The ground twisted and heaved. A swath of sand lifted and fell to earth in the near distance. Curtains of spray rose in lines from the earth. Aircraft seared the sky, flying low with black trails following, like the rising dust of other marauders from long ago.
In all directions Meagan saw multicolored forms, misshapen and sprawled, but her eyes would not focus, could not comprehend the thousand squirming remains of a massacre. Shapes of animals—both man and horse—lay crushed and struggling, or else staggered blindly across acres of death.
Screaming came from the sky and Meagan instinctively ducked lower as mechanical whines grew and planes dived, releasing packages to detonate in flashes and thunder around her. On the horizon, a line of gray tanks dipped and bobbed over uneven ground as they came. Her thoughts flashed to another battlefield, another time … the chariots were coming…