called next to him. Oak dropped his survival ax, and switched it for his SCAR. As his men shouted their deafening battle cry, the first two technicals burst through the gate, one driving on its own, one without a living driver. Professor Oak glanced to the position of his Recon Team, his Specialist up there was doing business with these technicals. His own men opened their array of M4A1s, FALs, SCARs, and AK-74s onto the few men who were not protected at first. Professor Oak himself stood up, and opened fire onto five men trying to rush to the technical. Soon, Oak pressed his hand to his ear.
"Grenadiers, open fire on the technicals, make sure they can't be moved!" Professor Oak shouted through the carnage.
Soon, Professor Oak saw two grenade strips roll from the towers onto the backs of the trucks, then explode in a mess of shrapnel and fire onto the middle ground of the battle. Most of his men now were fighting hand in hand, using their combat knives and pistols as their men poured through the gates.
"Sir! They're beginning to assault the trap!" He heard his specialist say through his TAC/COM.
"Wilco!" Oak said, aiming through his sights and unleashing his remaining rounds into a brute of a man about to crush one of his men. The bullets pierced the man's Kevlar Vest, went straight through the flesh and blood, and caught into his ribcage. The man heard nothing but the sickening smack as the bullets hit him. Then, he felt a trickle of blood, then nothing at all. Soon, it was all black.
Professor Oak reached into his back pocket, and hid behind a half destroyed barricade. Soon, he heard the crushing sound of the wall cracking from their charges. They rushed through shouting profanities and cries, out of pure fear and adrenaline. Most of Oak's men switched their attention for a few seconds, seeing their massive force of at least one hundred charging straight at their blind spot. Then, with the press of a button, the force was decimated to about 1/3 its size. The tree held the most carnage. It ripped straight into the center of them. The charges ripped them apart, and the oil barrels that were destroyed soon held more damage. The men cried out in pure happiness as they realized they were winning. They switched into about half to both sides, one picking off those stragglers left from the explosion, and half taking those out still advancing from the gates.
Oak emptied his magazine and loaded a new one. He checked his watch from cover. It had been four hours and he hadn't even realized it.
Then, it was quiet. He glanced up, and saw that it was almost over. His men cheered as they killed the last of their enemy.
Then, a SMACK of a missile demolished both of the grenadier towers. They fell on some of his troops.
"Enemy Heli!" He shouted. "Take cover!" The Heli ripped its guns toward his troops, decimating the last 25 men he had left to a mere nine.
He realized he needed to take action. Professor Oak rushed to his barracks and grabbed his one last hope; a SMAW Missile Launcher. He rushed up to it and began to load it, setting it all up. He flipped it to auto-lock and rushed outside, seeing that the heli was going for a second run. He heard the soft beeping noises the missile launcher made as it locked on, then he heard a loud ring, signifying that it was ready. He pressed the trigger, and flung back, the launcher flying back and hitting a building as Oak fell down. He saw it happen, the Heli crash, and then, he saw it knock over debris. He realized this was his last moments as it struck him.
-40 minutes later-
Professor Oak's vision was blurred as he heard it. A gunshot was heard through the ringing in his ears. He saw that he was still alive, but the debris had most likely caused damage. He didn't care. As his vision came back to him, he saw him.
General Jackson. He was standing a few meters away, with a Sportshot 45. in his hand, aiming at a barely living soldier raising his head. He heard the gunshot again. Soon, the General came closer to Oak's position. He tried to reach with his left arm, but realized that he had taken a gunshot wound to his arm.
As Professor Oak clutched his arm in excruciatingly terrible pain, he reached for his trusty Survival Ax with his injured arm. There was no time to cry. There was no time to repent. The General was upon him. Soon, if he didn't get up, it would be all over. He finally reached and clasped the handle. He firmly gripped it as he stood up, and began his attack. The general saw him.
"Professor." the General said, smiling.
"Douche." Oak said weakly back, switching the survival ax to his strong arm.
"I didn't want this. Why couldn't you have stayed with us? You could have been okay! You wouldn't need to spend all of these lives proving a point!"
"I...don't c-care." Professor Oak mustered. " These men I harbored, these men who joined up with me, they all became my family. Every time they grieved, pieces of their memories became mine as well. That's what it's like when you're a family. Every time a soldier was on cloud nine, we all floated. When one of us was outraged, we all clench our teeth. When a member grieved, we all wiped our eyes."
"I don't care. No kindness can be shown during these times." The Jackson then aimed his Sportshot 45. at Oak.
Oak was ready. He had few seconds to react, but those moments saved his life. As Jackson pulled his 45. out on Oak, Oak ducked low to the floor as he shot. Oak already had his Ax ready. As he was ducked, he swept at the General's legs with it, lobbing out a piece. As the General cried in pain, Professor Oak grabbed the 45. that Jackson was about to drop mid-air, shot at his torso, then quickly got behind him, and swept his Ax back up. Professor Oak then unhooked one of his grenades, pulled the pin, and dropped it on the General's back. As Professor Oak walked away, he heard the scream. Then, he heard the explosion.
They had won. But at a terrible cost. As Oak looked around the battleground, he saw multiple bodies from both sides clutching their arms, strewn out, some even missing limbs. Oak was alone, now. He had no idea what happened to his Specialist, his SIC, or anyone else.
He was now alone.
END CHAPTER 1
Tell me whatcha think!
Edited by Professor Oak, 25 April 2013 - 02:36 AM.