Chapter 3

Ryder burst out of the medical hut with anger. The sun was high up now, shining its red rays down upon the smoking fort. A Captain ran up to the commander and saluted, Ryder simply nodded in response.

"Sir, how's the commander?"

"He'll be fine, minus an eye Captain. Any Exclamber activity nearby?"

"No sir, all the groups have dispersed further back but they're constantly on the move, our recon teams are having a hard time tracking them all"

Ryder looked around at the base and at the men and women rushing around it "We don't have enough soldiers here"

"We never have" The captain said darkly

"I need to leave and find commander Helman. You're in charge here until Miles wakes up, won't be long knowing him. You say the groups are far away"

"Erm ... for the moment, sir"

"Hopefully I'll be back before they get any closer. I will be looking around Cheyenne so not that far away. You'll be fine"

"Yes sir. Who will you be taking?"

"A small platoon and a few jeeps"

"Good luck" They saluted and walked apart, before they did Ryder mumbled under his breath

"We all seem to need luck now"

Within an hour Ryder had gathered a group of 20 men and a few jeeps and sped off out of the fort towards the ruins of Cheyenne. He hoped to find any evidence of the commander or at least the resistance that inhabited the city centre.

Along the border it was rough and broken; patches of grass were split up by shell holes or areas of dead land. By now the frost had come and started to settle on everything as it slowly became colder. The white tips of each blade of grass shimmered in the red sunlight and reflected off, Ryder contemplated the beauty of the state in contrast to what all else looked like outside its borders. The closer they came to the ruin the more uneasy the man felt. It seemed the city cast the aura of death off which struck fear into the hearts of the soldiers. The skyscraper towers of the city were stripped down their bone black metal work which seemed to merge with the red tint sadistically.

The suburbs were no better, burnt out houses and scattered cars everywhere. They soon reached the first military blockade which stood unmanned, clearly for a long time. An APC stood parked at a concrete road block facing down the street like a stone guardian waiting to spring to life. But this guardian would never, as the barrel of the main cannon had been ripped from the turret and the vehicle had been abandoned.

The smell of the area was of smoke, as if the fires still raged fresh from the doomed defence. Nearby along the concrete blocks sat a few machine guns also aimed down the road, the old blood stains still present on the handle of the weapon.

The men dismounted unable to see a way past the blocks which cordoned off the entire road. They spread out, eyes ever sharpened. Ryder jumped up onto the body of the armoured corpse and looked around before saying

"Go around?"

"I imagine they're all like this" One of the drivers responded

"We split up then. Drivers, take the vehicles back to a safe distance and keep the engines running, we don't want anyone to sneak" bullets suddenly hammered down all around the group from the city side of the blockade. Ryder dived off the APC and onto the ground as his men ran for any cover. A second volley of bullets smashed into the concrete block he was, by then, kneeling behind. He sensed something was wrong

One of the men stood up sharply and shouted

"Friendly fire! We're human!" A spray of projectiles slammed into the man all over his catapulting him down, dead before impact down. The commander shifted his position as a few of his men sporadically returned fire. As he peaked his head out he saw a few dark figures dart between the houses down the street. Ryder squinted to make them out but failed to do so.

Without warning a buggy raced around the corner of the street and opened fire with its turret mounted machine gun. The spray of bullets was completely inaccurate but served to keep their heads down. One unlucky soldier received a shot through the side of the head, temple to temple.

Despite this heavy fire Ryder moved to the edge of the concrete block, peaked around and let off a well aimed burst at the gunner of the buggy. The three rounds all hit their marks on the man and the firing promptly stopped.

With that a howl came from up the street. Seemingly out of nowhere a mob of men and woman rushed out and towards Ryder and his men. They wielded any kind of weapon from firearms to crudely made melee weapons. The charged full pelt down the street at the soldiers who were for a second stunned at their appearance

The humans against them looked nothing like they had seen before. They wore red paint all over their bodies which were mostly exposed from the waist up. On their person, many wore trophies of what they could only presume were the skulls of other humans killed at their hands. The mob of crazed madmen ran down the street in a blood rage.

Even though he returned fire it seemed to do little against the mob other than slightly thinning the ranks. Ryder and his men retreated back to the vehicles while still firing as much as they were able. A growing rumbling sounded from around them.

A light tank smashed through a house to the side of them literally sweeping the ruined structure aside. Around it swarmed armed men which looked like friendly soldiers. The tank and its escort aimed their guns and fired down the street. This made a huge impact in the mob that quickly gave up the battle and dispersed down the street rapidly.

Stood tall, half out of the top hatch of the tank was Helman

"Fucking cultists!" He shouted as the vehicle ground to a halt. He clambered fully out and jumped onto the ground next to Ryder. The two smiled and heartedly shook hands. The Captain had changed from being a cleanly shaven, optimistic, humorous person to a calculating, silent, grizzled type of soldier. Ryder noticed much of himself in his friend, however there was still glimmers of the jokiness in the man simply waiting for the right time to crack a joke or wise crack