Eden's Exodus (Plague Wars Series Book 3)
Page 22
Chapter 31
Misgana slowly and quietly pulled his men from the rest of the perimeter during the night and gathered everyone on the south side of the mountain. The remainder of the food had been handed out and consumed. Although it wasn’t much, for people subsisting on starvation rations it was a feast.
What weapons they had were gathered and given to Misgana’s men with military experience. They would not lead the human wave, but would serve as a combination rearguard and reserve.
Skull sat on a rocky vantage point and watched the Edens gather quietly in the wan, cloudy moonlight. He’d already sighted in his sniper rifle and adjusted the settings for current temperature and humidity.
He still found it odd to see the various generations gathered together. The ingrained relationships still applied – mother, father, grandfather, grandmother, uncle, aunt, children – yet all of the adults appeared to be in their mid-twenties. It was often possible to spot an elder by the fact that they still carried a walking stick or staff that they no longer needed.
Misgana seemed to be everywhere at once. Husnia may be the spiritual heart of the group, Skull thought, but Misgana is the driving force. He knew that the man they called Captain would lead the human wave. He was a natural commander. No one had to tell him the proper place to be.
Skull watched as Misgana’s daughter Jemmia ran up to him. The Ethiopian appeared to initially admonish her for not staying with the other children, and then he squatted down to take her into his arms. He spoke to her face to face while occasionally wiping her cheeks. They embraced again and she slowly walked away to the relative safety of the caves with the other children. Her father watched her until she was out of sight.
Misgana talked to the people, directing them to form up. Within minutes, he had created ten lines arranged one behind the other. Each stretched more than five hundred persons wide across the side of the mountain.
Walking out in front of his “troops,” Misgana placed his right hand over his heart and the other in the air. The people returned this salute to him.
Then he dropped his hand and turned slowly to face downhill and began to descend.
The first line followed him almost immediately. Skull could see Zinabu near the far left edge. He hurried carefully down the steep rocky mountainside, keeping ahead of the line he bounded. The people were obviously helped by their improved Eden night vision but still moved with care.
As ordered, the second line waited until the first was approximately ten yards in front before they began to jog downhill.
Skull noticed that each line had one “officer” in the middle that gave the signal to go forward. The men and women of each line looked toward this man until he waved his arms and started jogging downhill. Then the whole line moved, trying to stay even with him.
Within moments, all ten lines moved down the mountainside. The people in front were jogging once they reached the gentler grade at the base of the mountain.
That’s when Skull first began to hear the high-pitched wail of many voices. It started with the first line and moved up to the others as they ran forward. Soon, the others took up the cry.
“So much for the element of surprise,” muttered Skull, lying down behind his Barrett. He looked through his scope and saw the first Edens approaching the Ethiopian lines. Soldiers had begun running here and there, firing from the hip or diving into defensive positions, but the space directly in front of the Edens appeared unusually open and thin.
The clouds above suddenly parted and a bright full moon illuminated the scene. He saw some Edens in the front line fall as they were struck by Ethiopian bullets. Most slowly climbed back to their feet and continued.
Skull sighted along the Ethiopian positions and picked out an officer directing the defense. He laid the crosshairs on the man’s chest and slowly squeezed the trigger. The rifle boomed at his shoulder and the man was nearly cut in half by the .50 caliber bullet. Looking through the crosshairs, he took out another, and then another.
Then Skull heard the telltale chattering of a crew-served machine gun and searched until he found it. Letting his breath out, he killed the gunner, and then the loader. Looking up and down the enemy positions, he put a bullet into anyone who appeared to be in charge or who was firing effectively.
When the first wave struck the Ethiopian lines, Skull could see hand-to-hand combat along a wide swath of ground. Edens were tearing and biting at the soldiers, who shot them from point-blank range. Troops rushed toward the sound of combat from the flanks, but the second wave of Edens slammed into the fight and the Ethiopian line dissolved into chaos.
