Gavin Smith: Crysis: Escalation

They had discussed it. Barnes had explained the order. If they just wanted to bug out he would understand and claim that he had given the order to hang back. It wasn’t an unpopular suggestion, he could tell, but they were soldiers.

Barnes had told them that he was prepared to try and make contact with the infected on his own.

T had told them that if the virus was airborne then they were all already infected. If not and it was from contact then he was probably infected, so it would be best if he made contact with them. Also he had the best medical training out of the four of them. The cowardly part of Barnes had wanted to let T do it.

Chavez had said that she was filming it anyway and command seemed to want intel. She had sworn a lot more, but that had been the crux of what she had said.

Earl had said nothing, just waiting for the others to make their decision.

That was how Barnes had found himself, flanked by Chavez and T, walking down the middle of the street trying not to slip on the now wet ice. They were walking towards a very large group of very sick people who seemed to be worshipping the strange spire. Earl was nowhere to be seen. He was watching over them through the scope on his M14. Barnes felt envy for the sniper, but conceded that Earl was where he could do the most good.

Barnes and T had their weapons slung diagonally across their front. They had their hands on them but weren’t pointing them at the sick people. Chavez’s M4 was pointed at them but only, she told herself, because of the camera.

Barnes had no real idea what he was supposed to be doing. T was looking all around but all the people seemed to be at the spire. The sick people were ignoring them. The closer they got the more they could see the horrible, seeping, tumorous growths. They were concentrated around orifices but some of the people were obviously more heavily infected and the growths covered a lot more of their visible skin. Many of the people present were also suffering from self-inflicted wounds. Often the wounds were on palms, feet or in the victim’s side. Barnes guessed they were supposed to represent stigmata.

‘What’ve we got, Earl?’ Barnes asked over the tac radio.

‘If there’s anyone else out here, I can’t see them,’ the sniper told him. It wasn’t the most reassuring way to phrase it, Barnes decided.

They were less than a hundred feet away from the mass of people. They had beatific expressions on their face. They were staring at the spire with unbridled religious adoration and awe. They couldn’t fail to notice the three soldiers stood out in the open, but were ignoring them.

‘Erm, excuse me?’ Barnes tried quietly. Chavez turned to look at him. It had been weak and he knew it. ‘Can I have your attention please? We are United States soldiers, we are here to help you! Is anyone in charge? Is there a doctor amongst you?’

A few of them turned around but then went back to worshipping the tower, though to Barnes their worship looked a little like gibbering and drooling.

‘Okay, now that we’ve tried to make contact can we leave?’ Chavez asked.

Good idea , Barnes thought.

‘Not until we get some intel,’ Barnes said. What fucking intel? he wondered angrily, these people are sick and mad. Chavez looked like she wanted to object but kept quiet. After all, she had agreed to come with them.

‘Are you the prophet?’ the question was asked in good, if slurred and heavily accented, English. The man wore hard-wearing jeans and work boots but the dog collar gave him away as a priest. The man’s throat looked swollen and there were growths all around his mouth, which explained the slurring, and the drooling. He had cuts all around his head. Barnes guessed it was supposed to suggest a crown of thorns.

‘What?’ Barnes was taken aback by the question. ‘No sir, I’m a United States soldier. We’re here to find out what’s happening and then report back so your government — with our help — can better respond to the situation here.’ Barnes cursed himself for mentioning their government. This area was controlled by FARC and there were FARC guerrillas amongst the congregation here.

‘I think you are the prophet,’ the priest said.

Well, this never happened in Iraq , Barnes thought.

‘Have they converted to Islam?’ Chavez asked.

‘Yes, that’s a Muslim mining drill they’re worshipping,’ T answered. The tension was apparently turning him sarcastic.

The priest started moving towards them. Other members of the strange congregation were starting to notice the three soldiers.

‘Father, what’s happening here?’ Barnes asked. ‘What is that thing?’

‘It is a herald,’ the priest told them. He was still advancing. Barnes found himself taking a step back and he noticed Chavez and T did the same thing. T slipped a little on the wet ice.

‘A herald of what?’ Barnes asked.

‘The god who brings the white flower. The winged serpent, Quetzalcoatl ,’ the father told them. Barnes glanced at Chavez. She just shrugged.

‘I think it was one of the words they were chanting,’ she told him.

More of the strange congregation were getting up now and moving to join the priest.

‘Maybe the cartel is testing drugs on them?’ T suggested as his mind desperately grabbed for rational explanations. The priest, and now more of the congregation, were advancing on the three of them.

‘Okay Father, I need you and the rest of your people to stay back. You could be contagious,’ Barnes told them.

‘Just say the word,’ Earl all but whispered over the tac radio.

‘What we got, Earl?’ Barnes asked.

‘Clear behind, all X-rays are in front of you.’

‘I think you are the prophet. There is light in your flesh. We must follow the light.’ The priest was becoming more intense. Some of the people advancing on them were starting to gibber in tongues. Others were just repeating the word profeta over and over again.

‘Sir, I’m going to have to ask you and the others to stay back!’ Barnes repeated, putting every ounce of authority that had been drilled into him by military service into his voice. They kept coming.

‘Just say the word,’ Earl repeated.

‘Yes, you are the prophet and the light and the flesh is the way to Quetzalcoatl .’

‘Okay, get back now!’ Barnes lifted the M4 and pointed it at the priest. T brought his weapon to bear as well. ‘If you do not stop moving then we will fire!’

‘I have a clear shot on the priest,’ Earl told him. Barnes felt beads of sweat appear and then freeze on his forehead.

‘The flesh and the light of the prophet is a sacrament and must be consumed it is the way to…’

‘Now,’ Barnes whispered over the tac radio. Barnes actually felt the bullet go past. The priest’s face collapsed in on itself and turned red. The priest remained standing for a moment and then toppled to the ground. ‘Weapons free,’ Barnes told the others.

The diseased congregation charged. Barnes had a moment to register a moving wall of people running at him. He opened fire, long bursts, the muzzle flash flickering at the end of the M4’s barrel. They started going down, but not nearly enough of them. Those hit were carried along in the press of the charge or fell to the floor, tripping over others coming from behind them, but always another person took their place.

T was firing long bursts as well, playing them across the press of the diseased people who were charging the three soldiers. The M249 SAW was designed for suppressing crowds, but that didn’t work when the people you were trying to suppress had no sense of self-preservation, when all they wanted to do was turn you into one of them.