CASPer Alamo

by Eric S. Brown

  * * *

  Bowie reached the top of the northern wall and looked down at the forest that spread out in all directions. A tide of shadows ebbed and flowed beneath the considerable canopy, providing the perfect cover for anything that might want to hide. Bowie searched for the shine of yellow eyes, but saw nothing. That didn’t make him feel better. The creatures seemed cunning enough to remain unseen if that was their goal. As Bowie took up a firing position facing the distant tree line, Burke, one of his squad leaders, called to him over the comm of his suit.

  “Major, sir, we’ve got a perimeter breach on the east wall!” Burke yelled.

  “What the frag?” Bowie rasped, wondering how that was even possible. “Who in the devil would be stupid enough to be opening up one of the doors right now? Don’t they know we’re at war?”

  “It’s one of the civvies, sir,” Burke answered. “I can see him from my spot on the wall. He’s heading across the field toward the trees.”

  “Send a squad to get that door closed now!” Bowie ordered.

  “Holy mother…” Burke shouted. “I’ve got an ID on the civilian, Major! It’s that priest that hired us! And it looks like two more people are following him out. Confirmation on that, sir. The head of the colonists’ security detail and a man in a leather jacket, wearing a rather bizarre hat, just emerged from the open doorway as well. They appear to be pursuing the priest. I can’t pinpoint where they’re headed. There’s no obvious goal in sight.”

  “Crockett,” Bowie muttered, knowing exactly who the third man was from his description.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, the skies overhead were starting to blossom in strange hues of purple, like the color of fresh bruises. Streaks of alien lightning raced across the skies. The smell of ozone was heavy in the air.

  “It looks like the commander and the guy in the strange getup are trying to convince the priest to come back inside, but he just keeps walking.”

  “Tap me into your optics, Burke. I want to see what’s happening.”

  “Yes sir,” Burke replied. A moment later, the stream from Burke’s suit camera popped up on Bowie’s tactical display. He watched as the priest ran toward the trees, realizing that he was about to be caught in the sudden downpour. The priest’s instincts were good; the rain came out of nowhere, the clouds bursting to spill their water onto the ground below. The priest’s steps became splashes, and he had to lift his robe as his legs pumped beneath him. Neill and Crockett weren’t far behind, but they were far enough to have no available shelter nearby to shield them from the deluge that drenched them to the skin. Valero paid them no attention; he was single-minded in his goal. As he reached the center of the clearing, Father Valero came to a halt. With his arms raised above his head and his eyes closed, he appeared to be praying. So far Bowie had heard no movement reports from the tree-line over the comm net, and he hoped it stayed that way. The last thing he needed was a rescue situation on top of all the other mess he had to deal with.

  Father Valero opened his eyes, lowering his arms as he surveyed the sea of corpses surrounding him. Bowie couldn’t tell if it was rain or tears that washed over the man’s slicked cheeks, but if he had to bet, he’d wager it was both. There was pain in Father Valero’s eyes, deep and sincere, as he got moving again. With a cautious but determined stride, Father Valero drew ever closer to the trees.

  “I am sorry!” the priest shouted at the shadows in the woods. “We did not come here so that more could die! We came only to share the truth of life with you!”

  Bowie lost sight of the priest for a brief moment as Burke’s camera jerked to pan over the woods in front of where Father Valero stood. Feral, yellow eyes burned in the darkness. Bowie counted seven sets of them before Burke swept the view of his camera back onto the priest.

  “Get out of there, man,” Bowie whispered to himself, willing the priest to back away and return to The Sanctuary before it was too late.

  “We are all so sorry for what has been wrought here,” Father Valero yelled in a voice loud enough to be heard. “Let us end this bloodshed, here, tonight. The mines are yours. We surrender all claim to them. We seek only to know you and share the word of the Father with you!”

  One of the monsters emerged from the trees. It crept slowly toward the priest until it stood towering over him. The thing was nearly eight feet tall, all muscle and death. The downpour had slacked to a drizzle as the light of the stars began to seep through the clouds once more.

