Coming of the Scooby Army
Ch 25 - Last Stands
Within the fenced and secured Sunnydale Army Base, the death count finally began to decrease. Of course, that was mostly because there were dramatically less people to kill. So far a full half of the humans in the fight for their lives had lost. One demon was dead when a semi-experienced Sunnydale graduate had thrown her gun away for a fire axe and planted it into one of Razor’s men’s heads.
Now, the Private, Anna Behest, had found a bit of respite by locking herself in a secured, heavy weaponry vault. She was surrounded by various caliber of artillery shell, a small consignment of land mines and another small consignment of rocket propelled grenades. She looked around at the ordinance with her and began thinking about how she was going to be able to use it….
Battles like Anna’s were occurring throughout the military installation. Men and women found themselves cut off from their fellows as all communications from walkie-talkies to cell phones were disrupted. Many, many fell while wildly and desperately firing their pistols and semi-automatic assault rifles to no noticeable effect.
Others, isolated and tackled to the ground - both men and women - screamed in horrendous torture as their orifices bloodily served to satiate the sexual impulses of their attackers. Their barbed penises tore through flesh, causing massive internal damage to those unfortunate enough to receive such attention.
Still others found better, if temporary, luck grabbing knives or letter openers or other pointed or edged metal objects. Several of Razor’s gang had puncture and slash marks from such random attacks, but they laughed off these injuries and continued their plundering and murdering.
In Command and Control, ten of the demon gang, including Razor and his most trusted minion, Spar were sweeping through the one story floor, killing all that they encountered.
In the nerve center of the base, down a long elevator ride, survivors huddled. Four men were stationed just in front of the elevator with armor piercing rifles pointed at the closed doors. Jacobs paced angrily and nervously from one side of the small room to the other, glaring at the computer technicians trying to get something… anything… out of their dead consoles. It was like the entire base had been swallowed up in an electro-magnetic pulse - power, computers, phones - all of it was out. Even the underground control room, designed specifically to continue operating in the event of a near direct nuclear strike was operating on emergency battery power only. He briefly wished that Riley and his band of weirdo-fighters was here, but he had no idea where the M-bots were hanging out, nor any way to contact Washington to get them there.
Riley Finn surveyed the looks on the faces of a couple of men approaching him and his superior, Colonel Ellis. It didn’t look like they had good news.
Which is why it didn’t come as a surprise when they reported they’d found no survivors in the wasteland that Los Rocas Pacificas, Nevada had become. So far they’d found ninety four dead, with enough parts to conclude three more. The latest numbers they had for the village was a population of one hundred-twenty four and Riley wanted to believe that a few of them managed to get out. They had military hardware in the sky circling the surrounding desert looking for survivors, but so far… nothing.
“Have you seen anything like this before,” Ellis asked him. He’d been completely briefed on Finn’s background, of course, when Miller had recommended his acceptance into the unit. He often used Riley’s experience in the odd settlement of Sunnydale to gain insights into the foes they faced.
“No. But then, Sunnydale had a dedicated team to keep this very type of thing from happening.”
“Too bad we don’t have a… what’s she called? Destroyer?”
“Slayer. The Slayer.”
“Right. Too bad we don’t have a few of those here,” Ellis said, before directing the two reporting men to join up with the squad a few blocks over going from house to house. “You want to go talk to Corporal Bone-tosser… we need a lead on where our quarry has gone, and he gives me the creeps.”
Corporal Bone-tosser was actually Corporal Anton Seville, a short and thin-as-a-read, mocha skinned geek of the highest order, who none-the-less was a talented soldier. He had multiple roles in the unit, as they all did, really. He acted as back-up medic, translator of Aramaic symbols, part time laptop fixer and scout. But he also happened to have come from a long line of seers who got their start generations back in voodoo on the island nation of Haiti before they’d made their way two generations ago to the U.S.
Corporal Seville had inherited a gift for reading the bones of chickens or any fowl when combined with meditative chants. It was a skill that his grandmother insisted he learned, even though he was always embarrassed by the ‘primitive-ness’ of it. But when he’d been inducted into the Meta-black Ops Teams, he’d quickly realized that they could use his bizarre skill and had ‘come out’ to Ellis and Miller about it.
There’d been skepticism of course, as expected. But it hadn’t taken but a few encounters with some of the exotic energy wielding demons before Ellis became a lot more interested in his claims. Now, he was the go to guy when they’d lost a trail.
That didn’t make it any less obvious that Colonel Ellis was still deeply uncomfortable with him, though….
As Riley came up to the bespectacled young man sitting cross-legged on the ground, he glanced up. His dried old collection of bones were laid out in a circle that had been carved into the dirt. Symbols surrounding the circle that Riley had seen plenty of times in situations matching this, but he still didn’t know what they meant. He could see for himself that all of the bones were laid out in parallel to one another on an east-west axis. The were all crowded against one another on the westward side of the circle, as well.
Anton confirmed what Riley already expected.
“West, Sir. We’re headed west toward the mountains.”
Finn turned and gazed into the darkness in the direction of the Pacific Ocean. A cold chill ran down his spine, as well as a feeling of anticipation. He knew in his gut where this was leading.
“Sunnydale,” he whispered to himself. Buffy.
Barbwire punched the concrete wall in frustration. His raiders found themselves stymied by the woman hiding in the secured room beyond. She’d managed to kill Crusher with an axe blow when the idiot rushed her, and that was something he couldn’t let go, otherwise they would have just left her alone and moved on.
