Crimson Fire (The Kurgan War Book 8)

by Richard Turner

  Sheridan leaped to his feet and yelled, “Run!”

  Kyrran repeated the word in Old Kurgan and sprinted across the open field, leading his people to the far side and safety.

  With his rifle tight in his shoulder, Sheridan scanned the night sky. One of two things were about to happen. A second drone would come to see what happened to its partner or a barrage was only seconds away.

  “Crap,” said Sheridan to himself when he heard the whistling sound of mortar bombs dropping from the heavens. He swung his rifle over his back and looked over his shoulder for his friends.

  The first rounds to hit landed in the open, killing an unlucky person. The next bombs, however, were far more accurate, taking out four or five Kurgans at a time. Panic swept the crowd. The villagers tossed what they couldn’t carry to the ground and fled for the far tree line.

  Sheridan hunched down and helped people who had fallen get to their feet so they could keep on running.

  “Michael!” screamed Tarina.

  Sheridan spotted his wife carrying two terrified children in her arms and ran to her side. He scooped up one of the kids, took Tarina by the hand, and sprinted away from the hellish inferno tearing the ground apart behind them.

  The night lit up with each bright orange explosion.

  Sheridan’s heart raced in his chest. He could see Kyrran standing at the entrance to a trail, urging his people to keep moving. Sheridan picked up his pace, and within seconds they were under the jungle canopy. He slowed down and then stopped.

  “Here,” said Sheridan, handing off the child to Tarina. “Carry on for another five hundred meters, and I’ll find you up there.”

  “What the hell are you going to do?”

  “Find the prince.”

  Sheridan turned and jogged back out into the open. He stood staring into the throng of terrified people running toward him, trying to spot either of the siblings. Smoke clung to the ground making it hard to see. His gut dropped when he couldn’t locate Kobak or Katin among the panic-stricken crowd.

  “Major!” screamed Katin at the top of her lungs, waving an arm in the air.

  Sheridan saw Katin and ran to her side. He felt a rush of relief and smiled when he saw a pained Kobak hobbling along with a child on his back and two others holding his hands. He pointed at the trail. “Five hundred meters. Move now!”

  “Let’s go, little brother,” said Katin, leading her brother away from the danger.

  Sheridan moved along the ragged line of civilians helping them to the safety of the jungle. Two minutes after it began, the shelling ended. A sickening moan emerged from the dark as wounded and dying Kurgans lay helpless in the open. Several Kurgans, covered in blood, staggered past Sheridan. A young warrior lay nearby holding a hand to his stomach, crying out for his mother.

  Kyrran and several warriors moved to where Sheridan was standing.

  “You can’t help them,” said Sheridan with a heavy heart to Kyrran. “The dying will soon be gone, and the severely wounded will only slow you down.”

  Kyrran canted his head. “Leave them?”

  Sheridan nodded and looked away, ashamed at the thought of deserting injured civilians.

  Kyrran cried out and shook his spear back toward his ruined city as if he were challenging Kordus to a fight to the death. When he was finished, Kyrran spun on his heel and jogged away from the field of misery.

  “Thank God you’re okay,” said Tarina to Sheridan when he caught up with his friends.

  He wrapped his arms around Tarina and gave her a long hug. Sheridan was learning that the only time he could find true peace was in the arms of the woman he loved.

  “How many people didn’t make it?” asked Katin.

  “I’d say about fifty,” replied Sheridan, letting go of his wife.

  “What happened?” asked Kobak. “How did they know to fire upon us?”

  “The drone I brought down had already sent our location back to Kordus’ soldiers. That’s why it fired on us. It was only a matter of time before they opened fire with their long-range mortars. If I hadn’t blown apart their drone, the soldiers manning the mortars could have used the live feed from the UAV and crept their bombardment along the open ground, killing hundreds of civilians as they ran for cover.”

  “Now they know where we are, what are we going to do?” asked Kobak.

  “We keep moving. If the enemy thought they had seen you, trust me, this forest would be flattened by now, along with you and your sister.”

