Uphill Burning

Viking inched his way down the mountain with the Berserkers. The fire masks they got from R&D didn’t allow the best visibility, but he could still see the pyros below priming their flame throwers. Spartan told him the Älgenhul ship went down a little way from the town. Viking hoped it took care of this Butcher character, but he doubted it. The Butcher’s men almost caught Viking, and if he was smart, he would have taken his own precautions. He was out there, somewhere. Was he in one of the suits? They did all wear identical flame masks. He didn’t see anyone without a mask, and none of the other Berserkers made an indication they did, either.

The area was suddenly lit by dancing orange flames. It had begun. There was no delaying their mission now. Wait for the pyros to get closer. They were coming up the mountain in a long line, a few feet in between each of them. Fire spread easier going uphill, but he knew they would go up as far as they could to ensure the spread. They were also shooting the flames in spurts, not in consistent lines. Viking couldn’t see the other Berserkers, but he knew they were ready, waiting for his signal. He still heard Spartan’s order ringing in his head.

“Kill as many as you can.”

Viking took off his mask so he could see better. The fire was far enough down, he thought, I should be fine. He raised his rifle and fired. A pyro fell right as he pulled the trigger on his flamethrower. The others stopped what they were doing and looked around. Those flamethrowers were two-handed weapons, and they let go with their right hands, grabbing pistols from their waists. Gunshots sounded. Before the pyros had a chance to fire, several more were dropped. The survivors ducked down, disappearing in non-burning grass and bushes. Viking stayed still.

A pyro stuck his head out to look. Bang. Based on the sound, it was Gallager. He was the only Berserker to Viking’s right. He kept his eyes open, his ears tuned to any sound. Unmistakble Khardi accents came from below.

“Flank them! Burn them!”

Viking smiled. Good, they don’t know I can understand. He pulled out his pistol and fired once into the air. He then stood up, and fired slightly to the left then to the right. He hoped the enemy wouldn’t pick up immediately on the message. He also hoped the Berserkers understood it, because now he had to run. Gunfire deafened him from below as many of the pyros opened fire in his direction. He crouched down. There was a tree further up he could use for cover. Already he could see bits of bark getting blasted off it. He ignored the feeling of the air as the rounds flew past, and didn’t dare to flinch when he felt one skim his shoulder. There was time to deal with that later. He jumped behind the tree, not moving as the hail continued for another few seconds.

His ears ringing, Viking took deep breaths before daring to peek out. He still couldn’t see his men, nor any of the pyros. Only grass and brush. The enemy was probably reloading, he figured. Although, he did catch some movement to either side. The urge to send another warning welled up inside, but he knew he couldn’t say anything. It was lucky of him the Khardis didn’t realize what he was trying to do.

Bang, bang, bang. Gunfire erupted, and four pyrosuits stood up. Lifting their flamethrowers, they fired. The three Berserkers rose enough to jump out of the way, all the while continuing to shoot. The pyros fell, but not before they started a new blaze which blocked the Berserkers’ sight of the enemy. They all moved up to where Viking was.

“How do you want us to proceed?” asked Johan.

Viking shrugged and shook his head. Their surprise was gone, the Khardis knew exactly where they were. “How many are dead?” he whispered.

“Those four are dead.” Stevens pointed back at the new fire.

“I got three when we started.”

“Same.”

“I managed four.”

“Plus my one,” Viking said. “That’s only fifteen.” He shot looks at their flanks. “If we assume they had a hundred, there’ll be eight-five left. Not good enough. Now we know how they’re approaching their job. Spread out more, I want the entire line covered. They came with fire, but we are going to show them Hell.”

The Berserkers took on demon grins as they ran out. Stevens and Johan went left and Gallager went right. Viking moved, too. He needed to regain his visual. Carefully inching his way in Gallager’s direction, he kept his eyes downhill until he could see the pyros again. He waited. They didn’t respond like they saw him. Some kept their eyes outward in his and the others’ directions, but a handful treated the fire like the cover it was. Viking aimed, fired, and quickly moved. Bullets blasted away his former location. Gunfire came from other spots on the mountain, too, drawing the Khardis’ attention.

Time to take a page out of Gideon’s book, Viking thought. He suppressed his other thought about Gideon having a force a hundred times larger than his. He wasn’t going to do the math now, but he was pretty confident the ratios were the same.

What came next was a period of confusion for the Khardis, wherein the Berserkers were untouchable, invisible. Terrified screams were silenced just as soon as they sounded from across the mountain. Viking stopped paying attention to what the Khardis were saying to each other. He only focused on stealthily moving after every strike. One by one they fell, and one by one the collective panic grew until one began firing at shadows.

“I... I could have sworn....”

Viking cut his Achilles tendon, and the man fell. The others didn’t know their comrade’s throat was slit until they turned him over. By then, Viking was pulling the trigger for his next kill. The panicked men started burning the mountain indiscriminately, but Viking kept his fire mask off. After all, devils had no fear of smoke or flame.