Effects Of War

by MarcusBullet

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Human, Sad, Tragedy
Length: 9516

The effect of war on Teenage bodies and minds can be a dangerous thing...

Follow the story of six young Australian adults from the war-torn city of Aleppo in Syria to the world of Equestria; the most peaceful and war-free area to ever existed. Can the always happy and friendly Ponies help the mentally and physically traumatized humans? Find out in 'Effects Of War'
*Takes place during Nightmare Moon Arc*
(This is a story that me and my mate from Russia had been talking about for sometime, and we understand it may cause some distress or in some cases, offensive. Please, this story is meant for entertainment purposes, but the war is not to be taken lightly. Some scenes actually happened in the conflict; as my mate said. So, if it is too offensive or just plain wrong; please send me a PM and if there is enough messages, I will remove it.)
!Caution!
The following story has:
-Gore
-Strong coarse language
-Strong violence
-War themes

>>/ THIS STORY IS IN NO WAY SUPPORTING THE ON-GOING CONFLICT IN SYRIA \<<

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-01 00:20:02 UTC

Chapter 1: The Random Forest

Location: Aleppo, Syria

Date: 3rd August, 2012

“Go! Go! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run!” Dale shouted over the ear-shattering gunshots.  Hot bullets whizzed past his body, hot air traced them leaving warm marks of near misses on his skin. It was a scary feeling. The feeling that death will strike in a second, cutting down everything you have ever done in your life.

His own gun, an Austrian Steyr AUG A3 Close Quarter Combat rifle with an ACOG sighting that he borrowed from a military base, is in his left hand, clutched by a grey fingerless glove while his right is pushing a female to an opened door. He wore a brown combat vest that had magazines for his rifle, another thing he borrowed from the army; His black shirt underneath was pale white from dirt, plaster and dry blood. His blue jeans also shared the same fate. On his back is a large brown and green backpack that bulged with material inside. And lastly, resting on his buzz cut head was a brown cap and covering his eyes was a pair of black sunglasses.

The girl in front of him was one of the four people he has to defend. Her name was Mariah Trish, one of the people that Dale absolutely hates. He wonders why he does not just put a bullet in the head, or leave her to the soldiers that are currently shooting at him. But, as much as he hated it, he couldn’t. It was only because he knew her brother and father very well before coming to this hell hole; Syria.

Syria was not the place to go on a vacation, only if you are suicidal or insane, or both. But Dale wasn’t here for a vacation. No. He was asked -pleaded- by Mariah and another girl, Teri, to help her and two others to give assistance to the sick and injured of the civil war in Syria.

Dale shook his head over the noise and continued to push Mariah into a house, its door blown off from the outside. The house itself was riddled with bullet holes and slabs of rock were piled underneath it. There was only one window that had only thin bits of steel bars to cover it. Behind it was a sudden burst of fire, there was someone inside, and Dale knew who it was. It has his best and most trustworthy partner; Alex Black.

He was a monstrous tanned-teenager, easily towering Dale. His arms were as thick as his thighs and held the power of breaking doors down easily. He had short black hair that was held down by a green beanie.  A scrubby beared worked across his jaw, nearly blending in with the Arabs. Black eyes that held strength and determination were behind the sights of his rifle. He wore a white t-shirt with the anime ‘Bleach’ on the right breast, the same combat vest with magazines, and long dark blue jeans. Alex also has the same backpack as Dale, but with the Mosin Nagant M91 Sniper Rifle on the left side. Being the best shot out of the two, it was best to leave it to him.  In his hands was the standard AK-47 that he found on the first day he arrived in Syria. And right now, he was providing covering fire for Dale and Mariah.

As they entered, and pushing Mariah into the room behind an over turned desk, Dale joined Alex at the window, his whole body pressed against the wall.

“You alright?” Alex shouted to his friend, flinching when a bullet collided with the corner of the window, spraying dirt and rocks in the opposite direction.

“Yeah!”

“Fucking lucky mate!” Alex and Dale popped from their positions and fired back, holding back the converting army of Syrian Soldiers.

“Where is the rest?” Dale shot towards a single soldier at the corner of the road, who was crouching and firing his AK. The bullets stuck his chest and his shin, making him topple to the ground, screaming in Arabic.

“In the back!”  He pulled his head back in, narrowly missing a hot object wiz past. Alex let out three successful rounds, killing a man with a large machine gun that was running to the other side of the street.

“Righto!” Dale responded. Alex picked up a fresh magazine for his gun from the ground, which Dale guessed that he had placed when the firefight transpired.

As Dale poked his head out, spying the enemy in front of him. If he guessed, there were twenty soldiers with machine guns and…

A lone soldier ran from his cover with a long tube on his shoulder.

… Rocket Propelled Grenades.

Dale saw him, so did Alex, and at the same time they aimed—

Only to pull back behind cover as a volley of bullets smacked at the wall.

“Providing cover for the big man.” Alex growled angrily as the bullets smashed against the stone wall. Dale did the same, trying every so often to take a shot, but he always gets sent back to cover. He kept cursing out loud, if by somehow it will stop the enemy’s fire so he can return it quickly.

Dale only wanted to get the guy with the RPG. He had seen the destruction from it first hand, and he didn’t want to be the one getting hit with one.

DOOM!

The sound of the rocket nearly silenced the gunfire as it flew towards the two young adults. But oddly, it veered left and struck the building two houses away, but he still felt the deafening BANG and the shockwave. By now they would have been deaf from the loud noises and explosions, if it hadn’t been for a specially designed ear plugs that were created by the Yanks to cancel anything out above 100 decibels, and he cherishes them every day.

Dust soon clouded the street from the RPG round, obscuring the area in a light grey colour. Dale and Alex took the opportunity to poke their guns out and fire wildly into the cloud. The sounds of rounds hitting walls, footpaths, metal and luckily, human flesh rang out from the smog. There were cries of pain and screams in Arabic that Dale did not understand. Then they returned fire.