  Tarina placed a hand on Sheridan’s arm. “What if Cole can’t sufficiently delay Kordus’ men, then what?”

  “If it comes to that, then we fight a battle we can’t possibly win in order to buy time for Kyrran’s forces to mass.”

  “When would you do that?” asked Katin.

  “At dawn, when Kordus’ men are tired and at their lowest ebb.”

  “How long until first light?” asked Tarina, looking up at the stars.

  “Probably not for another four hours,” responded Sheridan. “Plenty of time for us to put some distance between Kordus and us.”

  “Michael, you’re being overly optimistic,” said Tarina. “As time goes along, we’re getting slower, not faster, and there’s only so much Cole can do with thirty men—if he even has that many still alive with him.”

  “I know. I’ll speak with Kyrran and let him make the decision.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” asked Katin.

  “Yeah, it can’t hurt.”

  They walked past people asleep on the ground or propped up against the trees until Sheridan and Katin found Kyrran talking with a warrior neither had seen before.

  Kyrran through Katin introduced one of the leaders of a city to the north. Sheridan explained the predicament they were facing and suggested a hit-and-run attack at dawn on the head of the Chosen force to slow them. The new warrior insisted on sending one hundred of his finest men to attack the enemy.

  “Make sure you break contact with the enemy as soon as he goes to ground,” stressed Sheridan. “Speed will be the only thing keeping your warriors from being cut to ribbons.”

  Katin translated.

  “My men aren’t afraid to fight,” responded the warrior, beating his chest with his sword.

  Sheridan stepped close until he could see the young soldier’s eyes. “Afraid or not, you’ve never had to fight a foe armed with automatic rifles and the ability to rain death on you from the heavens. Give them a bloody nose and then get the hell out of there.”

  Kyrran and Katin made sure the warrior understood the message before he rushed off to pass the word.

  “Major, what do you think is going to happen when they meet at dawn?” asked Katin.

  “One hundred of that young warrior’s bravest men are going to be slaughtered, that’s what. But if it buys us an extra hour for Kyrran’s people to join him, then it won’t be a total waste.”

  “War is such a horrid thing,” said Katin.

  “It’s a good thing it is horrid, or we’d grow to like it, and that would be the end of all of us.” Sheridan looked over at Kyrran and pointed to the north. The young warrior nodded and barked at his soldiers to get everyone on their feet. There were many more hours of walking to do before the sun came up.

  Chapter 33

  A swarm of biting insects hung in the air over the jungle path. Soldiers cursed and swatted at their tormentors, but it didn’t matter. For every one they killed, ten more took its place.

  Kordus grumbled to himself. His ATV had floundered in the soupy mud that passed for a trail. To get the vehicle moving again everyone, except for the driver, had been forced to walk. Kordus had been on his feet for the past few hours slogging his way through the jungle and had yet to see a single native, but he had seen their handiwork. Soldiers walked past him with bloody bandages on their bodies. Booby traps laid on the narrow trails, toxic plants, and insects were beginning to take their toll on his Chosen soldiers. Kordus had already lost close to ten percent of his
fighting force and had yet to bring the enemy to battle.

  A thick, damp fog hung low in the jungle like a white blanket covering everything. Kordus noticed some of his men sitting down on the ground, eating their rations. His blood began to boil. He hadn’t given the order to stop. Kordus pushed a Chosen sergeant off the path and stormed forward until he found the unit’s commander, resting on a fallen tree.

  “Major Kuhlik, what the hell is going on here?” asked Kordus.

  Kuhlik stood. “Sir, the men have been on their feet for close to eighteen hours and are in desperate need of a break.”

  “I never gave the order for you to stop.”

  “No, sir, you didn’t. I did. If we don’t stop to allow the men to eat and change their wet socks for dry ones, you’re going to start to get more casualties than you already have. As the sun comes up and the humidity rises, these men will begin to drop from fatigue, heat prostration, dehydration, you name it. Thirty minutes of rest could be the difference between success and failure.”

