by P. A. Piatt
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Six
Explosions rocked the jungle behind the right flank of the test tubes.
Nesbitt and the mercenaries shouted and prodded the artificial soldiers to take cover, but many of them looked around for the source of the explosions and died as a result. At first, Nesbitt thought the grenades were just poorly aimed, but after the second salvo, he suspected there was more to it. He charged ahead of the test tube lines to get a first-hand look at the ISMC compound and nearly ran headlong into a bunch of bugs.
That’s what they’re up to!
Nesbitt turned and ran back to the front lines of the test tube formation.
“Follow me!” he shouted and waved his arms as he turned for the left flank. One of the mercenaries ran up to him.
“Nesbitt, what’s going on?”
“Get these guys to the left flank! The Marines turned the swarm and it’s headed this way!”
The mercenaries on the right flank took their lead from Nesbitt and got the test tubes moving, but the swarm had already collided with the test tube front. Wild machinegun fire echoed through the jungle and mixed with the excited buzz of the insect swarm. Nesbitt took a last look over his shoulder as he ran for the left flank and saw the unstoppable mass of bugs engulf hundreds of test tubes.
He got to the lead elements of the left flank and located the mercenary in command.
“The Space Marines turned the swarm and it’s chewing up the right flank,” he told the man in a rush. “Get your troops moving and charge the compound!”
* * *
Bullets smacked into the sandbag sides of the position atop the command mech and pinged off the vehicle. The initial burst of gunfire from the jungle surprised the Space Marines, but they rallied quickly and returned fire.
Fortis struggled to get out from under Hawkins, but Hawkins wouldn’t let him.
“Gunny, come on, get off me.”
He shoved the gunnery sergeant off and sat up.
“Gunny!”
He pulled Hawkins into a sitting position and saw blood leaking from under his helmet. Fortis removed Hawkins’ helmet and fiery bile rose in his throat.
A round had hit Hawkins at the base of his skull, in the gap between his armor and helmet. There was no exit wound, but his face was a purple, swollen mess. His left eye had been blown out and dangled on his cheek by the optic nerve. Blood leaked from his nose and mouth, and it was obvious he was dead.
For a long moment, Fortis sat with Hawkins’ head cradled in his lap, numb to the battle raging below him. His death seemed so random and unfair, and the brutal inequity of it left Fortis numb.
A sudden thought shocked him.
Had the gunnery sergeant not tackled Fortis when the firing began, the round that had killed Hawkins would have hit the lieutenant.
Gunny Hawkins gave his life to save mine.
Suddenly, his feeling of random unfairness vanished, replaced by white-hot rage at the people responsible for the death of a Space Marine like Hawkins.
Those fuckers will pay.
Fortis gently lowered the dead man’s head and turned to retrieve his rifle where he’d dropped it.
Lily charged up the sandbag stairs and dove for cover.
“Hey, LT—oh shit. Is he dead?”
Fortis nodded. “He saved my life.”
“He was a good Marine, sir, but we’ve got a big problem.” He pointed toward the eastern perimeter. “Look!”
Fortis peered over the sandbags and his blood turned to ice. Hundreds of test tubes were charging out of the jungle, firing from the hip. The Space Marines fired and reloaded as fast as they could, but the artificial soldiers continued to advance. They were only a few meters from the first line of Space Marine fighting positions.
“Mechs One, Two, and Three, reload grenades and give them another salvo. All stations, this is Fortis. Pop smokes and withdraw to the western perimeter. That’s our rally point.”
* * *
The scene behind the test tube lines was total chaos. Ystremski encountered small groups of soldiers heading in all directions, and he spent more time on his belly hiding than he did on his feet. Finally, he gave up his search for the far-left flank and moved to the rear. Just as he was sure he was clear, loud voices drove him under some thick bushes.
“I don’t give a damn how many we lose!” one of the voices shouted. “We need every test tube to press forward to overrun the base.”
