Armageddon Saint - Gav Thorpe

by Warhammer 40K

  Moving more quickly than stealthily, we climb up another sloping corridor, splitting at the top to search the nearby chambers. Much like the rest of the rok it’s bare stone, some of it machined away, some of it shaped by nature’s hand.

  The bark of a gun is sharp and shocking in the confines.

  A sound can’t really be dirty, but there’s something about the retort of an ork weapon that makes me think that. A slightly uneven deton­ation of unreliable ammunition, not like the uniform zip of a lasgun or the terrifying snarl-bark of a bolter round.

  One shot, followed by a shout of panic from below us.

  A heartbeat passes.

  A shout. The rattle of autogun fire and another louder shot, ringing back from the stone like a blasphemous whisper in a cathedral.

  ‘Orskya?’ I call in the lull after the salvo.

  From behind me, where we were heading, I hear a thud of boots. More than one pair.

  ‘Burned Man?’ says Fellkas. ‘Incoming company.’

  ‘Take them out. Careful not to hurt the warphead though.’

  ‘We have trouble,’ Orskya’s voice reverberates up the tunnels. ‘Bad situation here.’

  ‘How bad?’

  A grunt and gunfire just behind me draws my attention back to our immediate predicament. Two orks have appeared at a square arch ahead, neither of them small specimens of the species. Fellkas and the wasters drive them back with a ragged fusillade, bullets pinging from the crudely fashioned walls around the doorway.

  ‘They come behind us!’ Orskya’s voice drifts up. ‘Between us and you.’

  ‘Draw them away and get out of the fort,’ I shout back, hoping the orks can’t understand what I’m saying. ‘Make a lot of noise and take them with you so we can get the warphead.’

  ‘I understand, Burned Man. Emperor watch you.’

  A moment later the gunfire resumes, fiercer and longer than before. All I can do is trust that Orskya does what she can to take the heat off us.

  I hear metal clink on stone not far away.

  ‘Down!’ shouts one of the wasters. Kort, I think. I see the stikk bomb roll to a stop a few metres up the corridor as the rest hit the floor. Sparks fountain from one end.

  Too close.

  I jump over Oahebs, cowering beside me, and lash out with a boot, kicking the ork grenade back up the corridor. It clangs off the wall and spirals to a stop just past the archway.

  The stikk bomb explodes as I turn away. Heat washes over me and a few pieces of shrapnel pluck at my coat and trousers.

  ‘Up! Up!’ I bellow through the ringing in my ears.

  I spin back as the others clamber to their feet, opening fire with my laspistol when an ork lumbers out of the chamber, expecting to see chunks of us everywhere I reckon. My first shot hits it in the side of the head, burning through its ear and into the scalp. Howling in pain, it turns, a bulky shotgun-like weapon rising towards me. I fire again, my las-bolt joined by a flurry of bullets from my companions, hitting the face and chest of the brute – it’s barely fifteen metres away, almost impossible to miss.

  ‘Oahebs, with me,’ I shout, starting forward. More bullets whip past us as the others give us cover fire, plucking at the ork’s rags and flesh as it falls, bouncing from the armoured plates on its shoulders. I open fire again, sending more las-bolts into the alien’s face, boiling away an eye with one of the shots.

  ‘Get to the warphead,’ I say as we reach the doorway. Gritting my teeth, I throw myself through the opening, expecting the roar of an ork shoota to greet me.

  I stumble to a halt, finding the second ork with its back to me. In the corner of the small cell is a third xenos, covered in copper bangles and coils from which green sparks spit. The other ork is bent over it, growling and pointing to the door.

  The burlier ork rises and turns, nostrils flaring, eyes narrowing as it sets its gaze on me. I pull my knife. It watches the blade, a rippling smile twisting its lips as it pulls out its own weapon, half a metre of serrated nastiness.

  I scream at it.

  It roars back and lunges.

  I turn and run, diving back through the door as it comes after me.

  ‘Shoot!’ I shout, rolling clear of the archway.

  The ork thunders out, straight into a hail of fire from the others. Green flesh gets torn from thick bones by the sudden storm of bullets, their joint impacts stopping it dead in its tracks. I scramble to my feet and throw myself aside as it steps into the stream of slugs, hacking at my back.

  Turning, sliding along the floor, I add a few shots from the laspistol as it stomps after me, dragging a heavy pistol from its belt.

  I can’t say whether it’s the twentieth or thirtieth hit that takes it down, but it must be close to that number. With a drawn-out groan the ork topples, pistol falling from clawed fingers as it clutches at a fountaining wound in its neck. Cuts and holes mark its head and torso, more blood than skin visible.

  Movement back up the corridor draws my attention to the weirdboy, bolting down the passageway, trailing green lightning. I set off in pursuit, leaping past the dying ork as it makes a swipe at me in its death throes.

  The corridor ends in a sharp drop, where the warphead stops, crouching to the knotted cable ladder tied around a bolt in the wall. It glances back and sees me closing. Letting the rope drop, the ork rises to its full height, bigger than I realised when it was cowering in the chamber. Flecks of green energy swirls around its hand as it raises splayed fingers towards me, a cascade of emerald froth bubbling from its gaping mouth.

