by SD Tanner
“Roger that.”
Launching from the rear door of the medical building, he sprinted sharply to the left. Gunfire erupted around him giving them cover. Tiana was secured between the three of them.
“Pick up the pace!”
At a push, they could run at over thirty miles per hour, but it wasn’t easy to shoot anything when they did. Joining the road that ran down the middle of the site, critters were emerging from between the buildings, howling in rage. Tank had never explained just how large and fast they were on land. Swinging his gun to the right, he fired at the black body of a multi legged critter. Its mouth was open as it charged towards them. As a squad, they were rapidly gaining speed, streaking past more buildings.
“Tiana, are you ok?”
Even though her organs were mechanical, she still needed air. She sounded breathless, but the Navigator gear was feeding oxygen into her suit. “Ok.”
It was all she could say while they ran at thirty miles per hour along the stretch of road. Critters were equally as fast. One leapt from between two Navigator barracks, landing on its many legs to his left. Skidding, it almost crashed into his side. Punching hard with his left fist, he socked it in the face. The blow was enough to move it out of his way, allowing them to maintain their pace. Behind him, Cardiff opened fire.
“Cardiff, leave it. Don’t lose pace.”
Samson was firing at another critter leaping across the top of a barracks ahead of them. “Ark, do you see it?”
“See what?”
“Look up.”
Critters were falling from the sky. Some appeared to be drifting downward. Other’s had their legs splayed widely, spinning aggressively towards the surface. The skies were thick with them and he estimated thousands were landing every second.
Cardiff gasped. “Oh shit. We’re screwed.”
Sprinting along the road, churning the gravel under their heavy boots, there was nothing he could do to stop them. A critter hammered into the road in front of him, landing heavily onto its many legs. The joints bent deep as its gut slammed into the ground. Stunned by the violent landing it still raised its head, screeching at the sight of them. Raising his gun, he repeatedly fired at its head. Each bullet was stopping it from moving forward, but it didn’t die.
“What do we do?” Samson asked, firing at the critter.
“Run over the damned thing.”
Moving forward until they were side by side almost touching at the elbows, they drove their bodies into the critter. The force of two hardened bodies in full armor running at thirty miles per hour slammed it backward. Tumbling over, its legs scrabbled at the air.
“Keep moving!”
While it untangled its legs to stand, they left it far behind them. “They don’t die easy,” Samson said dourly.
Tank had always said they were hard to kill. In space, they could be blown to pieces using the heavy weapons on their ships, but their guns were nowhere near as effective. How had his grandfather defeated the critters the first time? Back then, their weapons were primitive and Tank said they had no air cover. He finally understood why they’d nearly lost everyone. It must have been a desperate battle.
In front of them was a long row of small houses. The only way through was to run along the narrow alleys between each house. He didn’t want to leave Tiana exposed. They were armored Bombardiers and she was only wearing Navigator armor.
“Single file! Tiana in the middle.”
As they fell into formation, he ran through the first of what would be many alleys to reach the park with the wormhole.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:
Lean On Me
(Tank)
Slamming his foot into the head of the critter, he lost his balance, falling backwards onto the ground. According to his visor, there were only two more rows of houses and then they would be at the edge of the park. Fighting through twenty-five rows to this house had been hard enough. Rather than run through the narrow alleys between them, he was slamming through the front door to each. Every house was the same. A front door with a back door directly opposite. Breaking through the doors had slowed them down, but it was better than being caught in the narrow gap.
Critters were dumb. Every time they disappeared through a front door, the idiots assumed they would leave the same way. When they ran out of the back door, the critters were still hanging around the front wondering where they’d gone.
The one he’d stomped on had already scrabbled to its clawed feet, rearing onto its many back legs to strike. Bombardier Four-Two didn’t give it the chance. Grabbing it by two back legs, he yanked it away, hurling it aside as he did. Springing to his feet, he ran towards the front door of the next house.
“Man, they’re dumb,” Bombardier Four-Two said, following close on his heels.
“Always were. They’re controlled by something else.”
“Then the controller is dumb.”
“Look alive, Four-Two, they’re not completely stupid.”
Each house was no bigger than a trailer, complete with two rooms, a small combined lounge and kitchen, plus a bathroom. Families barely fit inside of the compact building, and shelves lining the lounge area were often piled high with clutter. Cramped with chairs and tables, they were hammering through anything in their way. If anyone were following them, they could track their flight path by the many doors left hanging on their hinges and broken furniture.
A critter was lurking on the roof of the next house. Whirling, it turned to face him as he ran along the path towards the front door. Aiming his gun at it, he fired. The blast threw it backwards, but it stuck out several long legs, clinging to the overhang above the door. More gunfire joined his as they advanced towards the closed door. Compared to their armored frames the door didn’t stand a chance. Slamming his shoulder against it, he felt it bursting open.
