Recoil

3

‘Coming through! Coming through!’

I was closing fast on the rear sangar, and I was stopping for no man. I kept shouting the warning and running. ‘Coming through!’

They heard me and didn’t know what the fuck was going on. They jumped up and turned to fire; I had to hold the RPG at arm’s length and hope they recognized the signal. If they shot me, I couldn’t do much about it.

I got through, and managed maybe another hundred and fifty metres unchallenged and unscathed. The lightning was less frequent now, but still highlighted the gang-fuck as it moved deeper into the valley. Bodies swarmed up the hillsides, overrunning the front sangars.

A couple more RPGs whooshed down from the knoll and exploded over the valley entrance. The fire echoing round the horseshoe was deafening. One burst whizzed past so close to me I could feel its vortex.

I was above the Nuka mob’s re-entrant. LRA were down there. Women screamed. A man howled like a dog.

For three or four seconds, lightning turned night into day. The howling man was curled in a ball. Two figures stood over him and slashed him apart with their gollocks. One woman after another was dragged away.

I had to carry on; I had to kick off the claymores.

It was another ten metres before I could get a good view of the valley entrance.

I fell to my knees. My chest heaved as I flipped up the iron sights on top of the launcher. It was impossible to get a sight picture through the little aperture in the dark, but easier to get a line using the mass of the two sights. The sky went dark.

Staying on my knees, I threw the RPG up on to my shoulder, right hand on the forward pistol grip, thumb pushing down on the cocking lever.

More screams from the nightmare below. I didn’t look down.

I felt for the rear pistol grip with my left hand. Both eyes still fixed on the mound, I lined up the sights so they were covering my target.

Right index finger into the trigger-guard, I took deep breaths as I waited for the next flash of lightning.

Fuck everything around me. All this shit and confusion was beyond me. If I worried about it, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on what I had to do next.

I focused completely on the mound, picturing the HE box and the slab inside it, picturing exactly where I’d left it as I tightened my grip on the launcher.

I fixed the line of fire in my head and waited for the next burst of light. I checked the cocking lever was down and, finger on the trigger, controlled my breathing, not wanting to move the launcher an inch.

There was another blinding blue flash and I saw what I needed to see.

I squeezed the trigger.

The weapon shuddered and so did I. The sustainer motor kicked in as I dropped into the mud.

The round hit the box of HE and exploded. A split second later, so did the claymores.

The ground rumbled beneath me. The shockwave reverberated round the valley and probably for miles beyond.

The stunned silence that followed lasted two, three, maybe five seconds. And then the screams began again.