Dale had the chance to duck back behind cover when the third bullet clipped the corner of the window, but Alex wasn’t so lucky. As he pulled away from the window, a stray round punctured his left shoulder, sending him spiralling away from the window, a mist of red exploded from the wound onto a desk behind him. He let out an ear splitting scream as he toppled to the ground, his gun forgotten as he clutched his shoulder in an effort to stop the pain. Dale immediately ran to him while staying low, tears running down his face from the dust and the condition of his friend.

“AH!” Alex bellowed, his body twitching violently as he trashed on the ground. Mariah poked her head from the table and saw her friend on the ground with blood coating his arm. She screamed and ran to his collapsed body without looking out for herself. Mariah dived to the ground; narrowly missing a bullet that whizzed past. Her blue jeans protected most of the scrapping on her legs while the very dirty white t-shirt did not. Scratches and bruises covered her whole arms from previous conflicts, and fresh blood seeped down her elbow from hitting the ground.

“GUAH! FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUCK!” Alex screamed to the heavens, clutching his shoulder and flaying around like a mad fish.

Mariah got to the other side of Alex while Dale was on the other, his hands on his best friends chest in an effort to stop his thrashing. The cap wearing boy snapped his sight to Mariah, “Get Chantelle, I’ll buy time!” He swirled his body and shot through the window, the sound echoing in the room.

Mariah quickly grabbed Alex’s gloved hand and pressed it on his wound. He howled in pain and loudly sobbed.

Mariah coughed for a moment then cried, “Chantelle, help! Alex has been shot!”

From the other room in the back, a Caucasian woman ran out and towards Mariah. She is the shortest out all of her mates, but her heart was the biggest. She loved everyone and everything, even the enemy they were fighting. She had blonde hair that was pulled into a ponytail, dazzling hazel eyes, and had an athletic built. She wore a dark green t-shirt that was spattered in blood and dirt. Brown Khaki pants that were full of random stuff that Dale didn’t even know, brown hiking boots and a large brown backpack. On the side was a red plus sign that she personally put on for the hell of it.

She slid to the fallen young man and to the distraught woman, a handy move that she had learnt by observing the Combatants. Chantelle quickly evaluated the wound and began to work.

“Get the pads in my bag and place it on the wound, and put lots of pressure on it!” She yelled over the noise. More gunshots came from Dale as he kept the Syrian Army at bay.

Mariah acted swiftly by opening the front pocket and pulling out a white packet with a white cloth inside. She immediately ripped the top part off with her teeth and grabbed the innards before chucking away the empty packed. Moving Alex’s hand away from the wound, Chantelle unclipped the chest rig, ripped the shirt around the wound and exposed it for her to see.

A dark circle about the size of her thumb was on the top left of his breast away from the lung. Blood ran freely from the puncture, streaming down his chest and arm like a red dyed river. She also noted how his arm was still moving, so it didn’t hit and destroy the joint.

Using the cloth, Mariah pressed it on his wound and held it despite Alex’s screams of pain. This drew Dale’s attention from the shooting to his friend’s wails of pain.

“How’s it looking?” He said. Chantelle placed her hand in between Alex’s body and bag for any exit wounds. She found one. It was the size of a golf ball and if she had guessed, the bullet went through and into the bag.

“It’s not an AK shot.” She muttered. If it did though, there would be a bigger and gruesome hole in his arm, or maybe he would have no arm.

Mariah handed her a spare cloth and with delicate movements, took off the backpack and placed the fabric on his exit wound.

“The bullet went through, But Dale,” Chantelle stared into Dale’s eyes, ducking so often every shot, “He needs to go to the hospital!”

Dale said, “The closest hospital is over there,” he pointed his gun in the direction of the Syrian soldiers, “And one after the bushes behind this house.” Dale then added, “But they’re probably fucking packed or full of those bastards!” He let loose a few rounds of his rifle, “So just stich him up for now, pump him full of Morphine or whatever, just DON’T,”

Bang!

“LET,”

Bang Bang!

“HIM,”

Bang!

“DIE!”

Mariah and Chantelle acknowledged and went to work. While that was happening, Dale tucked away his empty magazine into his chest rack and loaded another one, dropped the bolt, before going straight back into shooting. The dust before vanished a few minutes ago, giving the young man a clear view of the street. The sun is starting to fall on the city, giving it a light orange glow on the streets.

Dale had counted thirteen soldiers with standard Russian made AK’s and Heavy machine guns. They were at a ‘T’ section with seven soldiers on the right with six on the left. Suddenly, a lone man ran out to the middle of the street; it was the same man with the RPG from before. And he has another grenade ready.

Quickly, Dale peered down the sights of his rifle, placed the marker on his chest and pulled the trigger.

CLACK!

The familiar sound of a round going off didn’t happen.  The primer had been struck, but the powder didn’t ignite and the bullet hadn’t leapt from the chamber. It was jammed.

“FUCK!” With haste, he grabbed the bolt and pulled back. It didn’t budge.

The RPG man shifted his stance.

Again, Dale pulled the bolt. Still stuck. He looked at the Arab man in the distance with the rocket launcher in fear. Everything went quiet, as if someone muted the world. The guns had ceased and their cries silenced. He stared hard, wanting him just to ignite spontaneously. But, as much as it hurts, it won’t work.

It was all over for them.

Everything they done in the span of a month; Helped Children, bandaged the men, cared of the elderly, fought the enemy and much more. And now, this is the end for them.

“Hopefully the girls survive this and get out from here. Heh. I told them this was a bad idea.” He looked at the fallen AK on Alex’s bag, even if he had got hold of the rifle it wouldn’t matter anyway.

The man shifted again from his crouch position, and he—

CRACK!

There was a sudden crack that tore through the quiet street, and unexpectedly, the man’s head had snapped back with a fine mist behind him. His body turned to the left and somehow, probably his nerves twitched, and let loose the rocket towards his team!

