The smell was awful, the corpses of 10 GI's surrounded Sgt. Mike Harris and Corporal Jed Thorne. The two were used to the smell of decay though, not only had they been involved with the wilderness campaign for 3 months, but they had also been inside this foxhole with their fallen comrades for 3 days. A low rumble mixed with a scampering noise was slowly replacing the slight ringing in Sgt. Harris's ears… As the rumbling grew louder, and the earth around him began to shake, it became perfectly clear to Harris what was coming. Apocalypse.

Harris mouthed "Lock and Load" to his companion and wearily peeked his head from the hole. Quickly pulling his head back in Harris explained that the count was 3 terror drones and 1 apocalypse tank. The thought had begun cross their minds to burrow in with the bodies and pretend to be a corpse until, off in the distance, a yell rang out. 
"Wanna Scrap!" They heard, and it became clear whom the voice belonged to. The cockiest group in the army… The guardians. Before Harris and Thorne could react, in quick succession, were a series of four explosions, followed by robotic screams. The guardians never missed their mark, the terror drones were out of commission and now it was time for the two battle hardened veterans to go to work. Harris scrambled from the hole, temporarily blinded by the light and followed by Thorne, only in time to hear the turret of the apocalypse turning. 

"HIT THE DECK!" he screamed as a deafening blast rocked through him and sent two shells whizzing over his head no more than 5 feet. When he realized that the tank was not shooting at him, Harris scurried around the back of the tank, grabbed two grenades, pulled the pins, and threw both into the exhaust outlet on the back of the tank. He could tell immediately that he had hit his mark as the back of the behemoth burst into flames. Harris looked over to find Thorne burying himself in the bank behind the foxhole. After looking at the inferno engulfing the tank, Harris decided to do the same. Barely had he jumped behind the hill when a blinding light and shock wave hit him. The fuel tanks onboard the tank had ruptured and caught fire, this fire leaked up through small cracks caused by the grenades into the magazine. 

The force of the blast blew the chassis of the tank in two and threw the turret thirty feet into the air, which came crashing down on top of what was left of the crew compartment. With elation both men jumped into the air, shook hands, and hugged. As they turned to face their saviors they came face to face with four men with burning red eyes, long coats and bloody knifes in hand. Harris and Thorne knew it was all over before they made a desperate grab for their side arms.

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