Skull shifted his gaze across the assaulting waves to see children following behind, led by Husnia and a few other women. The armed rearguard spread out behind these, waiting.
The melee down below became too closely tangled for Skull to risk a shot. Instead, he shifted to picking off those soldiers racing to intervene from the flanks, forcing them to fall back and take cover. Once they’d been checked by fear, Skull put on his pack and grabbed his rifle before climbing farther down the slope.
He stopped occasionally to take shots as they presented themselves, automatically keeping track of the number to annotate on the butt of his rifle later. He’d just fired and was preparing to move again when something caught his eye.
Muzzle flashes, far to the rear of the enemy lines.
He looked farther back, on a hill far behind the fighting, and saw movement and the stuttering pops of rifle fire. Staring hard through his scope, he picked out at least eight people, maybe more. The ones he could see were Caucasian, except for one of the men. All carried carbines and were dressed in civilian bush clothing. They appeared to be pinning down the soldiers in front of them.
Skull shook his head and said aloud, “This is your rescue team, Spooky? A dozen mercs? Well, at least they aren’t getting in the way.”
He chuckled and looked back toward the battle. All resistance had dissolved, except for a few soldiers on the flanks, taking potshots but apparently afraid to advance. Disarmed, beaten troops writhed on the ground in pain or lay still. Some sat stunned, or staggered around in confusion.
There were also a few Edens on the ground not moving, though not many. Those able began to move south again, helping the wounded, and the children were all making their way down the hillside, grouped around Husnia and her attendants. Skull looked farther back and saw the armed rearguard coming down the hill.
Chuckling in amazement, Skull turned to gaze back down the slope. I can’t believe this is actually working, he thought. Through his scope, he saw Misgana reorganizing and directing his people. They were looting food from the fallen soldiers and clumping back into groups. The Edens began to shout and leap, raising their hands in the air in thanksgiving.
“You dumb shits. It’s not over.” Skull put the scope back to his eye and took a snapshot at a group of at least forty fresh Ethiopian soldiers advancing from the eastern flank, weapons ready. This caused them to begin firing at nothing, but they didn’t stop, driven on by several officers and NCOs behind them.
Skull yelled at the rearguard, the ones with weapons, pointing at the oncoming enemy. The Eden troops began firing from their elevated position, and the Ethiopian soldiers ground to a halt and began to shoot back. Skull joined in, picking off as many as he could, but behind the enemy platoon he could see two more advancing, at least a hundred men.
Instead of running, Misgana rallied his people, who seemed elated, high on victory, and led them charging toward the soldiers. Skull had seen this happen in combat, when a berserker spirit overcame troops who had won against the odds, making them feel invincible.
Five or six hundred unarmed, screaming men and women ran toward the leading enemy platoon, who fell back when faced with this new threat. As soon as they reached their reinforcing line, though, they turned back and over a hundred fifty assault rifles began to mow the Edens down.
Skull fired as fast as he could, but he was only one man, an
d part of a sniper’s effectiveness comes from the terror of the sudden, implacable death. His targets could only see the wave of Edens in front of them, and so hardly noticed when they died here and there.
Skull saw Misgana suddenly fall to the earth. Those around him looked down at the man and reached to pull him up and then stopped.
“Get up, dammit,” he said to himself.
Misgana continued to lie on the ground. Those around him lifted him, but he didn’t rise.
“Get up,” said Skull again, shifting his aim and taking another shot.
The Edens carried Misgana forward like a totem, but Skull could see that most of the man’s head was gone.
Chapter 32
Reaper and her team soon wounded or drove off all the soldiers within effective range, so she called her people back together on the hilltop. They watched in amazement as wave upon wave of Edens crashed into the Ethiopian soldiers and overwhelmed them. They either fell under the swarm of biting Edens or ran as fast as they could away from them.
“Listen,” said Hawkeye, looking upward. “You hear that?”
“What?” asked Reaper.
