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Into the Dark (Dark Universe Book 1)

Page 19

by Jason Halstead


  The shuttle rocked and pulled him to his left. Aden glanced out the window and saw they were spiraling. The centrifugal force shifted and added to the gravity pulling them against the floor. Metal creaked and slammed as the shuttle jumped around them.

  “Direct hit!” Meshelle shouted. “Pressure holding. Starboard thrusters down.”

  “Course correction and impact have driven us down to the outer edges of the atmosphere,” Seph announced.

  “Give me a countdown to trigger external charges for flare and smoke.”

  Aden glanced at Amber as the ship began to vibrate around them. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Cut the chatter!” Meshelle snapped.

  Aden glanced at his comms display and saw he hadn’t switched to the private line with Amber. He clamped his lips shut and cursed under his breath for screwing up.

  “Positive atmosphere in seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, deploy charges!”

  Meshelle stabbed the button on her panel and made the shuttle rock anew as explosives mounted on the ship’s hull detonated. Garf cried out and cackled before falling silent. A growing rumble sounded around them, making the ship quake and shudder.

  “We’re smoking. Take us in, controlled crash profile,” Meshelle ordered.

  Controlled crash? Aden glanced at Amber but she was staring out the starboard window near her. He turned to the one on the port side and watched the wispy clouds lift away as the shuttle plummeted through them. Flashes of flame shot past his window, alarming him until he realized it was the friction-induced heat from atmospheric entry.

  “No questions,” Meshelle growled. “We set up dummy charges on the outside of the ship to offset enemy weapons or fake an injury. Seph and I cooked up a plan to dodge enemy fire and get caught in the atmosphere. Being hit worked even better. We’re damaged but not badly. Stand by to deploy and deal with an army of Criknids.”

  “Visual on target in three minutes,” Seph confirmed. “Landing will be forty-five seconds later. Fast and over before you know it, just like my sister says she’s gotten used to.”

  Amber and Garf choked off their laughs and Aden had to clench his teeth to keep from retaliating. He turned to stare out the window again, distracting himself with the blue ocean below and occasional green forest covered jungles.

  Aden had wanted adventure, excitement, and to know what deep space had to offer him. Not only was he finding that out, but he was also learning that it wanted him dead too. And he was rushing towards it.

  Chapter 32

  “Multiple structures,” Meshelle reported as the shuttle roared through the sky. The shaking stopped as it slowed to atmospheric speeds. “Multiple moving organics.”

  “Touchdown in thirty,” Seph warned.

  The particle cannon hummed and discharged. In the atmosphere, the cracking of air being superheated and atomized by the angry red pulses was as loud as thunder. Thunder that rolled every half a second until the capacitor was fully discharged. Aden’s hearing was spared by the dampeners that cut out the damaging noise.

  Seph’s voice cut through the noise. “Landing in ten—door opening in five!”

  The ramp dropped, letting wind rip through the cabin and tug them all towards the exit. The shuttle’s gravity and the power in the suits kept them secure until the shuttle jerked and came to an abrupt stop. The ramp dropped the final inches to the ground, signaling a successful landing.

  “Go!” Meshelle barked.

  Amber had her assault cannon in hand as she followed Garf out the back. He dropped to a knee beside the ramp and swept his belt-fed Colson in front of him. He fired in small bursts, advancing the belt from the drum he wore on his back. Amber went to the opposite side of the ramp and surveyed her targets before firing one of her rockets.

  Aden’s primary weapon was his Betari Suppressor. He held it at the ready and trotted down the ramp and stared across the flat landscape on top of the mesa: statues, columns, and small open-sided buildings. Criknids approached from all directions, though the larger concentrations came from the middle of the geographic aberration.

  Aden ran to the left and threw himself down behind a statue of a woman with wings and a tail. Pulses of energy struck the statue, the ground, and even his armor. Bullets from conventional weapons ricocheted off his armor and around him. He drew his weapon up and fired back, shattering splinters of rock off statues and hammering into the Criknid armor.

