Burden of Sisyphus bod-1

by Jon Messenger

  Burden of Sisyphus

  ( Brink of Distinction - 1 )

  Jon Messenger

  Jon Messenger

  Burden of Sisyphus

  CHAPTER ONE

  Private Hicks’ heartbeat pounded like a hammer as he glanced around the corner of the crumbled concrete wall. Seeing nothing across the open field of powdered red clay, he felt the first relief flooding through his system in the past twenty minutes.

  Allowing himself a moment to unwind taut muscles, Hicks ejected the magazine from his rifle and counted his ammunition. Realizing there were only ten bullets left, he cringed. It wasn’t enough to stop any of the enemies pursuing him. Taking another glance around the broken wall and seeing nothing behind him, he quickly surveyed the rest of the area.

  All around stood the bombed-out remains of a once-prosperous town, reduced to the destroyed one-story remnants of their foundations. Flowing like water between the broken walls was the red, clay-like sand that covered the planet’s surface.

  He squinted against the bright suns shining down on the dry, desolate planet. He scanned his surroundings until he saw the rising plateau. Buried in its midst was the shimmering silhouette of a tower-the tip of a communications array that marked the Terran outpost. It stood enclosed within a crevice that cut into the side of the plateau, with a defensive wall between the Terran building and the rest of the harsh planet. All that remained between him and the wall was a maze of ruined structures and a hill he must cross yet dreaded reaching.

  Around him, sand shifted constantly, covering even the deep tracks he left as he ran for cover. The planet was nothing like the Terran home world of Earth. Meager scrub grasses grew twisted and sickly, leaving little to hinder the gusty wind. Wiping sweat from his eyes, he thought again how he didn’t want to die on such a miserable planet.

  Doing the calculations in his mind, he chose one of the closer structures, judging the time and distance it would take to reach its walls. Not wanting to stay exposed for too long, he chose the closest wall.

  He pulled his rifle tight to his shoulder and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Exhaling slowly with leg muscles coiled, he sprinted forward. Counting seconds in his head, he covered the last few meters in a dash before dropping to his knees and sliding behind the wall, a cloud of acrid red dust rising in his wake.

  Breathing heavily again, he strained to hear a cry of alarm or indication that he’d been spotted. Hearing none, he picked his way through the buildings, always staying low to avoid detection. Red sand pulled at his feet, threatening to drag him down if he stayed in one place too long. His legs already ached from running across the shifting ground, but he drove forward until he finally reached the last foundation. Before him loomed the hillside. Just beyond was the freedom he feared he’d never see.

  He rubbed his burning calves, helping his body break down the lactic acid cramping his muscles. Stealing one last backward glance, he broke from cover and charged up the red hill. Sand gave way underfoot, shifting with his body weight. For every two steps forward, he slid one step back.

  Struggling, he clawed at the loose ground with his hands, pulling himself closer to the top, while behind, an avalanche of sand poured down the hill. Finally, panting wildly, he reached the top and dropped to his stomach, sliding down the short backside.

  His body screamed in protest, as he tried to stand. His muscles ached, and his lungs burned in the planet’s thin, dust-filled air. Under his dark armor, sweat soaked through his uniform. Raising his head, he saw the looming plateau. Nuzzled within the wedge of the plateau’s facade, there was the Terran’s dark, stone, defensive wall. Relief flooded through him. Being able to see the bristling antiaircraft weapon platforms mounted atop the wall meant his destination was finally within reach.

  Scrambling to his feet despite resistant muscles, he ran the rest of the way to the wall. He didn’t dare hope to make it that far without being spotted by his enemies, but the reprieve gave him time to close the final twenty meters to the outpost. Legs cramping, he limped the rest of the way to the wall. Ignoring the large, arched vehicle entrance, whose heavy doors led straight to the courtyard between the wall and the building set into the plateau, he staggered to the reinforced personnel entrance to one side. Shuffling past a set of thick windows, he watched Terran soldiers within the wall move toward the door.

