That gave the boy fleet-of-foot, the men and women around him screaming as the hellfire burned them into charred corpses. As he ran, the boy rounded a corner and nearly collided with an oncoming scout tractor. It rolled to a halt just in front of him, the turret on it’s back launching fire-rain that ripped through the air with thunder-cracks. He ducked his head, moving around the vehicle and taking off toward further barricades.
“Left, move left!” came her voice, and he did so.
Just as he did, an orb of hellfire collided with a group of soldiers as they rushed to the front, dismembering three so as to send their limbs scattering through the air like boomerangs, trails of scarlet following in their wake. The other men were launched in different directions, their bodies alight with daemon-fire. He didn’t want to watch as their corpses were devoured by it. He continued running, this time skirting over sandbags and ducking under barbed wire.
“Down!” came her voice again.
He dropped to his chest, a scout vehicle careening over his head as a large explosion sent it flying to its demise. It rolled three times, crushing sandbags and men alike, until it came to rest upright, its hull flaming.
He jumped up, racing forward again. He jumped over several sandbags, landing in a trench and running across it.
He dodged right, following the trench corridor. Behind him, another explosion of noise warned him to duck even before she did.
A piece of flaming debris flew over his head, rolling several times in front of him. Then he jumped back up, racing down the corridor and avoiding the chunk of flaming metal. Before him, there was a gradual incline that lead to a tall bunker, machine guns within firing like thundering flashes of justice, eliminating the daemons by the fifties. It made no dent in their assault, however.
“Left!” she screamed, her voice fearful.
“But, it’s right there-”
“Left! Left now!”
He obeyed, racing into a small room within the trenches. Within the room, a table with layed out playing cards and dollar bills sat. The room smelled profusely of cigarette smoke, the walls made of dirt and the floors simply from wood planks, below which was dirt. A cabinet near the back of the room lay open, two gasmasks hanging on hooks within.
“Mask, now!” she shouted.
Confused, he obeyed and swiped a mask from the wall, strapping it on. Now, his vision was tinted green and blocked along the edges by the mask’s black rubber. His breathing sounded odd to him, but he’d worn a mask like this one before. Just as he secured the last strap, a low hanging mist reaching from the floor to his waist slid into the room.
“Get out of there, now! Get to the bunker!”