  Kordus clenched his fists. Kuhlik was a combat veteran of the campaigns against the rebels and was probably right, but Kordus wasn’t going to let him know that. “Thirty minutes and not one second more, or you’ll have to answer to me, Major.”

  Kuhlik bowed his head. “I understand, sir.”

  “Major, I haven’t seen a single heavy machine gun or automatic grenade launcher among your men, why not?”

  “Sir, they were left behind on Colonel Keel’s orders.”

  Kordus’ right eye twitched. “Why would he give that order?”

  “Sir, they’re too heavy to carry. It takes five men to carry a single support weapon and its ammunition. If we’d brought them, we wouldn’t be where we are now. Besides, a jungle isn’t the place to use those weapons. Most engagements in an environment like this take place at ten meters or less.”

  “You had better be right, Major, or like Colonel Keel, you could be facing a disciplinary review once this mission is over.”

  “If that is my fate, then I will be in Lord Kurgan’s hands.”

  Kordus had heard enough. He turned to walk away when he heard a horn blare from somewhere inside the mist. Ice cold fear shot through Kordus’ veins. He saw a tall tree nearby and ran to it for cover.

  Kuhlik’s soldiers dropped their food, rushed to pick up their weapons, and stared wide-eyed into the fog.

  The jungle went eerily silent.

  Kordus’ breathing became ragged as he fumbled to pull his pistol from its holster.

  A primal cry from one hundred throats replaced the silence as a hail of arrows fell among the Chosen soldiers. Men screamed out in pain as the poison-tipped arrows dug into their skin.

  “Holdfast!” called out Kuhlik.

  The horn sounded again.

  Kordus wanted to run and hide, but he was too scared to move.

  A long line of native warriors charged out of the fog, brandishing their weapons in the air, and screaming at the top of their lungs.

  “Rapid fire!” yelled Kuhlik, firing his rifle into the howling mob.

  The next minute seemed to last for hours. Many of the warriors never made it more than a few paces out of the fog before being mowed down. Some, however, managed to make it into the Chosen ranks, and, with their swords, killed many a soldier before they too fell. Kuhlik was like a rock in a storm. He calmly encouraged his men to hold their ground while he fought one of the attackers in hand-to-hand combat, finishing his opponent off with a thrust of his bayonet to the native’s heart.

  The sound of mortar bombs whistling through the air signaled the beginning of the end. A split second later, explosions rocked the jungle less than fifty meters in front of Kuhlik’s soldiers.

  Kordus waited until the last round exploded before looking around to make sure no one was watching him. He stood and brushed the dirt from his armor. A shot rang out, making Kordus flinch. He looked over and watched as Chosen soldiers moved among the natives, finishing off the wounded.

  “Ten dead and thirteen wounded,” reported Kuhlik as he wiped the blood from his bayonet.”

  “What?” mumbled Kordus.

  “Our casualties, sir. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Yes, of course. How many enemy warriors did we kill?”

  “I won’t know for sure until my clearance patrol returns from sweeping the perimeter, but it looks like we killed close to a hundred of them.”

  “That’s good news. One hundred fewer natives to fight later.”

  “Sir, these people aren’t the same ones we’ve been following since we landed,” said Kuhlik. “They’re different.”

  “What do you mean different?”

  Kuhlik grabbed the warrior he’d dispatched and dragged the body to Kordus feet. “Look, sir, this native has black and gold paint on his face, and he’s wearing a bone earring in his right ear. These warriors have to be from another tribe.”

  Kordus thought back to Keel’s warning about more natives joining the fight and regretted his decision not to bring with him an additional battalion of soldiers. “Major, it is of no consequence where they come from, only that you and your men do your jobs.”

  “We know how to do our jobs, sir. What I’m concerned about is our ability to keep up this attritional struggle. Not only are we facing an ever-increasing number of hostile natives, but the jungle is causing its fair share of casualties as well. We may have the edge when it comes to firepower, but they can probably absorb their losses better than we can. The longer this tit-for-tat exchange carries on, the weaker we become and the stronger they become.”