  Father Valero held his arms open in a gesture of peace as he stared at the hulking monster. It seemed to look upon him in confusion for the briefest of seconds, before it reared its head back and loosed a roar so inhuman that it made Bowie shiver inside his CASPer. Father Valero’s eyes went wide as the monster’s gaze fell upon him, and a snarl parted its thin lips to show the rows of razor-like teeth within its mouth. A gun fired from behind the priest. The shot missed the monster as lunged forward at Father Valero. In a single swipe, its claws removed most of the priest’s face in splash of red. Another gunshot rang out as a bullet struck the monster in its chest. The beast looked down at its chest; the shot had shattered its ribs and left a gaping hole where its heart should have been. The monster raised its head in an attempt to see its killer and then collapsed, sideways, into the mud of the field.

  The feed from Burke’s camera pulled back to show Commander Neill and Crockett. The two of them had nearly reached the center of the clearing before the monster had made its move. Neither of them had been close enough to catch up with Valero, and neither of them were close enough to grab him and haul his corpse back. With the Father clearly dead, they were high-tailing it back toward The Sanctuary as fast as they could run.

  “Your orders, sir?” Burke snapped at him as Bowie shut down the feed he had been watching from Burke’s suit.

  “If they reach the door before it’s closed, let those two idiots back inside,” Bowie growled. “Are the creatures pursuing them?”

  “Negative, sir,” Burke answered.

  “Thank God for that,” Bowie breathed a sigh of relief. He had no doubt that would change, and likely sooner rather than later, but the longer that passed before it happened, the longer he had to convince Travis that this contract was going to be the death of them all, and to persuade him to find them all a way off this fragging planet.

  * * *

  Neill and Crockett could hardly believe what had just happened. Neither of them had pegged Valero as a martyr. Then again, neither of them had suspected the real reason he had organized a trip to Durin II in the first place. Conversion. The word could easily have applied to units of weights and measures instead of souls. Was it possible these fiends could have something as human as a soul? Valero had been convinced enough he’d given up his life for the cause. It was the kind of dedication most men no longer had.

  Although it went against everything they both believed in, they left Valero where he fell. He was dead, and there was no bringing him back. That didn’t mean they had to die, too. There were still plenty of men who were alive they could save. Still, neither relished the thought of leaving the priest to rot. He needed to be brought back, given a proper burial, and afforded the same respect as any of the fallen soldiers who had died on this rock. It would have to wait.

  The Sanctuary looked like it was a million miles away, a multi-hued speck on the horizon. As they ran back, they could see the hulking CASPer suits clustered on the walls, guns ready to fire should the monsters launch a second wave of attacks. The sight was reassuring, given the things that waited in the forest behind them, no doubt plotting their next wave of bloodshed.

  Each step closer to The Sanctuary was one step further from the mountain devils, and one step closer to the mercs in their CASPer suits. Neill and Crockett couldn’t get back fast enough. The Sanctuary was still lit up and vibrant, shining in the wilderness like a jewel, but it no longer seemed like a safe place, nor did it seem to shine quite as brightly. Valero had taken the light with him. He had been th
e heart of this place. Without him, there seemed to be no real purpose for being here. The mission was his. The plan was his. The conviction behind it was his. Now that he was gone, all of those things were gone too.

  “Do you think those things are as smart as Valero gave them credit for?” Neill asked Crockett as they neared The Sanctuary gates. “Is such a thing possible?”

  “I think we’ve all underestimated their abilities,” Crockett said. “Their attacks are coordinated in a way. When one attacks, they all attack. When one retreats, they all retreat. These aren’t stupid monsters. I don’t know if they’re capable of planning strategy like we are, if they mourn their own, or if they bury their dead. But they ain’t dumb. We shouldn’t underestimate them.”

  Neill sighed. “I guess I might react the same way if someone started coming into my home and turning things upside down. They didn’t ask us to come here.”

  “Valero invaded Durin II,” Crockett said.

  “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Neill asked.