Dale quickly realised, “Sniper.”

The explosion ripped across the field and the similar cloud of dust engulfed the area in a matter of seconds. There was numerous of screams and yelling from behind the dust screen, but Dale tuned them out as he pulled back the bolt and it finally came loose, the crappy bullet flying in the air.

Then, he heard a noise that he easily knew.

“Allahu Ackbah!”  A voice yelled from above the house that they are hiding in at the moment.  Soon, there was a chorus of the chant and an explosion of gunfire came from the roof and streets. The Free Syrian Army has arrived. Dale quickly used this as an advantage and yelled;

“We’re getting the fuck out of here!” The young man looked down the road, the dust nearly parted from the explosion and the wails and cries were quieter than before.

Dale soon joined Chantelle and Mariah that were overlooking Alex with extreme concern. Alex’s breathing had become stable and the sobbing had vanished, his eyes wide and aware.

“W—” Alex groaned lightly, “Where’s my gun?”

Dale lightly chuckled; no matter how much pain, shock or trauma that Alex is going through, he still wants his gun.

Chantelle cleared her throat, “Next to your bag, now is the—” She stopped when Alex grabbed onto Mariah’s shoulder with his good hand. Understanding, she snaked her hand around the large teen’s body and lifts his body to his feet. Alex grunted from the light pain, thanks to morphine that Chantelle gave him, and said to Dale “Dale, let’s get out of here!”

“Righto!” Dale immediately turned on his heels and headed to the dark room. Chantelle scooped up Alex’s AK and held it against her shoulder while Mariah grabbed his bag. She grunted from its weight but slung it on her back, and thank god that Alex could walk for the time being, waddled after Dale, and soon followed by Chantelle.

The room was just like the room previous. There was a table turned on its side next to the corner and a bed that had no sheets. A wooden door with a small gaping hole was on the opposite side of the bed.

Inside of the room right in the corner was Teri Connors. She had tan skin, black eyes and hair and had the body of a stick figure.  She had a white button shirt that was dirt ridden and had blood splotches across the front. She wore brown khaki pants and hiking shirts. In front of her shoes was a brown sachet bag with a sling that went from the shoulder to the hip and a black backpack.

Dale jumped the bed and ran to Teri, “Come on suka*, we’re leaving!”

Grabbing her arm, he hoisted her up and pushed her lightly to the door. He swiped both her bags and chucked it to her, not wanting to be in the house any longer.

He suddenly stopped, “Oi, where’s Molly?”

“Here!” A voice came from beside him.  A pure blonde haired woman poked her head from behind the table and looked at Dale with shining blue eyes. Her face was angelic and lightly tanned skin with no scars or wrinkles on her features. A blue bandana was across her neck as well.

“Come on, we gotta go!” Suddenly, bullets attacked the room sending dirt and debris all over. Dale immediately dived to the ground beside the table. Thunderous cracks and snaps from rifles echoed the room and streets. Dale reached over the table and grabbed Molly’s thin arms. She wore a lightly dirty white sports singlet that hugged her body, even though Dale thought it was stupid to wear that but held back the comment, and dirty blue jeans.

Her light body was easy to pick up and over the table. With no hesitation, he pushed her to the door while yelling “Go!” over and over again. The two teens ran across the stone pavement, dodging and weaving fallen debris.

BOMF!

A large dust cloud engulfed the garden and house making it disappear like magic. The whole house that Dale and the others were just in fell to the ground with a loud rumble and a new cloak of dust and sulphur. There were more choruses of ‘Allahu Ackbah’ coming from around the buildings surrounding the now destroyed complex.

They took a left turn at a corner—

And suddenly collide with a man. Dale and the unknown fella fell to the ground, their rifles falling to the sides. Molly was the only one standing to see it all unfold.

“Abdul?” She asked. The tan bearded man quickly looked up and saw her.  He gave an impressive smile and a shout of joy.

“Ha ha, pretty Molly! You make it!” He wrapped her in his arms, ignoring the rising teen on the side. Mollie hugged back with gusto, glad for her friend to be alive.

“Abdul, it’s good to see you safe.” Dale picked up the man’s rifle, a Steyr AUG A1, and held it out to him.

“This is yours mate, better hold on to it.” He grinned, the fighting beforehand quietened for the moment that silenced the city once more.

The blue sport jacketed Arab man turned and faced the voice, “Ah! My friend Dale! How wonderful to see you again.” His fractured English and Arabic accent yelled with happiness and gratitude.

“Likewise brother.” Dale’s grin widened and shook Abdul’s hand.

“I saw rest of friends; they are meeting at safe house. We must go.” Dale gave a nod and with that, followed the Free Syrian Fighter to the safe house.

----Free Syrian Army Safe House----

“How’s he looking?” Dale whispered to Chantelle with worry in his voice. The room was packed full of fighters, armless civilians that were caught in the crossfire, numerous dead bodies on the ground covered in sheets or blankets, a child with no left leg and a missing eye and the Australians. Outside, the world had fallen dark and the quietness engulfed the area. Not even the bugs chirped and clicked or the dogs barked and whined. Silence. Out on the front door were two Freedom Fighters armed with Kalashnikov’s, idling talking and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes.

Abdul was crouched beside Dale as they watched his friend’s chest slowly raise and fall. His chest gig was on his backpack as was his AK and sniper rifle. The bandages were darkening with blood and he was beginning to sweat badly. He would twitch every so often.

“Nightmares,” Dale thought offhand, “something I know very well.”

“Not good, he’s falling into shock!” She whispered harshly, “We can’t stay here; he needs to get to a real hospital.”

Dale gave an agitated growl, “Like how we aren’t supposed to be here in this fucking hellhole at the start? As I keep saying, as soon as our government finds out we are fighting here and what not, there goes your chance at being a Doctor and 9 years in prison! All of us! Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my arsehole stretched for those years!”

