Chapter 1

John

03-11-2022

John looked over the grassland. Winter had been harsh on him these last few days. His nose ran and his feet felt numb in their rubber boots. He rubbed his beard with his gloved hand. Little particles of ice broke off from it. The sun stood high in the sky, but the grey and white clouds didn’t let any real rays come through, making the sight only grimmer.

‘What do you want to be later?’

The words which he had listened to many years ago still echoed through the cavern of his mind. He leaned on the steel battlement of the wall. He gripped his gun tightly, keeping his finger off the trigger.

He had to make a choice at that moment. He could have either played it safe, or try to impress with ambition. Both options would have probably left him stranded in the position where he was now. What had happened in the last 20 years? What possible explanation could be given for all of this?

He didn’t want to think about it too much. He had to focus. He looked down the sight of his gun and sighed. His breath almost crystalized in the freezing cold. It reminded him to check the weapon for frost jamming. He unclicked the magazine and checked the ammunition inside.

‘Are you nervous or something?’ asked Robert cheekily.

He sat next to John, also leant against the battlement. He was John’s best friend, and they had grown up together before joining the task force. He was armed with the same assault rifle as John, and carried medical equipment. He was the medic of the squad.

‘Don’t get trigger-happy, John,’ joked Mason. He was the joker of the squad. Most of his jokes were horrible, but he had his good moments. He was armed with a shotgun and carried explosives on his belt.

‘Must be the silence,’ commented Mike. He sat at John’s other side, also leaning against the battlement, but facing the other direction. Mike was the quiet one of the squad, which suited his job. He was the sniper. His rifle had a big fat scope and he carried bullets twice the size of the others.

John himself only had an assault rifle and two grenades strapped to his belt.

‘Mike, is it me, or are you facing the wrong way?’ asked John jokingly.

‘It’s you, mate. I’m facing the right way, as far as I’m concerned,’ answered the man.

John just scoffed. He knew there was no arguing with him, and gave up the attempt.

‘Do you want to know why I’m facing the right way, and you’re facing the wrong?’ asked Mike with a grin on his face.

John looked over his shoulder and met Mike’s eyes with his. He then boringly shook his head. ‘Nah.’

‘Pff, you take the fun out of anything, don’t you?’ chuckled Mike as John turned his head towards the fields again. ‘We have been here for three days. There is a steel barricade, 30 metres long, in between two convenient cliff-faces, overlooking nothing but grass, guarded by four men. The enemy will not come here, because they have nothing to gain.’

John looked at Mike. ‘You’re so full of yourself, you know?’

As the day continued, lingering, time slowly passing them by, it turned out that Mike had been right. The enemy did not come that day either, just like the last three days. The men walked back to their tents. The camp was put up at an altitude of 2190 meters above sea-level. What the men guarded was the Little St Bernard Pass, in the Alps.

‘You know, this is one of the passes which Hannibal may have had taken as a path through the Alps,’ said John, as they arrived.

‘What the fuck are you suddenly on about?’ asked Mason.

‘Hannibal,’ repeated John.

Mason glared at him with a face as if he saw a vagina for the first time.

‘Are you fucking serious? You don’t know Hannibal?’

Mason looked around at the others. ‘Do you guys know what he’s talking about?’

‘Yeah. Hannibal. Carthaginian general. Outsmarted the Romans by taking the Alps as a route instead of Sicily,’ said Robert.

Mason was absolutely overwhelmed by what he was hearing. ‘You know, I think I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up for our five-star dinner.’

‘What do you want?’ asked Robert, holding up a few packets of instant food.

‘Pasta and meatballs, of course.’

Robert sighed. ‘Everyone wants pasta and fucking meatballs…’

Three hours later, Robert and John lay beside each other in their shared tent. The second tent was shared between Mike and Mason. John had taken his strap-on flashlight, strapped it over his forehead, and read his book in peace. Robert had already turned to go to sleep. John shivered a little, realising that it was time for him to go to bed as well. The man made a fold in the page, put the book beside him, pressed the button on his flashlight and took it off. He then pulled up his sleeping bag and let his body warm itself in the cocoon of wool.

John and Robert ran through the corridor.

‘Get back here!’ shouted their teacher, who stood in the doorway which the two boys just crashed through.

‘Look what you got me into, Rob!

‘Me!? Clearly your fault!’

The boys laughed dryly as they ran out of the corridor. John lay in his sleeping bag, remembering the good and easy times, before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

The next morning, the soldiers found that the sky had not cleared. It didn’t necessarily make it any colder, but at least it would have been nicer to look at. The men did their run towards the wall. They had to warm up. Their thick clothing stunk of humidity and dirt. Each of them had a backpack with their own needs for the day. They had been dropped here with the task to keep the enemy in front of the wall, but there had not been an enemy in sight since they were on the ground. There were other squads, placed in locations such as these to keep the ever-so-absent enemy out of the Alps, or at least, not make a way through them.

When they arrived at the wall, they sat down in their usual position. They sat there for a few hours. Suddenly, Mike then stood up from his usual spot and turned around, facing the same way as everyone else.

‘What’s this? Mikey not so cocky anymore?’ said Mason.

‘Shut your trap, Mason. Listen.’

Everyone was silent. Every man turned his head, so that the wind didn’t blow past his ears, and listened carefully. John heard it as well now. A metallic humming, low and deep.

‘What is that?’ Robert asked nervously.

‘Whatever it is, it-’

Mike’s sentence was interrupted by the sudden shriek of a missile and a nearby blast. All four of them turned towards the sound. It was in the field. A large burst of flame and veil of smoke erupted from the ground, no further than 50 metres away from their position. A split-second later, the shockwave blasted the gun from John’s hands. The gun’s strap was slung over his shoulder, so he did not lose the weapon.

‘Holy fuck!’ shouted Mason.

There was no time for another curse to come from his mouth. A second explosion followed, this time only ten metres away. The blast threw all men off the ground. John felt the heat of the explosion on his face. He landed nastily on his side, with the gun poking him in the ribs. His ears rang fiercly, and he only heard muffled screams and shouts from his friends. He was the sergeant of this squad. The rest were all PFC’s. He was the only one who had taken lessons in situation assessment. If there was anyone fit to give orders, it was him. And right now, he was unable to. Mike came into sight. John reached out with his hand, and the man grabbed it, pulling John back up. The ringing was not yet over. John looked around. Mason and Robert followed them as they ran across the length of the wall.

John looked up. Large, darkening shadows appeared in the white and grey clouds. Large vessels and ships lowered themselves through the layer of clouds. They descended into vision. Their large front sides glared at them. There were at least seven. Four green lights blinked on the front, and at least six red lights on the side of the hull. It was like a huge rectangular space ship. A thing from books and movies. John’s hearing faded back into functioning.

‘Fucking ruuun!’

A flash of light brightened the clouds, and a missile descended from the steel hull of one of the large air vessels. A devastating blast followed as the missile erupted into a mix of fire and pure force. John felt the shockwave hit him in the back, followed by at least two seconds of air-time, wherein his arms and legs swung loosely, and he saw the sky, followed by the frozen, dark-green grassy ground, and then the sky again. He landed painfully on his back.

The smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils and smoke stung in his eyes. He no longer felt the strap of his gun in his neck. His vision blurred. He blinked, and the sun was suddenly in a whole other position than before. He heard murmuring forces, and saw the silhouette of a man, who stopped by his head and towered above him. He spoke in an inaudible language, gesturing someone who John did not see. His vision faded, and everything went black.