Phillip Simpson - Rapture

The APC continued to trundle along. More gunfire broke out. Sam heard the unmistakeable sound of the.50 calibre M2 machine gun open up above them. It was mounted on top of the vehicle and Sam almost felt sorry for anyone who got in the way of the lethal barrage of shells it was capable of unleashing. Next to them, the light tank started firing away with its main cannon.

The commander of the APC, a Captain Sam had never seen before, turned around and faced the troops.

“We’re nearing the Cathedral,” he shouted over the tumult. “The tank is clearing the way for us. The doors should be wide open when we get there. When I give the command, I want you all out of here. Use the APC for as much cover as possible. More support should be available as soon as the soldiers in the other vehicles get here. Go hard and get the job done.”

Sam glanced over to Grace. Her mouth was twisted up in anger and she was squeezing one of the hand-grips so hard her knuckles were turning white. Sam put one hand over hers and she gave him a tight smile in thanks.

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

“You just watch yourself,” she countered. “Try to come back in one piece.”

The APC suddenly slanted upwards, jolting the occupants as if climbing stairs. It juddered to a halt. The rear ramp slammed down. “Go, go, go,” yelled the Captain.

Sam raced out with the other soldiers, making sure he kept close to Grace. They found themselves in the ambulatory — the walkway leading into the church. The APC had stopped just within it and they were under heavy fire from the Antichrist’s troops at the top of a small incline. Just ahead of him was the Colonel’s tank. Its passage through the walkway had left a deep scar in the low roof. Now though, it appeared stuck. The tank wasn’t going any further.

Even as he watched, its main cannon fired a shell at the enemy troops ahead of them, the roar deafening in the confined space. The round flashed straight into the concrete roof above the heads of the crouching defenders. The roof exploded, showering both sides with lumps of concrete and white powder. A chunk of rock narrowly missed his head as it whizzed past. He looked around for Grace and was relieved to find that she was crouched nearby, sheltering next to the armoured bulk of the APC. Sam saw some of the enemy crushed by great chunks of stone while the others retreated, unable to match the firepower at the Colonel’s disposal.

The entire walkway shuddered. The roof, not designed to withstand the punishment it had just taken, collapsed completely, burying the tank and partially covering the APC. The friendly forces surrounding Sam slowly stood up, dusting white powder off their uniforms and checking themselves for injuries. Vaguely, he realized he had been the only person standing throughout. Some of the soldiers roused themselves and began clambering over the tank, trying to clear the rubble and free their trapped Colonel.

Sam looked up. The collapse of the walkway’s roof had an entirely unexpected effect, revealing the actual Cathedral for the first time. It soared above him, magnificent in its grandeur. Sam had to admit it was spectacular. Under different circumstances, he would have loved to have come here and explore this wonderful structure. He was about to look away when he noticed furtive movement on the rooftop. He opened his mouth to shout a warning but it was too late.

Beside him, the Captain had just given the order to advance. The words were barely out of his mouth when he was struck several times by an extremely high powered rifle, punching straight through his armoured flak jacket. Time was beginning to slow down again for Sam and he saw the bullets as they exited through the Captain’s chest. He looked down in horror at the gaping hole that had once been his chest, glanced once at Sam and then toppled to the ground, dead.

“Snipers!” yelled Sam, silently cursing himself for his delay. If only he’d been a bit quicker. “Get down.”

Around him, the other soldiers complied, finding cover and returning fire. He grabbed Grace and pulled her towards a nearby pile of rubble, Sam feeling impotent as Grace fired her Baretta at the targets above her. His swords were useless in this situation.

The gunner on top of the APC pivoted the M2 skywards and opened up, sending a deadly barrage at the figures on the rooftop. The roar of the heavy gun was shockingly loud in the confined space. The defenders returned fire, sparks flying off the APC as it was hit several times.

“RPG! One of them’s got an RPG!” shouted a voice from someone close by.

The warning, once again, came too late. A figure on the roof was standing, the unmistakeable shape of a rocket launcher over his shoulder. The rocket propelled grenade shot out, straight at the APC. It slammed into the turret, exploding with concussive force and a shower of molten shrapnel. The heavy M2 machine gun stopped firing, the operator lying slumped next to the burning wreckage.

“For God’s sake, take him out!” roared a familiar voice. Sam looked over at the tank. The other soldiers had not been idle. They had cleared the rubble off the top of the armoured vehicle, enabling the Colonel to reemerge. Judging from his expression, he was not pleased with the way the battle was going so far.

Chastened, his troops rushed to obey, returning fire with renewed vigour. The tank’s main cannon was swivelling, trying to get a bead on the roof, impeded slightly by twisted pipes of reinforcing iron dangling from the almost completely destroyed ceiling. Sam could see the enemy soldiers on the roof desperately looking for cover.

The tank’s cannon fired, hitting a spot only slightly to the left of where the RPG user had frantically been trying to reload. He disappeared in a fireball along with several of his comrades and a large chunk of the Cathedral roof. Wreckage once again rained down upon the attackers.

The Colonel turned to his troops. “Well,” he demanded impatiently. “What are you waiting for? Go and get them!”

Several of his men cheered. Almost as one, the soldiers charged down the destroyed walkway, leaping over piles of rubble. Sam and Grace followed behind them slightly more cautiously.

Ahead of them, the other soldiers were finding positions of cover, darting into openings of several smaller devotional chapels that opened up onto the walkway.The forces of the Antichrist had used the distraction during the rooftop fire fight to dig in, and had once again opened up on their attackers. The soldiers laid down a covering fire, forcing the defenders back into other openings.

Sam used the opportunity to charge up the incline, drawing his swords, with Grace just behind him firing her Beretta. He felt bullets impact against his armour but it didn’t even slow him down. A man rose up before him, snarling, and Sam cut him down without hesitation. Two more moved to replace him but Sam dispatched them without thinking.

They sped around a corner, content to let the resistance deal with the rest of the Antichrist’s followers, and found themselves in the Baptistry. Steps led down into an immersion pool, into which four red granite fonts poured a continuous stream of water. Sam was surprised to see it still working although he knew that the water pouring from it would no longer be holy.

They descended the steps quickly. Sam was about to step into the water but before he could, three sinuous figures rose, dripping water down their all-but naked bodies. Sam froze. He had encountered these creatures before. Succubi. He felt his pulse starting to race as they moved seductively towards them. His eyes darted between them, feasting on the glorious sight of their flesh. His swords fell with a clutter from nerveless fingers. He didn’t even notice. All he cared about was touching these beautiful creatures. Voices were whispering in his head telling him that it was alright. Touch them, kiss them, the voice commanded.