  Sliding in the red sand, he stopped in front of the door and pounded it with his open hand. “Open the door!” he yelled, his voice raspy and dry.

  When nothing happened, he banged again, glancing over his shoulder in fear and frustration.

  “Open the damn door!” he screamed, as much as his raw throat allowed, hitting the door repeatedly.

  Finally, hesitantly, it opened.

  A blast of cool air struck him, as he was pulled into the comforting darkness. The room was cast in deep shadows, and he was momentarily blinded in the dim lighting. He shivered, as someone helped him to the far side of the narrow room, the cool air a stark contrast to the scorching heat outside. Sliding down against the wall, he exhaled a loud, raspy breath.

  “Hicks,” the closest soldier said.

  His head swam with exhaustion.

  “What happened out there?”

  He peered through the gloom, barely able to make out the man’s rank and name. “Alliance mercenaries. They hit us while we were on patrol.”

  A third soldier pushed past the others and bent over Hicks, who saw the officer epaulettes on his shoulder. “Where’s the rest of your team, Private?”

  He shook his head. “They’re all dead, Sir.”

  “All of them?” the lieutenant asked in disbelief. “How did one group of Alliance mercenaries take out an entire patrol?”

  A soft sound echoed through the room before Hicks could reply. The thumping reverberated softly, as he clambered to his feet. Slowly, the others heard it, and the room fell to hushed silence. It was a series of soft thumps, as if something struck the compound’s outer wall repeatedly.

  “What the hell is that noise?” Lieutenant Hill asked, looking toward the thick, outer walls.

  The sound continued unabated.

  “Sir, I’ve got a visual,” a private said, watching from the window.

  The lieutenant rushed to the window, pulling free the binoculars on his hip. In the distance, a single massive form stood at the crest of the hill. Thick, dark fur covered its body, which ended in an elongated snout. Sharp horns jutted from its temples, curving wickedly forward.

  Lowering his binoculars, the lieutenant turned toward the rest of the soldiers. “It looks like the Alliance found our outpost! Let’s move, people!” As he walked back to the middle of the room, the soldiers exploded into action.

  “On your feet, soldiers!” Lieutenant Hill yelled over the din of muttered conversation. “Grab some ammo and find a wall to stand behind.” Turning back toward the sturdy window, he glared across the red field. “If they want to bring their fight here, they won’t even know what hit them.”

  “How true,” Hicks rasped, as a barbed tail erupted from under the back of his shirt. Lashing out, the tail struck the base of Lieutenant Hill’s neck and erupted from his throat, nearly decapitating the officer.

  Hicks extended his left hand, and the fingers elongated into razor-sharp points, which he drove into a nearby soldier’s abdomen. The soldier stared in disbelief, as the skin on Hicks’ face melted like wax, first running down toward his chin before being absorbed into his oily-black skin. The face disappeared, leaving behind a featureless black oval. Slowly, the rest of his skin melted away until all that remained was thick, black hide.

  The creature that impersonated Hicks swished its spiked tail back and forth and turned toward the three re
maining soldiers in the room. Eyes wide with fright, one swung his rifle toward the creature and squeezed the trigger.

  The window exploded inward, as the first round tore through the thick glass and struck the soldier’s temple. His scalp peeled away on the far side of his head, as the high-velocity round passed through and struck the far wall, spraying the back of the room with blood.

  A second report shook the room, as another round struck the soldier closest to the window in the chest, lifting him from his feet and tossing his body farther into the narrow room.

  The remaining soldier ran through the back door, deeper into the steel-and-concrete complex.

  The dark creature surveyed the grizzly scene and flicked its tail, splashing more droplets of blood against the wall. A clawed hand reached to its throat and pressed a small button embedded in its neck.

  “Sir, we have a runner,” it said into its throat mike.

  Two miles away, three camouflaged figures watched the events unfold through high-powered scopes. A figure fully cloaked in red robes and scarves reached under the scarf around its throat and keyed his own microphone.

  “Roger that, Ixibas.” The red-robed figure turned toward two prone figures on his right. “Ainj and Yen are tracking his progress now.”