“What we are doing Dale,” She pointed a finger at the child in the back, “Is helping the innocent and injured of this country.  Why can’t you see that Dale? Sure it’s extremely dangerous and illegal but think damnit, it’s better to do something then nothing at all!”

“Oh get real Chantelle; I thought you were smarter than this! Smarter than Mariah and Teri! How can six teens… TEENS… fix a fucking country huh? HOW!”

By now, these two were at each other’s faces while Abdul spectates with a stone face. Mariah just walked in with a silver camera in her hand and a smoke in the other. She had just taken photos of the soldiers and the city out front and now wanted more inside. She snapped a few of the injured Syrians, the Resistance soldiers and other things to add to her collection. The soldiers would do peace signs as they got their photos taken, while others branched their AK’s.

“And what the fuck are Mariah and that doing huh? Absolutely fuck all! All they do is taking those fucking photos,” He grabbed a bandage wrap and tossed it at Mariah’s head. It harmlessly bounced off her and she snapped her glaze towards the fuming teen, “Laze around, having a great FUCKING time while Alex and I are fucking shooting to save you and their selfish lives!”

“That is what she is meant to do Dale! She takes photos and videos to send to the government, making them realise that these people need help!”

“I think they bloody know that Chantelle, how the fuck did you know about it then huh?” Dale’s face was absolutely red with rage while Chantelle’s was close to tears. This always happens after every firefight; Dale would get angry at Mariah at first, then Teri, Mollie and lastly Chantelle. Dale respected Chantelle because of what happened two weeks ago, and she always makes him smile. But today, the stresses of the close death, his friend being shot and Sleep deprivation is shortening his mental fuse.

“Why the hell are you taking this on me Dale, what did I do?” She cried, scrunching her hands in anguish. Dale bowed his head in shame. He slowly took off his glasses and rests it on his knee.

After taking a deep breath he replied, “I’m sorry Chantelle. It’s just… What happened to Alex, the fights and… Augh,” He rubbed his face, “I don’t know, it’s just getting to me.”

Chantelle quickly cast away her anger and gave him a sad smile, placing her hand on his hand. There were no words to be said. Well, except for Alex.

“Oh, get a room. And if ya get a kid, dibs godfather.” He grunted but his stupid grin was on his face.

“La. I wish to be godfather, you can have next one.” Abdul threw his two cents in. He only wanted Dale and Chantelle to stop arguing and get into a happy conversation. And it worked.

Dale playfully growled, “You aren’t getting shit the both of you.”

Abdul roared with laughter while Alex chuckled, only to wince in pain.

“How does it look?” He asked.

“Well, you won’t be wanking for a while I can tell you that.” Again, Abdul laughed hard while Chantelle tried to hold it in. She was failing hard.

“Na, that’s why I got you baby.” Alex replied in a fake gay tone. That did it. The three howled in laughter and toppled over, tears streaking their face.  The situation must have been infectious because everyone in the room started to laugh. It was small at first but it grew and grew until the whole room sounded like a concert. No one knew why, par the four, but it seem to relieve the thick tension in the room despite the civil war outside.

The room quieted as it came, the silence engulfing once more. Dale suddenly rocked to Chantelle with a yawn and quickly snapped back into his position before. Chantelle looked at Dale again; His eyes were wavering and lightly dark bags underneath. His back was slouched to the point that he looks like he is going to go head first into the ground.

“Dale, when was the last time you slept?” She asked softly. Abdul stood up and walked away, saying he needed to see Teri. Dale didn’t hear or notice anyone for a moment, his eyes shutting tightly and opening repeatedly.

“Huh?” He dully said, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand.

“When was the last time you slept?” She repeated a bit louder.

“…Oh um…” He pinched his eyebrow, “Three days ago I think, maybe four?”

Chantelle scoffed angrily and slapped his arm, “Why are you doing this to yourself Dale? You know that’s bad for your body and brain?”

“What brain?” Alex injected but was ignored.

“Someone’s gotta look out for youse at night.” Dale weakly said.

“I know. Why can’t you and Alex take turns?”

“We do,” Dale poked Chantelle in the ribs in an effort to make her smile again, it didn’t work, “I stay up for four nights then he stays up for two nights, it’s that simple.”

“What?” She glared at him, “Dale, that doesn’t make sense. Why does he sleep more then you?”

“Because I’m me and my body does things differently.” Chantelle sighed in defeat, it’s impossible to get in his head. To make matters worse, she doesn’t know what goes in his head most of the time.

She eyed him as he pulled out a pepperoni stick from his backpack and lightly munch on it. Before they left four months ago; he was always happy, cheerful and playful but she noticed the strain on his face when he did so. He was hiding something even during schooling years. When no-one was looking, he had a far off look on his face and eyes that seem to fill with anger and sadness. Whenever he gets himself into fights either with teachers or students, there is always a little dark spark in his eyes that seem to burst with unkempt aggression and bloodthirstiness; a demon behind a happy façade. She was a bit put off when he and Alex were ‘Recruited’ into the little group as security and reconstruction.

And when they got themselves in their first firefight on day three, that’s when Chantelle began to think that Dale was a hidden psychopath. He had taken a fallen Free Syrian Soldiers AK and with incredible accuracy, shot the soldiers one by one without so much as an inch of emotion. And what frightened her more was when the fighting subsided; a lone injured soldier with no hand and a heavily bleeding stomach began to crawl away in an effort to flee. Dale was grinning wildly as aimed the rifle, and with three bullets, ended the soldier’s life.

“Chantelle?” A feminine voice broke her out of a trance. She looked behind and saw Molly and a little Arab child beside her. He was holding a dirty white rag on his hand and dry tear streaks covered his face.

“Yes?”  She replied.

“This is Altair*1, Altair this is Chantelle, Dale and Alex,” She cooed sweetly to the boy, lightly pushing him to the crouching woman. He smiled broadly and said, “Marhaba Chantelle, Alex and Dale.”

