"Seventy, maybe eighty…" I estimated, counting about ten by eight, with a few hollow spaces occupied by longer distance between the broken down cars the girls were bound inside of.
There was a pause.
"Are you sure?" My friend Gorien apparently wanted an accurate measurement for how many girls in the muddy valley were praying to their god because of us. Because of bored monsters.
"What does it matter?" I had grown jaded, even enough to outweigh my own fear. That being "disrespectful" to my army would have me beheaded, and that was the best execution one could hope for. Except for the guy we nukes but that's a story for another day.
"I'm just wondering what the score is. They really cost us!" He laughed. Trying to lighten the mood, he must've been more boisterous than usual, but he was always boisterous, so maybe he was just super happy given the current victory, Pyrrhic though it was.
"You say that like we can fault them. This is what was destined to happen to them, it's not like-"
"OH WHATEVER LET'S DO THIS!"
"HOLD ON HOLD ONE!!" Someone shouts from afar. *Who now?* I wonder. *Oh, Kal. Fuck.* I hear him from atop the hill, to my left behind me, and as he passes the peak, we see he's followed by soldiers pulling a car. Feet kick the windows inside.
Jaded though I am, I'm not exactly innocent of all this. May as well have fun, too. "Toss this in there!" I say, grabbing a severed hand from the corpse strewn field and walking to the crew. They open its driver side door, and I glance at the crying girls inside. They're young. Not too young, like toddlers, who would just be shot. No. They were teenagers, probably, at least pubescent. one may have been into her twenties but was at least 14, hard to tell when everyone is… as we all were.
I toss the severed hand at the face of the oldest girl. They scramble to escape and beg, but their teeth are smashed with hammers and their tongues mostly cut out, all collected. Just naked, bloody girls, with few if any teeth and no tongues, pleading with moans to be let free to starve in the urban wastelands. I see one soldier has taken an eye. Or maybe she lost it in the battle. It's even possible she had lost an eye before the assault. What a battle it was, such a siege, but they ran out of ammo and didn't have the fighting abilities nor the numbers to withstand an onslaught of our abundantly though cheaply equipped warriors. Molotov after Molotov had bombarded them. Our own vehicles had run them down in hectic surges, crushing bones. And when tanks were called for, we had a few.
The valleys had turned into mass graves. Any bodies we didn't toss in their were either still alive or posed on fences and balconies- in some cases, both.
All the men of their towns are dead now, as are most of their women, but the girls are either slaves to be kept and made sterile or about to be tortured to death.
Every girl had been tied like a pig to be slaughtered, or worse. Some had their ankles to their necks, others had their limbs all cut off and their stumps burned with looted gasoline.
With a collective grunt, the men shove the car down the valley, and it rolls for several dozen meters, crashing into another car, filled with slightly older girls and their dead families packed tightly. Their screams were… not unlike their screams had been for days now. The crash of one cars riding and sliding in mud into the side of another was loud, the impact perhaps killing a girl, certainly injuring one.
We walked atop the peak and took in the sight of the wide curving ditch. Once a river, it used to be my home before I was outcast for siding with wolves that knew themselves to be wolves over cancers that thought themselves gods. These other men didn't have the same recollection. I doubted any had passed through it and could ever imagine it in any other light. just a mass grave of metal, pain, and death.
It's amazing how good your eyesight can be when things get real. I saw how the faces of the girls froze with realization, in some cars, where they heard the humming of our tanks that began to rumble the ground as they rolled forward and down the softer slopes on the other side of the this hellish pit. I could see one girl in particular went from a wild screaming to a horrid contemplation, then twisting her head despite the pain, then crying aloud again but it was quieter, in such a way I could see it, her soft but awful crying drowned out by the piercing screams of her sisters.
Slowly the 7 tanks rolled towards and then over the cars. Screams increased as more girls, previously unharmed past cuts, joined the chorus and then grew quieter at such distance, as some girls died before others, and over a half hour, the tanks slowly drove over every car in the path and back again. They repeated the process again, and hour after they began, the tanks had crushed every car and every girl within.
The song, filled with the crumpling and screeching of bodies and metal sheets and pipes, had come to an end.