“General?” She ducked down low as gunfire came in through the breach, “General Greer?”
She passed several bodies and finally found the General. She was burnt down the one side of her face and neck and had trouble breathing, as she lay flat on the floor. Sommer looked around for help, but none was coming. She picked up the General, took her to the stairway, and passed her to the ammo drones.
“Take her to the medics, now!”
They carefully took her off her hands. She looked in a bad way, but there was nothing more Sommer could do for her.
I don’t want to die here!
She kept repeating it in her head as she ran up the next flight of stairs. The floor opened up, as it was completely open plan. The whole of Turan’s platoon were fighting from the open windows and holes in the structure. Three of the Krys soldiers lay dead. Babacan spotted her as he ducked back into cover to reload.
“Lieutenant,” he said with hopefully, soon realising just how little hope there was from the emptiness in her eyes and the cold expression on her face. He rushed to her side. Maybe there was a chance of some good news.
“Where is Jones?”
“He is here, in body at least.”
“He will not fight with us?”
“The Captain barely even knows who he is. I don’t think he even believes everything he is seeing is real. He is lost.”
“No, he is not, nothing is lost.”
“Look at it!” she screamed and pointed out through one of the breaches at the thousands of Amitads approaching them. It seemed an unstoppable horde, and they could see many more transports bringing bigger numbers in the distance.
“General Greer is hurt real bad. I don’t think she’ll make it,” she said, dropping to her knees in utter despair.
Babacan didn’t know what to say. It was dawning on him that they were running out of options.
* * *
Jones was knocked aside and barely kept his footing as two medics pushed past him. He constantly turned and looked at all the faces of the dead and wounded as if looking for something and never finding it. Finally, he stopped as he thought he recognised one a doctor was working on, and her gaze met with his.
“Captain Jones?” she asked in a quiet and pained voice.
She reached out a hand, and he took it. She gripped tightly.
“Captain, you have come,” she said in a hopeful tone.
“General Greer?” he asked, finally recognising her.
“Yes, it’s good to have you back, Captain.”
He shook his head.
“I…I am not back. I shouldn’t even be here. I can’t do this.”
“Of course you can. That is why you came. They need you.”
He reluctantly shook his head again and let go of her hand. He slowly collapsed back onto his butt and leaned against one of the medical tables.
“No, not me. I can’t do it. I shouldn’t even be here,” he said. His pulse began to rise, and he started sweating because of the stress.
General Greer would not give up. She stretched out her hand as if to reach for him. The doctor tried to stop her as he treated the wounds on her torso, but she pushed him aside and climbed off her bed.
“You have plenty more patients who need your help, Doctor,” she declared.
“But, Sir.”
“But nothing, go!”
The doctor was reluctant to move, but another medic soon called on him for assistance, and he went on. Greer stood over Jones and put out her hand. He didn’t want to look at it.
“Captain Jones, get on your feet. That is an order,” she declared with as much authority as she could muster.
He looked into her eyes as if something had snapped in his head, and he couldn’t help but do as she said. He took her hand and was hauled to his feet. It hurt her badly to do so, but she refused to sit back down and kept hold of his hand.
“Captain Jones, Colonel Taylor is MIA. There are few pieces of news I could hear worse than that, but now we are at that place. I am unable to perform my duties, and now it falls to you. You are the finest officer Taylor knows in this lifetime. He told me so himself. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him now, would you?”
Jones thoughts turned entirely to his friend and how much he owed him.
“This fight is on you now. It’s your command. Don’t let this city fall. Don’t let these people fall. Fight for them, and fight for Colonel Taylor.”
Her hand slipped from his, and she collapsed to the ground. Jones dropped down beside her as his instincts kicked in.
“Medic! Medic! Help!” he cried uncontrollably.
She was still conscious, but she was fading fast.
“Taylor gave everything for you, me, and all of them. Don’t let it all be for nothing, Captain. Fight, until you can fight no more, and never forget him.”
The words struck a nerve within him. More than anything he didn’t want to let Taylor down, whether he was still alive or not. As Greer lay bleeding in his arms, it dawned on him.
It is real, all of it. I am among friends, and I have lost too many already.
“Go to them, Captain. Lead them.”
The doctor reached her as she faded into unconsciousness.
“Don’t you let her die!” he roared.
He leaned down and picked up is rifle from the floor as he looked to the building ahead. Tracer streamed to and from it from every floor as the battle raged on, and the Amitads were two hundreds metres away. He growled in anger at the suffering of his people, and he felt the bitter hatred of their foul enemy burn deep as he was reminded of Bolormaa and all that she had done.
CHAPTER 12
Babacan peered out through a breach in the wall. Hundreds more Morohtan warriors were forming up behind the cannon fodder waves of Amitads. A dozen Gurvs were being pulled up in cages ready to release upon them. Artillery strikes and aerial bombardments were still landing amongst them, but it wasn’t doing enough.