  Ainj pulled a massive sniper rifle tighter against an anemic-looking frame with surprising strength. His pale skin seemed ill fitted for this world’s harsh desert climate, but he pulled his feathered wings over his body to keep the sun away from his sharp eyes. Staring through the scope, he panned right from the window to the communications tower, following the soldier’s movements through the two-foot-thick concrete walls.

  Yen Xiao crouched quietly beside Ainj, his eyes closed and fingers intertwined. His yellow skin glistened with sweat, as he concentrated, and the elongated spines running down his back flexed and relaxed with the rhythm of his calming breaths. The air around him shimmered faintly, as if heat radiated from him. His features danced, as the shimmering increased in pace with his deepening concentration. In a tranquil voice, he called out commands to Ainj.

  ‘Right twenty meters, up one.” His dark brows furrowed, as he focused.

  Ainj followed his direction, tracing a path along the featureless concrete wall.

  “He’s gone up a floor and is heading back. Left five meters, up another three.”

  Ainj angled the tip of the massive sniper rifle left, pausing only briefly, as his sights passed over a female creature scaling the side of the building, heading directly toward the antiaircraft weapons lining the roof of the communications center. Bony protrusions along her hands and feet dug into the building’s thick stonework, as she climbed higher. A large spear, strapped to her back, bounced as she moved.

  “Left two more meters,” Yen said, “and you have him.”

  The sniper rifle followed the directions flawlessly. Ainj, focusing on the location, squeezed the trigger.

  The wall near Nova Tirana exploded, showering her with small rocks and a cloud of white dust. She shook her hair free, and debris showered twenty feet to the red sand below.

  “The last interior guard is down,” the red-robed man called over the radio. “Nova, you’re up. Watch the timeline.”

  “Roger.” She pulled the bony protrusions around her knuckles free of the wall and began climbing again. As she slammed the white-bone ridges around her hands and feet into the wall, a loud thump echoed, as she scrambled for purchase. Sweat rolled around the boney ridges along her cheeks and jawline, which she shook free with a toss of her head.

  Cresting the top of the wall, Nova pulled the long spear off her back, as she climbed to her feet. Antiaircraft weapons sat on either side of her, their barrels pointed skyward. A pair of Terran soldiers manned each weapon. At the sight of the female Uligart climbing the lip of the wall, they reached for their weapons.

  Nova spun the spear artfully, slicing off both hands of the closest Terran, as he reached for his rifle. Screaming, he stumbled backward. Using his momentum against him, she drove the butt of the spear unto his gut, lifting him off his feet and tossing him off the roof. Completing the spin of her spear, she drove the tip cleanly through the Terran in the gunner’s chair. Gurgling, he fell limply to the rooftop, as she turned toward the other antiaircraft platform.

  Turning, she pressed a button on the spear’s haft. The bladed tip snapped free and spun at the end of a chain. She whipped the spear tip toward the first of the guards before he could fire his weapon. The blade punctured his body armor, shattering bone and muscle, as it tore through his back. Lifted from his feet by the impact, he crashed into the barrel of the antiaircraft weapon.

  Nova tugged the haft, but the chain and blade were lodged too tightly to the Terran’s body. She danced aside, as the last soldier fired. Bullets sheared flakes of stone from the rooftop near her right foot.

  Dropping the spear, her hand moved in a blur. She freed her pistol and fired, the round catching the side of the Terran’s neck. He spun, firing a few more shots reflexively before collapsing onto the stone roof. As he gurgled painfully, blood sprayed weakly from his severed artery, slicking the rooftop with gore.

  Reaching to her neck, Nova activated her throat mike. “The rooftop’s clear. We’re ready to proceed with phases three and four.”

  Looking down sympathetically at the frightened Terran, she frowned before raising her pistol and shooting him between the eyes.

  “That’s a good copy, Nova,” the red-robed figure replied. “Tusque and Eza, you’re both a go for your phase. Ainj is airborne. Yen and I will be there shortly.”

