“What are you going to be doing?” Gutierrez asked.
“I’m going to chase down Sams and the civvies.”
Ryck hefted his HGL. On impulse, he handed it over to Caruthers.
“You don’t think you might need it?” the corporal asked.
“No. Maybe. It’ll just slow me down. I’ve got my blunderbuss and Ruger, and that will have to be enough.”
“You understand?” Ryck asked.
“Got it,” they said in unison.
“Then take off. You need to cover the mines from that direction.”
Both shook hands with Ryck, then started back. Ryck stood up, adjusted his equipment load, and then started off, running parallel along the ridgeline. The air pressure on GenAg 13 was a little higher than what he was used to, and that compensated for the slightly lower oxygen partial pressure, so Ryck felt comfortable as he ran. He picked up the pace. He tried to look through the trees on the slope to see either the column or the pursuing capys, but he couldn’t catch a glimpse of either.
Behind him, a mine went off. The capys had finally made the ridge. The blast was immediately followed by the unmistakable reports of the HGLs. The boys were engaged.
Ryck couldn’t do anything about that now, so he tried to focus, to calculate where the column would be. He didn’t want to pass their position before heading downslope. Twice, he almost turned, but each time second guessed himself. Finally, he figured he had pulled abreast of the column and turned to start running down the hill. He had to be careful, though. Falling and twisting an ankle could spell disaster.
He reached the bottom quickly and was almost immediately into the more open teak plantation. He felt better about opening up his pace, and soon he was breathing harder and he pushed his limits.
He jumped an irrigation line and rounded a pump house when he saw them. Two capys were crouched on their haunches in front of him, focusing further into the forest. He slid to stop, his feet digging into the soft soil, not ten meters from them. They turned around in unison, emotionless as always. Both reached for their weapons as they stood up while Ryck fumbled for his blunderbuss. Ryck was quicker, and he flipped off the safety to fire. At the last second, he lowered his aim from the armored torso to the groin of the one nearest him. He fired the harpoon, which struck true, just above the leg juncture. It penetrated the shield and into the capy’s body before flaring open. The capy collapsed in a heap.
Ryck had his Ruger, his grenades, and two toads, but the Ruger would be useless against the remaining capy’s shield. Ryck hit the misters as he dove to the ground just as the capy fired. Ryck was going down, so the misters were probably ineffective, especially at close range, but by diving, the energy ball flashed over Ryck. Ryck felt the tingle, but nothing else. There was a whine that sounded like something charging. He knew he had to act fast.
His hand closed on his Hwa Win combat knife, the one he’d paid 350 units for at the Semper Fi shop back on Tarawa. He jumped up and charged, immediately closing the distance between the two of them. An energy ball appeared in the cradle just as he reached the capy. Using one hand to push the gun up past his shoulder, he tried to stick the creature with his knife. Immediately, as his hand penetrated the shield, his arm felt like it was going to sleep. The knife’s tip skittered across the thing’s armor, pushing up past its left shoulder. His legs whipped to the left, and that swung him around, almost past the capy. He held on with his right arm, though, and that acted as a pivot point. Somehow, Ryck ended up clinging to the back of the capy as it tried to turn and face him.
Ryck scrambled for a better position and managed to shift into a standing rear naked choke. He tried to pull back on the capy’s head with his left arm to expose the neck, but the thing was unbelievably strong. The head wouldn’t move. One of its hands reached down to grab Ryck’s thigh, and Ryck thought he was going to yank his leg right off. In desperation, Ryck raised the knife and stabbed down, exactly as Sgt MacPruit had told them not to do back during MCMA training back on Alexander. Overhead stabbing was just not very effective, but while hanging from the back of the capy, it was his only option. The tempered durosteel blade slid into the capy’s neck. The creature started wheeling about, trying to shake Ryck off. Ryck plunged the knife again and again, hoping to find something vulnerable among the heavy neck muscles. Ryck almost let go when the capy slammed him into a tree, but the creature was slowing, and the force was not quite enough to shake him. Finally, Ryck hit something vital, and with a huge exhalation, the capy went down. Still clinging to its back, Ryck stabbed it five or six more times for good measure.
