Published Jan 3rd, 1/3/24 1:15 pm
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The Hospital was fairly tall, maybe five or six stories, and made of red-brown bricks with rings of shattered windows. It had a round shape to it, like multiple giant cylinders had been moulded together by the architects that had constructed it. It was more recognizable than the other buildings around it, but it still hadn’t survived the explosion very well. The windows were practically nonexistent, the top floor and roof had caved in and it was covered in the same layer of slightly radioactive dust that everything else was. It was also swarming with soldiers wearing tan plate carriers and helmets, it must have been their base.
Despite the fact that the soldiers had very advanced equipment and weapons in good condition, they had mostly ignored Barett. It was possible that they just hadn’t seen him, but Barett was pretty sure that they would have by now. With this information in mind, Barett casually walked across the street and went up to a soldier guarding the door. He was just a little taller than Barett with a short dark brown beard. He was wearing a tan camouflage helmet and tan plate carrier vest. He was carrying a similarly coloured M-7 rifle and had a pistol on his hip. He was wearing a dirty yellow shirt and night vision goggles, even though they seemed useless to Barett.
“Um, hello,” Barett said.
“What do you want?” The guard replied in a gruff voice.
“This is the UCHealth Hospital thing, right?”
“It is, but I said what do you want, kid?”
Barett told the soldier about the condition that his mom was in, and the journey he took to get to the hospital. He told him about the experimental cancer cure that was being developed there.
“Oh… that?” the soldier said, “Yeah, it wasn’t able to be finished before the bombs dropped.”
“Is there some unfinished version somewhere?” Barett asked desperately.
“No, it was being stored in another facility in Gleneagle, but sadly, I don’t think anything there survived the explosion,” the soldier told him.
Barett was distraught, the cure didn’t exist anymore? Why had he gone so far just for nothing? Before he could ask any more questions, a loud bang sounded behind him. He whirled around and saw the tan-uniformed soldiers pull out their weapons. There was a trail of smoke that led down the street to a man holding a boxy weapon over his shoulder. That must have shot a rocket at the soldiers. Behind him were almost twenty soldiers, they wore dark maroon, long sleeve shirts with makeshift body armour, made of rusty, cut sheet metal. Most of them held rifles, but some had pistols, one even had a pump-action shotgun. One held a busted-up shield with a red symbol on it that Barett recognized. It was an ugly looking shape that looked like the letters QHA, combined into a weird symbol. Barett realised that that symbol was the one that had been painted on the mobile homes in the Quail Hill camp. The attackers must have been from the Quail Hill Aristocracy!
The man that wore the red hoodie stepped out from behind the man with the quad-rocket-launcher device.
“Surrender now, give us your land, and we will not destroy you Easterners,” He said.
“No,” relied one of the tan-clad soldiers, “the Great East will never surrender to you!”
The man in the red hoodie, now wearing body armour, gave a signal with his left hand, a kind of vertical sweeping motion, from bottom to top. He then turned around and, along with two guards, walked away.
The Quail Hill soldiers opened fire, firing quick bursts at the Easterners. The tan armoured Easterners returned fire, a steady stream of shots rather than bursts. Barett ducked behind a decaying once-blue suv and pulled out his pistol. He took out a magazine and loaded it into the pistol. He chambered a round and peaked over the hood of the car. He lined up the black iron sights on one of the QHA soldiers and pulled the trigger. Click. Barett ducked down again to inspect the gun. He turned off the safety and looked back up. He aimed at the same soldier as before and shot. He looked back, not wanting to see the soldier die. He heard three shots rapidly impact the other side of the suv and he looked back over it, pistol in hand. He saw another soldier, aimed and fired two shots, he missed both. The soldier looked at the car and let a volley of shots out of his rifle. He had to reload, and Barett took some shots. He hit the soldier in the left shoulder and in the centre of his armour, but one shot missed. Barett pulled out the pistol’s magazine to check how many shots he had left. Nine. He stood up and ran to another car. He heard bullets ricocheting off buildings and the ground. He heard the deafening sound of automatic fire and grenades. He heard shouting, insults, orders and cries of pain, but all he saw was the rusting car in front of him. He slid behind the car and aimed his gun through the opened window and rapidly fired five shots at the QHA attack force. They were running away! Or were they?
Moments after they disappeared, the Easterner soldiers started reloading and getting dead and wounded allies out of the road before the next wave of Quail Hill soldiers arrived. Most were too late. Another wave-twice the size of the first one-arrived on foot. Barett got off some of the first shots. BAM BAM BAM BAM click. He was out of ammo. He crouched behind the car hoping he wouldn’t get shot. The troops of the Quail Hill Aristocracy were winning. They had a bigger army, but they weren't as well armed. As soon as it seemed too late, the tank Barett had seen before rolled up the street behind the QHA soldiers. They didn’t notice until it was too late. The machine gun was manned this time and the QHA soldiers found out fast. The 120mm barrel fired a high explosive round straight into the group of enemy troops. This plus the heavy machine gun almost wiped out the entire QHA force. With the support of the tank, the battle was easily won.
