by Fleet, Ricky
“They’re already saddled,” Gerrard shouted in reply.
Frowning, she continued to stroke the back of the unicorn until her hand came up against newly appeared hard leather.
“How do they keep doing that?”
Andy shrugged. “It’s all in our mind.”
“Ride with me?” she asked.
“I haven’t ridden in years. Well, centuries when you think about it. To hell with it, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“Exactly!” Slipping a foot in the stirrup, Zip flipped her leg over and secured the other on the opposite side of the saddle.
Patting it on the shoulder, she noticed the lump of bone for the first time. Tracing the curve of the joint under the body, she leaned sideways and saw the layers of feathers tucked neatly beneath its body.
“No!”
Gerrard laughed, a melodic sound of pure happiness. “Oh yes!”
“You’re shitting me,” Andy added to the conversation.
“Mr Chan insisted on it as you rebuked his offer of dragons. You may need to buckle yourself in a little tighter, though.”
Reaching behind, they retrieved the thick straps and secured them through the buckle.
“What about the bridles?”
“They don’t like them,” Gerrard explained. “Take hold of their manes, you won’t hurt them.”
Gathering up the lush hair, Andy and Zip didn’t even need to squeeze their legs to urge the unicorns forward. Starting off at a brisk walk, they quickly started to canter. When they reached a full gallop, huge wings unfurled and stretched out. Folding towards the body, they thrust upwards and outwards. Dropping with a heavy swoosh, the hooves lifted from the ground. The wings continued their powerful movement, lifting them higher and higher above the stunning landscape. Rolling dunes, emerald leafed palm trees, schools of fish swimming in the clear ocean. The crisp wind buffeted Zip’s dark hair and tears streaked her cheeks. Andy found himself overcome with the same emotion. For now, at least, they were beyond fear.
Chapter 25
“Well folks, today’s the day.”
Bateman stood facing them in his battle-scarred training Mech. The multitude of deep furrows in the metal left the new recruits under no illusion that what was coming was real. And dangerous.
“Your suit is fully functional except for the grenade launcher, for obvious reasons. We can’t have the stability of the facility undermined. It could put every single person in the outpost at risk.”
“How many will we be fighting, sir?” Andy asked.
“Between five and eight thousand.”
“Holy shit.”
“It might seem like a lot for the five of us, but the idea is that we’re under pressure. It would be pointless having a turkey shoot; we might as well just use the dummies.”
“What if they overwhelm us?”
“I’m counting on it. It’s part of the training.”
“We really could die in here then?”
“Of embarrassment, yes. You’re not in any real danger but don’t get complacent. The suits have a sensor layer built into the armour. If the creatures penetrate that deeply the countermeasures come into play.”
“Guns and flamethrowers?”
“No, a fast-acting poison is pumped in to the cave system.”
“Won’t that kill the host?”
“No. The training area is set up with a series of reinforced doors which are hermetically sealed.”
“Like those?” Bob said, pointing to the massive rollers.
“No, sturdier than these,” Bateman replied, slapping the thick metal with his massive palm. “The host, queen, whatever you want to call it, hides in the deepest part of the cavern. Then there’s a door, twelve-inch thick pure Jajovium; completely impenetrable to the human mutants. When her majesty has given birth to a few hundred gibbering monstrosities, we herd them into the second area until they reach a suitable number to fight. It’s kind of like a holding pen for infected. It holds thousands, but as I said earlier the number can vary.”
“What then?”
“Thirdly, we have our arena, or the fighting pit as I like to call it. That is central to the underground complex. A couple of square miles of caves and tunnels to kick ass.”
“Will we fit in the smaller places?”
“We won’t need to. They’ll come at us like a fucking wave of horror. It’s like your basic weapons training. There’s no moving from barricade to barricade under covering fire. They don’t give a shit how many of their friends get cut to shreds as long as they can sink their teeth into us.”
“In a way it makes it easier then,” suggested Bob.
