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Quake Page 22

by Andy Remic


  He suddenly felt sick of death. Sick of killing. Sick of slaughter.

  ‘Don’t be a pussy,’ said Kade.

  ‘I’m just tired.’

  ‘Don’t be so soft -people trying to slot each other in a fun-filled military scenario is what makes a human human; it’s what sets us apart from animals ... it’s what makes life so fucking worth living.‘

  ‘Not for me.’

  ‘Want to bet?’

  Warily, gripping his M24 carbine, Carter stepped away from the machine-gun nest. He could hear the truck’s engine, still idling with a low grumble and spitting exhaust fumes. Boots pounded the bridge behind him and he whirled low - to see Mongrel’s face looming into view. Carter returned to cover the compound in front of him with his weapon.

  ‘I hear heavy gunfire - what fuck happened?’ Mongrel stumbled to a halt. ‘Bozhey moy!’ he whispered, surveying the carnage.

  Carter lit a cigarette.

  ‘You kill them all?’

  ‘Let’s find out.’

  Covering opposing arcs of fire, Carter and Mongrel moved warily forward, halting and staring at the compound across which they had stumbled while on Jam’s trail. The buildings were all fashioned from wood, some painted in brown, a couple in dull blue. They were raised on low piles and beneath each hut was a dark and gloomy patch of dead ground. There were ten huts, set out in a semicircle in a natural hollow. Rough vegetation grew between the decrepit old buildings, and many walls had been badly patched with crooked joinery.

  ‘A good place to defend,’ said Mongrel, his gun pointing from building to building.

  Carter nodded, drawing heavily on his cigarette. ‘This is an old Second World War barracks or camp,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen pictures of this place before ...’

  ‘Used by?’

  ‘The Nazis.’ Carter smiled bitterly. ‘How fucking fitting.’

  They moved through the camp, clearing the buildings one at a time but each knowing instinctively that they were alone. The Nex were not the sort of enemy to set up camp and hide - in battle they were fearless and would not squat in a building waiting to be discovered. They would attack ...

  Happy that they were finally alone, Carter moved to the truck while Mongrel moved over and nudged one of the Nex corpses with his boot. ‘By fuck, they stink ...’

  ‘You think they smell bad? You should have tried the TankerRuns,’ said Carter, reaching into the idling truck’s cab and killing the engine. Silence settled across the camp and Carter shivered. ‘A million rotting diseased bodies ... now that was a fucking smell. Christ, this place is awful - you can feel it in your bones. It has a bad, history.’

  ‘Yeah. Come on, we need to find out where they took Jam ...’

  ‘If he’s still alive.’

  ‘Yeah, if he’s still alive.’

  Most of the wooden huts were empty, or had nothing but simple camp beds and the most basic of equipment. One stood out as the obvious HQ and had many locked cabinets and high-tech computer equipment - which appeared out of place against the ancient and rotting surroundings.

  They searched the HQ and used Mongrel’s ECube as a SecScanner, flicking free digital locks and hijacking the computer systems to allow access to hidden files. After thirty minutes of snooping, Mongrel slumped back in a chair and wiped a fine sheen of sweat from his forehead.

  ‘It’s all fucking financial data,’ he said at last, confused.

  ‘Yeah, food supplies, stone and cement prices, exchanges of stock for things like diesel and LVA fuel.’

  ‘Have you scanned these?’

  Carter shook his head. On the desk were several thin metal sheets, with encoded data pitted in their surfaces. Mongrel idly ran the ECube over them and projected a digital beam onto the nearest wall.

  Figures flooded the surface in eerie blue as the ECube decoded: columns and rows of numbers and data.

  ‘More buying and selling,’ said Mongrel.

  ‘Wait.’

  ‘What?’

  Carter peered through the figures, the beams of the projected blue light cutting neatly through his cigarette smoke. ‘Look, the third column details the transfer of titanium-carbide drill bits. And the fifth is cooling oil, used in drilling.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘This looks like equipment for mining - oil or ... LVA?’

  ‘This irrelevant to us, Carter.’

