MayorMcT
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jan 26, 2014
- Posts
- 111
(Not ready to read yet.)
Father Bennett hurried to the tall gates that protected the village of Thompson's Pass from the dangers of the valley below. He shooed the children back to their homes and ordered those adults who were armed -- mostly women widowed by the long war -- to stack their weapons near the fountain in the center of the Square.
"But father!" one of the older women objected, dismayed by the order to disarm.
Bennett pointed at the ancient, single shot .22 caliber rifle in the woman's hands and challenged, "Are you going to stop them with that?"
The strong headed woman hesitated. She didn't like the idea of being unarmed when the strangers outside the gate were let inside. But Bennett was right. Even the valley's poorest equipped Militia was better armed than the villagers. And the squad outside the gate now was anything but a poorly equipped Militia.
As she turned to add her weapon to the growing pile near the fountain, Bennett signaled the Gate Watch to pull the pin securing the barrier. Unlocked, the twenty foot tall gates were pulled open to reveal the squad.
Bennett's eyes widened, as did those of the stunned villagers behind him. The squad didn't look like regular soldiers: they looked more like executioners, a Death Squad.
"We offer you no resistance, sir," Bennett said with a respectful tone. "Anything you need ... anything you ask of us..."
He half turned and made a welcoming gesture. His hands were trembling, despite desperately trying to hide his fear. The Militias in the valley below often visited Thompson's Pass, looking for food, supplies, or companionship. They typically did little real or lasting harm and rarely took a life. They were known and predictable.
But this squad was like nothing Bennett had ever seen. And in this world, ravaged by more than half a century of on again, off again war, the unknown was more frightening to the village's holy man than anything known could be.
One of the soldiers stepped closer to Bennett, and even with his face obscured by his gas mask, it was obvious to the Father that the man was studying him. After a long moment, the man made a casual gesture, and four of the five men behind him -- operating in pairs -- headed into the village to search the homes. Children, women, and a few men -- mostly old or infirmed -- were rushed out to sit with the others in the square. A handful of weapons were tossed out onto the beaten earth during the search.
Eventually, the four soldiers returned to stand over the villagers. Bennett caught sight of one of the men nodding silently to the leader, then turned to look at the head man just as he removed his mask and helmet. He was young, maybe 25, white, and handsome. There wasn't anything particularly special about him Bennett thought. Just another soldier.
The other soldiers began removing their masks and helmets, and Bennett's eyes widened yet again. They shared the same face! Oh, their hair was different, and scars or tattoos gave each a bit of a unique look. But there was little doubt that they came from the same gene pool. Bennett thought that maybe they were all related, maybe brothers and cousins.
"Super soldiers," one of his flock whispered behind him. "They do exist."
Unwelcome Saviors"
Father Bennett hurried to the tall gates that protected the village of Thompson's Pass from the dangers of the valley below. He shooed the children back to their homes and ordered those adults who were armed -- mostly women widowed by the long war -- to stack their weapons near the fountain in the center of the Square.
"But father!" one of the older women objected, dismayed by the order to disarm.
Bennett pointed at the ancient, single shot .22 caliber rifle in the woman's hands and challenged, "Are you going to stop them with that?"
The strong headed woman hesitated. She didn't like the idea of being unarmed when the strangers outside the gate were let inside. But Bennett was right. Even the valley's poorest equipped Militia was better armed than the villagers. And the squad outside the gate now was anything but a poorly equipped Militia.
As she turned to add her weapon to the growing pile near the fountain, Bennett signaled the Gate Watch to pull the pin securing the barrier. Unlocked, the twenty foot tall gates were pulled open to reveal the squad.
Bennett's eyes widened, as did those of the stunned villagers behind him. The squad didn't look like regular soldiers: they looked more like executioners, a Death Squad.
"We offer you no resistance, sir," Bennett said with a respectful tone. "Anything you need ... anything you ask of us..."
He half turned and made a welcoming gesture. His hands were trembling, despite desperately trying to hide his fear. The Militias in the valley below often visited Thompson's Pass, looking for food, supplies, or companionship. They typically did little real or lasting harm and rarely took a life. They were known and predictable.
But this squad was like nothing Bennett had ever seen. And in this world, ravaged by more than half a century of on again, off again war, the unknown was more frightening to the village's holy man than anything known could be.
One of the soldiers stepped closer to Bennett, and even with his face obscured by his gas mask, it was obvious to the Father that the man was studying him. After a long moment, the man made a casual gesture, and four of the five men behind him -- operating in pairs -- headed into the village to search the homes. Children, women, and a few men -- mostly old or infirmed -- were rushed out to sit with the others in the square. A handful of weapons were tossed out onto the beaten earth during the search.
Eventually, the four soldiers returned to stand over the villagers. Bennett caught sight of one of the men nodding silently to the leader, then turned to look at the head man just as he removed his mask and helmet. He was young, maybe 25, white, and handsome. There wasn't anything particularly special about him Bennett thought. Just another soldier.
The other soldiers began removing their masks and helmets, and Bennett's eyes widened yet again. They shared the same face! Oh, their hair was different, and scars or tattoos gave each a bit of a unique look. But there was little doubt that they came from the same gene pool. Bennett thought that maybe they were all related, maybe brothers and cousins.
"Super soldiers," one of his flock whispered behind him. "They do exist."
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