  Meshelle crouched in the open hatch and fired selective shots from her assault rifle at the approaching Criknids. Seph joined her a moment later and settled in with her sniping rifle. It took several shots with the Betari to incapacitate one of the armored insect warriors but a single round from the high-caliber sniper rifle placed in a critical area dropped them to the ground.

  Aden’s first forty-round magazine clicked empty. He flipped it around to load the second mag clipped to it and rolled around the other side of the statue that loomed over him. Three more Criknids were approaching, trying to flank him. He accepted a blast from a pulse rifle and fired a long burst into each of the Criknids to chew through their armor and leave them writhing on the ground. He grunted in satisfaction and ejected the spent magazine. He had several to spare, but he began to worry several might not be enough.

  He ducked behind the statue to switch sides again. He was jerked away from the statue and thrown to the ground by an explosion on the far side of the now ravaged winged woman. He stared up in shock as she teetered and began to fall. Aden rolled and grabbed his gun while scrambling to get out of the way.

  A chunk of broken wing fell on the ground beside him, peppering him with broken stone shrapnel. He threw himself away, rolling across the ground and watching as the statue crashed onto the ground a few feet from him. The ground kicked up into him and left him stunned for a moment in spite of his armor.

  A shadow fell across him as a Criknid leapt onto the broken statue lying near his feet. Aden swung his arm up and realized as he moved his hand that he’d dropped his rifle. The Criknid above him saw him and lowered his gun towards him.

  A sharp crack accompanied the crumpled hole that appeared in the Criknid's helmet and the spray of yellow and brown fluid out the back. The warrior fell back off the statue and out of Aden’s view. He looked to his side and found where he’d dropped his rifle while rolling away from the statue. Aden gathered it and turned to see Meshelle and Seph running to join him behind the broken statue.

  “Thanks,” Aden said when Seph moved past him and took up a position with her rifle propped on the broken rock.

  “We’re even,” she snapped. “Now I can kill you myself.”

  “Wonderful,” Aden muttered.

  “Shut up and cover the others!” Meshelle ordered.

  Aden spun away and moved to the end of a large chunk of statue. He leaned around it and started firing at the Criknids advancing on the shuttle. He pulled a grenade free and twisted it before tossing it. “Grenade out!” he cried.

  Aden crouched by the rock and waited until his grenade detonated and sent two Criknids staggering. He fired quick bursts into the other Criknids, adding to the chaos and confusing them.

  “Go!” Meshelle shouted.

  Garf tucked his cartridge rifle close and ran on three legs while Amber jogged as fast as she could. Creases from bullets and burn marks from energy blasts marred their armor.

  Aden changed in a fresh magazine as they slid and crashed into the rocks to find some cover. He fired off two more bursts and then ducked back under cover. “There’s a lot of them out there still,” he warned. “They go down but get back up.”

  “Bugs,” Amber snarled.

  “You can rip off an arm and they don’t care,” Garf agreed.

  “We need to get to the center of the island,” Meshelle decided. “The shuttle’s secured— we rush. Garf has the lead.”

  “Load up,” Amber said while she changed out her empty drum for a fresh one.

  Aden clipped a retractable strap to his Betari
and freed up the Blackjack pump action grenade launcher that he’d seen Amber use before. He attached it to another self-retracting tie and then grabbed a fresh grenade from his suit and held it in his hand.

  Seph fired and dropped down from her perch so she could change out her spent magazine. She slung it over her back and drew the two Predator pistols on her hips. “I’m ready.”

  Aden frowned and shook his head. Fighting with two weapons was stupid. Twice the firepower but less than ten percent of the accuracy. Rather than argue with her, he turned and glanced around the rocks. The Criknids he’d knocked down were coming again. He cursed and fell back as bullets slammed into his armor and bounced off.

  He twisted his grenade to second contact and jammed it into his launcher. A quick pump and he risked sticking his head out again. He aimed and fired as more bullets chewed away at his armor and tore through unarmored fabric. The grenade armed when the compressed spring launched it through the air. It struck a Criknid in the thigh and exploded, tearing his leg and hip apart and throwing him into the warrior beside him. On the other side, the Criknid fell, his exoskeleton pierced by his crushed armor.