The capy was still, but Ryck slowly pulled his left arm from under it and slid back. He stood and gave it a kick, but it was dead. He looked at the other one, and it was dead, too. Ryck tried to retrieve the harpoon, but the extraction function wasn’t working. The blades were hung up in the capy’s body. Without hesitation, Ryck cut the thing out with his combat knife, wiped it in the leaves, and loaded it back into his blunderbuss.
The fact that the capys had their own kind of recon team deployed shouldn’t have surprised him. And if they could communicate through their bioreceptors, as the xenobiologists thought, they had to have sent what was happening to them, and if they had eyes on the column, that would have been passed, too. Ryck had to hurry.
He broke into a flat out run through the trees, trying to catch the column. Caution was gone: time was of the essence. He finally just caught sight of them 200 meters away as they passed between the trees. He called out, and in doing so, never saw the irrigation pipe. His left boot toe went under it as his body plunge forward. He shrieked as his tibia and fibula snapped.
“Mother grubbing fuck!” he screamed as the pain shot through him.
He looked back at his leg and almost threw up as shock set in. If he was in his PICS, drugs would already be flowing through his body. But he was in grubbing recon, where they were expected to grin and bear it.
He twisted to a sitting position, the pain of doing so almost making him pass out. But his tendons and muscles brought his bent leg a little more into line.
Forget the pain. The pain is nothing. Get on with your mission! He ran the mantra over and over in his mind.
He struggled to his feet and started walking. The first step was torture as he felt broken bone ends scrape against each other. The second was better. It hurt the same, but Ryck was beginning to compartmentalize it, to push it to a corner of his mind. He still knew the pain was there, but the rest of his brain began to be able to function again. Part of him wondered how much damage he was doing to himself, but his mission took priority.
Even with only one good leg, he started catching up to the column. At 100 meters to their flank, he tried to call out, but only a croak emerged from his throat. He swallowed, and then tried again.
“Stop!”
Miracle of miracle, someone heard him. A woman wearing his blue skivvies (he noted in a corner of his mind), saw him and pointed. The column stopped, and by the time Ryck had struggled forward, Sams had reached him.
Ryck collapsed on the dirt, his leg no longer supporting him.
“Ryck, what’s going on? We’ve got to move it!”
“Change of plans. The capys’ can’t climb. We need to get to another LZ up there,” he said, pointing in back of himself. “I’ve got Shart and Crutch leading the main body of capys away, then they’re going to double back and meet us there. But I ran into two capys in the woods back there watching you, and the rest of them know exactly where you are. Even if you make it to the alternate LZ before them, unless the shuttle lands immediately, the capys will get there before you can load.”
“But I don’t know if some of these people can make it up a slope.”
“They’re going to have to. Turn now, and head up. Here’s the map with the LZ. Get them there.”
“But what about you? You can’t walk.”
“You heard him, Sams,” Tara said as she came up, now with a blunderbuss in her hands. “We
need to turn the column now and move it.”
As she moved off to the front of the column, Ryck had to ask, despite the situation, a simple “Sams?”
“Ah, it was easier. She’s been pretty helpful.” He looked up and shouted “McManus!”
One of the men hurried over and knelt beside Ryck, looking at his leg.
“Can you do anything about that?” Sams asked.
“Oh, that’s pretty bad. He needs surgery.”
“Well there’s no freaking surgeon here, is there now? You’re the medic, show me what you can do.”
The column began a ponderous turn to the right to move into the trees as McManus contemplated the situation.
“OK, this isn’t enough, but get me one of those branches, one about yay long,” he said, holding his hands about a meter apart. Then to Ryck, “Do you have any of those zip ties?”
“In my left cargo pocket.”