“Heavy rifle fire. That’s a Barrett. I’d know it anywhere.”
“It’s just an echo off the rocks. There’s lots of rifle shots right now,” said Bunny.
“No,” said Hawkeye, “listen for the careful deliberate fire. That’s a sniper up on the mountain.”
“I’ve heard Skull is a sniper,” Reaper said.
“Hell,” said Hawkeye. “To call Skull a sniper is like calling Mozart a piano player. Skull is the sniper of all snipers. He’s one of the best.”
“Regardless,” said Reaper, “we need to link up with him.”
“Without him shooting us in the process,” added Shortfuse.
“Do you see him?” Reaper asked Hawkeye.
“I see his muzzle flashes. Look up near that big gray rock shaped like a giant finger. He’s just to the right of that under a bush.”
Watching, she saw a foot-long flame spurt, highly visible in the darkness.
“Shortfuse, Tarzan, you come with me,” she said. “I’ll go try to link up with him. The rest of you stay here. Hawkeye’s in charge.”
“Shouldn’t we move forward and try to help the Edens?” Bunny said.
“No. Too much could go wrong. They don’t know you and they might react badly. Besides, they’re heading your way anyway. And, more Ethiopian troops could show up at any time and catch you in the open. Here, you have cover and the high ground. You seven can fight off a platoon of these punks.”
“Go on, boss,” Hawkeye said. “We’ll hold this lane open. All you gotta do is get them moving past us and we’ll provide overwatch.”
Reaper led the two men carefully across the edge of the battlefield, trying to stay out of everyone’s way while angling toward Skull’s position. She blessed the bright moon and hoped to hell he would look closely before shooting.
Fleeing soldiers still crossed their path, but they didn’t seem interested in anything other than escape, and the three crouched and let them pass. Reaching the edge of the flat, they began climbing up toward where they had seen the sniper flashes. Reaper picked up the pace, not wanting to miss him if he changed positions.
About a hundred yards from the spot, she stopped and turned to Shortfuse and Tarzan. “You two stay here and cover me. He’ll be less likely to take a snapshot if it’s just one of us approaching him, and a woman.”
Shortfuse obviously didn’t like it, but he nodded sharply. Reaper crept forward, staying low but not attempting to hide from anyone to her front. The position had gone silent, without muzzle flashes. By the time she was twenty feet away she knew he was no longer there.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” said a voice to her right.
Reaper looked up to see a lean dark man with a sniper rifle slung over his back. He stood behind another large rock with an MP5 pointed at her.
“You must be Skull,” she said.
He tilted his head slightly. “And you?”
“Jill Repeth,” she said. “Staff Sergeant, U.S. Marine Corps...well, used to be. FC spec ops now, I guess.”
“Devil dog,” he said with a smile, stepping farther out of the shadows. “Me too. I’m sure that isn’t a coincidence. One of Spooky’s many mind games. He probably figures I’ll be less likely to kill a fellow Marine if I had to. He’d be wrong, of course, but at least I’d feel bad about it.”
Reaper recognized Skull from the photograph in the dossier she’d seen before departing. Spooky had warned her about the man and directed she pay attention to the psych eval.
A sharp intellect with introverted tendencies and an overwhelming drive to excel and win, the paper had read. Resists human interaction or emotional attachments.
It had gone on to report that intense guilt and untreated PTSD had brought on symptoms of a borderline personality disorder.
What the hell did psychiatrists know? Alan Denham is a marine and a warrior just like me, she thought. He’s also here when he doesn’t have to be, helping these people. Screw the docs and their bullshit diagnoses.
“That’s far enough,” said Skull, pointing a pistol with his other hand in the direction she had come.
Reaper looked over to see Shortfuse frozen, a look of chagrin on his face.
“That’s Shortfuse, my demo guy,” said Reaper, slinging her carbine and holding her hands up. We’re all on the same team here.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Skull. “I’m not on any team, and knowing who you work for means I certainly can’t trust you.”