  “Is it?” Crockett said. “Maybe he didn’t invade with guns, war machines, or CASPers, but he invaded all the same. He came to conquer these creatures in the name of his faith. His reasons were just, but his methods may have needed a little reexamining. That’s one reason I tried to warn him. But he was thinking in terms of souls and damnation, not in simpler terms of leaving well enough alone or watching it come back to bite him. He invaded this place with good intentions, and now we’re walking on the road to Hell he paved for all of us.”

  Neill chewed on that for a moment before responding. It was clear he was wrestling with something in his head. “If they’re so intelligent, and we’re the ones who have put them on the defensive, should we continue to fight? Or should we just pull up stakes and leave? Now that Valero is dead, we have the ability to decide whether we go forward or not.”

  The massive gates to The Sanctuary slowly opened before them as they got close enough to enter the mining town. The CASPers that greeted them had their guns at the ready and lifted them as a chorus of screeching and wailing rose up from the forest behind them. Neill and Crockett whirled to see the source of the noise, and immediately realized what all the commotion was about.

  Several of the monsters had darted out from the cover of the forest, seized Father Valero’s body, and dragged it back, claiming it as a trophy. They held the bloody priest high over their heads, raising him in victory, displaying him to their brothers as a spoil of war. The monsters roared at the sight of Valero, making guttural sounds of victory as they retreated deeper into the cover of the forest.

  “God help us,” Neill gasped.

  Crockett grunted and turned to Neill. “I guess I didn’t answer your question from a moment ago, but I think I can now. Should we just leave them be, head out on our merry way, and wash our hands of this whole bloody mess? We probably should, but somehow, I don’t think that’s an option now. The fact that they grabbed Valero’s corpse to use as a tool for morale means they’re something much worse than intelligent. They’re also vindictive. I don’t think they’re going to just let us skip out of here without paying for what we’ve done to their home and to their brothers. If we leave here at all, we’ll leave by stepping over the corpses of hundreds, if not thousands, of the nasty devils. Get ready, Neill. I think the worst is yet to come.”

  * * *

  Hours had passed since Father Valero’s death at the hands of the monsters. Bowie watched the distant tree line with the vigilance of a hawk. Every member of the Marauders, except for Colonel Travis, the command center staff, and a few techs were positioned along the walls. The night was quiet, and the rain had long stopped, leaving the conditions right for a thin fog that shifted and whirled across the surface of Durin II, like the ghosts of the fallen dead. Dim starlight pierced the remaining clouds, shining down upon the hundreds of alien corpses surrounding The Sanctuary. Despite the heavy losses the creatures had suffered in their first attack, Bowie knew they would be back. Everyone in the Marauders did. It was only a matter of time, and that time appeared to be up. The woods across the clearing from The Sanctuary’s walls were filled with the creatures. Their shrieks and angry cries rang out as they prepared to storm the colony again.

  Bowie knew that Colonel Travis would be watching everything from the command center near the colony’s spaceport, and would cut into the comm net with orders if he felt the need. For now, though, Bowie was the senior officer on the wall and in overall command.

  “Steady,” Bowie cautioned his fellow Marauders. “Everyone hold your fire until I give the order to open up. I have a feeling we’re about to light this thing up like Christmas.”

  In the inky blackness beneath the forest canopy, it was impossible to tell how many of the monsters there were waiting. Hundreds of yellow cat-eyes blazed brightly in the darkness like candle flames, and a strange chattering sound rose and fell, like a chant of some sort that had melody and cadence.

  This time was different than the last time. Before, there had been no preparation, only the attack. There had been no sense of planning, of cold calculation, of singing dark death songs—only a rush of teeth and claws and the stench of burnt powder from the guns that cut them down.

  This time would be the last time.

  The skies were hazy, and clouds obscured the lights from all the stars, leaving things darker than normal. Abruptly, the chattering sounds that might have been the monsters’ version of a war chorus stopped. Without any further warning, the creatures came streaming out of the trees toward the colony. Thousands of scaled, black forms raced across the clearing. Their numbers appeared endless. Claws and teeth bared in vicious snarls gleamed in the starlight. It was like a dam had burst, and the flood that was rushing toward The Sanctuary was one of teeth, claws, and savagery.

