Andromeda's Fall (Legion of the Damned)

by Dietz, William C.

  “I agree,” Jones added grimly. “Let’s teach the loyalists a lesson. Once the battalion has been destroyed, they’ll think twice before they send more troops into the Big Green.”

  Not too surprisingly, Anslo had a similar view. As McKee listened to the Droi, she could imagine a scene in which thousands of warriors attacked the battalion at once. Echo Company would give a good account of itself, but even they could be overrun. That was a horrible thought. So she listened carefully, hoping to hear a date and time. But no mention of that was made, leaving her to wonder as the light continued to fade, and the meeting came to a conclusion.

  A Droi led her to a lean-to, where a neatly folded trade blanket and a gourd full of water were waiting. After brushing her teeth with a finger, she lay down and wrapped the blanket around her body. But try as she might, sleep wouldn’t come. Not while her friends were at risk. Yet what could she do? Leave the Droi encampment and warn them? That would amount to a double betrayal. First the Legion, then those who opposed Ophelia’s corrupt government.

  And what if she was able to alert the battalion? What then? Jivv would kill her. But maybe that was okay if it would save her unit. More than that, maybe she deserved to die given what she’d done.

  At some point the roiling thoughts gave way to an uneasy sleep. But not for long. When McKee awoke, it was still dark, and much to her surprise, she knew what to do. It wasn’t right, not by a long shot, but a decision had been made.

  McKee unwound the blanket, sat up, and began to consider her options. Ideally, she would take the blanket, the AXE, and the helmet with her. It was going to be a difficult trip through the forest, and all three items would come in handy.

  But if she took them Anslo, Jones, and Trask would know what she was up to and attempt to track her down. Whereas if she left such important items behind, it would appear that she had gotten up in the middle of the night, wandered off to take a pee, and gotten lost in the darkness. Yes, they would still search for her, but not in the same way. And if they did manage to find her, she could use the story, and they would believe her. That made sense, so the decision was made.

  But while McKee planned to leave the blanket, AXE, and helmet behind, she still had her body armor, knife, pistol, and lots of ammo. Because the assault rifle and the handgun were chambered for the same 4.7mm rounds. That, plus the compass function built into her chrono, would see her through.

  McKee used quick blips from her flashlight to scan the ground for any other items, spotted the water gourd, and wished she could take it. But that wouldn’t make sense. Not for someone who had gotten up to go relieve herself. She could take a drink from it, however, and did.

  She feared that leaving the encampment would be difficult but quickly discovered that the Droi were a good deal more lax than the Legion was, having placed their sentries hundreds of feet apart. That allowed her to slip between two of them and follow a gully downhill. Two of Orlo II’s moons were up. The trees blocked most of the silvery light—but some of it found its way to the forest floor. And luminescent insects darted here and there. Each was like a flying jewel—and they were comforting somehow.

  McKee paused every now and then to listen. But all she heard were the usual night sounds and the gentle rasp of her own breathing. Eventually, the gully opened into a small stream that led west. The Droi were good trackers, but even they couldn’t follow her through running water.

  Roughly half a mile later, McKee was forced to leave the stream when it turned north. At that point she figured it was safe to probe the area ahead using occasional blips from her flashlight. Doing so not only kept her from colliding with obstacles but provided a measure of psychological comfort as well.

  And there were things to be afraid of in the darkness. Every ecosystem has predators. She knew next to nothing about the creatures that lived in the Big Green except for the fact that some of them were noisy. She was reminded of boot camp on Drang as something screeched—and was answered from a long way off.

  Such sounds were frightening, and caused her to put a hand on her pistol more than once. However, if the days spent on Drang had taught her anything, it was that the most dangerous animals were frequently silent. Especially when stalking their prey.

  But there was nothing she could do except stay alert and keep going. The idea was to get well outside the area the Droi would search by the time the sun came up. Such were McKee’s thoughts as she felt the first stomach cramp.

  It came out of nowhere, caused her to double up in pain, and was followed by a bout of nausea. Then, after a minute or so, she felt fine. McKee remembered the food heaped on leaves—and the water in the gourd. It seemed that one or more of the dishes she had consumed didn’t agree with her or was spoiled. Great, McKee thought to herself as she climbed over a half-rotten log. That’s just what I need.

  The nausea returned two minutes later. Then the food came up. She heaved, and continued to do so even after there was nothing left to throw up. It felt as if she would be turned inside out. But maybe that was good. Maybe she would feel better once the bad stuff had been purged from her body. That was her hope. But it wasn’t the case. The dry heaves were followed by more stomach cramps. And they were so painful that she could barely walk as she sought a place to curl up and die.

  McKee turned the flashlight on and kept it on long enough to spot an overgrown stump and what looked like a hole between two enormous roots. It would have to do. She was staggering forward when she felt a pressing need to defecate.

  The thought of shitting her pants, and doing so in a place where it would be almost impossible to get them clean, drove her to clamp down long enough to get her pants down. Having no toilet paper, she had to use handfuls of moss instead.

