She crouched down, hiding behind the crumbled wall. She heard the crunching of feet passing next to her as she held her breath, hoping it didn't hear the hammering of her heart or smell her perspiration. She heard it pause and turn; her body dove and she twisted just soon enough to see it smash the wall into dust.

The demon was as tall as the ceiling. Its dark-blue skin made it part of the darkness behind it. It had the build of a wrestler and a single horn grew from between its red eyes. A roar brought home that it was the apex predator and not her. She had to wear armor, after all, but at least the dark armor allowed her to hide in the shadows, giving her a chance to surprise it.

She pulled the trigger and her rifle barked bullets. She held the trigger for a solid ten seconds until the clip was dry. The demon looked at her, more annoyed than angry. It roared at her and she covered her head. It leaped and she prayed for a quick death.

Then she heard it crash off to her left. Puzzled and relieved she looked at the demon, fighting for its life against a pair of robot dogs. Rodriguez had survived! She got up and ran, even as she heard the metallic crunch of the dogs losing their struggle. The demon threw the bodies of the dogs down and they exploded into sparks and started running after her yet again.

She rounded a corner, the demon right behind her. She heard the click of rifles coming off safety, followed by the sound of a dozen rifles on full auto. She flattened against a wall to catch her breath, then joined the rest of the platoon. Large sections of the demon fell away under their combined fire. They were able to reload and continue fire until the demon was nothing but huge slabs of meat. Three incendiary grenades tossed into the pile of flesh reduced the demon to ashes in minutes.

Lieutenant Sawyer turned to her platoon. “That was close. Let's try not to let that happen again.” The platoon smiled, knowing that she was not as cool as she pretended to be. “Sorry about the dogs, Rodriguez; their sacrifice is appreciated.” The tall man next to her grunted; she knew he would be drunk within minutes of reaching base. “We move out in fifteen.”

They started cleaning up, taking advantage of the respite to check their weapons and grab a power bar. The platoon was soon ready to go; they knew they had to be back at the base before sunset or their odds of survival would be greatly decreased, and they weren't all that great, to begin with. They began marching off.

* * * * *

A winged gargoyle noted the departure of the company and flew off. A few moments later and it landed. The evil beast folded his wings as he entered a doorway and faded into the shadows.

* * * * *

She had barely entered the gates of Fort Solace when she received the summons from the lord of Fort Solace, General Martins. Sparing just a moment to be peeved at the delay of her very-needed bath, she barked a few basic orders, telling them to stow their gear and get drunk, and then rushed to the general's office. Of course, she had to sign off on a few forms on the way there, but they were just part of the job.

She presented herself to the general's secretary and was ushered in. She clicked to attention, her hand going up by itself. Just as reflexively the general, an athletic woman not used to sitting behind a desk, motioned for her to sit. Lieutenant Sawyer sat. General Martins pushed a folder over to her.

She opened the proffered folder and began perusing it. “Sir, this is my next mission?”

General Martins smiled. “Of sorts. We need you to test a weapon, we think, and see what happens.”

Lieutenant Sawyer looked up. “Fun.” She closed the folder. “'We think', sir?”

General Martins handed her an envelope and motioned for the younger woman to open it. When Lieutenant Sawyer opened it she tipped it and a ring fell into her palm. The ring didn't look too extraordinary, a steel band with what appeared to be the Greek symbol of water, two parallel bars with a dot at the open ends, and open circles on both sides. Inside were engraved two words in Greek; not knowing Greek she had no idea what the words were. “This is the weapon?”

General Martins looked at the junior officer. “Correct. We know it summons something, and that something will be amicable to the summoner. All you need are the words 'huc' and 'excite'.”

“I seem to remember that some magic has a cost. But what's the cost? Otherwise, you would be testing it yourself.”

“True. The summoner and summoned are linked. That's all we know. I wish I had more, But we need someone to test it. Given the nature of the mission at hand, I would understand if you refused.”

Lieutenant Sawyer thought about it. Then she smiled. “Who wants to live forever, right?”