“Sir, half the right flank got separated when the bugs swarmed the jungle. They’re either dead or scattered all over the jungle.”
Ystremski peeked out in time to see a large man shaking a huge fist in a smaller man’s face. He recognized him as one of the GRC executives that Fortis had met when they visited the GRC compound.
What the hell was his name? Nibblet? Noppet?
“Well, go get them!”
“Will do, Nesbitt.” The smaller man saluted and ran off to the north
Nesbitt. That’s it.
Ystremski stood up from his hiding place and leveled his rifle at the hulking mercenary’s head. Nesbitt turned and saw Ystremski, and his look was one of total surprise.
“Fuck you, Nesbitt.”
Ystremski squeezed the trigger.
Click.
* * *
Fortis bounded down the sandbag stairs and threw open the door to the command mech. Inside, he found Trenas and Strickland hunched over the console controlling the drones. He stuck his head through the hatch and saw Weinberg helping Chou to his feet. On the table behind Weinberg where Kilfoy had lain, he saw a sheet had been pulled up over her head. Weinberg followed his eyes and frowned.
“I couldn’t help her, sir. I couldn’t stop the infection.”
Kilfoy’s death was a punch to the gut, but Fortis shook it off.
“We’re being overrun,” he shouted so both compartments could hear. “I’ve ordered everyone to withdraw to the western perimeter. Trenas, can you move this thing?”
“Corporal Arthur is in the cockpit, LT. We’re ready to go when Doc is.”
“I’m good,” replied Weinberg.
“Let’s move out!”
Fortis ran back outside and onto the roof. Lily was still there, throwing smoke grenades and firing blindly toward the advancing test tubes. He had dragged Hawkins’ body to one side and put his helmet back on.
“Hang on,” Fortis told him as he took cover. “We’re going for a ride.”
A thick pall of smoke blanketed the eastern side of the compound as the Space Marines withdrew. Fortis noted with satisfaction that they conducted an orderly withdrawal, leapfrogging from position to position as they covered each other with suppressing fire and fresh smoke grenades. Fallen Marines dotted the compound, and Fortis saw more than one Marine risk his own life to drag a wounded comrade to safety.
The test tube advance stalled for a moment, and the Space Marines seized the opportunity to collect weapons and ammunition and consolidate their position along the western perimeter.
The insect swarm had disappeared into the jungle northeast of the compound, and Fortis hoped they were still actively advancing on the test tubes.
“All mechs, this is Fortis. Fire a full salvo of grenades due east of the base at maximum range. Let’s see if we can get the bugs to chew on their asses.”
Somewhere to the east was the other Marine patrol, but they were probably dead, killed by the test tubes or the big swarm. At least, that’s what Fortis told himself when he ordered the fresh grenade salvo.
The command mech roared to life and lurched into motion. Fortis lost his balance and tumbled onto Lily. The pair scrambled to their knees in time to see the other mechs launch grenades that climbed high in the air before disappearing into the smoke beyond.
The volume of fire picked up as the smoke screen cleared, and the test tubes continued their assault. They charged into the outer ring of fighting holes on the eastern perimeter, continuing their advance. The Space Marines met them w
ith withering fire.
The command mech squealed to a stop alongside the other three mechs just inside the western perimeter and Fortis chanced a look at the Space Marines deployed around them. He did a quick count and was shocked to find only about forty remained.
“How many guys do you think we have left?” he shouted to Lily over the roar of automatic rifle fire. Lily poked his head up and surveyed their position.
“Looks like fifty, maybe less,” he called back. He looked over the sandbag wall at the attacking test tubes. “There’s still a shitload of them, though.”
Lily rested his rifle on the top of the sandbags, took careful aim, and squeezed off a shot.
“Kill the guys in black,” he told Fortis. “Those are the mercenary leaders.”
A burst of machinegun fire stitched a path along the top of the sandbags, and the two men ducked for cover.
“All stations, this is Fortis. Concentrate your fire on anyone wearing black. Those are the human mercenaries.”
