General Anhalt rode the length of the line, waving his glowing saber, his voice booming out to the front ranks. “Equatorians! Today! In this place! We begin the liberation of humanity! Grenoble will be free! And soon the entire world will be free! Because of what you do today, your children will know vampires only in ghost stories told around campfires! But you know the truth. You know these animals can die. And they will die! Today! By your hand! By the hand of Equatoria! You are human! This land is your heritage! The first strike belonged to them, but the final blow will be ours!” He stood in the stirrups, pointing his saber in the direction of the vampire city. “Kill! Them! All!”
The men bellowed as one, deafening all else, their blood burning hot with defiance and resolve. Rifles were shaken overhead and swords were struck against mail shirts, raising a raucous din.
The swarm of vampires twitched, and suddenly shifted toward the human army like a flock of birds, all wheeling as one in the sky.
“Fire!” came Anhalt’s hoarse cry.
Three regiments simultaneously fired; nearly two thousand rifle muzzles flamed. The gunsmoke formed a thick barrier before the wind carried it swiftly away. The front rank of vampires were sent tumbling backward as bullets ripped into the black mass.
With a loud rumble, rockets flamed from short-barreled turrets atop the shoulders of the Galahads. They sped into the sky, exploding in the midst of the vampires, shredding them with shrapnel.
“Forward!” Anhalt screamed through the chaos.
The lead Galahad began to lumber on toward its objective. The other metal men spurted steam and ground to life. The iron forms crushed through the snow, blazing a trail toward the city as hundreds of vampires dove at them. One of the Galahads lifted its arm, and whirring gears raised multiple copper tubes from the forearm casing. With a snap and a spark, massive flames burst forth, enveloping the vampires. The creatures fell back screaming, their clothing and hair and flesh ignited. They careened into each other, and plummeted smoldering to the ground.
Four spearhead tanks let loose a salvo of rockets at the city walls. Red streaks flashed over white earth until they impacted on ancient stone unprepared for modern explosives and erupted in fire and wreckage. Through the smoke it was clear the wall was shattered. A second round of rockets obliterated it, creating a gap of nearly one hundred yards. The walking giants drove on, unstoppable objects plowing through snow and bone.
The Galahads attracted the attention of the greatest part of the defending packs. Vampires collected in the air over the metal men, diving and striking, then rising. Others scrambled on the frozen ground, like dogs attacking a bear, even climbing onto the iron frames. Many of those vampires met with steel limbs given unbelievable strength by rapidly firing pistons and ratcheting gears.
The infantry squares fought hard to keep up with the tanks, even as countless vampires dove among them. Pikes swept the air, attempting to block the drifting creatures from getting within deadly arm’s length. Gunfire blasted the vampires, but killing shots were rare. The monsters took bullet after bullet, and still knocked the pike blades aside, striking soldiers from above or settling to their feet and leaping like leopards among the soldiers. Once several creatures penetrated the outer edges of the square, men panicked and fired among their own ranks, or swung swords wildly, as likely to strike their comrades as the vampires. Still, sheer firepower allowed the humans to hold off the mass of the enemy, and struggle forward amidst smoke and blood and screams.
Anhalt glimpsed the sight he was expecting but dreading. The first Galahad had just reached the smoking wreckage that had been the wall, and it stopped dead in its tracks, billowing white smoke. Its chemical fuel was spent. Vampires fell upon the motionless heap, toppling it, trying to get at the human trapped inside the heavy steel container. Then one by one, the lumbering tanks shuddered and halted on the field of battle, leaving a desolate field of frozen statues among the dead and fighting.
“With me! Make for the city!” Anhalt yelled, spurring his horse ahead of his men, leaping over one of the motionless Galahads lying on the blood-soaked ground. For a brief second, Anhalt locked gazes with the horror-struck Katangan trapped inside. Then he was past, galloping to Grenoble. Troops rallied with him, surging forward with their commander, screaming victoriously as they clambered over the rubble and entered the enemy city for the first time.
Vampires were waiting for them.
Anhalt didn’t stop. His mare bowled into them. She neighed sharply in pain but obeyed her rider’s commands. The general cleared a path for those coming behind. Time slowed and everything around him was as if stuck in a mire. Only he was moving. He howled a battle cry and jabbed forward, twisting and cutting at every fanged shape with his Fahrenheit saber, whose chemical coating burned. Pain actually registered in the wide eyes of the vampires who drew back. Anhalt had no idea if he was alone or surrounded by his men, but he would not stop. He only knew he had to push the line. Kill vampires.