“Aren’t we doing that anyway?”
“Ramos is leading us for a reason. Him and his people know more about this than any of us. If we are to stand any chance of getting through this, I suggest you follow those who know their shit.”
Donny looked around for support, but he found none. He groaned, realising defeat.
“We’re gonna have to fight back sometime.”
“Yes, and we will, but on our terms,” replied Ramos.
* * *
Ross awoke to the sound of a stun grenade igniting. He was up on his feet in seconds. The trip wire he’d set up had been set off, along with the grenade attached to it. There was a panicked roar as his attacker became entangled in the wires and stunned by the grenade, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. He had no idea how much sleep he’d gotten, but he’d been so exhausted and desperately needed the rest. The forest lit up as gunfire rang out, and he could see the silhouette of the hulking enemy soldier, trying to blast its way out while blinded.
Why didn’t it fire at me at the causeway? I was in full view after the tree fell to the valley below. Are they trying to capture me alive?
Finally, the wires snapped, and the creature was free. Ross threw on his helmet and started running. It’s all he seemed to do now. Eventually, he stopped to catch his breath and looked over his shoulder.
The creature was still giving chase. He sighed as he rushed on. Just as the night before, the moonlight proved remarkable visibility. As he suspected, these soldiers saw as well at night as he did in the daytime. He saw a marker on a tree up ahead, and as he reached it, he vaulted a patch of terrain. He slowed his pace but kept on running. Finally, he stopped to look back at the hulking enemy barrelling towards him. There was a sharp crack sound, and the beast dropped into a pit he had prepared for it. Once more it squealed in pain. He smiled but did not wait around to check on it. He knew it wouldn’t be enough to finish it. He ran on to his next waypoint, a dead end in a small rock canyon.
It was not long before the enemy had caught up and spotted him hiding behind a rock formation at the far end of the canyon. Trapped, with nowhere to go, it closed on him without any caution at all. Strutting as if it was its endgame. It stopped short and spoke.
“Surrender, and you will not be harmed.”
The voice was far deeper than the other troops they had encountered. But it got no response.
“Why do you keep on fighting? You have lost.”
But still no response came from him. The creature went forward and around the rocks to close with him. He made no attempt to move, being utterly trapped, but as the creature came around the bend, it became clear that it was not Ross at all. It was his jacket, armour, and helmet wrapped around a log, propped up to look like a man. The beast let out a cry in frustration, but as it fell silent, there was a whistle from above. It looked up to see Ross perched at the edge of the canyon above it.
“Not too smart, are you?”
He smiled and held out his grenade, the pin already out. He let go, and it dropped, landing at the feet of the creature. It looked down for a moment, realised what it was and turned to run, but it was too late. The grenade ignited before it had gotten much more than a metre away, the force of the blast launching it into the rocks. It struck them hard and crumpled into a heap. Ross got up and rubbed his hands together, content in his work.
“You messed with the wrong guy, asshole!”
As he said it, the enemy soldier began to move. It was unnerving. He’d hit it with pretty much the only weapon he had left. The last being his knife on his belt. He was stripped to his shirt and felt quite naked in sight of the enemy. He drew out the knife as if he’d need it to fight to the very end. The wounded soldier struggled to get to its feet. One of its legs looked badly damaged, but it was alive. Ross desperately wanted to finish the job, but he had no idea how he could achieve that. He’d tried everything, and still it was breathing. At least it couldn’t chase him any longer.
“To hell with you!” He sheathed the knife and walked away.
Chapter 8
Ramos was wide-awake, too much was going through his mind. They were cold, hungry, tired, and with the fear of attack ever looming over them. He was sharing his foxhole with Kelly. He was supposed to be getting some shut-eye, but it was impossible, and the sun would be up before long.
“He might be right, you know.”
“Who?
“The kid, Donny.”
Ramos grimaced. “But you didn’t support him?”
“No, because we need to go forward together. This is your show now. If you want to ask for ideas from people, so be it, but we can’t have anyone throwing a spanner in the works. We have a chain of command. Not all of them have served, but Donny should know better.”
“So you think he’s right?”
“I don’t know, but he has a point. We can’t keep running.”
“If we stand, we could all die.”
“And if we keep running, the same might happen. Come on, I’ve seen the way you work, and I know enough about what you do. You don’t play the enemy’s game. You hit them when they least expect it, in places they never thought possible. Or you strike targets they never believed were vulnerable. You are the hunters, not the hunted.”
"I wish that were true, but look us."
"We showed them what we could do, though. That we could fight back. We took the fight to the enemy, and we won."
"The enemy," he mused.
"What about them?"
"We don't even know who these assholes are. I've been in some spots where the lines are blurred, and you don't know who's shooting back, but not like this."
"Does it matter?"
"Yeah, it matters. Know your enemy. Our team has overcome forces hundreds of times greater than ours, because we understood what we were facing. Who they were, what they wanted, their capabilities! Hell, what we are fighting now, we don't even know where they're from!"
"Fair to say it's nowhere we've ever seen."
