“Open fire.”

Those words made almost every Nevexican weapon spring to life. Bullets raced through the trees, tearing through leaves and embedding in trees. Tracers lit the the woods up a neon green. The smell of gunpowder filled the air, not that it could penetrate the Nevexican soldier’s filters. The mutated wildlife scampered away into the trees, abandoning the area until the strange bipeds with the loud sticks left.

Harry’s first burst tore into the shadow of an insurgent, dropping it. The weapon it held clattered to the ground, firing two shots before coming to a rest. A burst from the right of him spun off into the forest, not making contact. A machine gunner walked his fire towards a group of four insurgents crowded around a table. They scrambled to kick away from the table, two of them getting entangled on their chairs. The other sprinted away, one tripping and collapsing to the ground. The two insurgents closest to the gunner were riddled with bullets, falling limp while trying to stand and kick away the chairs.

Gerald fired a shot into one of the insurgent’s knees, who promptly fell. The other insurgent crawled to behind a tree, cowering behind it. Sergeant Berisho’s squad carefully edged around the camp towards the tree. They reached it, weapons raised, and ordered the insurgent to surrender. He did so without hesitation. They then apprehended him, and brought him to the center of the camp.

Berisho’s squad proceeded to move through the small camp, checking the bodies of insurgents. After making sure the insurgents were dead, and taking any compatible ammunition, the surviving two insurgents were bound and placed in the middle of the camp. Their hands were tied behind their backs, and their legs bound together. They struggled against the zip ties around their wrist for a few minutes, before giving up with red wrists.

Once the camp was cleared the Lieutenant filled out the paperwork again, gathering information on the amount of ammunition used, the amount gained, prisoners taken, and insurgents killed. When he finished he assigned Berisho’s squad to guarding the captured outpost. He also ordered them to watch the prisoners. As the rest of the platoon began to march away Berisho and his soldiers began to move about the camp, setting up chairs and assigning guards to the prisoners.

Over the radio Harry overheard a conversation between Lieutenant Yorkshire and CPL Jax. They were discussing something about how the insurgents’ equipment was in far better shape than would be expected from non-city dwellers. Jax also commented on how odd it was that they had a modern radio, and were confident enough to give it to a simple outpost. Yorkshire just snorted, saying something about how the untrained insurgents wouldn’t know any better. He assumed they looted it from the train crash, and brought it up here first thing.

Lieutenant Yorkshire then decided it was about time lunch break was had. Every squad divided into groups around backpack sized gas burners. Harry found the log of a fallen over tree, and sat on it. He then laid his rifle to rest against it and removed his backpack. Pulling his MRE and straw out of it, he set it aside and prepared to eat.

They warmed up water before adding it their MREs. Harry, the lucky man he was, got potato cream soup with beef, the best MRE issued. The other MRE issued was just plain potato cream soup. He proceeded to extend a straw from his mask, and stuck it into the soup. He then sucked it up into his mouth, the one way pressure valve only letting the soup through.

Harry then closed the straw so that he could screw his canteen onto it. He then drank deeply from the container, drinking at least half of it. Once he was done he clicked the mouth side of the straw closed, and removed it to be cleaned. This nifty piece of engineering was now dull and mundane, many years of training and drilling making just another fact of life.

He then began to clean it while chatting with the rest of his squad, “What’d you guys think of this fabulous potato soup?”

“Same as always, to much powdered potato, not enough powdered milk or beef.It’s better than nothing, but it is consistently shit” Said Thomas.

Thompson spoke up in contradiction, “Someday they’ll get a mixture right”

“Yeah, once the 40,000 surplus from the last batch are finished.”

“I’m sure if we complain enough they’ll change the recipe.”

“Yeah, and on that day I’ll be promoted to supreme commander of the Nevexico combined forces.”

“Oh shut it.”

“Sure, once you su-”“Shut up, both of you. I want to enjoy a single meal without you fuckers getting in an argument.” Sergeant Watson grunted through his straw, his eyebrows raising behind his mask. While those two continued to stare daggers at each other Harry simply laughed, and shook his head at their ridiculousness. He could always count on Thomas and Thompson to keep things entertaining.Standing, Harry placed the now clean straw into his backpack, and rolled the soup bag up. The bag was thing neatly placed end up in the bag, next to the eight other meals. When Harry returned to Foba City the soup bag would be cleaned with first UV rays, then with a vigorous scrubbing and soaking in soap and water. The UV rays will kill any sickness, Gas or otherwise, the soap getting grime and remaining food washed out. When they were dry they would then be refilled with it’s designated meal powder for later use.

Once his soup bag was taken care of he slung the backpack onto his shoulders. He stood, and grabbed his rifle from next to the log he was sitting on. The effort of standing made him groan softly. And because he feared there was a large amount of walking ahead of him. He stretched for about five minutes before Yorkshire gave them the orders to pack up and leave.

The platoon continued in the same formation as before, slowly advancing in a way that would make it difficult to be flanked. Their wide sweeping nets of vision allowed them to spot anything in front of them, and had large amounts of firepower directly to the front. The disadvantages of this formation was if an enemy element did flank them there would be virtually no immediate firepower in their direction.