McManus reached inside, pulling out everything and dropping it in the dirt before picking out some white zip ties. “Look, this won’t be great, and these things are thin, so they’ll cut your blood off if they are tight enough to give you support. When we get to the shuttle, we’ve got to cut this off, OK?”
“My leg?” Ryck asked, confused.
“No, this,” he said as one might talk to a child, holding up the branch Sams had retrieved.
There was a blast, maybe 400 meters back along the columns trace.
“I heard your mines go off and thought I’d set a few of my own,” Sams said. “They’re getting closer. I think they’ve gained 300 meters in the last 30 minutes. Can you hurry it up, McManus?”
With sure hands, the medic placed the branch alongside of Ryck’s leg, then with firm tugs, tightened the zip ties. Ryck had to bite back a scream.
“Can you get up?” the medic asked.
Ryck struggled to his feet. He gave a sort of hop-skip, putting almost no pressure on his leg, but it still hurt.
He kept his face calm as he said, “I can make it.”
“Rancer! Come here!” Sams shouted over Ryck’s shoulder.
A fit-looking man in his 40’s came up. He was a little shorter than Ryck, his dark skin once again covered with the dirt and grime of the forced march.
“I want you to help the lieutenant, got it? Make sure he keeps up,” Sams told the man.
“Shout out if you need more help,” Sams told Ryck. “I’ve got to get these people moving.”
Sams looked back to see if the capys were in sight yet, then started shouting out to speed up the movement towards the slopes.
“How do you want to do this?” Rancer asked, concern evident on his face.
“Um, well, how about if you give me a shoulder?” Ryck suggested.
Sams had been clever. With Rancer a little shorter, Ryck’s left arm fit comfortably over his shoulders. Ryck took a hesitant step which drove jolts of pain from his leg all the way to his neck, but he thought it would be manageable.
Just as Ryck and Rancer moved off the path and into the trees, Sams raised his HGL and fired off two shots.
“Move it!” he screamed, physically pushing the last straggler into the trees.
The teak forest gave some degree of cover, and with no undergrowth, it didn’t slow the column down in and of itself. However, with Ryck, Mr. Saunders, and Reiko, along with some other slowly moving people, the column was not making time, and if the capys got close enough, there was no undergrowth to dissipate their energy balls.
Ryck pulled out his blunderbuss and held it in his right hand, ready to use it if needed. With only one HGL in the group, every weapon was needed.
Tara came running back down the line, and Sams shouted out, “What are you doing? I need you up there!”
“No, you need me here,” she responded, holding up her blunderbuss. “I’ve got Gracie leading the column. She’s done sampling up there and knows exactly where to go. So how about you give me a couple more of the mines and you worry about keeping the tail end here moving.”
Sams looked like he was going to argue, but then simply handed over three mines to the woman. Ryck felt like he should stop to make sure Tara knew what she was doing. The mines were sensitive, after all. But frankly, it was all he could do just to keep moving. Each step was agony, and he was having a harder and harder time compartmentalizing the pain.
Up ahead and off to the right, he heard the faint sounds of HGL fire. Gutierrez and Caruthers were still at it.
They better be doubling back soon, he thought.
If Ryck thought walking through the plantation was tough, once he hit the slope and the denser wild vegetation, it became torture. He couldn’t swing his left foot as much and had to lift it higher to get it up and forward. After only a few steps, he stopped trying, using his right leg to step, then dragging his left to meet it, then the right again. The vegetation grabbed at is legs, trying to stop him.
An explosion sounded in back of him. He thought Tara had accidently set off a mine, and he looked back, but Tara was walking backwards only five meters behind him, blunderbuss at the ready.
That meant a capy had set off the mine, and that meant the capys were less than 200 meters behind them. They were closing the distance. If the column had still been within the plantation, the capys would have been within range of the rear of the column and they could have taken them under fire.
Ryck felt a rush of despair. This was the second time he’d been in full retreat, something Marines were not noted for. He’d lost most of his platoon on GKN with the capys chasing them. He’d joined recon so he wouldn’t have to worry about being responsible for so many other lives, but here he was, running for his life, with 27 civilians in his charge. This was a wickedly devastating dose of déjà vu.
