Also brought up were fifteen long wooden poles that each held a slender warhead. The warheads were rocket-shaped and contained black powder for propulsion and a generous amount of combustible oil. They had a range of about two miles, were notoriously inaccurate, and the men handled them gingerly because they also tended to explode prematurely.
The Fourth Battery resumed its barrage, lobbing the new shells high to explode over the battlefield; but instead of vicious metal fragments, they spewed a yellow fog that hovered like a gaseous blanket. The wind was light, so the gas cloud remained relatively steady over many square miles between the Equatorian lines and Grenoble.
The vampires didn't seem to care as they darted in and out of it, unafraid, laughing almost.
Anhalt nodded and Mobius commanded, “Fire rockets!”
The artillerymen standing beside each of the slender poles applied fire to the ends and the rockets began to sputter. Tails wiggled for a couple of seconds, and then they darted along the length of the poles and up into the sky.
The first rocket flared too high and exploded in a dazzling display of red flame, but none of the sparks made it to the slowly drifting gas. Another rocket went wild and slammed back onto the bleak field tumbling this way and that, propelled forward along the ground in a frenzied dash toward an unknown target. Luckily, it didn't swing back toward the trenches. Finally a third rocket hit nearer the mark, just short of the cloud, but flame caught the edge of the yellow haze. The atmosphere ignited with a loud whoosh. The flames billowed out and over the vampires floating near the cloud. Anhalt watched as the shroud of fire roared above the field. Waves of heat washed over the soldiers, fanning cheeks and exposed skin, making them red and prickly.
At least a hundred vampires were caught in the firestorm. Their screams echoed in the howl of the flames. They writhed and dropped from the sky like charred bits of smoldering ash.
Soldiers cheered.
Abruptly the wind altered, bringing a rush of ice crystals down the side of the looming mountain to their right. The flaming gas cloud shifted and began to descend toward the Equatorian lines with a sickening lurch.
“Take cover! Take cover!” Anhalt shouted as he ran toward a bunker.
Gunners ran for covered trenches. Soldiers in open holes and ditches, far away from protective warrens, drew fire-retardant tarpaulins over their heads or simply pressed face-first into the frozen mud, praying that they'd survive without burning or suffocating.
Anhalt stopped at the door to the bunker, guiding soldier after soldier ahead of himself. The looming wall of heat sucked the very air away. Anhalt listed dizzily as he waved a stumbling straggler past. He ignored shouts, spying another band of soldiers running madly toward him. He knew they weren't going to make it, but still he urged them on. The sky grew red. He could smell his own hair burning. Just before the flames fell, he was yanked inside and the steel door slammed shut before him. A roar boomed and the door rattled with such force that screws and hinges shook loose. Vibrant heat filled the underground narrows.
The man gripping Anhalt's arm stumbled to one knee, so the commander pulled the man deeper into the damp tunnel.
“What do you think you were doing, man?” said Anhalt, leaning the cowled figure back against the dirt wall.
“I will ask you the same question,” was the unsteady reply from Greyfriar, who lifted a shaking hand to his mask to ensure it was still in place.
“The wind shifted. I had to get my men under cover.” Anhalt shook his head angrily. “I left some of them behind.”
Greyfriar straightened, feeling his strength flood back into his limbs as the heat abated. “You should have entered first. You are the war chief.”
“I am no more important than anyone else here.”
“Adele would disagree. She told me to look out for you.”
Anhalt gave a smile. “Funny. I've been charged with the same thing. With you.”
“Then we both have our work cut out for us.” Greyfriar glanced back toward the steel doors, which glowed red around the edges.
“Damn infernal weapon,” Anhalt muttered. “We caught them unaware, but we'll be lucky if they fall for it a second time.”
“They won't.”
Anhalt regarded Greyfriar again. “Were you injured?”
“You make it challenging, but no. I'm fine.”
Anhalt could almost see the toothy smile of the vampire behind the cowl. He would have never expected humor to be part of the creature's repertoire. He was finding that many things he thought about vampires were gross misconceptions. He wondered how many of his officers and men would feel the same way if they knew Greyfriar's secret. Few enough, he suspected.
Greyfriar said, “I'm lucky. I was coming in from the northern lines when the screams of those, what do you call them, rockets, gave me warning. Though they set my teeth on edge.”