The critter above them hadn’t fallen from the roof. Instead, it lunged forward onto its front legs. Bombardier Six-Three was covering their six, but he didn’t make it through the door before the critter dropped. Falling backwards under its weight, he slammed onto the path in front of the door. Bombardier Four-Two was already turning around. The small lounge was cramped, made even smaller by several large sofas. Accidentally elbowing him as he turned, he fell forward onto the sofa, tipping over until he was behind it.
“Watch it!”
“Go, Tank.”
“What?”
“Get to the wormhole.”
Bombardier Four-Two was firing through the front door and the flashing in his visor briefly stopped him from seeing what was coming. A dozen critters were leaping over the house behind theirs.
“Dammit.”
Rising to his feet, he heaved the sofa out of his way, moving towards the window next to the front door. Trailers were made of flimsy material, meaning bullets, pulse beams and claws made short work of the prefabricated walls. Other than stopping critters seeing them, using the walls as cover was pointless.
Roughly shoving the end of his Bomhammer through the window, he began firing at the critter still standing over Bombardier Six-Three.
“Six-Three, roll and get inside.”
Pulse after pulse was hitting the critter. Chunks of black rubbery flesh flew into the air. Targeting the rounded joints on its legs, he blew away one kneecap after another. It might have many legs, but eventually it tipped onto one side. Bombardier Six-Three slid on his back out from under the collapsing critter. Skidding through the front door on his back, he rolled onto his feet, quickly spinning to fire at the swarm.
Critters were leaping onto the roofs of the houses behind theirs, sliding until they tumbled onto the road between them. Six or more were making their way towards the house. Firing steadily at the two on his right, Bombardier Six-Three was shooting the two in front of him. Bombardier Four-Two was covering their left, but no one was watching their six. If anything crept up behind them then they were dead.
Without thinking, he moved away from the window and behind the usele
ss wall while he reloaded a battery pack. It was a familiar way of fighting born out of decades in the army. Old habits die hard, and sometimes they could still save a life. When the entire roof collapsed, it crashed into the spot he’d been standing in. The room became a confused blur of thrashing clawed limbs. Swiping wildly, the critter was cutting into its own legs, or maybe there was more than one.
Lowering his weapon, he fired into the black mass hoping he was hitting something vital. “Go! Go! Go!”
Slamming his shoulder into the far wall, Bombardier Four-Two almost fell outside. The wall collapsed, exploding dust into the air. Bombardier Six-Three was edging around the window next to the door, heading towards the hole in the wall.
“Get outta here. Run!”
While they fired at the flailing limbs hoping to hit the main body, they were losing the fight. The entire trailer was being torn apart by slashing claws. More of the roof collapsed and large holes were appearing in the walls. If they stayed much longer then there would be no house left around them.
“Not happening, Tank.”
Behind him, critters outside of the house were ripping into the walls and thrusting more legs through the broken windows. Something punched his back, throwing him forward into the thrashing limbs. He was surrounded by critters and every single one of them wanted him dead.
“Go! I’ve got this.”
“Not happening, Tank. We go together.”
Bombardier Four-Two hadn’t been by his side for over a hundred years without learning a thing or two about his nature. They were both carrying plasma mines. All they had to do was trigger them.
Another punch in the spine pushed him forward again. It was now or never. He wasn’t going to let any dumbass critter be the one to kill him.
A plasma mine would expel molten plasma and shrapnel out to a hundred yards in all directions. Nothing would survive the blast. Detonating two of them at the same time would turn the streets and houses into a wasteland. He pulled the safety tag from his mine and twisted the primer to ON. Bombardier Four-Two did the same with his. They laid them side by side on the ground between them.
Before he could punch the release on the mines, a voice filled his helmet. “Ark Three to whoever is in that house. Hit the deck!”
Hearing his voice both surprised and elated him. Dropping to his knees, he fell forward. His screen flashed white and something was thudding onto him.
“Ark?”
“Tank?”
Rising to his feet, chunks of the house tumbled from his body. There was very little left of the trailer other than the far outside wall. Leaning inwards, it was propped up by two large beds. Bombardier Four-Two was also climbing to his feet, dislodging broken pieces of furniture and chunks of the wall and roof. There was a steady sound of gunfire to his left, but it wasn’t only Bombardier Six-Three firing. Ark Three had brought Samson and Cardiff with him.
Meeting Ark Three in the middle of the road between the houses, he grabbed his armored arm. “Did you come from the wormhole? Is it working?”
“No, we found a planet.” Ark Three flicked his head towards the park. “Run and talk.”
Nodding, he waved his hand at the Bombardiers. “Pull out!”
Trotting with Ark Three by his side, all he felt was deep relief. Ark Three was speaking rapidly. “We found a planet with cities. Not like ours. They were advanced. They had critters stored in tubes. We found vials. We were attacked. My droid released the stuff in the vials. It killed the critters. Turned them to dust. They work like a virus. The stuff in the vials is the antidote.”
His brain was working in overdrive. If Ark Three had a cure then why wasn’t he using it? Before he could ask the question, Ark Three continued, “We found a transporter. We didn’t know what it was. I think the droid might have accidentally activated it. Anyway, it sent us back here. I think it’s how they got the sleepers to destroy the wormhole. Our ships with the vials are at the wormhole coordinates. If we bring them home then we stop this. Is the larger wormhole working?”
