The Strange Tale Of Ezekiel Henderson

"Kitchen, clear!", PFC Jenkins' voice rang out as he swept the last room in the small house.

"Alright, next house. After it we're done for the day, ladies and gents", Sgt Holmes barked.

3rd Marine Expeditionary Force, 3rd Marine Division, 4th Marine Regiment, 2nd Battalion, Charlie Company, 2nd Platoon, 3rd Squad, Fireteam Bravo. 12 Marines, 7 men and 5 women. All battle hardened soldiers. Each covered head to toe in the most advanced armor known to man, the product of nearly 3 centuries of well funded research. The suits looked like something out of a video game, gray ceramic plates with a black undersuit. Full helmets covered their faces, and each had customized their suits to meet their needs.

They were assigned to sweep the lower half of Naradi, a small backwater in Iraq. They walked back out in the street, trash and burned out, rusted cars littered the area. They moved quickly and silently to the next building, swept it with trained efficiency; it was clear. The marines started setting up camp for the night in the house.

"Damn,", Pvt Pokev complained, "this freakin sand gets everywhere." As he dusted some granules from his removed helmet.

"Stow the BS, Pokev, we all hate the sand.", rebuked Cpl Berdaki, as she cleaned her helmet's optics.

"Just be glad we ain't usin the mark 2's anymore. Damn, talk about sand collector.", Jenkins piped up from across the room, referring to the previous armor's tendency to trap sand in all the joints.

Pvt Fuller held up his canteen, "Hey! Don't be knocking Berdaki's pass times!", a possum grin spread across his face. Everyone laughed, save Berdaki.

The marines bickered, bitched, joked, and quipped for a while before deciding to kill the lantern and grap some Zs.

BOOM    An explosion rocked the marine's "camp". Instinct took over as they geared back up within 30 seconds, more explosions sounded outside.

"Where the hell are they coming from?", Pokev shouted above the roar.

"SHUT UP AND KEEP FIRING!", Berdaki yelled at him. She leaned out the window and fired at the rebel soldiers who had begun pouring in to their block from all directions.

After the first salvo of artillery, none of which had hit the marine's position, rebels had started flooding from the alleys, appearing on roof tops, even showing up in an old Mi-17 helicopter.

"We're gonna get wasted in these thin walls!", yelled the Sarge, "Out the back!"

All of the soldiers complied. A large wall prevented their adversaries from reaching the blocks to the south-east of the marine's position, so that's where they ran.

"GPS says there's some old ruins a half a click to the south!", yelled LCpl Henderson, the fireteam's sniper/scout. "Thick stone walls, better cover, we can hold there til morning if we pick our shots."

The marines moved methodically through the town and across a small stretch of open ground. Their enemies pursuing them the whole way.

"There it is!", shouted Pokev, just before an AK-314 round struck his knee, he stumbled, then got up and kept jogging, thanks to his armor.

The marines reached the ruins, found suitable cover, and began returning fire. Enemies were falling, they had advanced armor and weapons as well, but were uncoordinated. They out numbered the marines by a large factor, but the the leather-necks were better trained. Thanks to their weapons, which utilized ionized gas instead of lead and brass, they needn't worry about ammo. The enemies weapons worked the same way, however, so the scales were balanced for the most part.

Henderson noticed a familiar silhouette on a rooftop. "RPG, GET DOWN!", he yelled.

WHOOSH    The rocket streaked forward, slamming into one of the stone obelisks in the center of the ruins, which cracked and toppled. Then the ground began to crack.

"What the fuck?", Pokev jumped away from a fissure that appeared under his crouched form.

"EVERYONE MOVE! ITS GOIN IN ON ITSELF!", Berdaki yelled, herself leaping away from the large cracks.

Henderson made it to another large stone, resting on sold ground. He watched his squadmates do the same, save Pvt McKay, who tripped in a fissure.

"McKay!", he yelled as he bolted forward.

The crack behind her was getting bigger, the edges starting to fall in.

Henderson slid to a stop in front of McKay, grabbed her combat harness, and heaved her to safety. Thanks to Newton's Third Law, his feet slipped back, into the fissure. He grabbed the edge, only to feel it snap off in his fingers. He fell. He twisted mid air to at least see the end of the fall that would undoubtedly kill him. What he saw shocked him, a hundered meters below was a swirling blue vortex. Iridescent, it cast faint blue light on the walls of the chasm it sat in. In he went.