Chantelle giggled, “Marhaba Altair.”

Dale, with a huge grin, said, “Hey Altair, can you translate something for me?”

The little boy cocked his head to the side, “Ok?”

Dale cleared his throat and said, “La shai'a waqi'on motlaq bal kollon momken.” This made Chantelle, Molly and Altair pull a face while Alex snickered on the ground.

Altair thought for a moment and replied, “Nothing is true and everything is permitted.”

Dale immediately fell to the ground, laughing his head off. Alex laughed loud as well despite the wound. Molly and Altair looked at one and other in confusion while Chantelle processed it in her head. Then it clicked.

“Goddamnit Dale, he is not a video game character!” He just laughed harder in response. Chantelle shook her head in disappointment and said to the Arab kid, “Don’t worry about those idiots.”

Dale recovered shortly after and whipped a tear. He sighed happily and looked at the kid, “Haha, āsif āsif little one. I just needed that laugh.”

The boy didn’t understand the point of the translation, but brushed it off easily. As Dale placed the glasses on top of his head, holding the side for a moment and reached into his bag again, Chantelle looked at the boys hand and gave a sad face.

“Aww what happened?” She asked kindly, gingerly holding Altair’s hand.

“He was playing outside with sticks and he got a nasty splinter.” Molly said softly to put the boy’s worries at ease.

Chantelle, being the always caring person, said “Aw, that’s no good. Here, lemme see it.”

CLACK!

Molly shifted her view to Dale who pulled back the sliding mechanism on a black pistol. His head was bent low while he emptied the mag out of the gun and placed it flat on the ground. Alex had dozed off during the previous conversation, his head lolled to one side and a line of droll came from the corner of his mouth.

The blonde teenager sat softly next to Dale, nearly knocking him over in the process. He stared at the hand gun for a moment, sometimes nodding to himself and touching the magazine on the ground. This confused Molly but didn’t question him. She watched him rifle in his backpack, pulling out dirty clothes, a black hard-cover packet, a bundle of glow-sticks, his IPhone, Another black hard-cover packet but with a white tag on the front that read ‘GUN-CLEANING-ACCESSORIES’, a large zip folder with the words ‘DALES-LAPPY-FUCK-OFF! :D’ and oddly, a small fox plush toy.

He stopped for a moment before pulling out countless boxes of ammunition. Carton after carton came out, some had ‘5.56 x20’ written on the top while others had ‘9mm x50’. So far, there were 10 boxes of 5.56 and 10 boxes of 9mm. He casted a glance to Molly and smirked devilishly. He slowly, like he’s teasing her, pulled out 6 extra boxes and split them into three. They all have a red cross on the top with tags in the middle. One set had ‘5.56 x20+INS’ and the other ‘9mm x20+INS.’

“For when everything goes F.U.B.A.R.” He said to her with an even voice. He reached to his chest rack and started to pull out the magazines and set them on the ground next to the Pistol. There were 5 empty magazines and 7 full. He suddenly got up and walked to a pile of boxes that had ‘ذخيرة’ written on the side at the far corner of the room. He opened the top and dug his hand in it, shuffling some stuff inside.

With a shout of ‘AHA!’ he pulled out 7 more small brown cardboard and walked back to Molly with a small smile. He plopped to the ground with an ‘Oof’ and set the four boxes on the ground. He looked at her again and asked, “Can ya give me a hand loading these?”

“Sure.” She replied, taking an empty magazine and two brown boxes. Popping the flaps at the side, she pulled out the Styrofoam holster with twenty rounds and one by one, fed them in the magazine in a zigzag formation.

“What kind of pistol is that?”

Dale cocked his head to the side and replied casually, “A Browning Hi power remember? I got it on the first day.”

“Oh, does that need loading?”

“Naa, theres six mags in the side pocket full.”

They fell into silence and continued loading. Alex was still in lala land and Mariah had vanished from the room, making Dale sigh in relief. He always hated being in the same room with her, more so when they are alone.

“So…” He scrunched his eyes hard again, “How you holdin’ up?”

“Like yesterday,” She chuckled, “Shit. I wish I could have a shower, I’m so dirty.”

He shook his head, “So am I, but you don’t see me complaining.”

“But you’re used to it.”

“How?”

“…You’re a boy and I’m a girl.”

There was silence between them.

“Wow,” Dale finished the mag and was on the next, “That’s so… Sexist. That’s like all black people like fried chicken.”

Molly dropped the half-finished mag and gave him an odd glare, “That’s racism you idiot.”

“Does it really matter? It’s the same thing.” He shrugged

After a few minutes later, Dale and Molly had the mags completed and back into his Chest Rack. Dale also packed his bag again while he asked Molly to grab his rifle from the chair next to an elderly woman. When she came back with the rifle and gave it to him, Mariah suddenly appeared with Teri and Abdul behind her while still talking. She had finished off her older smoke and had another one in her hand. She took a drag and puffed out a large cloud of smoke that drifted to Dale, Molly and Alex. Dale didn’t seem fazed by it and said, “Smoking kills Mariah.”

Mariah scoffed hotly and snapped, “Stuff it Dale, I don’t need you to tell me.”

“Whoa, where’d that come from?” He replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. How he loved to piss her off all the time. And he only said three words, a new record.

“Just… Shut the fuck up.” She growled. Teri looked at the two and sighed;

“Dale it’s best just not to talk to her.” Her thick British accent stood out from the Arabic and Australian language. But, knowing him, he will egg her on.

“What? She’s being pissy because of what? Running out of smokes? Not enough alcohol?”

“No, stop Dale. I don’t want another fight now, not in here.” Teri pinched her eyebrow.

“Hey, I just said three things and she becomes a T-Rex. So it’s not my fault Teri.” He counted defensibly.