"So you really believe..."
"I don't presume to know. But you have to be wondering the same thing. None of this has added up since the beginning. Advanced weaponry and technology, robotics and automation like we've never known, and the might to strike at the USA. Who are they?"
"Who knows? We've got plenty of enemies around the world. With enough of them working in secret to prepare for this over many years. Maybe..."
"Come on. Who the hell would be capable of it?"
"Desperate people can achieve some incredible things. Trust me."
"Yeah? Well, good, because right now that's us."
He didn't know what else to say.
"You really believe we could be dealing with something...alien?" he whispered, as if embarrassed to say it.
"I'd say it sounds crazy, but we can only weigh up the situation. None of it makes sense until you consider the possibility that this threat did not come from this world. Then, it may just make sense."
"Except we've never found any sign of life in the universe."
"Yeah, you know how big it is. You know how difficult it would be to even identify them? I fly for a living. I've flown to parts of this world you’ve probably never heard of. I've been round it many times over, but my life wouldn't be long enough to explore even a microscopic amount of what's out there beyond this planet."
Ramos groaned. He clearly knew next to nothing about anything beyond their atmosphere, but she didn't think any less of him for it. He was a soldier, and a very good one. He knew things about ground combat she'd never learn in a lifetime. They served the same nation, yet had little in common. Despite that, they had bonded quickly. Ramos sat back, his mind wandering through the crazy ideas she was putting in his head, although some of them had already been there. He suddenly got up and pushed forward to the edge of the foxhole, studying the scene before them with such intensity.
"What, what is it?"
Ramos was frozen as if he had seen a ghost. He focused to try a
nd understand what he was seeing, but he made no attempt to reach for his weapon.
"What is it?"
She looked out and followed his gaze. There was a fog in the air, and at first she couldn't find what was intriguing him so much. Then she spotted the faintest glimmer of movement, and the figure of a man stumbling towards them.
"What? Who is that?" She reached for her rifle.
"I don't fucking believe it. You son of a bitch!"
Ramos leapt out of the foxhole, leaving his weapon behind as he rushed towards the figure.
"Ramos, Ramos! What are you doing?"
She tried to stay quiet, but her voice still carried and woke up others nearby. Ramos was already halfway to the mysterious figure, and still showing no caution or due diligence. She didn't understand it coming from him. He'd been a well disciplined and bastion of common sense in the short time she had known him. It was enough to feel that they were friends.
"Bloody hell!"
She grabbed her rifle and leapt out to run after him. She closed the distance quickly where she could see Ramos had stopped before the figure and was speechless. She reached him and found herself in the same boat.
"Ross?"
Donny had joined them, but he still looked half asleep. They had to look to one another to check they were not seeing some vision or in some dream. Finally, they turned back to the figure before them. It looked like Ross, but his jacket and equipment were gone. He carried nothing but his knife, and he was battered and bloody.
"What, not pleased to see me?" he asked with a smile and a croaky voice.
His face was a mix of dirt, and dried as well as fresh blood. He looked like there was nothing left holding him up.
"You look like shit," Ramos finally said.
Ross smiled once again and collapsed to the ground.
"Jack!" Ramos rushed forward to his aid. He felt for a pulse and looked for wounds.
"He's still with us. I can’t feel any serious wounds."
"Look at him. He's exhausted. He needs rest," replied Kelly.
"How did he even find us?"
"That's what he does, Donny. That's why he's the best at what he does," replied Ramos.
"Will he be okay?"
"Bet your ass he will. He'll be back on his feet in no time."
Ramos picked him up and carried him back to their foxhole. He took off his jacket and lay if over Ross. It was the best they could do, being so badly equipped, but Donny and two others were quick to offer up their jackets, too. Ramos laid them under Jack and then covered him as best as possible.
"The things he must have been through to get here. He's been out there alone for days, and it looks like he didn't have a walk in the park," said Kelly.
Ramos drew back the garments and began cleaning the wounds with the few antiseptic wipes they had left. The whole group gathered around to see what all the fuss was about.
"His wounds, well there are lots, but they're all superficial."
Kelly breathed a sigh of relief, and the rest of them were clearly thinking the same. Ramos was a good man and a great soldier, but he wasn't comfortable in command, not like Jack had been. This was the first good news they'd had since the attack on the camp, and they sure did need it. Many of their faces lit up with joy and hope, the images of the Whitelys fading from their minds now that they had gotten one of their own back.
"This is a sign," said Donny.
"Yeah, a sign that we aren't completely fucked," replied Ortiz.
"What are your orders?" Kelly asked Ramos.
He looked dumfounded. In all the excitement he had forgotten he was still in command, a job he was more than eager to relinquish at the first opportunity.
"He needs rest, as much as we can give him. We stay put here. A few hours could do wonders for him. At first light we’ll forage for any food we can find. We don't go anywhere until the Master Sergeant is back on his feet, and ready to get back in the fight. Go back to your foxholes, and get what sleep you can before the sun is up. I think we just got back in this fight, and we're all going to need our strength."
