Chapter 30 - Hail of Iron

There were screaming. Men and women who were outside the stronghold screech in terror as the balls of iron drop down them. The craters formed from each drop were about five foot wide. The explosion that the bombs carried made those who were turned into a confetti of blood and gore.

The men and women returned fire. The soldiers down the front part of the stronghold tried to fight back. But the iron bombs dropped upon them smashed their machines. There were shouting down the streets. Many men and women scattered as they took cover.

If one would look far from the city. They would see the city being rained down by the hail of iron coming from the flying ships. It was like rain. It was like hail. But instead of water or snow, what rained upon them were bombs that made everything seemed hopeless.

The rain of bombs made everyone deaf. The constant booms from every corner made anyone who had courage cover their ears. A soldier could be seen pointing his rifle up. His ears were bleeding as he helplessly shoots the flying ships without any hope of hitting one.

The ballistae and the cannon group tried to take aim. But the defensive structure they were in got blasted away. A soldier carried his arm while picking up his fingers. A woman, with long braided hair, crawled while having tears in her eyes. The smell of gunpowder and blood made the hail of bombs even worse. Fighting? No, it was a one-sided barrage of bombs. The people inside the stronghold could not even move from their position. Everyone was glued to where they are. No one tried to move at the fear of being hit by those bombs.

The time seemed slow for everyone. The hail of bombs didn’t even last for a minute but many have died already. Some even tried to flee but they were stopped by a crate exploding at them. The poor man’s grenade that was put away spilled and those who tripped on them got their face burned as wax stick on their faces. The petrol caught fire and it made many fell to the fire that they were supposed to throw at the enemy above them.

A young man hid under a well. The well was safe for a good five seconds before one of the bombs went inside and killed the young man. The young man wasn’t able to scream at all. His head flew up, burned, charred and unrecognizable.

There was a building on the market that houses a stubborn merchant. The merchant didn’t want to abandon his gold. But now he wished that he did. The left part of his body was torn away. The alcohol he drank a while ago made him stay alive for a good thirty seconds before having his innards hit by an iron ball that didn’t explode.

There were outposts stationed outside the City. They saw the attack and hail of bombs. The terror they felt and constant booming made them run away. Some of the loyal ones open fired at the balloons only to see the cannonball they launched dropped down not even reaching the skies.

A ballistae man had his leg broken when a piece of tile flew at his knee. The man’s face was dyed in blood. But there was this crazy look on him as he rushes at the ballistae and aimed one of the warships flying above. He pulled the lever. The ballistae’s arrow flew up and like a spear of salvation. The ballistae spear hit the balloon of the warship. The warship lost balance. It got off-sided as it tilted to the right, dropping the crew down who did not expect the spear to reach them.

The man who took the shot made a smile. He dropped down, his back sliding down as the floor he was standing on got covered with blood. The man lost all light on his eyes. But that didn’t mean that he did nothing worth. What he did was followed by others who saw the balloon go down. There was hope to found. The flying machines can be brought down!

These thoughts scattered around. Like a domino falling into another domino. It caused a chain reaction of brave men fighting back, not caring for their dear life. The flying ships got shot down. But there hundreds of them in the sky, it may seem insignificant but the brave men and women who aimed and hit the balloons gave some few breathing rooms. The soldiers rallied their comrades as fierce look on their eyes made them move their legs.

Some pulled the reserve ballistae. Some brought the cannons and instead of putting cannonballs in them, they put spears and launch them. It was an improvised way, but these allowed them to hit some balloons and fell them down. Some soldiers got used to the sounds of bombs. They moved and crawled, they maneuvered as they began to see patterns on which way to run and duck and cover.

The ten minute barrage was devastating. But as survival instincts kicked in and the soldier’s adrenaline pumped, they began to act like cornered animals. If they die then they rather die fighting. The heads of the soldiers were filled with that as they rely on their own luck. But fortune favours the bold, and these bold woke from their nightmare.

In a room where most of the furniture’s are broken, the windows shattered, and the ceiling pierced. A man armed to the teeth took cover under the bed. His eyes were dulled in fear. His breeches wet with pee. His hand was shaking but his heart was focused on one thing. He had a goal. He waited for the hail of bombs to stop. But the bombs didn’t stop falling. He became worried, he became anxious.

A bomb dropped above where he was hiding. He saw words float in front of him as he rolled out of the bed, sprinted to the shattered window and jumped down recklessly. He landed on this pile of bush, his body got lashed but he was able to land despite his shaking legs.

Joshua stood up. He started to his feet as he runs inside the door and took cover. He held his rifle near his forehead. He prayed to his God as he tries to calm himself down. He had to wait. He had to wait for the bastards to parachute down before he can unleash what he created. He could smell the mustard-like smell. So he knows it wasn’t broken yet. He knows that hope was still on his saddlebag.