UB Chapter 3

The scent of metal filled the air, not only of brass and copper, but also blood. The crackle of distant gunfire blended with the sharp ring of steel against steel, a chaotic symphony of death. I crouched low, my fingers tight around the hilt of my knife, every muscle in my body primed for whatever came next.

I looked around me, the rest of my squad positioned in the shadows, their eyes steely and focused, barely moving as they waited for the signal. We were around a corner from a union formation, our plan was to take them from the flank as our allies hit them dead on. Shots rang out shortly, acting as a signal the fight had begun, our leader, Finn Calloway, waited patiently with his fist in the air. Within 2 minutes his fist had dropped and we rushed in. The northerners were positioned in the street, us in the darkness of an alley.

The streets erupted into chaos as we entered the scene. My blade met resistance from a soldier about my age. I felt bad for the young man, but after all, they were attacking us. The northern false flag operation caused all this mess. A mass shooter waving the rebel flags of old shot 30 students, and the northern government sent in the military in a supposed crackdown on “their ideology.” The northern soldiers stormed in and imprisoned a large number of the populace. Now tanks roam our streets and drones roam the skies.

After a small battle we’d won. We imprisoned the remaining Yankees and prepared them for transport further south. “Well done team. Take a couple hours off. We begin scouting and defense rotations for the next week. Meet at Five Guys at 7.”

All the soldiers began to disperse, and most went for the showers, but I began looking for Lily. She had been my closest friend during all the combat, but she had been assigned a different mission today.

I checked out our loading bays at the college, University of Tennesee. We based alot of our operations out of the school, as it had plenty of room for us to work and load up. It reminded me of Kentucky, and what little time Hunter, Zane, and I spent there. God i missed them.

I spoke with one of the loading officers, not of any particular rank. We in the south werent as structured as up north.

“Taylor, status on Delta?”

“Nothing to report, they have not returned yet.” My pulse quickened.

“Has this been reported?”

“Yes ma’am.” He replied. “Just 10 minutes ago to general Calloway”

“Thank you sir.” I said and ran off to find Calloway. He usually spent his time off in the university, he was a younger man so he was taking courses while in military to better his education.

I found him in an abandoned office, talking with other men. “General Calloway. What is the status on delta?”

“They haven’t reported and haven't communicated at all. I was about to gather you, Diaz, and Marlow.”

“Yes sir. I recall they were north of the university.”

“Yes Ma'am. Get kitted and meet me here in 20 minutes.”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright listen up. The last reports from Delta were in the Black Oak Plaza. That isn't terribly far from here, but we believe there was an ambush or something of the like, similar to what we had here. It is believed that the North is sending small waves of soldiers down here.”

“What is our route of entry?” David Marlow asked. I had the same question. Depending on what happened a helicopter was a dreadful idea, and it was too far to walk, and the roads were disturbed by blockades.

“Hummer a mile out, bikes after.” Calloway replied, Maya Diaz grinned. She loved the dirt bikes we used, which we’d outfitted to be able to use and start up very fast, and removed all limiters on them. Those suckers were both affordable and fast.

“Nice.” Diaz replied.

“Agreed.” I smiled.

“You leave in 10 minutes. Load up a hummer. Godspeed.” Calloway walked away.

One thing i very much liked about our southern military was its adaptability. The north kept to the rigid structure of old, but it was slow. Now not to say people didn’t act on their own, many did constantly. Which often led to even more chaos. But our structure allowed us to do large scale attacks on a whim.

Marlow, Diaz, and I gathered what we needed from the supply depot. I grabbed an SBR, My knife was already sharp, but I made sure to grab a sidearm and extra ammo. Diaz strapped her rifle across her back and slung a pistol at her hip, while Marlow checked over the map Calloway had handed him, muttering to himself about potential choke points and ambush spots.

“Think they’re alive?” Diaz asked, her tone casual, but the worry in her eyes betrayed her.

