THE TWELVE

The scene that met their eyes took the fight out of their minds.

Their large helicopter was being torn apart by as many as five trees that kept going at it like boxers pummelling at their opponents. With each blow, a part of the aircraft fell away, and by the time they saw it, one of the blades was already crashing down.

Frozen, they watched helplessly, without knowing which they were more afraid of. The size of the trees — which made them stand twice as tall as the usual, or the heads sitting in the middle of the trees, just on the point where the branches spread from the body of the tree, or the fact that these trees were moving like animals, pulling up their roots from the ground as they did, or the fact that they were now trapped in this place, with these things.

Whichever way, there were those who started to run.

The General refused to back down. His only move was a backward step which he allowed himself for his horror, before barking his order.

“Shoot.” The man yelled, and leadi