“Oh fuck you Dale,” Mariah’s voice started to rise. Teri went to calm her down but she didn’t obliged, “Just fuck off ok? Fuck off!”

“Um how bout no!” Dale said, “Remember why me ‘nd Alex are here? You told us to come- No sorry, begged us to come a’ight? And if you haven’t noticed, we saved your worthless arse heaps of times. So, y’know, little recognition would be grand?”

“Well, you did a good job protecting Alex didn’t ya?” She smugly said, crossing her arms.

Now, everyone knew Dale had serious anger issues and how bad it can get in a short amount of time. But sometimes he takes it WAY to seriously and WAY out of context. So it was no surprise when Dale stood up fast and sped walked towards Mariah, anger painted on his face. Abdul also acted fast and stood in between just in time as Dale’s face was in Mariah’s. He was so close that his cap was touching her forehead. Teri took a few steps back and shook her head in disappointment.

“Hey hey hey easy my friend,” Abdul softly said as he placed his hand on Dales chest and Mariah’s shoulder, “She did not mean what she had said.”

“I don’t give a shit Abdul, this Dolboeb*3 needs to fucking die.”

“Hey,” She pointed at him from above Abdul’s head, a typical thing that she does, “You started this. This all could have been avoided but nooooo, you had to go and start your shit.”

“My shit?!” Dale roared back.

“She is right Sadeaky,” Dale was going to protest but Abdul beat him to it, “But Mariah, you knew he was just trying to joke. There was no need to say such words.”

“Yeah well, it sounded far from a joke.” She added and crossing her arms, “Y’know what, I had enough of your shit Dale. It’s the same shit every day. You’re s—”

BOOM!

The whole building shook wildly with a deafening bang. Bits of debris fell from the rocky ceiling onto the people below. All of a sudden, the outside world came to life with hails of bullets and rocket-propelled grenades. The Syrian Army had found the Resistance.

All the rebels up and ran outside or up the stairs to battle. The children and elderly screamed and scattered like bugs while Dale quickly grabbed his backpack and rifle and ran to a window along with a middle aged man. Molly, Teri, Chantelle and Molly ran to their backpacks (Molly grabbing Alex’s bag with the sniper rifle and his AK) and headed to the back room.

Meanwhile, Alex had awoken from the explosion and sat up quickly with a confused face. Everyone was running about and screaming loudly, which didn’t help his throbbing headache.

Another bang shook the building, sending more debris to the ground. One large piece unfortunately landed on Altair as he ran to the open door in the back, cracking his skull open and sending him to the ground. As soon as his body hit the ground, a whole chunk of ceiling fell on his chest downwards, spraying dark blood across the floor.

Alex shook his head and stood on his feet, although swayed for a moment before gaining his stance. His shoulder burnt with agony and he felt sick. But it was not the time to dwell on that.

Molly made her way to Alex but keeping low from the thunderous shots of the opposing forces guns. A random FSA fighter stood on the side of Molly in an effort to protect her. He shot wildly and loosely out the door into the darkness just to keep them undercover. Stupid move but effective in a way.

Alex met her halfway and quickly took his belongings, “Thanks Molly!”

“Are you going to be fine with that on?” She said with concern. He had clipped his chest rack on and placed his backpack on but only through one loop.

“Yeah she’ll be right mate.” He offhandedly said. Nodding, she turned to the brown buttoned shirt FSA soldier and asked him in Arabic ‘Where did Abdul go?’

He replied while pointing to the back room beyond the crushed child, “He went in there with the three women.”

Arabic screams came from the rooftop, “Tank! Tank! Army Tank!”

Dale, who slipped on rubble and fell on his arse, darted from the window as soon as he heard the warning from above. The soldier that was beside him crumbled backwards from a shot to the face, caving his whole facial appearances in his skull and exploding from behind. Some of the blood got onto his cheek and clothes that nearly made him vomit, but he pressed on with more haste. He jumped over the child that had one leg and eye but now had no jaw and his intestines were on the ground. Forcing every cry and death to the back of his head, he reached Alex, Molly and the FSA rebel.

“We gotta go, now!” He yelled, pushing Molly to the exit. Alex held the AK in his good arm and followed suit along with the FSA soldier. In the other room was as the rebel said; the other three teens and Abdul were running left and right packing items, ammo, explosives in large dark-green army backpacks that they acquired from various raids. So far, there were 10 prepacked bags from before the new firefight and 5 new bags, each looking around 10 kilos each.

Abdul had enough time to glance to his side to spot the other three plus one.

“I need you to grab two bags each and head to field behind this house, YALLAH!” Quickly, the three split and headed to their jobs. Alex, being injured, carried one more bag in his good hand, but he could not be able to shoot. Dale stacked one bag on the top of his bag and one on his chest. He removed two mags from his rack and shoved it in his front pockets just in case. Thankfully working as a carpenter, the weight of the bags was eased by a little bit. The FSA soldier easily grabbed both bags and did the same thing as Dale-

-Only to fall to the Earth by a stray bullet hitting the back of his neck, completely decapitating his head in a shower of gore. Even more blood coated Dale’s face but this time, he did vomit. The stink, the gore, the adrenaline became too much for his stomach and mind.

More bullets zipped past and one nearly hitting Dale in the head if it was 5cm to the right. He felt the hot air rush past and snapped back into action mode. Whipping his lips on the back of his hand and jogging past the dead rebel, he caught up with Abdul who was the last person in the room and he too had two bags plus his AUG.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He said to Dale, “Allahu Ackbah.”

Dale looked at him oddly before remembering the dead soldier, “Na don’t worry mate, didn’t know the bloke.”

“But still, we are all brothers and sisters,” He patted him on his shoulder and pushed him out the door, “And we will be to the end.”

The darkness clouded the whole field and the cold made their hairs stand on end. The two soldiers ran to the edge of the bushes with other rebels that were fleeing from the hospital, although Dale lagged behind from the heavy load. He nearly toppled over a dead body, but didn’t know if it was a juvenile or a soldier. The gunfight is still hot, and Dale could just hear the tanks engine roaring and the tracks crushing stone underneath it behind the houses.