  ‘No, look at the digital stamp and the signature. Director General Oppenhauer, Commissioner for the Fuel Inspectorate of Eastern Europe. He’s the guy who inspects all the new LVA drilling operations that have been opening in Eastern Europe - why would he be authorising sales, purchases and transfers of this equipment? And what the fuck have the Nex got to do with LVA?’

  Mongrel shook his head. ‘Maybe after Feuchter and Durell were killed the Nex signed on as mercenaries. Maybe they protect places like this and you just machine-gunned a load of innocent merc soldiers.’

  ‘It’s still illegal to employ a Nex, ever since Spiral shut down the original operation decades ago. An abomination against God, one politician called it, although in my humble opinion all fucking politicians are fucking abominations against God themselves. Just by their very natures.’ He grinned sourly.

  ‘What connection then?’

  Carter scratched at his stubble. ‘Not sure, Mongrel, not sure ... what could the Nex possibly want with LVA? It’s just a fucking fuel - sure, they could make money out of it but... you make money out of lots of things.’

  ‘Maybe they funding another war ...’

  Carter met Mongrel’s stare. ‘Doesn’t even bear thinking about,’ he said softly. ‘Come on, I don’t think we’re going to find anything here to do with Jam - we’re at a dead end. We should go down and check out that second log cabin - maybe he spotted another nest of Nex there.’

  ‘Yeah, and those dead Nex you kill, they stink.’

  ‘Lead the way.’

  ‘After you, Mr Carter,’ said Mongrel, a glint in his dark eyes. ‘This looks like your gig now.’

  It was late evening and Carter halted beside the truck. Mongrel nearly stumbled into the back of him.

  ‘Don’t fucking move, and don’t make a fucking sound,’ said Carter.

  ‘What is it?’

  Carter rolled his eyes. ‘There’s a sniper up on the hill ...’ He eased free his Browning whilst his visible hand dangled free, holding the M24 carbine. His left hand disguised by Mongrel’s bulk, he turned his body slightly, an easygoing smile on his face as his head turned and—

  The Browning flashed up.

  And Carter began firing ...

  The cliffside was steep, rocky, scattered with bushes and a few tiny clinging trees. Bullets whined, spitting dust from rock and thudding into vegetation. A scream echoed, followed by, ‘Stop! Stop!’

  Carter, dropping his M24 to the hard-packed ground, ejected the Browning’s mag and slotted another in its place. Mongrel lifted his carbine and covered the hillside. Carter took the Browning in both hands and sighted down the short barrel.

  ‘Throw out your weapon,’ he bellowed.

  There came a short pause, and a rifle with a telescopic sight attached sailed through the air and landed on the hard ground with a clatter. Then a woman stood up, waving weakly, one hand to her shoulder where blood was visible, seeping between her fingers.

  ‘You hit her,’ said Mongrel.

  ‘Good.’

  ‘But it’s a woman ...’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘But she ...’

  ‘Yeah? She could still have put a round in the back of your fucking dumb-skull head. Mongrel, you’ve always been a dickhead when it came to women - go on, help her down and I’ll cover you.’

  Mongrel moved forward, warily, as the woman scrambled down the steep cliffside and slipped, rolling and sliding the last twenty feet to hit the ground hard. She sat up, covered in dust, coughing. She had a sweet oval face, perfectly unblemished skin, and thin blonde hair tied back into a ponytail. She wore rugged outdoor clo
thing with natural colours designed to blend with her surroundings. And blood was pouring from her shoulder.

  Casting around, eyes and ears alert, scanning the rest of the hillside, Carter followed even more carefully and watched Mongrel help her to her feet.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘Please don’t kill me.’ Her English was good, but laced with a heavy accent.

  ‘That depends on your answers.’

  The woman’s gaze moved to the truck, and the pile of Nex. ‘Oh,’ she said, eyes riveted on the carnage, the strewn limbs, the gaping maws, the strings of flesh.

  She peered into Carter’s face. ‘You kill them all?’

  ‘Yes. Now answer the fucking question or you’ll be next on the fucking pile ...’

  ‘Carter!’ snapped Mongrel, frowning.

  ‘My name is Mila. I work for a small unit called the SVLA who seek to kill those ...’ she gestured. ‘They have invaded us, our country, they have camps all over the world ... and they killed my brother ...’

