Kill the Flats

One second I was standing in my foxhole, looking down range through a mounted scope and the next, I was thrown to the ground. As I fell sideways, I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a small ball of light whizzing past my head, leaving a bright yellow-orange trail behind it. I hit the dirt and immediately jerked back up to my feet, making sure to keep my head below the edge of the foxhole. Smith was bent over on the other side of the hole, looking at me like I just shot his cat.
        “What the hell, mayne!” He said. “You almost got yourself dusted; you idiot!”
        I opened my mouth to respond in my usual sarcastic manner, but when I saw that that time, he wasn’t joking…I held my words back.
        “Sorry,” I said, bending my head down in shame. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
        His expression lightened a little and he slammed his palm against the side of my shoulder, almost hard enough to knock me down again.
        “No shit, you weren’t paying attention,” he said, smiling. “Just get your head out of your ass before you get us both killed; okay?”
        I nodded; that was all he expected. We pulled up our weapons and looked over the side of the foxhole; the enemy troops were done playing with the small fire and were in the process of beginning their nightly barrage of electrical impulse mortar rounds. It was like clockwork, every night, the same thing.
        It’d been two years since the invasion. Smith and I were in it since the beginning, fighting off the Flats; that are what we called them, the Flats; trying to get them to consolidate into pockets so that we could destroy them. The Flats were too smart for our tactics though. They roamed around in small bands, not putting all their eggs in one basket; so to speak. We would wipe out one wave of their foot Soldiers and another would just come right up behind them and take their place on the front line. If there wasn’t so many of them, the war would’ve ended much sooner than it did in my opinion.
        Most of the battles happened at night. During the daylight hours, we’d take the time to get some much needed rest, and the Flats would disappear into their hand-made dwellings, probably planning their next attacks. It was very seldom that one of our own would get picked off during the day, but it did occur. A few times, a Flat would come into one of the caves that we slept in ever since they destroyed our structures, and kill one of us. We’d wake up and take out the suicidal bastard, but by then, the damage was done, we’d be too frightened to go back to sleep and thus, become weaker during the night time battle.
***
        As the weeks, months and years grinded forward, both sides fell into a kind of deadlocked face-off. At first, the battlefield had been more all-encompassing. We’d drop into enemy territory and clear them out as fast as we could. Since the destruction of the vast majority of technology on both sides, the battlefield has become more linear; limited resources were saved for the development of improved weapons systems.
        Large, earth destroying weapons still existed, but neither side would dare use them; that would defeat the purpose of the war altogether. It wasn’t about wiping out the enemy completely, it was about the control of resources; specifically, food. Food supplies dwindled as the war raged on, but we were still able to grab a quick meal off of fallen foes, if they had any left that was. Sometimes, they would be so destroyed, so completely unrecognizable, that finding the food was impossible.
        “You see that?” Smith asked. I was beginning to become drowned in my thoughts again and his voice pulled me out. I looked down range through my scope, just in time to see a squad of Flats disappear into a foxhole. I assumed that they were relieving the Flats that’d been in there before them, so I waited patiently for the former squad to come out, so I could pick them off.
        “What the hell?” I said after a few minutes. “How many Flats does it take to fill a foxhole?”
        “Maybe they’re dead…” Smith said.
        I thought about what he said and it made sense.
        “Shit…” I said. “We could’ve taken it this whole time?”
        “Hey you two…”
        I spun around. Two Soldiers were lying on their bellies, looking down at us.
        “We’ve come to relieve you,” one of them said.
        I looked at my watch and then back at them, confused.
        “We still have a few hours,” I said.
        “The commander wants you two to report to the cave,” the other one said. “He sent us to replace you.” I looked at Smith with a perplexed expression and he shrugged.
        “Guess we better go,” he said.
        The two replacements crawled into the foxhole, took our weapons, and aimed them down range. Smith and I crawled out the same way and low crawled until we came around a tall crop of boulders that shielded the cave entrance from the battlefield; it took awhile.
When we walked into the cave, the commander was waiting for us.  We stood at attention and rendered a salute; he didn’t return it. He walked toward the back of the cave and we followed. When he reached the back wall, he motioned for us to come closer so he could keep his voice low.