They eventually made it to the edge of the bush, but it was extremely hard to find out who’s who. Their mates could be anywhere. They either could have gone left or right, or even deeper. To make matters worse, there was a whole line of FSA rebels facing the house. Pretty much, it’s a needle in a haystack.

“What the hell are in these bags?” Dale grunted as he shifted the bags weight plus falling to a knee, the rifle as support.

“Supplies.” Was all Abdul said to him, pulling up a random soldier and talking to him in Arabic. Dale tried to regain his breath although it was easier said than done. The weight of whatever the fuck is in the bags made it tough for him to gain a large gulp of air.

He watched the two Syrians talking to each other frantically. If only he knew Arabic he wold understand, but he could only learn the little phrases (Apart the Assassins Creed part).

The two Syrians parted both ways; the random going to the fight while Abdul going to Dale with a relieved face.

“He said that our friends are with Amar and Faiz, they are deeper in the bush.” With that, they advanced to the rest. A sudden explosion caught them off guard. A few meters to the right, a cloud of fire and shrapnel flashed across the field, lighting up the bush for a split second. Two Free Syrian Soldiers were caught by the deadly explosive and were shredded and thrown in all directions. Dale and Abdul fell to their knees from the force of the eruption. It was a struggle for Dale to stand and get back into running but for Abdul, it was a piece of cake.

Placing his hand under Dale’s armpit, he pulled him up with ease and shouted, “Yallah!” over and over again. Gaining foot they both sprinted forth in the bush, passing rebels who had their rifles up and bodies crouched, waiting for the enemy. They were also chanting loudly in Arabic, but the only thing Dale could really understand was ‘Allahu Ackbah’.

“There they are!” A feminie distant voice shouted over the noise. The chants got louder and wilder as well as their firing. Keeping low (to the point that nearly sent Dale arse overhead) from the firefight, the blue sweater shirt man and the dark shirt teenager finally reached the rest of the group.

The four girls wore their bags the same as Dale and so did the Rebels. One had to be the same age as Abdul and height. He looked like the Arab stereotype; Short black hair and a growing beard.  He wore a leather jacket, red t-shirt, green camo pants and a military helmet. Like any other rebel, he had a chest rack and a FN FAL that had a sniper rifle’s scope.

Next to Molly was the other rebel who looked like a 16 year old with short black hair; he wore a blue shirt that had a ‘Nike’ Tick, blue jeans plus knee pads and elbow pads. Completing his appearance was the chest rack and an ordinary AK47.

Alex was first to speak, “Took ya time.”

“Fuck you.” Dale said seriously, looking over his shoulder back at the houses.

“Now is not the time,” Abdul butted, “Chantelle, Molly, Teri, Mariah. There is a building deeper in the bush, I have told the sick and injured to go there. Get there and we will hold off these dogs.”

“What does that mean for Black?” Dale asked, nodding to his best friend..

“He goes too.”

He scoffed, “Without me? Sorry Abdul, but we stick together mate. He goes, I go yeah?”

Abdul stood in silence for a moment, staring at Dale with unblinking eyes, “You won’t get far without assistance,” His focus went to the Arabs, “You direct them to safe house.”

“Na’am Sayyid.” They both said.

“Why can’t you come with us Abdul?” Teri asked.

“I must be in the fight, for Allah has praised me to guide the resistance to victory. I cannot abandon my people, but…

Hassalan,” Abdul looked at the six foreigners, “My friends, like before, this might be the last time we meet. Nevertheless, Bismillah ir Rahman el Raheem, jazakulla and salamu alaykum.”

“Salamu Alaykum.” They replied, the girls giving him kisses on his cheek and the boys shook his hand. And like that, he ran off into the fray.

-Ten minutes later-

Something wasn’t right. Everyone could feel it in their bones. A few minutes ago, the firefight with the F.S.A and the S.A.A stopped abruptly. There was no shouts, no distant explosions, no guns loading, nothing at all.

It was there, then snap! Gone.

Not even the echoes of anything. It’s as if there was no war, no gunshots, and no death behind them. And it didn’t help when the two rebels disappeared from the front of the group. They were there, then like magic; disappeared.

There was something erroneous with the surrounding area too. The shrub and desert trees thickened to like forestry trees and grew, the air becoming moister as well as the ground; not the most common things in Syria.  Things became stranger as patches of green foliage started to appear on the dirt along with the sounds of crickets, bugs, and birds. Just like the rainforests in Queensland. And to everyone’s extent; there are no rainforests near Aleppo.

At the front of the group was Dale who held his gun awkwardly in front of his body thanks to the bag. Behind were Chantelle, then Mariah, Alex, Molly and lastly Teri. Walking in a single formation, the teens tugged through the confusing forest.

“Uh Teri, does Syria have a forest?” Dale asked while turning his head to the tanned teenager with wide eyes.

“Umm,” She pondered for a moment, “No, not that I can think of.”

“Then…” Alex said confusedly and kicked a sprouting green bush, “What the fuck is this?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t like it.” She said after adjusting her backpacks. There were still no shots nor yells from behind them, only the chirps of crickets and hoots of owls.

“Oi oi oi, did it just get colder?” Alex said. Everyone looked at him with odd faces until a slow breeze flew from the front. The cold rush of air was more intense then the desert cold. Dale shivered and held his gun tighter.

“Ah bugger this, let’s head back…” He turned around to only see Chantelle run to the left.

“Look, there’s the safehouse!” Turning, he scanned the so-called ‘Safehouse’ beyond the tree line. How he missed it? He didn’t know.

It was a partially destroyed large castle on the edge of a cliff, slightly bigger than the ones they had previously seen around Syria. Large gaping holes on the roof, almost to the point that there was no roof. There was a plain wooden door at the front; typical Castles. But it was missing key things to call it a ‘Safehouse’.