There was no argument there. They quickly separated as ordered, but Kelly marvelled at the change in the group dynamic. They had gone from close to breaking point, to with a purpose and some joy.
"He must have fought like hell to get back here," said Emma.
"Yes, and that is now what the rest of us must do," replied Kelly.
"He’s the best of us. He always was."
"You've done us a damn fine job in his absence. It's not a job I'd ever want," replied Kelly.
"If Ross recovers sometime in the day, what then, what are we to do?"
"If he can walk, talk, and fight, Emma, then he’ll surely have some ideas for us all," replied Kelly.
"I knew he wasn't dead," replied Ortiz.
"Bullshit," replied Ramos with a smile.
"Hey, come on, I hoped like the rest of you, but it wasn’t too likely. I mean, how the hell did he survive out there, and against what? It looks like he’s been through hell."
Hours past as they all eagerly awaited their leader to wake up. It gave them hope, but they were also anxious. Daylight brought some safety from the larger creatures that came in the night, and the ability to have fires. The morning catches were already cooking. The smell of fresh meat and the return of Ross had made this day a new dawn, or so they hoped. It certainly felt that way. It was nearing evening when Ross finally coughed and spluttered; awaking from the deep sleep he had been in for most of the day. Ramos had been waiting by his side. He helped him to sit up and handed him a canteen of water. He looked bewildered, as if shocked to see them. Miles and Burns were returning from another hunt when they saw him awake and rushed over to see him. Both had been very distant since the attack. They feared for the direction of the group, but the return of Ross was just what they needed.
"Max? How, what am I doing here?"
His throat was dry, and he could barely get the words out.
"You walked here on your own two feet."
He still looked confused, clearly remembering little.
"The camp was hit hard. We had to evacuate, but we lost you in the chaos. What happened to you?" Kelly asked.
He shook his head, trying to remember.
"I, I fell...I think."
"Fell?"
"Into a river. I was chased."
"Chased?"
"Yes chased, by one, no two of those things that come in the night."
"The Mastiffs?" Ramos asked.
But that meant nothing to him.
"The big bastards that come in the night?"
Ross nodded in agreement.
"Mastiffs. That's what some of us have been calling them. Built like brick shit houses and unstoppable."
"Yeah? I stopped..."
He hesitated as his face turned to concern. He threw off the coats and leapt up, staggering a little before finding his feet. Ramos went to help him, but he pushed him away.
"Where’s my rifle?"
"When you came to the camp, you had nothing but a knife."
"Then find me a rifle."
"Of course we will, but why the rush?"
Ross paced back and forth anxiously. Ramos couldn't take it any longer. He grabbed his friend and held him close, forcing him to listen.
"What d’you want a rifle for? What are you scared of?"
His eyes were wide open and bloodshot. He looked terrified in a way Ramos had never seen in him before.
"Those things, and you should be, too."
He shrugged him off, but Ramos grabbed him again, not satisfied with the answer at all. He'd known Ross a long time, and this made no sense. He slapped him across the face and then questioned him again in a firmer tone.
"Come on, Jack. Start talking some sense."
He seemed to snap back to reality, yet the fear was still in his eyes.
"Two of those things came for me. One is still out there."
"All right, does it know you came here?"<
br />
"I've no idea."
"Then we might be safe. We’ll send out people to be sure."
"No, you're not getting me. I don't want to run from this thing..."
The whole group were intently listening in.
"Then what?"
"I want to kill it, and every asshole like it. Give me a rifle, and either come and help me, or get out of my way!"
"Yeah, now that's what I'm talking about," said Donny enthusiastically.
But Ramos looked deeply concerned as Ross raced over to a man and took his rifle from him.
"I'm going to finish this thing, and maybe get some answers along the way. We aren't going to win this war by running. We fight, or we die, what'll it be?"
Ramos didn't want to believe this was the real Ross talking, although he seemed to be returning to his usual self more as every minute went by. Kelly leant in close to whisper something to him.
"Be the hunter, not the hunted."
He groaned, knowing she was going to say that, and yet it had the ring of truth to it.
"Do you have any idea where this thing even is? Maybe it's called for support. Maybe it's got the hell out of Dodge?"
"I can track back to where I left it. I hit it with a grenade and did some damage. It's hurt, but it's not done."
"So what, we're gonna hunt this Mastiff? One of the most dangerous enemies we've ever encountered?"
"Damn right we are, Max. I took on one by myself, almost finished a second. I think we can handle it."
"And what d’you think this will achieve?" Emma asked.
But Miles, her brother butted in before anyone else could.
"These assholes have been one step ahead of us all the way. They're always the ones causing trouble. We had one moment when we freed these folk. It's time we had more of that. Time we set more free."
"And we're gonna do that by killing a wounded soldier?"
"By interrogating and eliminating one of their best, yes," replied Ross unapologetically.
"Is that is what we’ve come to?"
"Do you want to win or not?"
"I want to come out of this with some semblance of the people we once were."
"Well, tough shit. You can adapt and survive, or you can die like everyone else."
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