  Then came the need to put some distance between the scat and herself lest the odor attract animal attention. Thus began a painful trek as McKee forced herself to keep walking. Eventually, the beam from her flashlight swept across a jumble of rocks. As she came closer, she saw a hole between two of them.

  With one hand clutched to her stomach, she fell to her knees in front of the opening and began to crawl inside. That was stupid, of course, since there was a very real possibility that the cavelike space was occupied. If so, an animal might come charging toward her at any moment. And as McKee entered, there was evidence of habitation including tufts of fur, a scattering of well-gnawed bones, and a desiccated corpse about the size of a raccoon. The previous owner? Yes, she thought so, but felt so sick that she didn’t care who or what shared the cave with her.

  McKee turned the flashlight off in order to conserve power, curled up into the fetal position, and allowed herself to cry. The pain began to abate after a while, and nothingness took her in. Later, when she awoke, it was to see rays of sunshine streaming down through small holes above. She was thirsty. Very thirsty. So get some water, she told herself. But when she attempted to do so, the effort was too much, and she collapsed. The cave began to spin, she felt dizzy, and a whirlpool pulled her down.

  It seemed like years later when thunder rolled and a drop of water hit her right eyelid. McKee blinked and blinked again as another droplet splashed against her face. Only a small effort was required to reposition herself so that the liquid landed in her mouth. The rainwater tasted sweet as it hit her tongue. But there wasn’t enough of it. She forced herself to flip over and crawl outside. The downpour soaked her back within a matter of seconds. But then, as she rolled over, the full force of the rain hit her face. She drank it in coughing, swallowing, and opening her mouth for more.

  Bit by bit, McKee felt strength return to her body. It wasn’t long before she was up collecting large leaves to use as bowls. And as water collected in them, she went from leaf to leaf, drinking her fill.

  Then, unable to consume another drop, McKee retreated to the cave. There were leaks, but she could dodge the worst of them by leaning against the back wall. That was
when she noticed the dry twigs that had been part of the previous occupant’s nest. After scooping the detritus into a pile, and throwing the body of the dead animal on top, she lit a fire with her lighter.

  The twigs caught, crackled, and sent flames up under the desiccated corpse. Soon it was burning, too, and McKee had a fire. Smoke billowed, found its way up through cracks, and disappeared. She held her hands out, took in the warmth, and wished she had something to eat. Even an MRE would have been welcome.

  Then she remembered the battalion, the mission she had set for herself, and the importance of time. A quick look at the chrono confirmed her worst fears. More than a day had passed since she’d left the encampment. When were the Droi going to attack? She didn’t know. All she could do was dry out, wait for the rain to ease, and start walking.

  The rain stopped half an hour later, the sun appeared, and McKee left the cave. The combination of heat and moisture turned the forest into a steam bath. And that made the hike uncomfortable. There were other things to worry about, however, including the need to stay on course and the persistent feeling that someone or something was following her. But was that really the case? Or was the crawling sensation between her shoulder blades the product of an overactive imagination?

  McKee paused frequently to look around yet saw nothing. So she climbed a tree in order to spot her pursuer and returned to the ground with no more than some additional scrapes and scratches as a reward for her effort. And as she resumed her march, the crawling sensation went away.

  But not for long. Fifteen minutes later, it returned and McKee was beginning to wonder. Was a lack of food affecting her mind? In an effort to solve the mystery once and for all, she doubled back, searched for the trail she had left, and followed it. Her spoor consisted of broken twigs, a bare spot where a patch of moss had been dislodged from a log, and a boot print next to a stream. And there, partially obscuring the impression she had left, was a second print.

  The creature that was following her had widely splayed toes, and judging from the depth of the print, it was big. The realization sent a chill down her spine as she straightened up and took a long, slow look around. But there was nothing to see other than the rays of sunlight that were slanting down from above, the insects that darted from one place to another, and the lush greenery all around.

  McKee continued to walk until the sun was only a dimly seen presence and the evening gloom started to close in on her. She knew it was important to find a place to spend the night and to do so while there was light to see by. At least half a dozen potential hidey-holes were considered and rejected during the next half hour, and she was more than a little worried by the time she spotted the trees.

  There were three of them all clustered together so that their branches intersected. And at one point, which she estimated to be about twelve feet off the ground, there was a spot where she could create a serviceable sleeping platform by laying saplings across some intersecting limbs.

  Conscious of the fading light and the fact that she was unlikely to find anything better, McKee went out to harvest what she needed. She came across a cluster of what looked like melons, except they had woody shells that reminded her of coconuts, and grew on the ground instead of up in trees.

  The mere thought of food set her stomach to rumbling—and she dropped the armful of freshly cut sticks to inspect her find. She had to stab one of the globes in order to penetrate the outer surface. Then it was possible to make a continuous cut and divide the object in half. Five rather large seeds were clustered at the center of each hemisphere and surrounded by relatively soft, apricot-colored flesh. It smelled familiar, and a taste confirmed her suspicion. Here was some of the same fruit that had been served in the Droi encampment! Did that mean it was safe to eat? Or was it the cause of her stomach cramps? Consuming it would constitute a roll of the dice. But McKee knew she was going to chance it. Had to chance it or grow increasingly weak.