“They have to be,” I said firmly. “Lily’s smart. If anyone could keep Delta together, it’s her.”

Marlow chimed in, his voice quieter. “Let’s just hope we’re not too late.”

The hummer rumbled as we set off, the engine’s low growl blending with the distant hum of drones. Marlow drove, his knuckles white on the wheel as he navigated the broken interstate and debris-strewn streets. Diaz and I sat in the back, our gear rattling with each bump.

The city felt eerie. Abandoned cars lined the streets, and shattered windows gaped like empty eyes. Graffiti covered the walls, some of it rallying cries for the South, others desperate pleas for peace.

“Black Oak Plaza’s coming up,” Marlow said, breaking the silence.

Diaz grinned. “About time. I hate sitting still.”

We ditched the Hummer at Foley and 441, we unloaded the dirt bikes quickly and quietly. Diaz revved her engine just enough to hear the satisfying purr, while I adjusted my grip on the handlebars. Black Oak Plaza used to be a massive shopping center, there were always people around, shopping, chatting and enjoying each other’s company. But now it was a husk. Crumbling, nobody to be found, sitting to rot. The bridges it had over 441 to cross without lights were still in good shape, but the design of the place was bad for mobility. Always a corner somewhere, many places to ambush.

We set our bikes in the underpass and each got out a drone. Luckily, there was a billionaire, richest in the world, funding the war. He made drones very affordable in recent years, and spent a good chunk of his wealth making millions of drones and other arms for the southern military.

We each took a different part of the plaza, scanning for anything of note. My drone went to the north west, and I started seeing signs of conflict. As I navigated closer to the ground, I spotted crimson streaks smeared across the pavement—blood, leading in a haphazard trail toward a blind corner. A broken rifle lay discarded in the middle of the street, its barrel bent at an awkward angle. The thermal sensors picked up a faint warmth still clinging to the metal. This had happened recently.

I shifted the drone’s focus upward, scanning the bridges that spanned over the plaza. They were riddled with bullet holes, their concrete facades scarred by battle. As I panned the camera, a flicker of movement caught my eye. A heat signature darted into the shadows of an alley to the northwest, gone before I could make out any details.

“Movement, North-west corner near Nelly’s Cafe.”

I accelerated and swung the drone into the alley, turning on it’s night vision.

“Just a cat.” I sighed with relief.

I moved over to the north-east, and began seeing signs of struggle. On the Havk 3 drone, the ones we use for surveillance, and one of the cheaper kinds of drone, Heat is overlaid on the normal screen, in green. I was seeing lots of pale green streaks on the ground. Bodies littered around the shoe store, both Northern and Southern.

“Got signs of struggle in the north-east.” Diaz said.

“I’m there too.” Marlow said.

“Same. Bodies everywhere, fresh blood as well.”

All three of us surveyed the carnage, broken glass of an abandoned storefront, dirt and debris that had gathered over time. And loads of Southern bodies.

I flew near an alley and got shot down. “Downed, alley next to department store.”

“Standing by.” Diaz stated. “I can hear voices, they don't sound all rough and tumble. I’ll sync the audio to your earpieces.”

“Those Yankee sons of bitches are now coming at us with drones? Fucking hell are we gonna do.” One voice said.

Another perked up, a female. “Take out all their fucking drones is what.”

Lily.

“We need to extract them. It sounds like they’ve been through hell.”

“Agreed,” said Diaz and Marlow.

They set their drones to scan around and be quiet. The things were excellent hands-free surveillance. We drove off, it took maybe 10 minutes to navigate there. We stormed the pavilion with guns blazing. “Sergeant Lily.” I called, shoulder to the wall, not visible in the alley. “This is Jade.”

“Oh thank fuck.” She returned. Her and 2 of her crew stepped out of the alley. Their uniforms were in tatters, and blood was everywhere.

“Shot my drone you asshole.” I smiled.

“Fuck that drone i wasn't taking any chances.” She grinned.

We heard several shots ring out from our right, and another skirmish began.