Ryck kept trying to turn around to spot the capys, and that twisted Rancer. The man didn’t complain, though. Ryck knew the slope would slow down the capys as well, but if they got close enough right as the plantation ended, they could be well within visual and weapons range.
Ryck flipped the butterfly valve and started misting, but only in the back of him. He hoped the mist would cover Rancer as well. He didn’t give it much credence, but maybe it had helped Caruthers, so it couldn’t hurt.
There was another blast, just at the edge of visual range. Tara had made time to set at least one more mine with the capys on her ass. Ryck looked over at her as she made her way backwards up the slope. She had a big welt across her side, and one foot was bloody, but she didn’t falter. Ryck had to admit that she was one tough hombre.
“There they are!” Sams said to no one in particular as he fired two rounds from his HGL.
“You got one!” Tara shouted in excitement. Both ducked low into the undergrowth, and in a crouch, pushed their way uphill. There wasn’t any way Ryck could crouch, and Rancer wouldn’t abandon him.
When Ryck felt the kiss of energy, Rancer cried out, “My arm! Bastards!”
Ryck wondered if the mister was actually helping. Maybe it only partially covered Rancer as well. That would explain why his left arm had received more of the effects of the energy ball.
Ryck had no time to contemplate that as Rancer physically dragged Ryck forward, each tug wrenching his leg. Ryck was lost in a sea of agony, only peripherally aware of anything else. He wasn’t sure how long it took or how far they went. He was vaguely aware of Rancer cursing, of someone else, maybe Tara, coming over to take Ryck’s blunderbuss and putting his right arm over her shoulder. He kept trying to walk, to move his legs, but he wasn’t sure how effective he was.
And then, he was out of the trees, up on the grass and rock plateau. The fact that this was the new LZ registered deep within his mind, forcing him to shut out the pain and take stock of the situation.
Most of the civilians were standing in small groups, talking nervously among themselves. Several of them were down on their backs, the strain of the flight too much for them. A couple of hundred meters away, two Marines were running forward toward them.
; Ryck felt a rush of relief. All of his team had made it. Whether there were capys on Gutierrez and Caruthers’ tail, or whether the capys on the slope below them would make it up soon was immaterial for the moment. His Marines were back together.
“Sams! Is everybody up here?”
“Just did a head count, Ryck. Every swinging dick is here, ready to go. Where’s your shuttle?”
Ryck’s checked his watch. They still had five minutes. The timing had been close, which was good, but was five minutes too much time? How long before the capys made it up there?
“Shart! Crutch! Get over here and cover the slope. Where’s my HGL?” Ryck asked.
“Here it is, Caruthers said, holding up the bunker buster.” “Mine’s out of ammo, so I’m using yours.”
Ryck almost asked for it back, but it was better in Caruther’s hands. Ryck had a brief flashback of giving a weapon to another Marine back on GKN, and what that had cost him. He forced the thought back down into the recesses of his mind.
“Give me the flares, then,” Ryck said. “I want you two right there on those rocks. You see any movement below you, light them up!”
Tara and one of the men, both carrying blunderbusses, silently went to join the two Marines. Ryck didn’t even bother to comment. If the capys made the plateau, it was over, anyway, so it didn’t matter much if the two helped his Marines.
“Sams, get everyone ready to go. If the shuttle lands, I want everyone rushing it and onboard. If the capys get here, tell everyone to scatter. Maybe some will make it, and if there isn’t an interdiction, they might get picked up later.”
Ryck suddenly felt nauseous, and he bent over at the waist, afraid he was going to vomit. Bent over, he caught sight of his leg. That was the first time he’d seen his leg since he broke it. Shards of bone were sticking out of his skin and through his trou, and the foot was twisted 30 degrees to the right. Ryck almost passed out, but managed to fall to a sitting position. He refused to look at his leg as he took deep breaths, centering himself.
Lieutenant (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 3) Page 21