“I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up. Turan and the others will fight to the death, but I fear that time will be soon. What do we do?”
She had no idea. She had never felt more lost or distraught. They needed Taylor. They needed his unwavering willpower and strength.
“Sommer? What do we do?”
She looked lost. All she could think was that they were about to die. Not in any grand act or to achieve anything great, but because they couldn’t hold back the hordes any longer.
“Jones!” said Babacan.
“Jones is done. He is finished. He is no good to us anymore,” she replied without even looking at him.
“No, there!”
Before Sommer could turn around, she heard his voice echo around the room.
“Form up!” he boomed.
She clapped eyes on him and smiled. He was a different man to the one she had left outside, his body language and his face.
“He’s back,” she said, as she felt a tear drop down her cheek.
She could barely believe it.
“Captain, we have enemy forces closing in large number, and we have no support coming our way.”
Jones strode up to the opening beside Babacan to survey the scene for himself. He lifted up his rifle to use the magnifying scope on top and looked around at everything before him.
“Turan, get an AT rifle over here now!” he ordered.
Turan took the rifle off of one of his own people and rushed to Jones.
“You see the dome on top of that building there?”
It was a small target, no bigger than a small car atop one of the buildings in the distance. It matched the colour of the structure perfectly so that it looked like it should be there. Turan looked confused.
“Yes, Captain,” he replied.
“Take it out for me.”
Turan didn’t understand why, but neither did he ask questions.
“What is it?” Sommer asked.
“Morohtan communications hub. They control everything for several ki
lometres around from that thing.”
Sommer looked surprised, but he quickly explained.
“When you spend time with the enemy, you learn some things about how they operate.”
Turan took aim with the huge weapon that was intended to punch holes in sizeable armoured vehicles. He pulled the trigger as Jones watched through his sight. The shell landed almost perfectly centre, and the dome exploded immediately on impact.
“Nice shot,” said Jones.
Sommer was just shaking her head in disbelief. Jones was back. She didn’t know how or why, but she didn’t care.
“For a while at least, they’ll be in chaos. Give them a taste of how we have felt so many times. Lieutenant Sommer, form up the Regiment at ground level, and prepare to advance.”
“Sir?’
“We are taking the fight to them.”
* * *
Taylor had waited in his cell for a whole day since he last fought. As every moment went by, he expected to be once more dragged into the arena to have to kill or be killed. He put on a brave face but wondered how much more he could take. A slot in the floor of his cell door slid open, and a bowl was thrown in. It slid along the floor and stopped almost a metre away from him. It was full of a sloppy food that looked just as unappetizing as they’d served aboard the ship’s mess.
It was the first food he had seen since he arrived. He wondered for a moment if it were a trick. Was Cakir trying to poison him? But then he couldn’t afford not to eat it. He’d expended all his energy fighting in the arena. If he didn’t eat soon, his energy would be completely depleted, and he would die anyway. He had to scoop the food out with his hands. It smelt awful, and it was degrading, but no more so than being treated like a slave, just as he had been.
He finished it quickly, and it didn’t sit well on his stomach. He was getting worse. His body ached all over, and many of his cuts were not healing, as they opened up during each fight. Every time he felt the stinging pain of each and every one of them. As he finished, he heard footsteps and watched his cage door open. Two large Krys warriors stepped inside. They were armed with firearms as if he posed enough of a threat that they were required, and that made him smile.
“Who’s the monster you fear now, huh?” he asked them.
As he expected, they were not who had come to see him. Cakir stepped through moments later; after they were satisfied Taylor had been made safe. He stood up slowly, and the two guards closed in around their Lord, but he brushed them off as if he had no need of them. Taylor stood tall and proud, in defiance of the Krys who fancied himself a Lord.
“Your crowd enjoying their little show?” he asked to bait Cakir.
He stepped up to Taylor and punched him hard in the gut. Taylor gasped as he felt the air come out of him, but he was soon upright and glaring at the creature with bitter hatred and a cast iron will to keep fighting.
“Didn’t exactly go to plan out there, did it?” Taylor smiled.
“I let my hatred of you get the better of me. A mistake I will not make a second time. You fought dishonourably like a savage animal. Next time you will not be so lucky.”
Taylor just laughed in response.
“You’re a sore loser, aren’t ya?”
Cakir had no words for him, but he was fuming inside.
“That’s right. You can’t kill me now, can you? You can’t put me down in the dark of the night while nobody is looking. You had that chance, and you should have taken it, but now your people expect more. They expect you to step up, but you haven’t got what it takes. I’d say you’re in quite the tight spot.”
“Says the man who is locked up and has no allies left in this universe.”
“I have allies. Better, I have friends. And they’ll come for you soon enough, assuming you live that long. Whether it’s me or your own people, you’re gonna be torn apart.”
Cakir punched him to the stomach once more as if hoping for some response, but Taylor didn’t lift a finger to stop him. He dropped down to one knee from the pain, but he laughed again out loud.