“It does. But it’s the overwhelming numbers that gives them the advantage. When we get attacked, I want everyone to stay calm and watch each other’s backs. The piston spikes will help with close contact, but they have a thirty second window to retract and re-prime. Use your arm blades where possible.”
“Sir, I was meaning to ask about the blades. I noticed they weren’t part of the battle suit in the video we watched.”
Bateman’s sigh could be heard over comms. “No, they weren’t. It was only after the wolves sucker punched us with their newfound lupine cooperation that we added them as part of the protective measures. We always seem to be playing catch-up after getting our asses handed to us.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“That’s life, soldier. Moving on. If you get in real trouble, and I mean about to die trouble, the suits are resistant to normal bullets. In those circumstances you can risk a few shots to clear a particularly bothersome group.”
“What about the explosive tips?”
“Out in the real world, the Mech system deactivates them as soon as the barrel is pointing towards one of your teammates. It ensures there’s no chance of a friendly fire with explosive ordnance. In here, you’re using standard tipped slugs, or we’d risk bringing the whole thing down on our heads. It’s the same reason for the ban on adaptive grenade rounds, sure it’d be fun, but I prefer eating pancakes to becoming one.”
“Good to know.”
Bob halted them. “Wait, you get pancakes, sir?”
“It was figure of speech, Fletcher. Calm down.”
“Damn.”
To his rear, the bulbs surrounding the huge elevator doors turned green. Rumbling open, the five Mechs clomped in and lined up. Bateman had been through this more times than he could count and started to whistle merrily to himself. Andy and the others were a little less confident and performed full system diagnostics as the cab descended. Anything to keep their minds occupied. Unknown to them, Bateman was privy to their actions. This would be the first time he hadn’t needed to prompt a team to carry out the perfunctory checks before battle. He grinned inside the cockpit and resumed the awful, tuneless whistling.
“T minus ten seconds until elevator doors open,” Bateman informed them.
Coming to a grinding halt, the doors trundled open to reveal a large holding area, similar to the entrance to the training facility. What separated the two was the differing array of weapons on sentry duty. The flamethrower pilot lights fluttered, and the heavy machine guns watched. Between the more mundane countermeasures were what could only be described as cannons. The Howitzer size barrels moved, aiming directly at the cockpits.
“Move forward and prepare for bio scan,” came the familiar computer voice.
The soldiers complied and stood on the marked positions, the deadly attention of the safety system never wavering. The same light bloomed from the scanners and checked their vital signs.
“Sir, why the big guns?” asked Andy.
“They’re Mech killers, son. If, God forbid, one of us came out of there infected, the standard guns are useless. The armour piercing shells are designed to penetrate our suits and explode before we could get out.”
“What about the gunk that’s going to be all over us?”
“Look up, soldier.”
Huge sprinklers were spaced
four feet apart above their heads, the pipes running into a sealed duct to the side of the lift shaft.
“Water?”
“Not quite. It’s a special solution that dissolves organic matter but not metal. We go through a full cleanse before we’re allowed to ascend back to civilisation.”
“I hope the suit doesn’t leak then.”
“We haven’t had a leaky suit for months.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“Bio scan, negative. You may proceed,” ordered the voice.
“Right squad, we have one more room to go through and then the shit hits the fan. It’s a chance for final prep, but you’ve already done that on the way down. We’ll quickly get the scan out of the way and then it’s time to rock and roll. Is everyone ready?”
“Ready, sir.”
“Is it too late to ask for an administrative position, sir?” asked Bob.
“I’m afraid so. As useful as you’d be riding a desk, Fletcher, you’re more useful to us destroying the infected. Move out!”
The second room was identical to the first except for the missing elevator doors. The system checked their vitals for the final time and red light blazed into life, flashing a warning of the impending live fire exercise.
“It’s party time!”