  ‘So you were going to pick them all off with your little pea-shooter?’

  ‘No, I was just observing, watching them come and go. You have done a job for us all ... I cannot believe you spotted me.’

  Carter ignored her, turned, and moved to the rifle. It was old, polished, well cared for. More like a family heirloom than a working weapon. Carter threw it to Mongrel, who caught it in one huge hand and looked at the scratched stock.

  ‘She survive?’

  ‘I need few minutes to clean wound,’ said Mongrel. ‘Luckily, your round tore through muscle and not shatter bone. Lucky your fucking aim was out.’

  ‘There was a bush in the way.’ Carter grinned. ‘Now, come on, we need to move out ... we need to get away from this place. You can sort her out in the woods.’

  ‘Why are you here?’ asked Mila, her features screwed in pain but her teeth clenching as if trying to put on a brave face.

  ‘We’re looking for somebody.’

  ‘Mongrel, you dick!’

  ‘What fucking harm, Carter? She might have seen something! She say herself she been sat watching the Nex ... maybe she see our friends? Yes?’ He glanced towards Mila, who was nodding.

  ‘A man? Short dark hair, short beard, travelling with a real big man and a woman?’

  Mila looked nervously from Carter to Mongrel, and then back again.

  ‘Yeah.’ Carter nodded, eyes suddenly wide. ‘You saw them? Here?’

  ‘Here,’ said Mila softly, blood running between her fingers.

  Carter ignored her obvious pain. ‘Had they been captured?’

  ‘The first man had, yes. They beat him - kicked him when he was on the ground. But the others ...’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘They loaded their bodies into the back of a truck. Like that one. With dark grey motorcycles.’

  ‘Gotta be them,’ breathed Mongrel. ‘Fuck ... that means Slater and TT dead. Fuck. What did they do with man who still alive? One they beat?’

  ‘They took him to the Kataja Quarry. I could show you ...’

  ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘I followed. I was gathering information, remember? Watching them. But I couldn’t go too close, these people - with the copper eyes - they are crawling all over the place. It is far too risky for me to approach the quarry itself.’

  ‘How far is it?’

  ‘About fifty kilometres from here.’

  ‘Come on, let’s get back to the bikes - we can sort out her wound and plan our route.’ Carter turned and slowed Mongrel to help the woman along the dirt road behind him.

  They passed the pile of Nex corpses and Carter did not look down.

  They were nothing more than dead meat.

  Reaching the bridge they stepped out onto the wide thick timbers. Carter turned, gesturing to Mongrel to check his weapon, when he saw something, a glint - a change - in Mongrel’s eyes. His head snapped round to see, at the entrance to the bridge, a creature ... it was a good head over six feet tall, with a huge neck and a face from a nightmare. It had twisted, drooling fangs and small copper eyes - and torched black skin, as if this thing had been burnt. The body was heavily muscled and bare from the waist up - but from the lower abdomen black armour merged with flesh and scattered in irregular glinting panels down its groin and legs. Long claws extended from thick black fingers and Carter stared in horror as the figure sighted him—

  And seemed to smile.

  Like a bad drug-induced dream his words came back to haunt him. ‘Next time, fucker,’ he had snarled ... and suddenly his show of bravado didn’t seem like such a good idea.

  ‘My name is Dake, and I’ll be waiting for all eternity. ‘

  Unfortunately, this particular eternity hadn’t actually lasted that long.

  It had come around much quicker.

  Carter swallowed hard.

  ‘What is it?’ yelled Mongrel, his carbine lifting—

  And then they realised that the creature carried a weapon.

  It opened fire, heavy boots pounding swiftly across the bridge towards them, saliva pooling from the twisted deformed mouth and bullets hammering from the submachine gun it carried—

  They turned and dived for the protection of the machine-gun nest, rolling into temporary safety. But before they could do anything there came a crunch of boots on rock and the creature was staring down at them, twisted jaws working silently—

  ‘Carter,’ it hissed.

  Carter’s M24 opened fire and the Nex was punched backwards from the rocks under a hail of bullets. The gun yammered in Carter’s hands until he released the trigger; the explosions echoed around the valley, fading rapidly, and in the silence that then fell Carter glanced at Mongrel.