“Spooky? He sent us to help you.”
Skull snorted. “I’m sure he sent you. Why? Only he knows. When he believes you’re no longer useful to him, he won’t hesitate to eliminate you.”
“Do you think that’s what’s happening here?” Reaper asked. “Because even though he sent us, it seems to me like he’s been putting speed bumps in our way the whole time.”
Skull grinned without humor. “This would be a perfectly good opportunity to get rid of me, wouldn’t it? Then he wouldn’t have to pay me the rest of what he owes me.”
“Pay you? You’re a mercenary?”
Skull laughed. “I’m a guy that had to be given an incentive, because I won’t fall into line with Spooky’s every whim. I’m not even an Eden like the rest of you.”
Reaper waved her hand. “Look, we’re just here to get these refugees out. We’ve had a shitty time getting here, but now that we are, we intend to complete the mission. Time is short, so let’s cut this chitchat and make a decision. The rest of the Ethiopian army is converging on us. I came up here to coordinate with you, but we’re outta here in one minute.”
Skull looked down the mountain at the mass of Edens and lowered his weapons. “Okay. Let’s get them moving.”
“Right. We need to get the rest of the Edens running instead of fighting.” She pointed at the battlefield near where Misgana had died. “Those soldiers just slaughtered a bunch of Edens and drove off the rest. In about five minutes, they’ll start advancing again.” Shifting her gaze, she continued, “There’s most of the people, gathered around those children.”
Skull stared. “Idiots. They’re just standing there. We have to get them going.”
“I think I just said that.”
“How did you get here?” Skull asked.
“Trail through a mountain pass a few miles to the southwest. Leads over the border into Kenya.”
Skull looked in that direction. “Could we take the people through it?”
Reaper thought and shook her head. “Not that many. The path is too narrow. Single file only. When the Ethiopians arrive they’ll come up behind and chew us apart.”
“Then we have to push south on the main road and hope for the best,” said Skull. “Worst case, we make another human wave attack on the Kenyans at the border.”
“That’s not likely to get them sanctuary.”
“No,
” Skull admitted, “but it might keep them alive for another day.”
“Folks, I think we need to move,” said Shortfuse. “The people down there are starting to scatter.”
Skull looked down as if to confirm his words. The Edens were fanning out over the valley, looting what they could find, probably looking for food. The children were still in a group around Husnia, though, who was walking and holding hands with Jemmia.
“Follow me,” said Skull. He hurried down the hill at a breakneck pace, his long legs eating up the ground. Reaper and Shortfuse found it difficult to stay with him, though Tarzan’s athleticism kept him right behind.
Skull made it to Husnia and Jemmia before they reached the place a hundred yards past, where the men had laid Misgana’s body. From Husnia’s smile, it was plain that she hadn’t heard the news. “Call them back together. We have to go soon.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Husnia, examining Skull’s face.
He looked at Jemmia again and then back at Husnia. “It’s bad. He didn’t make it.”
“No,” said Husnia barely above a whisper.
Skull nodded. “Saw it happen; just a freak bullet.” He looked down at the girl. “She shouldn’t look. It’s not pretty.”
“I have to tell her, though,” Husnia said.
“Bad idea.”
“Even so.”
Skull shrugged.
Husnia nodded and took a deep breath. She squatted down in front of Jemmia and began talking to her.
Jemmia said a few words and began looking around in confusion before shaking her head as tears came. She began screaming and pulled free of Husnia’s arms, darting toward the pile of Eden bodies.
Reaper saw Skull step forward and catch her by the arm. She turned and lashed at him with her nails, laying open his cheek, but he picked her up and held her to him anyway, turning his face so she wouldn’t take out one of his eyes. Screaming and thrashing, she fought against him, but eventually stopped and simply sobbed.
When he thought it was safe to unshield his eyes, he walked over to place her in Husnia’s arms.