By now, they’d already reached the last row of houses before the park. The wormhole machine was in an enormous hangar in the middle of the empty lawn. He didn’t understand why they’d built it here and not behind the walls of CaliTech, but he supposed they needed more room to transport BattleRigs. At least thirty critters were roaming the park and bumping into one another.
“Halt!”
Hidden between the last of the houses, he crouched facing the park. “What are you gonna do if the wormhole isn’t operational?”
“I don’t know. We need those ships back here. The first step is to find out if it’s working.”
“If it isn’t then you’ll have to evacuate anyone you can. Head back to Tracha and regroup.” Grabbing Ark Three’s forearm, he added, “Casey’s dead. Take Leon. The kids are under the medical center. I want you and Tiana to raise him.”
Pulling his arm away, Ark Three sounded irritable. “Don’t start with me, Tank. You don’t get to check out like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself. You might think you’re a man out of time, but that’s not what I see. You’re the only father Dunk and I have so buckle up, Buttercup, you don’t get to check out.”
He’d lost his squad and they could never be replaced, but now he had a new family. Ark Three was his son, and given he saw Dunk Three as his brother, he supposed he had more than one. “Fine, but you and Tiana are still gonna raise Leon. I’m too cranky and he needs a good mother.”
“Happy to, but no heroics from you.”
Glancing across at the hangar containing the wormhole, critters were making their awkward way around it. Languidly lifting their many legs, they didn’t appear to be guarding it. Knowing how dumb they were, he suspected they had no idea what was inside of the hangar. There was a deep rend in the front doors suggesting that at least one was already inside.
“You need a distraction.” Standing, he said, “All Boms are with me. Ark Three and Tiana are heading to the hangar. The rest of us will play hunt the rabbit.”
“Oh no, really?” Cardiff asked unhappily.
“Yep, we’ll run into the park and then head in different directions.”
“Why do your plans always suck?”
Bombardier Four-Two answered for him. “Tank’s been alive for longer than anyone. His plans never suck.”
“On your feet!”
They entered the park as five Bombardiers, immediately putting distance between them. Cardiff was waving at several critters.
“Here, critter, critter. Come to mama!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:
Out of the Frying Pan
(Dunk Three)
Unable to transport more than a small amount of fragile tissue, the first wormhole could only be used for ships and Bombardiers. He’d adapted this one, adding to Dunk Two’s original design, but it had never been tested.
“You’re going to die.”
Ignoring his clone, he grabbed Mariana by the wrist. “You’re already dead.”
“D’uh. You shot me through the head.”
Walking into the middle of the large wormhole, he said, “AI, seal chamber.”
A grinding noise came from above his head as a door slid from the top of the chamber. Once it was fully extended, it slowly lowered until the room was sealed. “AI, initiate transport.”
Through a glass window in the door a green light began flashing, indicating the chamber was operational. Once he commenced transport, he and Mariana would arrive at the other end either as mush or alive.
“You should test this on a donkey first.”
“Do you have a donkey?” He asked in disgust.
“No, I think they’re extinct, but I’m sure we have some cells in the medical center.”
“If you’re not going to suggest anything useful then you should leave.”
“I can’t. I’m your conscience.”
“No, you’re not. You’re
a manifestation of my insanity. If you don’t stop annoying me I’ll shoot you again.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense.”
“Initiation complete.”
The smooth voice of the artificial intelligence was really that of the nanobytes controlling the wormhole. By adding Trachan technology, they’d opened a world of possibilities, meaning his adaptations might work. If they didn’t then he was one dead donkey.
His dead clone looked around the chamber seeming worried. “Wait! What are you going to do if it does work? What if you do transport to Aria? What are you planning to do?”
They were very good questions and not ones he could answer. Once he realized Mariana had been spying on them, rage had driven him to enter the coordinates to Aria. He wanted to know who they were and why they were trying to destroy mankind for a second time. They’d never done anything to Mariana; Ark Three had made sure of that. He’d committed treason, making himself an outlaw and started a civil war for her. Why would she betray a man who’d shown her nothing other than kindness?
Glaring at Mariana, the rage he’d felt earlier bubbled to the surface. “Why?”
“There was no choice.”
“Why?”
She shook her head as if unable to explain. Since nearly strangling her, she’d refused to join his mind again.
“AI, transport.”
A hum grew from the many scanners spread across the room. Built into the floors, walls and ceiling, they generated a heat that penetrated him to the bone. Pressure began building inside of his gut so that his stomach and intestines twisted unsteadily. He might not survive the journey, but the need to know was overriding his self-preservation.
The hum was joined by a high pitch wailing. At first, it was low, but it grew in pitch until it sounded like the howl of a thousand souls. Every single voice was unhappy and pressure was building inside of his head. Grabbing the sides of his face, he dropped to his knees.
“You should have used a donkey.”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
“Don’t be like that. I’m only trying to help.”