  The platform had to come first, however. Then, if she became sick, she would be up off the ground and well out of reach. As darkness fell, McKee was up on the platform trying to make herself comfortable, an activity that turned out to be a waste of time.

  So she turned her attention to the melons. After opening one of them she tried a seed. It was too bitter to eat, so she spit it out. That left the fruit. Her plan was to eat a small portion and wait for an hour. Then, if she hadn’t suffered any adverse effects, she would consume the rest of it.

  So McKee forced herself to chew slowly as she ate six chunks of fruit. There was lots of sweet juice, which she allowed to trickle down the back of her throat. Having consumed the allotment, she checked her chrono and allowed her back to rest on the centermost tree trunk. A howl came from very nearby and caught her by surprise. As McKee pulled the pistol out of its shoulder holster, the first cry was echoed by a second. There were at least two of them!

  A metallic click was heard as the flashlight mated with fittings on top of the pistol. Then, having turned the light on, McKee directed the beam down. What happened next came as a complete shock as a large animal jumped upwards, crashed through a couple of branches, and looked at her. It had big yellow eyes, and for one brief moment, they locked with hers before falling out of sight.

  The whole thing was so unexpected that McKee failed to get a shot off. She realized that the sleeping platform was too low. It should have been twenty feet off the ground. But it was too late to correct that, so all she could do was hold the handgun in the approved two-handed grip and wait for the next attack. It came seconds later as a big head struck the bottom of the platform and nearly knocked her off.

  As the animal dropped to the ground, McKee fired down through the floor and had the satisfaction of hearing a roar of outrage from below. That was her signal to holster the weapon and start climbing. There were plenty of branches, and in a matter of seconds she was able to put an additional six feet between herself and the platform.

  Having found a new perch, McKee directed the flashlight downwards, quartered the area below, and spotted two yellow eyes looking up at her. She knew that there were twenty-five shots left in the magazine. She managed to get ten of them off before the predator jumped sideways and out of the light. Most if not all of her bullets had hit the monster. But the puny 4.7mm ammo lacked enough punch to kill the beast. Not unless she could score some good head shots.

  That was what McKee was thinking when the predator hit one of the trees. All three of them shook, but she held on and was ready when the monster jumped up at her. This time she fired before the carnivore could reach apogee. And because the light was on it, she could see the hits as at least five of six rounds punched their way down through the top of the animal’s triangular skull and into its brain.

  The predator fell, hit hard, and lay sprawled below. As McKee’s light passed over the creature, she saw that it was larger than she had first imagined. It had shimmery skin, powerful hindquarters, and a hooked claw at the end of each forearm.

  Suddenly, the second predator appeared at the very edge of the flashlight’s reach and snarled menacingly. McKee had to tip the light up and away in order to reload. This time she would aim for the head first. But there was no need as the newcomer uttered a grunt of what might have been satisfaction and began to rip bloody chunks of meat off the still-warm body.

  McKee felt a tremendous sense of relief as she removed the flashlight from the pistol and restored the weapon to its holster. She wanted to return to the sleeping platform, or what was left of it, in order to get the melons, but thought it prudent to let a full ten minutes pass before doing so. Then, careful to make as little noise as possible, she descended branch by branch while pausing occasionally to make sure that the predator wasn’t paying attention to her.

  Once on the platform, she played the light across the floor until she spotted a melon. The rest had fallen through the hole the first monster made and were somewhere below. But
this one remained. And as McKee edged her way over to it, she remembered how good the sample had been—and realized that her stomach felt fine! Perhaps the meat had been to blame for the cramps. Or the sauerkraut-like stuff. It didn’t matter. She had food!

  Five minutes later, McKee had climbed higher in the tree, settled into the crotch between two large branches, and opened the surviving melon. And as she gorged herself on fruit, the beast below continued to growl and gobble gobbets of raw meat. It was the most memorable meal of her life.

  After consuming the entire melon, and with her stomach full for the first time in two days, McKee slept sitting up. She woke frequently, once to hear the crunching of bones, before drifting off again. It made for a long night. But eventually she opened her eyes to discover that the sun was up, though just barely, as filtered light found the forest floor.

  McKee felt stiff as she knelt on the platform and peeked over the side. The second predator had departed. In its place were at least a dozen scaly meat eaters who were busy stripping the carcass. The scavengers scattered as McKee threw pieces of melon husk at them, but they didn’t go far. Dozens of beady eyes were on her as she lowered herself to within four feet of the ground and dropped the rest of the way.

  The smell associated with the carcass was horrible. So McKee did the best she could to breathe through her mouth as she recovered a melon and drew her pistol. Then, weapon at the ready, she began to move toward two of the weasel-like animals. They scurried out of the way. Once she was at what they considered to be a safe distance, the animals returned to their feast.

  Having checked the compass function on her chrono, McKee began to walk west. With light to see by and perfect weather, she made good time. And after an hour or so, she decided that the melon was something of an encumbrance and paused long enough to eat most of it. Then she was off again.