Despite the fact that the soldiers had very advanced equipment and weapons in good condition, they had mostly ignored Barett. It was possible that they just hadn’t seen him, but Barett was pretty sure that they would have by now. With this information in mind, Barett casually walked across the street and went up to a soldier guarding the door. He was just a little taller than Barett with a short dark brown beard. He was wearing a tan camouflage helmet and tan plate carrier vest. He was carrying a similarly coloured M-7 rifle and had a pistol on his hip. He was wearing a dirty yellow shirt and night vision goggles, even though they seemed useless to Barett.
“Um, hello,” Barett said.
“What do you want?” The guard replied in a gruff voice.
“This is the UCHealth Hospital thing, right?”
“It is, but I said what do you want, kid?”
Barett told the soldier about the condition that his mom was in, and the journey he took to get to the hospital. He told him about the experimental cancer cure that was being developed there.
“Oh… that?” the soldier said, “Yeah, it wasn’t able to be finished before the bombs dropped.”
“Is there some unfinished version somewhere?” Barett asked desperately.
“No, it was being stored in another facility in Gleneagle, but sadly, I don’t think anything there survived the explosion,” the soldier told him.
Barett was distraught, the cure didn’t exist anymore? Why had he gone so far just for nothing? Before he could ask any more questions, a loud bang sounded behind him. He whirled around and saw the tan-uniformed soldiers pull out their weapons. There was a trail of smoke that led down the street to a man holding a boxy weapon over his shoulder. That must have shot a rocket at the soldiers. Behind him were almost twenty soldiers, they wore dark maroon, long sleeve shirts with makeshift body armour, made of rusty, cut sheet metal. Most of them held rifles, but some had pistols, one even had a pump-action shotgun. One held a busted-up shield with a red symbol on it that Barett recognized. It was an ugly looking shape that looked like the letters QHA, combined into a weird symbol. Barett realised that that symbol was the one that had been painted on the mobile homes in the Quail Hill camp. The attackers must have been from the Quail Hill Aristocracy!
The man that wore the red hoodie stepped out from behind the man with the quad-rocket-launcher device.
“Surrender now, give us your land, and we will not destroy you Easterners,” He said.
“No,” relied one of the tan-clad soldiers, “the Great East will never surrender to you!”
The man in the red hoodie, now wearing body armour, gave a signal with his left hand, a kind of vertical sweeping motion, from bottom to top. He then turned around and, along with two guards, walked away.
The Quail Hill soldiers opened fire, firing quick bursts at the Easterners. The tan armoured Easterners returned fire, a steady stream of shots rather than bursts. Barett ducked behind a decaying once-blue suv and pulled out his pistol. He took out a magazine and loaded it into the pistol. He chambered a round and peaked over the hood of the car. He lined up the black iron sights on one of the QHA soldiers and pulled the trigger. Click. Barett ducked down again to inspect the gun. He turned off the safety and looked back up. He aimed at the same soldier as before and shot. He looked back, not wanting to see the soldier die. He heard three shots rapidly impact the other side of the suv and he looked back over it, pistol in hand. He saw another soldier, aimed and fired two shots, he missed both. The soldier looked at the car and let a volley of shots out of his rifle. He had to reload, and Barett took some shots. He hit the soldier in the left shoulder and in the centre of his armour, but one shot missed. Barett pulled out the pistol’s magazine to check how many shots he had left. Nine. He stood up and ran to another car. He heard bullets ricocheting off buildings and the ground. He heard the deafening sound of automatic fire and grenades. He heard shouting, insults, orders and cries of pain, but all he saw was the rusting car in front of him. He slid behind the car and aimed his gun through the opened window and rapidly fired five shots at the QHA attack force. They were running away! Or were they?
Moments after they disappeared, the Easterner soldiers started reloading and getting dead and wounded allies out of the road before the next wave of Quail Hill soldiers arrived. Most were too late. Another wave-twice the size of the first one-arrived on foot. Barett got off some of the first shots. BAM BAM BAM BAM click. He was out of ammo. He crouched behind the car hoping he wouldn’t get shot. The troops of the Quail Hill Aristocracy were winning. They had a bigger army, but they weren't as well armed. As soon as it seemed too late, the tank Barett had seen before rolled up the street behind the QHA soldiers. They didn’t notice until it was too late. The machine gun was manned this time and the QHA soldiers found out fast. The 120mm barrel fired a high explosive round straight into the group of enemy troops. This plus the heavy machine gun almost wiped out the entire QHA force. With the support of the tank, the battle was easily won.
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