  Aden grabbed another grenade and turned to his team. “We need to move!”

  “Let’s go,” Garf grunted.

  “You first,” Amber reminded him.

  “Try to keep up,” Garf huffed and ran around the left side of the fallen statue.

  “Shit!” Meshelle cursed, surprised by the Devikian’s rush. “Go! Amber and Aden, on the right.”

  Amber sprang into action, following Garf. Aden rushed behind, twisting his grenade and loading it into the launcher in preparation. Garf was only a few steps ahead of them but he was running on three legs again, loping in his uneven gait. His Colson was clutched against his side to steady it while he rounded stream after stream of plasma at the Criknids that were turning to come after them.

  Amber sent her rockets into concentrations of two or more Criknids. Aden did his best to follow her logic with his grenades, even though they were short range. They’d moved less than a hundred feet before he ran out of grenades and dropped his Blackjack so it retracted to the strap on his side. He grabbed his Betari instead and fired burst after burst as they moved.

  Meshelle cried out and cursed, prompting them to turn. They kept moving but Amber asked, “Boss?”

  “Go,” she growled. “I’m fine.”

  “She’s hit,” Seph said. “Hip, but it just cooked some meat.”

  Garf let out a roar and reared up in front of them. He slammed his Colson into his other hand, bending it. He finished by tearing it apart and throwing the free part at the nearest Criknid. “They shot my gun!” he snarled while letting the remaining portion of the rifle that was attached to the belt drag behind him.

  “So use another,” Amber snapped.

  The Devikian snorted and pulled out two vicious looking curved blades. He clutched one in each hand and ran on, turning to head for the nearest Criknid. He ignored the shots that bounced off his armor and crashed into the insectoid warrior. The high-density metal blades crushed and split the Criknid armor. The bug man fought back, trying to bring his claws to bear on the Devikian but Garf’s rage allowed him to use the spikes on the bottom of the blades to tear the armor apart and let him drive the edges into the shell and meat beneath.

  “I’m out,” Amber warned. “Only brought two drums. Switching to my Betari.”

  Aden loaded a fresh magazine into his Betari and focused on trying to protect Garf as he hacked and sawed his way into one Criknid after another. He felt the sting of a bullet in his thigh but a cool spray took the heat away a moment later. He snarled and pushed on, determined to reach the center. They’d killed a dozen Criknid so far, if not more. The Kesari shuttle could only hold so many—there had to be an end to them somewhere!

  “I see it,” Seph hissed. “Past those arches, the ground drops away. That’s the target.”

  “You all right?” Aden asked.

  “Of course not,” she snapped back at him. “We’ve all been shot. Stop being stupid and do your job!”

  “Six Criknids guarding the pit,” Amber warned.

  “I’ll take ’em,” Garf panted. His armor was smashed and cracked. His faceplate had a broken chunk taken out of it that allowed one eye to be seen, blinking. Blood dripped from a chewed-up section of armor on his side.

  Aden spared enough attention to glance at the alarm states flashing in his helmet. Numerous minor breaches were showing, as well as one damaged power cell. His medical reserves were down to eighty percent. The shot to his thigh wasn’t the only bullet or energy beam to make it through his armor, but the medication made him unable to feel or remember where he’d been hurt.

  Amber turned and fired two bursts past him. He turned to see a Criknid fall and twitch on the ground. He started to turn back and stopped, focusing on two others that were moving towards them. One was crawling and another was missing one crab-like claw on his arm. He switched to single fire and fired round after round into the crawling one until it stopped moving, and then he turned to the other and dropped it next.

  “Garf!” Meshelle barked.

  Aden turned and saw the Devikian rushing forward towards the six Criknids that held their ground at the arches and watched them approach. The insectoid warriors trained their weapons on him as he charged.

  Aden shot first, but his attack did nothing to stop the combined firepower from slamming into the Devikian and making him stagger. He rolled to the side and tried to rise up again, only to receive another fusillade. Garf collapsed and lay still on the ground.

