Before long, the looming blackness of night enveloped the marsh. By then, Church had dug a series of fighting holes dotted across the clearing, each with appropriate foliage cover. He slathered his hands and face with mud to mask his heat signature. With luck, the Vyres wouldn't even know they were upon him until it was too late. In the distance, to the South, the horizon glowed a dull red. Bonfires for lighting torches. It was clear that he had crossed someone very powerful.
Soon, the baying of hounds picked up once more, and Church lowered himself into one of the foxholes, PRM, pistols and entrenching tool in tow. He checked his commorb, and his eyes widened.
FIRE MISSION COORDINATES RECIEVED: HMS INVINCIBLE, 4 GUNS, 24 ROUNDS, TRANSMIT WHEN READY
An ironclad. With 18 Inch deck guns. He must have been within a few miles of the coast, and shuddered to think what those massive shells could do. He began to dig his hole deeper.
The shrieking of Vyres grew louder, and Church popped his head up through the branch canopy to see. Sure enough, several dozen streaks of fire whirled about in dancing arcs to the South. Vyres, scanning the forest from above. The woods were dead silent. They were close, and some on foot as well.
Church heard a brief rustling in the trees, then a sizzle, then a concussive explosion. Chunks of meat fell from the canopy above, arms and legs still kicking, bucking, inching back together. A Vyre.
The night sky erupted into a series of increasingly distant Vyre prey-marking calls. Church noted that they sounded much like a woman screaming. The streaks of fire changed direction abruptly towards him. Church winced, and pressed the transmit area of his commorb.
"Begin fire mission: Authorization Wildfire"
Church tilted the hammer back from the frizzen of his musket, and closed his eye as the Southern sky began to flash, followed by the characteristic rumble of distant naval artillery.
03-Apr-2016 07:16:12
- Last edited on
03-Apr-2016 07:17:07
by
Ben Aristad