They’d already tried to break through the plaster and concrete walls to bypass the thick door, but were angered and disappointed to find more thick steel walls blocking their entrance to the room beyond. The woman’s refuge had been built like a safe room and with their vulnerabilities to steel, they found themselves unable to deliver any shredding blows to the walls or the door that blocked their way.
In a pique of fury, Rasper nearly tore the electronic lock off of the door, before Barbwire intervened. He had a plan….
Sending Bonespike to fetch The Mystic, they all cooled their heels waiting. The bitch was going to find herself ‘entertaining’ them for quite a while, much to her regret for making them waste all of this time.
When The Mystic returned with Bonespike, Barbwire pushed him in front of the door.
“Open it,” he commanded.
After several seconds of studying the barrier in front of them, he grinned. The Mystic was single handedly responsible for their ability to attack and destroy without the rest of the world learning about it until it was far too late, you see.
It was he who mystically disrupted electronics, radio waves, even mystical communication with his powerful natural abilities. He was of the same race as the rest of the Annaldi - with their tannish-pink skin, nose-missing faces, and muscular builds. But, he was also, like Razor, a mutant. Where Razor’s ability involved vision, The Mystic’s involved the disruption of the electromagnetic spectrum.
For this reason, he very often missed out on a lot of the fun. Razor, and the others as well, were always sure to keep him to the rear of the major action, forcing him to be happy with their ‘sloppy seconds’. On the one hand, it gave him power to be so valued and needed but on the other, it also made him somewhat of a prisoner. He’d learned to live with it, if not to be happy about it.
Now he stared hard at the electronic keypad keeping them from whatever Barbwire was after beyond the door. He didn’t bother asking and no one had mentioned the purpose for getting it opened. It really didn’t matter - it wasn’t like he was going to refuse. If he was lucky there’d be a room full of tender children waiting, unarmed, so the others wouldn’t immediately push him behind them in a ridiculous and irritating desire to ‘protect’ him.
His arms were outstretched, the palms of each hand facing up in the direction of the ceiling above. From his palms, two large pits - like stigmata wounds - emitted mystical blue flame. The color of the flames were perfectly matched in hue by the eldritch energy in his eyes.
In front of the demons, the pad began to squeak and ping….
In the weapons vault, Anna Behest watched with growing horror as the keypad display on the inner side of the door began to randomly flash numbers. As the first, second, and third numbers of the code to get in froze on the display, she realized that she was fucked, in those exact words.
With a dawning sadness, but not nearly as much fear as she thought there would be, she looked over the heavy ordinance surrounding her. There were no launchers with the shells that needed them, of course - that would have made too much sense for the Army. Instead, they sat uselessly unless heaving them in the general direction of her assailants was going to be of any help.
Spying another fire axe behind the glass case in the room, she realized what she had to do. Anna thought of her mother and father in Sunnydale. She thought of her friends - some of them she hadn’t spoken to in a year. And, she thought about Buffy Summers and Xander Harris and the time when she was part of the bravest class of students who had ever overcome overwhelming odds. With no help but each other, they had saved the whole town. And, she’d been right there - doing her part.
It was the finest moment she’d ever had… the moment when she was the best that she could be… until now.
Private Behest silently wished everyone she loved good luck and as the last digit of the lock was entered and the heavy vault door began to swing open, she swung her heavy axe into the nearest explosive shell….
In Xander Harris’ apartment, the arguments about how safe Spike was were interrupted by a massive explosive noise rattling the windows. The outside was filled briefly with raging yellow and red light which quickly died down to a distant flickering.
William Schellden a.k.a, Spike, Xander Harris, Keith Campbell, Donna Rumboldt and Melanie Darns a.k.a. Tangina stood watching the glowing and obviously raging fire off in the northwest. Out on the streets, people left their homes and apartments to converse with one another over what was going on.
With the streetlamps completely out, the glow was even more pronounced and minutes later in rapid succession, another series of explosives rocked the town.
“Jesus,” Xander whispered.
“The Army base,” Spike said forcefully. “The only place nearby that would have the hardware to create that big a noise.”
“My God,” Tangina gasped. “This is what Sam tried to warn me about!”
“Sam,” Xander questioned, but Keith interrupted before he could find out who Sam was, and where, since he wasn’t with the rest of them in the apartment.
“W-what do we do? This can’t be vampires? I mean, they wouldn’t attack a base!”
“We don’t know it’s an attack at all,” Tangina pointed out. “It could be an accident.”
“Sunnydale doesn’t have ‘just accidents’,” Spike returned. Before anyone could respond any further he leaped over the side of the veranda, landing on his feet among startled spectators.
“Spike! What?!” Xander leaned out over the veranda, hand outstretched as if to hold the vampire back.
“Muster the troops - I’m checking it out - get ‘Buffy’!”
He dashed off at a very rapid speed toward the blazing Army base on the outskirts of town.
“Shit. This is going to be bad,” Xander muttered to his new companions….
BTVS seasons 1-4.
Spanderverse: After 314
BTVS: Real Me
Spanderverse: Confusion of Three
The Risks of Glory
Hunting Our Needs
The Family We Choose
Feints and Counter-Feints
BTVS: The Body
Songs of Pain and Comfort
Battling with a God
Spanderverse: Points of View One
Spanderverse: Points of View Two
Spanderverse: Points of View Three
Spanderverse: Points of View Four
The Cost of Giles