Massive doors rolled open and dozens of mutants were already lying in wait. Caught by surprise, the trainees gasped and raised their weapons. Only Bateman marched forward unperturbed. Hydraulics whined as the flamethrowers whirled on the threat, hosing the entrance down with liquid fire. Forced back by the heat, those that could flee ran shrieking back into the darkness. The less fortunate gurgled as their flesh melted.
“Save your ammo. There’s always a welcoming committee,” Bateman stated nonchalantly, stepping through the conflagration and crushing the collapsed, bubbling bodies.
Forming up on the other side of the door, they took in the surroundings. Part of the subterranean complex was natural, while other signs pointed to human interaction. Excavation marks from heavy machinery were gouged into the rockface. Thick steel stanchions held portions of the cavern in place. Andy would ask about it later. For now, the steadily increasing roar from thousands of approaching enemies had his attention.
“We have two choices. We can get our backs to the wall and fight from there, or we can move into the centre ground and get into a real fight.”
Without hesitation the others changed to full responsiveness and ran for the centre. Resetting back to combat readiness, they formed a circle and waited.
Screams of pandemonium peaked. From every cave mouth and ragged nook poured the vile spawn of the brood mother. Twisted bodies, red eyes, slavering mouths with rows of vicious fangs, fingers tipped by thick, yellow claws. Bounding across the ground like animals, more yet swarmed from the darkness, diverting to climb the rock faces like spiders.
“Focus fire on the cave roof! We hold off on the ground forces until they’re on our ass!”
Several hundred had already fanned out above, covering the grey rock like a mobile, fleshy blanket. Bullets wrought havoc among the climbers, tearing through bodies and sending them mewling in agony to the unforgiving ground below. Hefty chunks of the disturbed stone crumbled at the latest assault, adding their crushing weight to the mix. With a dull rumble, a massive slab of granite peeled away from the roof, crashing on top of the already dazed mutants, killing hundreds.
“Careful troops, I didn’t realise it was so unstable. Move back and target the ground forces, we’ll deal with the fuckers above when they drop on us.”
The confusion served to delay the horde converging on the group for a few valuable seconds. While stepping over their bloody, shattered kin and forged through the blinding dust, the Mechs took up position by the still smouldering entrance. Any hint of being weakened by the losses was quickly forgotten when they emerged from the cloying brown cloud, bloodlust in full ascendency.
“Let ‘em have it!” Bateman yelled.
Five streams of high calibre ammunition ripped through the crowd, shredding flesh and splintering bone. The infected changed tactic, leaping from outcrop to outcrop, bouncing around like Mexican jumping beans on a hot skillet.
“They’re tricky bastards,” Bob roared, cutting two down in mid-air.
“Target the biggest concentrations, ignore the hoppers!”
“Aye, sir!”
Spreading their forces out, mutants encircled the Mechs and surged forward. Thousands were dead or dying, trying to wriggle free of the pinning rock or stand up on legs that were no longer attached. If they could smell through the suits it would be a rotten amalgam of altered blood, excrement, and burned meat.
“This is it! The final push! We go toe to toe!”
Dropping the gun arms, they took a step back and twisted them in readiness, exposing razor edges. As one, Mech arms swung in a wide arc, slashing through the closest ranks. Heads, arms, and torsos were sundered, separate parts bouncing on the ground.
“Fuck!” Andy yelled. A small number had fallen from the ceiling, slamming into him at the same time as the wave of ground-based horrors hit.
Forced back by the power of the blow, the Mechs were driven against the door. It minimised their exposure to the rear, while at the same time making it harder to strike out. The creatures wasted no time, pinning them in with superior numbers.
“We need to get clear of the doors or they’ll just claw at us until our suits give!”
Bateman was close to aborting the exercise. Whoever had passed the structure as sound was going to get their ass handed to them when he got out of the exercise. Hell, he might even send them down without a fucking Mech suit!
“As one! Push!” Andy grunted, taking the initiative. He’d never run from a fight, and this wasn’t going to be any different.