“We’ve received intelligence that the Flat’s primary leadership is making a site visit across the way. This is reliable information and we need to act on it fast. I’ve selected the two of you to infiltrate the Flat encampment and take them out. You will be alone, but we will try and keep them busy from our side. “
He handed us a small tablet computer, displaying a picture of one of the Flats.
“This is the primary leader,” he said. “Our hopes are that if we can get him, the rest will be easier to manage. If you can’t get any of the others, get him. Do you have any questions?”
We both shook our heads.
“Good…now go see the arms sergeant and get some weapons. Make sure that you switch out your chest armor for the lighter stuff. Good luck gentlemen; move out.”
He snapped to attention and rendered a salute to us. I played with the idea of not returning it…a grave sign of disrespect, but decided that a salute wouldn’t kill me.
***
        After a quick trip to see the arms sergeant, we took off, heading first back around the side of the cave and then slid on our bellies until we reached the far side of the enemy encampment. From our position, we could see the fierce battle raging on both sides. After we left, the commander stayed true to his word. Light rounds and electrical burst lit up the ground all around the two bases. Nobody would be looking at us.
        The Flat’s base was no more than a small town that they’d taken over. They built up a high wall around the perimeter and dug fox holes around the outside. Smith and I continued to low crawl until we were centered on the side of the base. Our eyes had become adjusted to the darkness and through the gloom; we could see two fox-holes defending the side of the base…just two. I was shocked by how complacent the Flats had become and made a mental note to report the information to the commander when I returned…if I returned.
        We made an on-the-spot decision to part ways and belly up to each of the two foxholes alone. I low crawled across the field of tall grass and approached the side of the foxhole. When I peeped down inside, I was happy to see only one Flat, and he was fast asleep. I slid my knife out of my boot, fell on top of him, pressed my hand over his mouth, and cut his throat.  After he stopped twitching, I removed his uniform and quickly changed into it. When I met Smith at the wall, we both looked like Flats.
        The Flats had taken measures to prevent the scaling of their wall, but the coils upon coils of razor wire only made it easier. I got a few fresh cuts in my hands and wrists as I was climbing it, but almost as soon as my boots hit the ground inside the compound, the bleeding stopped. I stayed close to the wall and scanned my surroundings. We came over into a small lot that was divided by intersecting roads. The abandoned homes and buildings that lined the sides of the roads were dark, but in the distance, a shiny beacon called to us. A tall building, clearly visible from our position, lit up the night sky.
***
        We didn’t attack the building in a suicidal rush, screaming religious prayers as we took round after round, before plummeting to our deaths. Instead, we simply walked past the guards that were posted outside and pushed our way through the double doors that once served as the main entrance to the city courthouse.  We were dirty, we had blood on our uniforms, and we must’ve smelled like death, but nobody looked at us with suspicion. On the contrary, the looks we received bordered somewhere between sympathy and downright admiration.
        We took the stairs to the second level of the building and split up, walking along the hallways, looking for signs of where the Flat leadership could be. I met Smith back at the staircase a few minutes later and we continued to the top floor, skipping the third altogether. There was lot more activity on the fourth floor and as soon as we stepped into the hall, I knew that we were in the right place. There were Flats moving along the hallways at a rapid pace, some holding tablets with the screens lit up, all looking like they were late for an important meeting. Smith and I waited until most of the activity moved away from where we were and then split up again. I walked slowly down the hallway, listening intently as I passed every closed door. I reached the end of the first hall and then turned down another that was longer, with a pair of double wooden doors at the end. That must be the place, I thought.
        I walked down the hall at a slow pace, but not too slow. I didn’t want to look like I was all out attacking the place, but I didn’t want to look like I was creeping the hallways either. I continued to focus on the doors as I walked toward them and when I was about half way down the hall, they opened, spilling out about ten fast walking Flats. I almost lost it right then, but managed to keep my cool. I ducked into a close by washroom, entered one of the stalls, and waited for the herd of Flats to pass.
        I heard and smelled them draw closer; their meaningless, garbled speech filled my ears and their unmistakable scent attacked my senses. Just when I thought that the coast must be clear, the wash room door opened. I nudged the stall door, just far enough to look out. One of the Flats was standing in front of a urinal, whistling. He finished his nasty business, put his junk away, and turned to find me standing in front of him. I thought that he’d be scared out of his mind, but he only gave me a warm smile, exposing his ugly, flat teeth at me. He reached out his hand.
