Burden of Sisyphus (Brink of Distinction book #1)

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Burden of Sisyphus (Brink of Distinction book #1) Page 18

by Jon Messenger

Vance, breaking from cover, ran up the ruined street, dodging the larger piles of rubble. The outpost was still ten blocks away—an incredible distance even with the way cleared by Halo’s bombing of the city. He fired a couple rounds at any Seque foolish enough to emerge from the alleyways along his path.

  The loss of the alpha male left a void in the Seques’ hierarchy and made them hesitate as their prey ran past, but Vance knew it wouldn’t last. He and his soldiers took advantage of the opening to cover a lot of distance toward the military structure.

  The group labored during the run. Smoke still hung like a blanket over the city, stinging their lungs as they rushed for safety. The smoke, a combination of concrete dust and ash from still smoldering plasma, watered Vance’s eyes. Tears streamed unwillingly from his eyes, leaving tracks down his soot-covered cheeks before pooling in his beard.

  After they ran for nearly three blocks, the Seques finally broke from their stupor. At first only one or two broke from alleys or leaped from rooftops to impede the escaping soldiers. Though resilient, a steady hail of gunfire brought the more daring Seques down, leaving them writhing in pain on the ground. Steadily, however, more and more Seques attacked the group’s fringes.

  Without stopping, Vance cringed as he heard screams of surprise and pain as his soldiers were attacked and killed by the monsters.

  “Ainj,” he called into the radio over the din of gunfire and screams, “we need cover fire. I don’t care how bad a view you have through the smoke, find a scope setting that’ll penetrate the smoke and start firing.”

  He ran on, waiting for sniper fire that never came. “Ainj, do you copy?”

  Atop a skyscraper, a Seque clamped its jaws on the thigh of the body under it, planting a clawed hand on the abdomen for leverage, and tore a strip of bloody meat from the corpse. Slurping, it sucked down the dripping meat and sunk its head down again, its razor-sharp teeth ripping into the exposed stomach.

  The Seque looked up as a distant voice called out.

  “Ainj, are you alive?”

  It spoke in a language the Seque didn’t understand. It tipped its head in confusion.

  Pushing the corpse aside, it stalked across the roof, searching for the source of the sound. Sniffing the air, it glanced back and forth, unable to locate it.

  After a brief pause, the voice rang out again.

  “Answer me, Ainj. Tell me you’re alive.”

  The Seque finally located the noise near the edge of the building. Near the lip of the roof a voice spoke from a discarded headset and speaker. Sniffing the radio, the Seque flicked its hand and sent the headset cascading off the top of the roof. Turning away, the beast returned to its meal.

  Vance cursed and kept running, firing at the growing group of Seques emerging from all side streets to block their way. Without Ainj, one of their best aces in the hole was gone. Vance felt their chances slipping away like grains of sand in an hourglass. He pushed on, praying they’d make it to the safety of the outpost.

  The group of soldiers, which began their spring for safety in a tight group, slowly spread out as the stronger runners outdistanced their slower teammates. Vance, Decker, Dallis, Yen, and Eza kept pace at the head of the group but Vance was concerned about Ixibas and Tusque, who lumbered slowly near the rear of the pack.

  Seques broke from cover halfway through the group. Covering long distances in their pounces, the monsters landed on a trio of infantry soldiers, burying fangs and claws into their soft flesh. A lone Seque charged into the midst of the runners, bowling over two before wrapping itself around a third.

  Both soldier and Seque slammed into the wall of a building across the street. Already on its feet, the Seque unleashed a brutal flurry of teeth and claws, stripping away the protective armor and mauling the doomed Uligart.

  Tusque and Ixibas slid to a halt as the Seques separated them from their teammates. More monsters spread out in the widening gap, cutting the two cover-operations soldiers and their small band of infantry from those still running for safety.

  Raising weapons, the soldiers unloaded a deadly barrage at the Seques, killing three. For every one that fell, however, another emerged from the side streets to take its place. A scream from behind alerted the duo to trouble. Monsters filled the streets behind them, finally catching their elusive prey.

  As Tusque turned toward the new threat, he realized his mistake as one of the Seques separating the two groups launched itself high into the air. It came down on Tusque, raking his back with its claws. As he rolled aside, it sank its teeth into his calf.

  Vance heard a deep rumbling scream that could only come from the throat of an Oterian. Stopping briefly, he turned and saw the group had become separated. To his dismay, two of his teammates were lost on the far side of the widening void, made only larger by the masses of Seques filling the gap.

  “We have to help them.” Vance pulled out a grenade and tossed it into the midst of the advancing creatures. The explosion tossed the Seques aside, leaving smoking corpses face down on the sidewalk.

  Eza grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. “We can’t do anything for them.” His frustration was obvious as drops of green blood fell from his ax. “I want retribution as much as you do, but this isn’t the time or place for an epic last stand.”

  Vance stared for a second longer and then Yen ran past him.

  “They’re coming from everywhere,” Yen said. “If we don’t move now, they’ll trap us again.”