Harry continued to advance through the untamed trees, thick flora filling his vision with green and brown. The once ever present mammal life had since dissipated, learning to be terrified of the Nevexican soldiers and their weapons. Due to the lack of mammal life the only sounds was the rustling of leaves, the nagging of bugs, and the crushing march of soldiers. Plants were crushed and limb snapped as they forced their way through the dense foliage. A path of damaged plants was left behind them, insects buzzing curiously onto the damaged plants, drinking leaking juices.

The bugs varied greatly, the outrages levels of insects and all their species leaving greater room for the Gas to mutate them. Every species, subspecies, and any continental divides led to different mutations. Some gained is size, some gained venom, others lost size or lost appendages. Other would gain organs no insect should have, while some mutated into extinction from vital organs mutating out of existence.

Harry, didn’t care in the slightest. He simply wanted to get through the forest filled with too many living things. The closest thing to this in any of the cities were zoos, even then only containing a few unique animals. His mind had began to wonder, distracting itself from this unpleasant place. While he continued to follow the muscle memory the years of drilling had instilled he began to play thoughts and scenes from elsewhere behind the vision. The forest faded to background, while he though of home.

He thought of what he would do next he got leave. Harry planned on taking a train to the small farming shelter of Turnop, the place he was born and raised. He hopped to see his parents, and play with his sister’s son again. He also thought of the need to find a gift for the small child, wanting to win him over despite their distance. His could also talk to his brother in law about some of the new protocols and construction in the larger cities, the only other person in his family that had ever left Turnop for more than a month, thanks to dangerous train routes and expensive motels.

These thoughts were interrupted with the sudden scream of a soldier emanated from the right flank. It was followed by more screaming, and the radio on his shoulder crackling to life. From what Harry could catch insects in a tall mound had burrowed into the chests of two soldiers, Harry couldn’t catch their names, who were promptly exposed to the atmosphere. The rest of the squad vacated the area, but not before tossing a few grenades in that area.

Hopefully the privates were killed before they could mutate. The panicked discussion continued for another few minutes, while Harry’s squad rotated to be perpendicular to the rest of the platoon. This would cover at least one of their flanks while this issue was sorted out. Harry tried to ignore confused and stressed conversations being heard over the radio, staring into the forest. He continue to watch, and was mildly worried about more of… whatever those things that attacked the soldiers crawling up his chest.

Orders came through Watson that the platoon was going to push hard to the edge of the canyon, to get away from whatever those bugs were. Harry also inquired about who the unfortunate soldiers were. Watson replied that it was Private Caleb and Corporal Cale. Harry immediately felt a pang of regret, knowing that Caleb’s wife and child relied on his paychecks to get by. Hopefully the widow’s pension could help support them. Harry made remembered to donate some money if he saw them again.

The lieutenant then called in a howitzer strike on the position of the Burrowers mound, Yorkshire had started calling the insects Burrowers in the process. The rounds were supposed to be napalm, to burn any of the Burrowers to a crips. Because of this Yorkshire ordered everybody to move double time away from the target zone. Once the platoon was far enough off he would give the all clear to the howitzer battery.

“So that’s what we’re calling those” Harry remarked to nobody in particular.

Gerald, who apparently hadn’t heard what the insects were responded with, “Calling what that?”

“The insects that killed those privates. We’re apparently calling them Burrowers.”

“Well who says we’re calling them Burrowers? It’s a rather unoriginal name.”

“Lieutenant called in the howitzer strike, justifying it by saying ‘Burrowers nest’. When the radio operator questioned it it claimed it was a newly discovered mutant and very deadly.” Harry explained, gesticulating with his hands as he spoke.

The platoon continued the hasty advance through the woods, until they emerged into an abandoned and overgrown parking lot. The parking lot was surrounded on all sides by five story brick apartments, thoroughly overgrown with vines and trees. All the glass in the windows long gone. Not a single door was closed, and several were completely broken off. There were broken furniture littered around the apartments, ranging from chairs to wardrobes. Scraps of ratty, mildewed clothes flapped in the gentle breeze.

The cars in the lot were in similar shape, with the majority have shredded tires, shattered windows, and oil leaks beneath them. In one car there were the withered skeletons of a family, all four of their skulls caved in. If one got close enough without their masks on they could smell the urine of hundreds of animals permeating the seats.

The platoon waited in the center of the of the apartment complexes, and formed a loose circle in an area free of cars. They maintained silence, hoping that there were no hostile mutants hiding in the ruins of the city they had stumbled upon. Harry was facing the northern apartment, and intently watched the building.

—————————————————————————————

The battery of howitzers behind sand bags and trucks were aiming at their targets. Two fire control officers double checked their calculations, not wanting to waste any of their precious napalm shells. Once they confirmed the math, they gave the order. All four guns opened up, orange fire erupting from their barrels.

Minutes latter and miles away the shells exploded one after another over the forest. The napalm flowered out, drifting down into the leaves. As the flames burned away at the forest the Burrowers fled underground. The heat would broil the entire colony in entirety. The corpses of PFC Caleb and CPL Cale were consumed by the flame, soon only twisted, charred skeletons being left in the flames.