        “Thank you for your service, young man,” he said.
        I took his hand and pressed it into my own. The Flats get insulted if you refuse to do that. It worked out in my favor anyway because just as his eyes lit up with understanding at the touch of my cold, dead flesh, I pulled him to me, exposed my many rows of beautifully pointed teeth and sank them all into his throat.
***
        The wash room door burst open just as I was draining the last drop of the Flat’s blood. I shot to my feet, hissing and exposing my blood soaked fangs. Smith closed the door behind him and pressed his back against it.
        “Looks like you got em,” he said. He was looking down at the president’s face. “You wanna turn him or leave him in a stall?”
        “Let’s just leave him,” I said. “We don’t have time to turn him…help me out.”
        Together, we dragged him into the stall that I’d been hiding in and closed the door. Then, we licked up what little blood managed to fall onto the floor, leaving the washroom nice and clean. At the sink, I washed my face, making sure that every drop of blood was removed before we left.
        When we walked out of the building a few minutes later, nobody tried to stop us. These fools, I thought…so complacent and ignorant.  The base alarm went off as we were climbing back over the wall. We scaled faster, cutting our hands to ribbons and managed to get over without being seen.  On the other side, we jumped into the foxhole that I’d vacated earlier and waited. We didn’t have to wait too long; the sky lit up again with a storm of light rounds, explosions, and electric bursts that made the barrage earlier seem like practice. That was our cue; we climbed out of the foxhole and ran.
        Though a storm of fire from both sides, Smith and I sprinted across the wide piece of earth that separated the two bases. I managed to keep up with him, but his stride was longer than mine and I found myself a few paces behind him by the time we reached the center of the field. Being my battle buddy since day one, he wasn’t about to leave me behind. He turned and grabbed me, thrusting me forward.
        “Let’s go partner!” He shouted. “You’re not going to croak on my watch!”
        He was facing me, running backward, and smiling. Slightly insulted and feeling that my physical abilities were being made fun of, I stepped it out a bit.
        “There you go, Soldier!” He shouted and turned back around.
        An explosion ripped across the field to our right, leaving an ultraviolet glow in the pockmarked earth, and then more mortars began to fall around us. We started to zigzag, trying to throw off the enemy’s aim. Smith began to run faster. He zoomed past me, apparently forgetting his earlier promise and pulled out about five paces in front of me before exploding in a cloud of glowing dust.
        “No!” I screamed, but didn’t stop running. I made it to the fox holes and blew right past them, heading for the cave entrance, but before I reached it, another explosion hit just behind me and slammed my body into one of the large boulders.  The lights went out.
***
        I woke up a week later in a hospital bed. My company moved me to the town infirmary after they’d taken the enemy base. According to the commander, I’d been able to relay the weaknesses of the town’s defenses, at least enough so that he could act on it.
        The battle was short lived. Within two days after my long sleep began, the battalion, along with reinforcements, attacked the compound. They made quick work of the Flats and took over the base, vacating the cave for good. The surviving Flats were stored for food and entertainment purposes and I was branded a hero. I didn’t feel like a hero though. I knew that it was by pure dumb luck that the president just happened to wander into the wash room while I was in there. I knew, deep down inside, that I was meant to be dead, along side of James.
        The war was wrapped up within a few months. The commander was right. Without their primary leader, the Flats lost the will to fight. I’m told that the rest of the battles went fairly easy for our side after Smith and I paved the way. I didn’t fight in any of them. By the time I healed completely, I was transferred, stationed at one of the darkest bases on the planet. It was my reward for being a hero; you see?
        Sometimes, I wonder what we’ll do when the food runs out. If the powers that be are smart about it, they will create Flat farms, multiplying them so that they could always be readily available when we need them; but, I think that it’ll go the other way. It wasn’t long ago that we were Flats ourselves and some things carry over. After all, isn’t war itself a Flat trait? I fear that we’re doomed in the long run, but I take solace that when the end does come, it will be the end of us all. Hopefully, I’ll grow tired and go sunbathing long before that.