Fortis peeked over the top in time to see several hundred test tubes break from cover and run into the clearing. More of them followed, and they fired into the jungle behind them. Just then, the bug swarm erupted from the undergrowth. The insects had followed the grenade explosions into the test tube ranks and now pursued the artificial soldiers into the Space Marine compound.
“They’re surrounded!” Lily pounded Fortis on the back. “They’re going to get wiped out!”
“We’ll be next if we don’t stop the swarm!” Fortis retorted.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Space Marine and mercenary locked eyes at the sound of Ystremski’s misfire. A cruel smile crossed Nesbitt’s face as he reached down with his right hand to unbutton his holster.
Ystremski didn’t hesitate. In one smooth motion, he threw his rifle at the mercenary while he drew his kukri and charged across the clearing. Nesbitt swatted the rifle away, but the delay was all the time the Space Marine needed. Ystremski closed the distance in three long strides and swung his blade for Nesbitt’s gun hand as the mercenary fumbled to draw his sidearm. The blade dug deep into Nesbitt’s right forearm, and he cried out in anger and pain as blood spurted from the bone-deep wound.
Ystremski dropped low to attack the larger man’s legs, but Nesbitt danced away as he clutched his injured arm to his chest. The corporal moved in to close the range while the mercenary again fumbled at his holster. His injured arm gushed blood, and his hand flopped uselessly by his side. He looked at Ystremski and smiled.
“It’s a knife fight you want, eh?”
Nesbit drew a long blade from a sheath on his left side and waved it menacingly at Ystremski. Ystremski saw it was a standard issue bayonet that was serrated on both edges to shred the flesh as it was plunged into a victim.
“You like that, Space Marine?” Nesbitt gloated as he thrust it toward Ystremski. “I’m gonna gut you like a fish, boy.”
The two men circled as they eyed each other and searched for an opening to attack. A test tube burst into the clearing, saw the two humans knife fighting in the middle of a firefight, and ran out the other side.
A string of explosions rocked the trees around them as another salvo of Space Marine grenades rained down on the depleted test tube force. Ystremski ducked as one went off almost overhead, and Nesbitt chose that moment to strike. He leaped forward and thrust the bayonet at Ystremski’s face. Ystremski backpedaled, his boot heel caught on an exposed root, and he fell on his ass. He scrambled backward. Nesbitt shouted. Ystremski saw something fall from the trees and land on the ground behind the mercenary.
Grenade.
Ystremski rolled away and covered his head. There was a loud crack, and a thousand needles stung his back and arms. He continued rolling and leaped to his feet, kukri at the ready, but Nesbitt wasn’t pursuing him.
The mercenary was face down in the leaf litter covering the jungle floor. His legs were gone from the knees down and his body was torn open from his ass to his head. Tendrils of smoke rose from the torn and burned flesh, and Ystremski could see shattered bones protruding from the shredded mess. Nesbitt had absorbed most of the blast of the grenade, but Ystremski’s back stung where shrapnel had gotten past the much larger man.
Ystremski groaned as he climbed to his feet and retrieved his rifle. His back burned like it was on fire, but he didn’t have anything to treat his wounds with. He retrieved his rifle, ejected the magazine, and discovered a jammed round had prevented the weapon from firing. He cleared the jam, slammed the magazine in place, and cycled a fresh round into the chamber.
Time to go home.
* * *
Fortis watched the test tubes turn their attention from attacking the Space Marines to defending against the bugs swarming behind them.
“All stations, this is Fortis. Cease fire. The test tubes have their hands full with the bugs crawling up their asses, so let them fight it out. If they don’t stop that swarm, we’re next.”
The concentrated fire of the test tubes chewed into the bug swarm and slowed their advance to a crawl. The Space Marines took advantage of the respite to gather ammunition and weapons from nearby positions.
“LT, this is Trenas. One of the drones has visual surveillance over the GRC compound. You need to see this.”