General Martins smiled. “Right.” She handed the Lieutenant an envelope. “The ring is in there. Just put on your ring finger when you hit the zone, and make sure you're in actual trouble before using it.”

“Well, if I'm in the zone trouble shouldn't be that far behind,”

General Martins smile. “True.” She paused. “To facilitate the situation, you and some of your soldiers will create a new scavenger squad; we can always use a new scavenging squad. You need to move fast and silent, and a platoon would be neither.”

"Who gets to take over my platoon?”

"Fanta. He's been itching for a command of some sort and your NCOs should flatten the learning curve.” General Martins handed her a folder. “You get to keep Samuels, Walker, and Rodriguez. Yes, we were able to find some new dogs for him, and their improved weaponry should give you an edge should you encounter any more xenos.”

Lieutenant Sawyer smiled; the general still refused to call them “demons”. She opened the file and looked at her new team. “And who is this 'Douglas' person? I'm not familiar with him.”

"He's a local contact. He should be able to get you where you need to go.”

"Fun. Do I have at least a day to get everything together?”

“You have until tomorrow noon. You'll need to get going no later than then.”

“Willdo, sir.” She got up, saluted, and left. She had a checklist of things she would need to get ready for tomorrow's mission and needed to start checking boxes ASAP.

* * * * *

The gargoyle left the doorway and flew into the night, flying to his new post. He had been ordered to look for others coming to the fort and report any small groups or individuals. While he had been told about a small group leaving the fort, he was told not to worry about it; it was already under surveillance. That, and he was waiting for something to come in.

* * * * *

The checklist wasn't just to make sure that she was ready. Sure, it helped make sure that she had everything she would need, that everything she packed was cleaned, and gave her peace of mind, but that wasn't all. It put her in the right frame of mind, a ritual of sorts to shift her from barracks mode to field mode. She inspected all of her gear, looking for cracks and holes. Finding none made her happy; she even smiled as she realized all of those trips to the armorer had their dividends.

She also looked over the information on Samuels and Walker. Rodriguez was a known quantity to her; he had been assigned to her company almost as soon as he had arrived at the base. For several years he had acted as the houndmaster, an operator in charge of two mechanical canines, their sensory output going to his visor and allowing him to see and smell what they did. He could choose from a couple of different models to allow for better scouting or defense, but the missions of late had required the rottweillers, the most offensively capable canines in their arsenal. Great guy, but tended to drink a little heavily; fortunately, he would have time to sleep off the hangover before they headed out.

Corporal Devon Samuels: primary MOS was scout, secondary MOS sniper. With a relay mic that meant he was a ghost, staying out of sight, out of mind until he was needed. He would also be needed to look for surprises ahead of the team and keep the way clear, either by dealing with the problem himself or by suggesting an alternate route. Good man, and not as silent as his file would suggest; unless otherwise directed he would give a running commentary of the mission. While it could get annoying it also provided vital intel about the area coming up.

Lieutenant Sawyer smiled as she realized General Martins had probably sent him as a way to get him out of the barracks; when he was cooped up for too long he released the pressure by playing practical jokes on his bunkmates. While it broke up the monotony of the post-cataclysm life, it did make him the target of retribution, and sending him outside every so often kept him alive more often than not.

PFC Cletus Walker was probably sent with her to keep him safe as well. He was one of the new breed and not military-trained: He had been a researcher before the cataclysm, reading through ancient texts in search of historical footnotes. He had been one of the early rescues, but his experience with those texts had given his rescuers an edge when it came to dealing with the demons; since he had a background in mythology he knew the weaknesses of the demons that attacked the company as it attempted to return to base.

While he was seen as somewhat of a good luck charm, his lack of physical fitness made him the butt of all sorts of jokes. His inability to return from missions unscratched didn't help matters, nor did his need to always be reading something. He also gave off a weird vibe, like whoever he was talking to was an insect on a tray. There was other weirdness, but his academic background had saved enough people enough times that it was disregarded.

As she packed her e-tool she decided she needed one more person. Hopefully, General Martins hadn't left her office yet...