One, there were no guards at the front. Two, there’s no flags to indicate it’s under the F.S.A control. And three, it looks like it’s been deserted for years. And plus, there was no cover from mortars or missile attacks.

So Dale voiced his opinion, “Uh Chantelle, I don’t think that’s the Safe-y.”

“Abdul said that the house was in the bush, so it must be it.” Molly said, walking past him.

“Or did you forget about what he had said?” Mariah followed suit as did Teri.

There, standing awkwardly in the forest/bush was one combatant and one crippled teen. They looked at one other.

“5 bucks that the Manda gets eaten.” Alex said.

“Make it 10 and you got a deal.” Dale replied with an uneasy grin before the pair started to walk slowly to the wooden doors.

“How’s ya arm?” He asked.

“Hurts like fuck. And I’m starting to get crook lad, so it’s not good at all.”

“Hang on, we will get to a hospital.”

“I know I know, but these bags man…” Dale took upon himself and took Alex’s bag from his hand. He slipped the two loops up his left arm. His friend didn’t take that lightly and tried to get it back. Keyword ‘tried’.

“Oi suka* give it back!” He yelled. His friend only laughed while running off to the house.

“Bastard!” As fast as he could, Alex charged after Dale with a fake raged face. When his friend got to the the wooden doors, he stopped and clutched his shoulder. More blood leaked from his wound and it started to burn again. Taking a deep breath, he met up with Dale at the door and looked at him.

"You think its a good idea to hold up in this place?" Alex asked, watching Dale as he opened the door fully.

"No." And he walked in. The room, which pissed Dale off, was empty. There were no soldiers running about, no medical staff, no nothing. There was only a large podium with six sprouting appendages in the very middle, a room with only half of a wooden door at the very back and the girls. Said girls were standing around the podium with a look of confusion.

"I don't understand," Teri spoke out loud, her voice echoed the room. "Where are the rebels?"

"Oh for fuck sak-- I told you this isn't the place. I fucking told you." Dale yelled, turning back and started to walk to the door. "Come on we're leaving!" He got to it and then stopped abruptly. This scared everyone; when he does that, something is about to happen. His whole body was stiff and the rifle was held to the side, tightly clutched. He silently closed the door and said,

"Someone's coming." He whispered before pointing to the room at the back and pushing Alex to it, "Hide hide!" Everyone ran to the room but tried to be quiet as well. When Dale entered the room, he silently closed it and for measure, held it back with his body. Quickly, he rid of all the bags on his back plus his own and placed them in the corner, expecting a firefight.

Everyone was silent. No one dared to speak, breath or even blink. It was so quiet that Chantelle even heard her own heartbeat or it could have been Molly who was next to her. She strained her hearing to pick up any noises or Arabic. So far, there were none. But Dale never jokes or is never wrong when he hears things. So there must be someone, or something, outside.

"What did you hear?" She asked to be only hushed by Dale as he slowly poked his head up to look outside.

"I heard someone talking," He said so soft that it could be passed as a breeze.

"Who?"

"I don't know, but it's not our friends."

CLLLACK

The door outside creaked open, plus stopping everyone's hearts in the process. Dale ducked back down from the sudden noise, sweat dripping from his face onto his gun. He slowly pulled back the bolt quietly and guide it back into place, trying to make no noise in the progress. The bullet that was in the camber flew out and landed in between Molly's breasts. She looked at it and gave a inaudible laugh before pulling it out and shoving it into her pocket.

"I thought I heard somepony?" A feminine voice echoed the room suddenly. Dale almost let of a burst of bullets from the sound but he did bite his hand from shouting anything out. He looked at the girls with a glares, wanting to know who said that. They shook their heads and pointed to the door. Nodding his head, he removed his hand form his mouth and back on the fore-grip of the rifle.

"Woooah!" Came another voice, slightly deeper but female. Gulping, Dale slowly raised his body to look outside and his rifle clutched in his hands. His hands shook from adrenaline and fear, the main elements before fighting. But what he saw; was nothing he had ever seen in his lifetime.

Six... Creatures stood at the front of the podium, forming a single line across. They resembled Shetland Ponies in the outback but their skin was not the typical brown or white but a whole mixture of colours. For example; the one on the far right was butter yellow with pink hair and tail, on it's left was pale white with purple hair and tail, next is purple with matching hair and a pink streak plus tail, one had a sky blue with the colours of the rainbow as hair and tail, a eye hurting pink one with matching fluffy hair and the last one was orange with blonde hair and a farmer hat.

Focusing at their faces to gain identification, he found something odd about two -no-  fourof the creatures. The purple and pure white creatures had horns on their foreheads while the blue and yellow had wings on their backs. And there was something on their hind legs as well. It was too hard to see the images from where Dale is, but he shook his head and collected more info. He noticed mud on their legs and small cuts and bruises on their bodies.

He scoffed; That was a rare sight around Aleppo. Pulling his head down and shakily letting out a sigh, he signaled them to wait for a moment. But Mariah had other plans.

She mouthed, "Go out there and ask for help..."

"Get fucked, stay here." He counted with a finger pointed to the ground.

"No,y'know what, fuck you I'm going." She whispered loudly as she started to raise from the ground. Before she could get to a knee, Chantelle and Alex grabbed her and dragged her back down and covering her mouth with their hands. Quickly, Dale poked his head up to see if they heard or saw anything. Luckily for them, they didn't. The odd creatures bickered to one another, but he couldn't make out what they're saying at all.

He let out another shaky sigh and stared holes at Mariah. Her stupidity was unbelievable! She almost gave away their position to the creatures, for all they know; they were savages or man-eaters.

He was about to send a angry mouthed sentence, but something cut him off. For the second time of the day, he nearly squeezed the trigger out of fright.

"SO YOU FINALLY CAME!"