Placing one foot against the shutter, he used the incredible Mech strength to drive the chaotic crush backwards a few feet. Following Andy’s lead, the others did the same. Finally, able to move his left arm, Andy reached up and grabbed the two horrors hammering against his visor plate. Squeezing with every pound of available pressure, their bodies burst like ripe watermelons, soaking him with viscera. Bob took advantage, hacking out wildly with both arms, cleaving through the abominations like a hot knife through butter. The empty space to the rear filled up with infected like a dam had broken. Completely surrounded, the sounds of claws raking at the joints in their suits was deafening.
“Deploy spikes!”
Issuing the command, the wickedly sharp rods burst from the apertures with a hiss-thunk. Ran through in limbs, torsos, and heads, the attackers flopped weakly as their life fluids drained onto the floor. A protracted sigh of retracting pneumatics withdrew the spears and the impaled dead fell away, holed like bloody Swiss cheese.
“Hold the ground, we’ve got incoming from above!” Bateman urged, strafing the undamaged portion of roof with gunfire.
Trying to dodge the relentless barrage, the infected frantically looked around at their brethren plummeting to their doom, wounds spraying blood. Seeing nowhere to go, the remaining mutants dropped from their lofty perches to join the fray. A tipping point had been reached and the ferocity of the assault was waning. Leaving formation, the soldiers let out some pent-up rage. Clenched fists hammered into soft, yielding bodies. Bones crumbled to dust from the blows. Organs ruptured, the creatures coughing up gouts of crimson. Bob was picking them up one at a time, sawing through writhing forms without urgency, relishing their suffering. As they fell to the floor in two or more pieces, he would chase down another.
“You’re a sick puppy, Bob,” chuckled Bateman, hacking apart the last of the enemy.
“Just putting the fear of God into the Godless, sir.”
“I like that.”
“Is that it, sir?” asked Andy, scanning the destruction.
“We need to perform a sweep and make sure most of them are dead.”
“Only most?”
“We can’t get them all. The clea
n-up team enjoy a bit of excitement now and again.”
“What do they do with the bodies?”
“They just drag them in to the washdown. A few hours and you wouldn’t know there were thousands of infected in here. The gloop is then neutralised of cleaning liquid and fed back into the nest where the cycle begins again.”
“They eat themselves?” Bob said.
“Technically they drink themselves. A minute ago, you were filleting them alive.”
“Still…” Bob continued with evident disgust, a retch carrying over the comms.
“Sir, we have a few here,” Andy said, seeing the collapsed rock shift.
“Let’s put them out of their misery,” Bateman replied.
Andy’s Mech moved into position. Ducking slightly, he opened fire into the void. Whatever was trapped beneath was torn to shreds by the rebounding slugs. Repeating the process around the edge of the fifty-foot-wide slab, they were watchful of the unstable roof above. Apart from a few loose chips dropping down, it seemed the deeper rock was still quite solid. Regardless, a full survey would be carried out before any more training was undertaken. And someone was getting their jaw broken. Or at the very least, a bloody nose, Bateman thought angrily. Let them put him on reprimand, they weren’t the ones fighting in the fucking pits.
“I think we’re clear, sir.”
“I agree. Move to decontamination.”
“How do we know if our suit’s going to leak?” Bob asked warily.
“I was joking, Fletcher. Don’t sweat it.”
“How did we do, sir?”
“Magnificently. You adapted to the changing situation and didn’t panic.”
“We had a good teacher,” Cassie declared.
“Don’t blow smoke up my ass. You were a formidable force today. I’ve seen lesser squads crumble from less than that.”
“Good to know.”
Passing through the open door, the Mechs lined up, saturated armour streaming with gore. A clear liquid started to rain down from above, pattering against the metal. The audible hiss carried over the speakers and they watched as the taint was scoured away, fizzing and bubbling as it was liquefied. Passing through the countermeasures, they weren’t shot by the huge guns and they all breathed a sigh of relief.