Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #22 January 2016 | Page 49

third platoon on the rooftops. The port gunner had
climbed down into the hull and was acting as loader,
transferring belts of bullets from his turret across to
feed the almost overheating maxim that was still in
action.

outbuilding in the fort to make sure every single
corpse was found. Several had wandered into
buildings and not come out until they heard soldiers
close by, so great care was being taken.
The ramp was still blocked by the
quartermasters’ wagons, a detachment of the
quartermasters’ men were carrying crates of fresh
rounds up to the gatehouse by hand, and a small unit
of naval men had been summoned to see to the land
frigates track and to reload its weapons.

Both halves of First Platoon were firing at
the remaining corpses from the ends of the street; the
remains of Third Platoon were firing down from the
roof tops.
Lieutenant Fowler was using a rifle taken
from one of the wounded soldiers, having long since
exhausted his revolver rounds. His platoon had only
three wounded; they all sat at the back of the flat roof
tops away from the fighting. All had multiple bites
to the arms and leg