  Kordus was growing tired of all the so-called professional officers telling him in thinly veiled speech that he didn’t know what he was doing. He stepped close and raised his voice. “Major, listen up, this will all be over before the sun sets later today. Send your wounded to the rear. If they can’t walk, leave them where they are to die and get your men ready to move. I want Prince Kobak’s head, and I want it now. Understand?”

  Kuhlik bowed. “Yes, sir. We will recommence our advance as soon as possible.”

  Kobak grunted and walked away. He waited until he was out of earshot of Kuhlik before calling for his security detail and a stripped-down, all-terrain vehicle to be brought forward. Kobak was tired of walking and wanted to rest his feet a while.

  Chapter 34

  As the sun crept higher in the sky, it warmed the ground, burning off the mist.

  Cole’s feet felt like they were going to fall off. He and the native warriors had been running for close to two hours without stopping. His small force had once numbered thirty, but now only eighteen remained. Some had run off or died in combat, while others, unable to keep up, had fallen behind. He wanted to be in place near the Chosen force’s landing site before eight in the morning.

  Cole felt a tap on his arm. He looked down and saw it was his youthful companion. “Yes?”

  The young hunter pointed to a break in the woods and then pointed down with his thumb.

  Cole slowed down and came to a walk to catch his breath. The few hand signals he had taught his comrade were paying off. The young man had just indicated that the enemy was just up ahead. Cole swept his hand by his side. The warriors with him saw the signal and dashed for cover, all except for the young hunter who stayed by Cole’s side.

  As quietly as they could, Cole and his companion crept to the edge of the trees and looked out. Less than fifty meters away was the Kurgan troop transport ship. Set up in a circle near the vessel were a small medical tent, the command post, and the Chosen mortar platoon. Cole judged there to be close to fifty Chosen and Kurgan soldiers in the local area, far too many for his tiny band to take on. He silently cursed his luck and tried to think of a way to even the odds.

  His colleague must have seen the troubled look on his face because he yanked on the sleeve of his uniform.

  “Yes?” mouthed Cole.

  The hunter tapped his chest and then pointed back to the jungle with his hand.<
br />
  Cole shrugged. He didn’t get it.

  Again, his comrade pointed back at the jungle.

  Cole shook his head.

  The young hunter bared his teeth and brought his hands up like claws.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” whispered Cole.

  His comrade saw he was understood and nodded.

  “I guess it’ll have to do,” said Cole. Not sure if his friend understood the concept of time, Cole pointed at the sun before raising his hand to a point just above the tallest of the city’s pyramids.

  The young hunter pointed to the sky and nodded.

  “Okay, good luck, and I’ll see you four hours from now,” said Cole, holding up four fingers.

  The hunter comprehended the meaning behind Cole’s words and nodded. With a wave at his comrades, the young man sprinted off into the jungle.

  Cole got comfortable on the ground and stared at the hospital tent, wondering if Wendy was inside. His heart was already cold; he pitied anyone who stood in his way when he went to rescue her. If she were dead, Cole knew there wasn’t enough Chosen blood on the moon he could spill before his thirst for revenge would be sated.

  Chapter 35

  The crack of small-arms fire combined with the dull crump from grenades echoed through the valley.

  Sheridan shook his head and clenched his fists. Another one hundred warriors were selling their lives in an effort to slow the advance of Kordus’ forces. So far only warriors from two of the four cities had arrived. Sheridan knew that unless the other warriors came soon, they would have to abandon the field and continue their withdrawal.

  Sheridan lay among the ruins of an ancient settlement built atop of a long slender hill which overlooked the valley and studied the terrain. To the right and left of the hill were trees with an open field in the middle, perfect for the destruction of the Chosen forces. The place of engagement was just as Kyrran had described, and Sheridan was loath to abandon it. Kurgan warriors hurried to prepare the position to resist the enemy. Trenches and redoubts made from the old stone buildings were made ready.