“The great Cakir who can’t beat a human in a fist fight. That’s a story for the ages!’
Cakir stormed out of the room, Taylor’s incessant laughter ringing in his ears. Taylor could see it was eating away at him, and that was reason enough to keep him going. Deep down he hoped someone would come for him soon, but who?
Irala has gone. Alita, too, and Jones is a shadow of his former self. Am I all alone now?
He prayed that wasn’t the case. He needed his friends now more than ever and didn’t want to die here. He hadn’t thought for a moment that he would ever die at the hands of anyone but Bolormaa or one of her Princes. This couldn’t be the end, he kept telling himself that. He kept thinking back to the wrecked mental state of Jones after he had been rescued. He was determined to not end up like that.
I have no doubt I will get out of here, but I just have to make sure I stay sane.
* * *
Artillery shells soared overhead from both sides as Jones strolled up and down the lines with Sommer close by his side. She still couldn’t believe it was happening. She knew she should be scared, but she was still overcome by the euphoria of having Jones back among them. He activated his comms so that the whole Regiment would hear his words as he walked among them. He was a changed man.
“This is Captain Jones. Colonel Taylor left me in charge around here, and I am sorry that I have been missing all this time, but all that matters is that I am back now. I am here to fight with you. I am here to deliver a message; one that Taylor would give you were he here to do so. We are through digging in and holding ground. We didn’t come here to lose. We came to take back the land that is rightfully ours. I won’t let those disgusting creatures walk over our city any longer, and I don’t expect you to either. We aren’t holding back anymore. We aren’t hunkering down and hoping we might live another day. It’s time to take the fight to them. So don’t hold back. Give them all you’ve got, and remind them why this world will always be ours.”
He climbed over the defences and activated his shield. He was standing in plain view of the enemy, and yet somehow not a single shot came his way. He made no attempt to hide or cower down.
“It’s time to take back what is ours. We fight for Taylor, and then we’ll go and get him back. Follow me!”
They began to clamber out of the trench works, but he had already reached a running pace as the first of them climbed over the crest. Gunfire flashed all around as Sommer tried to catch up. There was no fear in her heart. Her pulse was racing with excitement. She didn’t know how she could keep putting one foot in front of the other, but she was sprinting like it was the most important thing in her life. Jones opened fire as he ran, and they all soon joined in. A volley of fire from the tower to their flank rained down on the enemy and provided a helping of cover for their advance, as they rushed across an almost open plain of debris.
The only shelter were the dips and troughs where artillery had rained down, and the mounds of debris where buildings had once stood. They were fifty metres from the Amitads in what seemed like no time at all. Bodies lay scattered all around, and they were started to reek, even more than the foul creatures normally did. She fired accurately as she could at the quick pace they were keeping, but soon ran empty.
Shots bounced from her shield, and she had no way to reload anytime soon. Jones had already let his rifle drop to his side and drawn his pistol, keeping up the fire as they closed. She followed suit. They reached just ten metres away when Sommer emptied the last of her magazine into the nearest creature, blowing the back of its head off.
She thought back to her kill with the Assegai the other night and wanted to treasure such another moment, watching the enemy die up close and personal. That’s what this was to her now, deeply personal. They had done this to Jones, and it had taken a lot to get him back. She wasn’t going to let him go anytime soon. She holstered her pistol and smashed into an Amitad with her shield, drew her As
segai, and thrust it into the next with all her strength.
Jones was fighting like a man possessed, thrusting from one side to another, and kicking others to the ground. He struck one in the knee with the edge of his shield, and the creature fell head first onto his Assegai. He cast it off with both hands, and it flew several metres and landed on two of its own. He was on them in seconds, stabbing them on the ground before they could recover. In the distance they could see Amitads cast aside by something smashing through them like a snowplough. Bodies flew both sides like ragdolls, and they could just make out the head of a Gurv rushing towards them. Jones simply ran towards it, smashing his way through the enemy as though he couldn't get to it soon enough.
"Wait!" Sommer shouted.
The Gurvs terrified her, as their strength seemed insurmountable. She was ten metres behind Jones when they caught sight of one another, but still Jones did not slow. He ran at the beast and darted to one side, thrusting his Assegai with absolute precision into its eye socket as he went past. The Gurv roared in pain but kept on going right for Sommer. She was frozen solid in terror. The creature was trying to turn, but it began to slide in the rubble and drift towards her.
The exact moment it was about to strike, Turan and Babacan appeared beside her. They locked shields and braced against the beast. It crashed to a halt, and the Amitad riders were thrown several metres over the top and into the rest of the Krys behind them. Then they thrust into the creature’s underbelly time and time again before it could recover. Sommer knelt down and delivered the final blow as she thrust into its neck up to the hilt.
A bright light flashed in the sky as though something had jumped inside the atmosphere. Then they saw a small aircraft thundering towards the ground at high speed.
Battle Beyond Earth - Box Set (Books 6-9) Page 18