  Looking back with disappointment and deep sadness, Vance turned back toward the outpost and ran. Four blocks ahead he saw the sturdy fence and rising stone walls of the military compound. The front wall was damaged, collapsed either from an assault by the Seques or Halo’s cluster bombs. The way to the central building was clear, but that wasn’t what Vance wanted.

  Located on the building’s exterior, guarding both sides of the door and at nearly every corner of the structure, mounted turret guns were set to open fire on any creature that didn’t emit an Alliance ID code. Implanted in every soldier’s arm was a small microchip that emitted the correct frequency. If the group could get close enough to the building, the turret guns would activate and start eliminating any Seques that came close enough while simultaneously avoiding hitting Vance’s men. It was their last chance for survival.

  “I’m out!” Decker said, his voice panicky.

  Vance broke his determined stare at the outpost and looked at his fellow Pilgrim.

  Decker pulled the magazine from his rifle and tossed it angrily to the street. “I’m completely out of ammo.”

  Reaching into the pouches in the front of his body armor, Vance took one of his last two magazines and tossed it to him. “I’m almost out too. Make every shot count.”

  Sweat seeped into Vance’s eyes, blurring his vision. Even in the cool twilight he was sweating profusely after running so long in full armor. His pounding heart and the adrenalin coursing through his veins weren’t helping matters. Still, the outpost loomed in the distance, just a short sprint away.

  “Push it!” he shouted. “We’re almost there!”

  They were close but they lost many men to get there. Three platoons were decimated. He didn’t have time to check at the moment but Vance was certain any survivors of the initial assault had been hunted down and killed. Of his own group he had two remaining team members, Decker, Dallis, and a small handful of infantry. Though he refused to voice his concerns, Vance wasn't sure reaching the outpost would make any difference. Even the turret guns’ ammunition was limited, while there seemed to be a nearly endless supply of Seques destroying the city. Still, with the compound so close, he pushed on harder than ever.

  As they ran the last block, nearly all of them low on ammunition; Vance saw relief flooding the men’s faces. They reached the rubble of the collapsed wall and scrambled over it, an army of Seques on their heels.

  As the beasts scaled and bounded over the crumbled wall, Vance heard gears whir. The two turret guns rose from their resting positio
ns, taking aim at the new threat. As the barrels spun, fire leaped from both ends of the weapons, as massive-caliber slugs tore through the Seques’ thick hides. Green blood sprayed in sheets. Dozens of the monsters were cut down in the opening barrages and those that followed slipped in their counterparts’ blood before being gunned down next.

  The survivors let out a ragged cheer before collapsing in exhaustion. Even Vance doubled over with his hands on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. He allowed himself a faint smile as the Seques began hesitating after watching so many of their ilk killed so quickly by the perimeter defenses.

  Reaching the outpost bought them a little more time to think, plan, and find a way off the planet. Vance had to assume that the Seques had the outpost surrounded. That didn’t mean transports couldn’t land within the compound during an emergency evacuation. Once he was inside he’d pull up the schematics for the base and call Goliath.

  While lost in his plans for escape, he noticed an absence of noise, a haunting drop in gunfire that left him feeling exposed. Though it seemed unlikely, he wondered if the turret guns were already running out of ammunition. If the Seques tried to breach the outpost before, it was possible the guns had been firing intermittently for some time, draining the belts of ammunition. If that were the case, the survivors wouldn’t have much time before the Seques returned.

  He turned toward the weapons, expecting them to be resting with their barrels down, the common position once they stopped firing or expended their rounds. Instead, the weapons whirred back and forth, scanning the group of soldiers who hid and caught their breath on the other side of the outer wall. Vance’s confusion caught Dallis’ eye, who supported an infantryman who coughed hoarsely, his lungs burning from exertion.

  Dallis looked back and shrugged, unable to explain the weapons. Without warning, the guns fired again. The Uligart commander and the solider he supported vanished in red mist as the high-caliber rounds dismembered the Alliance troops.

  Blood splashed the soldiers seeking refuge near the pair. Vance’s instincts took over and he slid behind a pile of nearby rubble. He heard the guns change trajectories again and another soldier screamed before his body was shredded by the high-velocity rounds.

  The remaining members dived for cover as rounds rained down, splitting the stones they hid behind and showering flecks of debris on the petrified soldiers.

  Vance lowered his visor and switched the monitor. Invariably, all surviving members of the group emitted their ID codes. The invisible pulses registered on his visor, rolling like concentric circles from each forearm.

  “Why are they firing on us?” Yen shouted, his words barely audible over the constant hum of the automatic defenses.

  Vance didn’t even try to answer. There was no reason for the guns to fire on them. Their signals were still strong. He didn’t believe the automated system could make a mistake between a Seque and one of the soldiers. It was too complex for such a simple mistake. There was no reason for the guns to fire on them unless they were reprogrammed.

  Vance shook his head, not eager to follow that line of thought. If they were reprogrammed, that meant someone betrayed four platoons of Alliance soldiers. If there was a traitor among them, turret guns ahead, and Seques waiting hungrily behind them, the survivors were doomed.

 

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