  ‘It fucking knows you?’ Mongrel scowled.

  ‘Long story.’

  ‘I hope you just killed it.’

  ‘Don’t fucking bank on it.’

  Carter poked his head warily from the confines of the machine-gun nest. Then, followed closely by Mongrel and Mila, he stepped onto the packed earth of the road—

  A roar erupted from the opposite side of the rocks.

  Carter calmed his breathing.

  ‘Go on, then,’ said Mongrel.

  Carter glanced back at him and smiled grimly. ‘Cheers, mate,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you go first?’

  ‘I ain’t going first,’ mumbled Mongrel. ‘I got fucking wounded woman to look after ...’

  Carter moved forward - and the ScorpNex attacked, slapping Carter’s sub-machine gun out of the way with a heavy claw. The gun skittered along the dry road. Carter ducked a heavy blow and whirled low, skipping backwards ...

  ‘You remember me, little man?’

  ‘I could never forget a face like that,’ snapped Carter dryly.

  Again it leapt at Carter with awesome speed, and he dodged a blow, swaying to one side and then skipping out of the huge ScorpNex’s way. Suddenly it whirled on Mongrel, and with a mighty blow sent him flying backwards to land on his back, blood flooding from his nose. Carter charged as Dake whirled—

  He slammed his fist three times into the creature’s nightmarish face, heavy smashing right hooks, then ducked low under a double whirling slash of the creature’s massive claws. He dodged left and hammered a side-kick to the ScorpNex’s chest - but the impact had little effect and the creature grabbed Carter’s leg. It launched him through the air to land heavily on the ground where he bounced and rolled to a halt. Carter uncurled, stood smoothly and drew his Browning, snarling.

  He started shooting.

  The ScorpNex took five bullets - flinching with each impact - by the time it reached Carter, but had managed to sidestep five more. It struck the gun from Carter’s grip and blood splashed his face and arms as it grabbed him by the head in both heavy claws and lifted him from the ground. Carter gasped, the pressure pounding through his brain, but he lifted both boots smoothly and with his heels he hammered the ScorpNex’s face once, twice, three, four, five, six, seven times until
he felt its fangs and then its jaw crack—

  It dropped Carter—

  Who sprinted towards the bridge. In a second the ScorpNex was after him, bounding along almost on all fours, heavy arms and claws lowered to help drag its twisted frame along the ground. Carter sped out onto the bridge and the ScorpNex was right behind him. He knew then that he could not outrun the creature. It was faster and stronger and infinitely more powerful than a mere human ...

  ‘Let me have him ...’

  ‘I will burn him ...’

  ‘I will fuck him hard ...’

  Carter fumbled in his webbing, pulled free an HPG -a chemical grenade - and dropped it onto the bridge, where it rolled for a moment, awaiting the initiation burst. Dake leapt at Carter who dodged a heavy blow, smashing a fist into Dake’s battered face where Carter’s boots had already wrought serious damage. Carter evaded another blow, then a third and he was backing away across the bridge’s beams as he counted—

  And initiated the HPG sequence with a mental impulse from an implanted augmentation.

  The HPG exploded and Carter caught the edge of the blast. It picked him up and threw him down the bridge, where he landed tumbling, limbs flailing, and rolled to a confused halt. The ScorpNex was flung, twisting and thrashing, against the heavy iron struts of the bridge, crushing bones and snapping one thick iron beam which sagged, its supporting bolts severed.

  A ragged hole appeared in the timbers of the bridge, four metres in diameter, its edges splintered with thick daggers of wood. The valley lay below the hole - a distant expanse of greenery.

  Silence seemed to reign for a moment—

  ‘Carter!’

  Mongrel was sprinting as Carter rolled to his knees and coughed, spitting and heaving onto the beams beneath him. He took a deep breath, calming himself from the sudden explosion of violence, blood streaming from his nose and ears. Then he climbed shakily to his feet and started to jog back towards the jagged hole and the prostrate figure of the ScorpNex.

  Is it dead? he thought.

  It just took a fucking HPG blast...

  It must be dead ...

  There came a crackling of chitinous armour.

  Slowly, the ScorpNex uncurled and climbed to its feet.

 

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