  Ainj picked up his sniper rifle and pushed off from the ground. Beating his powerful wings, he gained altitude and flew toward the Terran outpost. As he departed, the red-robed figure and Yen picked up the remaining supplies and ran toward the distant plateau.

  At the top of the hill near the wall, the eight-foot, furry Oterian huffed loudly, as he looked over his shoulder. Behind him, a smaller, deeply tanned man stood, absently spinning a curved hand ax through the air. The man’s golden hair was pulled back from his face in a ponytail. On either side of his face, tracing his strong jawline, red and white tattoos swirled across his skin.

  “Ready?” Tusque rumbled.

  “Always,” Eza Riddell replied, before sprinting beside the Oterian across the red sand toward the towering vehicle entrance doors.

  Tusque, who began running shortly before Eza, moved like a locomotive. Though he wasn’t nearly as fast as Eza, his powerful strides built up great momentum, as he charged the outpost. His breath coming in deep huffs, Tusque lowered his head, as he moved toward the metallic alloy door.

  When he crashed into it, it resounded like a thunderclap. The vehicle entrance exploded inward, scattering the Terran guards posted inside.

  As the first Terran regained his footing, a smaller form tumbled through the destroyed archway. Rolling to his feet, Eza slashed to the side with his curved ax. The blade bit deep into the Terran’s hamstrings, severing both muscles, as red blood mixed with the colored sand. Before the soldier fell, Eza pulled out his pistol and shot the next-closest Terran. The round struck his abdomen, eviscerating him. Clutching intestines that threatened to spill to the ground, he collapsed onto his back.

  Eza swung down his ax, splitting the hamstrung Terran’s skull and spilling chunks of gray matter to the ground.

  Tusque lifted one of the fallen Terrans in his massive hands, tossing him into a wall. His body crumpled upon impact, and, flopping involuntarily as he fell, he collapsed to the ground. The fourth soldier climbed to his feet and fired, the bullet catching the Oterian’s shoulder.

  Tusque looked at the deep gunshot wound, letting thick, black blood seep, and growled deeply. He swung his huge fist backhand, catching the surprised Terran on the side of the face. His head twisted awkwardly over his shoulder with a sickening snap from the base of his neck. He fell limply to the ground.

  Eza cleared his throat to get Tusque’s attention. His arms cover
ed in blood, he pointed into the open-air courtyard beyond the narrow overhang, where Terran soldiers moved into position behind quickly erected barricades. Staring down dozens of gun barrels, Tusque smiled and pointed skyward.

  A faint, birdlike shadow spread over the Terran soldiers, as Ainj glided over the defensive wall and began dropping high explosives from the bandoleer around his chest.

  The makeshift bunkers turned into pillars of blazing infernos, as the explosives rocked the compound. Dusty red sand melted in the heat, turning to glass. Terran soldiers collapsed into the molten sand, their bodies consumed by the fire and shredded from shrapnel. Within both buildings, lights flickered, as the generator struggled against the barrage of concussive blasts.

  As the fires slowly died, seven figures emerged from the smoky remains of soldiers and barricades. In the center, the red-robed man called them to halt before the main outpost doors. Though the building’s facade was damaged by Ainj’s explosive barrage, the sturdy doors held.

  “Tusque,” the heavily robed man said, “please open the doors for us. Everyone else, expect resistance once we’re inside. Remember our priority-recover the data disk. Get it, get out, and then we’ll take care of the base.”

  Nodding to the robed man, the large Oterian reached forward, prying his fingers between the solid doors. With a heave, the strong doors screeched, as metal locks tore and broke free. With a last lurch, Tusque pulled the doors from their hinges and let the stone slabs fall to the ground.

  Weapons drawn, the group entered the outpost’s cool darkness. The central foyer split left and right, leading deeper into the plateau’s hollowed rock.

  “Split into teams of two,” the robed man ordered. “Yen and Eza, take the right wing. Nova and Ixibas, the left. Tusque and I will hold the central corridor. Ainj, you’re on the roof to cover our escape. Remember, we’re on the clock. Our transport off this rock won’t wait if we’re late. Move out.”