  “All CASPers, light them up!” Bowie shouted, bringing his suit’s shoulder-mounted rocket launcher online. He emptied it in a single volley. The monsters were so tightly clustered as they ran toward The Sanctuary that it was impossible to miss them. The rockets from his CASPer hit the forward line of the creatures’ charge, exploding in flashes of fire and light. Dozens of the monsters died in the blasts, their bodies ripped apart, raining gore onto those behind them.

  CASPers on every side of The Sanctuary were firing as well. Explosions rocked the clearing, lighting up the night like the Fourth of July. Hundreds upon hundreds of the creatures were slaughtered, but it wasn’t enough. Bowie watched in horror as the creatures’ charge wasn’t slowed a bit. They streamed from the woods in an uninterrupted barrage, pouring out of the forest in a continuous onslaught.

  “Marauders!” Bowie screamed over the comm net. “Fire at will!”

  MACs and heavy belt-fed machine guns chattered, pouring fire into the ranks of the creatures. Bowie saw one of the monsters he targeted take so many rounds to the chest that its upper body blew apart in an explosion of blood and bone. His stream of fire swept over those around it, ravaging them as well.

  The infantry troops near where his CASPer stood on the northern wall were hunkered against its top, rifle butts pressed to their shoulders as they emptied their weapons into the horde of advancing creatures. More of the devils continued to emerge from the distant trees to replace those that had fallen. In all his years as a merc, Bowie had never seen anything like the battle raging around The Sanctuary. For the time being, it was a one-sided massacre—but he knew that would change.

  Despite all the firepower being rained onto the horde of creatures, some of them were beginning to make it through the Marauders’ kill zone and reach The Sanctuary’s walls. They dug into it with their claws, scaling it with impossible speed.

  The CASPers that still had missiles or rockets couldn’t use them against the ones in close, so they fired on the creatures who were more distant, trying to thin their numbers before they joined the ones already climbing upwards.

  Dark forms slithered up The Sanctuary’s walls and began to come over them. Bowie saw one
of the monsters hurl itself over the top of the wall near where his CASPer stood. It came up to the right of two infantrymen, and they spun about to meet it.

  The closest was in the process of reloading his rifle when the monster’s claws removed his head from his shoulders in a spray of blood. His body toppled from the wall as the creature sprang at the second infantry trooper. The second trooper was ready for it, and the creature’s body jerked about and danced wildly as his bullets ripped gaping holes in its chest.

  One of the monsters came over the wall at Bowie as his CASPer’s gun ran dry. He popped the blade on his suit’s right arm, and it flashed in the starlight as he slashed outward to impale the monster. It gave a final shriek as the blade pierced its heart.

  Bowie shook the corpse free and took a step backward. The advantage the CASPers had over the monsters was gone now that the things were entering melee range. He took one final look at the utter devastation the CASPers had wrought. Thousands of the creatures had been killed, but the tables were turning, and fast. The narrow space on top of the wall limited the movement of the CASPers, and if they didn’t get off the wall quickly, it was likely to mean their deaths.

  “Fall back!” Bowie ordered. “Abandon the wall!”

  Even as he gave the order, he watched one of the monsters come over the wall at a CASPer positioned to his left. The monster slammed into the mobile suit, its claws sparking against the CASPer’s armor. The monster’s weight and the force of the impact sent the CASPer and the monster clinging to it careening from the wall to thud into the ground below.

  “Oh, frag me!” Bowie heard a trooper shouting over the comm net, “They’ve torn through the main door!”

  Bowie’s CASPer leaped from the top of the wall, its heavy feet crashing to the ground near the main door of The Sanctuary’s northern side.

  “Everyone fall back!” Bowie shouted over his CASPer’s comm. “Rally at the center of The Sanctuary!”