“On my way.” Fortis turned to Lily. “If the test tubes turn back the bugs, order the mechs to drop a full grenade salvo on them and then drop smoke between us. If we can keep them at arm’s length, we can beat them.”
He turned and jumped down from the roof of the command mech. The extra gravity caused him to miscalculate his landing, and pain lanced up his right leg as he sprawled on the ground. He tried to scramble to his feet, but he collapsed in agony when he put any weight on his right foot. Fortis dragged his injured leg behind him as he crawled for the command mech hatch.
* * *
Beck paced the passageway between his office and the conference room as he waited for word from Nesbitt on the progress of the attack. He was trapped in an information vacuum without the cameras or communications with the mercenaries at the scene, and he hated it. When he ordered his troops to pursue the surviving Space Marine, he didn’t expect them to disappear into the jungle and not return.
He went outside and stood at the top of the compound. He stared out over the jungle and imagined he could hear gunfire and explosions, but he knew it was wishful thinking. The Space Marine compound was too far away for the sounds of battle to reach his ears.
Beck did his best to ignore the twisted bodies of the Space Marine patrol and the engineered soldiers that marked the sudden spasm of violence between the two groups hours earlier. The shock he’d felt after shooting the warrant officer had worn off, replaced by a mixture of disbelief and denial. It felt as if someone else had used his hand to draw his sidearm and fire, and he was just a spectator.
He heard a droning noise in the distance, a low buzz that faded in and out.
Is that a bug swarm?
Beck almost turned and ran inside before he realized bugs weren’t swarming the compound. One thing he knew for sure about the bugs, they didn’t swarm unless provoked. He decided the noise was an acoustic illusion of the distant battle.
After a last long look at the jungle, he turned back for the headquarters building.
* * *
“What happened to you?”
Strickland and Trenas hauled Fortis into a seat at the console and Doc Weinberg unsnapped his boot. Fortis stifled a grunt when the boot slid free.
“Damn!”
Fortis looked at his leg and almost puked when he saw a jagged shard of bone poking through the skin above his ankle.
“We need to get that leg stabilized, LT.” Weinberg worked with quick, practiced motions as he cut off Fortis’ sock and unfastened his armor up to his knee.
“No time for that now, Doc,” Fortis protested. He looked at Trenas. “What is it you wanted to show me?”
The command post op
erator slid into her seat and a video feed appeared on the display closest to Fortis. He recognized the familiar layout of the GRC compound frozen in mid-frame.
“Since we knew where the test tubes were, I flew out over the GRC base to see what was going on, and I saw this.”
Trenas clicked Play.
In the compound, Fortis watched a figure emerge from the headquarters building and stand at the edge of the training ground. The image zoomed in, and Fortis recognized him in an instant.
Beck!
“That’s Beck. He’s the head of the GRC.”
The camera pulled back, and Fortis’ heart lurched when he saw Beck standing next to several bodies in Space Marine battle armor. He recognized the rank insignia of a warrant officer on one of the bodies, but he couldn’t make out the face because the helmet visor was a shattered mess of blood and gore.
“That’s Pell’s patrol,” said Trenas. She swallowed hard. “All of them but one, which we think is Ystremski.”
The camera panned over the bodies. The Space Marine lightweight battle armor was no match for the volume of high-velocity fire the test tubes had aimed at them and they were all victims of multiple gunshot wounds. Fortis noted with grim satisfaction that there were test tubes mixed in with the Space Marines.
“They went down fighting.”
“DINLI.” Strickland’s voice cracked, and she drew a ragged breath.
“Yeah. DINLI.”
Fortis writhed in pain when Weinberg adjusted the position of his ankle.
“Are you trying to kill me, Doc?”
“Sorry, LT, but I need to straighten your leg before I splint it.” The corpsman held up a roll of gauze. “You want a shot to numb it up before I do this?”
“Will it stop me from walking?”
Weinberg snorted. “The shot won’t stop you from walking, LT, but the compound fracture will. You’re done walking for a while.”