  Aden switched back to burst fire and dropped the Criknid he’d been shooting to one knee. The mandible wielding upper right arm went limp but the determined bug man struggled back to his feet. Aden fired two more bursts and drove him back so that he fell over the lip of the bowl in the ground behind him and rolled out of sight.

  The remaining five Criknids trained their fire on them. Budget-grade, low-density eight millimeter slugs ricocheted off their armor and chewed away at the softer parts. Seph growled and Meshelle cried out again.

  Aden’s magazine clicked empty and he didn’t have any more reloads remaining. Amber struggled to reload and hissed as another bullet found its way past her armor. Seph’s pistols thundered as she fired them until they ran dry. She cried out and staggered to the side. Red ran down her side and the inside of her arm.

  Aden saw the Criknids changing their focus to Seph. Her light armor wouldn’t stand up to the concentrated fire. He threw himself at her and knocked her aside while pulling his backup weapon, the Smith & Wesson. Bullets fractured and splintered against his armor, chipping away at it and driving off balance from the volume. One round found a weak spot in the side of his leg and worked through his calf. It lodged against the armor plating on the back of his leg and left a lump digging into his flesh that even the cool medicated spray couldn’t remove.

  Off balance and wounded again, he stumbled and dropped to a knee, hissing as the jarring made his spine pop in several places. Aden raised his pistol and took a quick aim before firing the first blast of plasma into the helmet of a Criknid. The bug man staggered and reached up to claw at his burnt and melted helmet that he couldn’t see through. Aden fired again and sent a second blast into the hands and face. The Criknid fell and didn’t move.

  He turned as they focused their fire on him. He squeezed off quick shot after shot until his pistol was empty and the last Criknid staggered. Combined fire from Amber, Meshelle, and Seph finished the Criknid off.

  Aden remained on one knee and struggled to catch his breath. His view plate was cracked and the alarm indicated more breaches, including one in his side that explained why catching his breath was so hard. The medical supplies were down to thirty percent. He felt light-headed, almost like he could float and do anything.

  A few ragged breaths later, he coughed, hacking up thick fluid that he knew was blood. He reached up and popped open his damaged view plat
e. It stuck, forcing him to yank harder and tear it free. Aden spat out the blood and coughed again, retching more of it out until he sucked in an aching breath that burned his chest.

  He held the breath and then let it go. He could breathe again. Somehow. Had the medication plugged the hole in his chest, or was it swelling? Would blood fill his lung again?

  “You going to make it?” Meshelle said in a ragged voice.

  Aden looked at her and blinked. He nodded and struggled to his feet. In a voice that sounded like he’d swallowed gravel, he said, “Ran out of bullets.”

  “I’ve got one spare mag—you want it?” Amber asked.

  “Last one here.” Meshelle held up her Betari and tapped the magazine.

  Aden looked down at the pistol in his hand. It had worked as well or better than the Betari had. He popped out the cylinder and slipped his one and only replacement out of the pouch on his armor. He loaded it and shook his head. “Keep it. I got this.”

  “Then what?” she asked.

  Aden shrugged and turned to look at where Garf had fallen. He took an awkward step and then another towards the Devikian. “If I run out of sticks and stones, I’ll start calling them names.”

  Amber shook her head and looked at Meshelle. Meshelle checked her gun and then nodded. Aden turned in time to see Seph turning away from him. Did she have a smirk on her face?

  “What are you doing?” Meshelle asked.

  “Checking Garf.”

  “There’s probably more of them coming,” Amber warned.

  “And more where we’re going,” Seph added while she fastened her pistols to the firm points on her hips and retrieved her rifle from her back.

  “We need to move ahead,” Meshelle said. “Find what made this worth it.”

  Aden dropped to Garf’s side and frowned at the blood staining the ground beneath him. He rolled him over and stared into the battered faceplate. He could barely make out Garf’s face. His eyes were closed, that much he could see.

  “I won’t leave a man behind,” Aden mumbled.

 

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