  ‘Oahebs!’

  To his credit, the null doesn’t hesitate. Oahebs hurls himself forward, past me, into the storm of psychic lightning flaring from the outstretched hand of the weirdboy. The arcs seem to pass through his body without effect, becoming a dissipating green mist in his wake.

  He body-tackles the ork, driving a shoulder into its gut and twisting as he falls, somehow dragging the creature down. Random flares of green power course across the alien’s flesh as broken pieces of copper fly from its body.

  The weirdboy tries to stand, snarling and howling as Oahebs wraps himself like a serpent around its leg and lower body.

  ‘Kage!’ he shouts, turning his head as a green fist slams down into it. ‘Now, Kage!’

  I pull a small pouch from my belt and throw it, hard as I can, straight into the ork’s face. A plume of yellow-and-white dust explodes from the impact, the spores prepared by Grot engulfing the weirdboy’s head. It takes in a breath on reflex, inhaling the mix of narcotic fungi.

  Sneezing, the warphead reels back, dragging Oahebs towards the end of the passage and the sheer drop. It capers at the very edge of the cliff, trying to kick Oahebs away, moments from unbalancing and plunging to its death and our ruin.

  It topples out of sight.

  A waster flies past me, throwing herself across the passage to grab Oahebs’ ankle as the ork falls, dragging the null towards the edge. Her other hand snags the cable near the bolt, strong fingers sliding along the metal for a second before finding their grip.

  I dash past her, sliding along on my belly at the end of the passage, hands seizing the flailing leg of the warphead as it dangles from Oahebs’ weakening grip.

  Footfalls behind us bring the others to our aid, hands grabbing and pulling, heaving us and the ork back onto the ledge.

  The soporific is working now, the weirdboy snoring deeply in our grasp.

  So far, so good. Now we just need to get out of here.

  With Oahebs, Lanna and Fellkas half-carrying, half-dragging the inert warphead, Kort, Bessda and I lead the way back through the winding maze of the fort’s passages. Coming across a cluster of ork and gretchin bodies, I realise that Orskya has retreated back the way we came.

  ‘We’re in no fit state to get into a serious firefight,’ I tell the others. ‘We can’t go back t
he way we came. In fact, we need to go the other way, if Orskya and the rest are causing as much of a diversion as possible.’

  We turn around and head down the next corridor, listening to the sounds of fighting that occasionally echo along the uneven walls.

  ‘Was that ahead?’ says Fellkas after the echoes of a protracted exchange die down. ‘I think that was ahead.’

  Changing course, we take a right turn, finding ourselves at the top of some steps cut into the rock. There’s only one way, down, so we heave up the warphead between us and gingerly start down the steps. Coming safely to the bottom, I step away from the others through a split in a rock seam that’s been widened with tools. On the other side is a dark space, with a glimmer of sunlight at the far end.

  ‘We’ll head this way,’ I say, but as soon as Kort follows me through the gap we hear ork voices ringing from an opening off to our right. A lamplight gets stronger, highlighting the opening just a few metres away.

  ‘Back, back,’ I tell the others with a wave, slithering through with Kort just a few seconds before the orks enter the large cavern.

  We crouch in the shade and listen. A metallic creaking becomes louder, followed by a resonating clang that brings light streaming into the fort. A few seconds later comes the tramp of feet and the revving of a buggy engine. Looking through the gap I see about twenty orks making their way back through the main gate, the buggy screeching to a halt ahead of them, a few metres from where we are. Stinking fumes billow through the fissure from the idling engine. The gunner at the back snarls something to the driver and brutal laughter follows.

  More orks are coming back, thundering up the gate-ramp. Knots of them are breaking away from the largest group as one of the bigger aliens grunts and bellows orders. I adjust position, trying to look out of the gate to see if I can spot anything of the trade team. They could all be dead, but I can’t see any sign of fighting from here. The orks know something is up though – gretchin are swarming like ants in a disturbed nest, chittering and wailing to each other as their larger cousins direct shouts and kicks at them.

  ‘Maybe back up?’ says Lanna, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder.

  I shake my head.

  ‘Orks could be anywhere by now,’ I reply. My gaze keeps getting drawn back to the buggy, just a short distance away. But the crew look like they’re going nowhere for the moment. ‘Right. We’re gonna have to do this the fast-but-dangerous way. Oahebs, stick with the warphead in case it wakes up. Fellkas, help him. The rest of you, we’re gonna take out the driver and gunner of that buggy. Speed, that’s what we need. Just get them off the buggy long enough for us to get the weirdboy on, okay?’

  There’s some doubtful glances from their scarf-covered faces.

  ‘We can draw this out, sneaking around until we get caught or cornered. Do you want that?’

  Heads shaking shows they don’t.

  ‘We do the stupid but right thing and get that buggy, nice and fast, and drive like mad.’

  This time I get nods.

  We ease ourselves towards the fissure, which is thankfully still swathed in shadow. The gunner steps down from its position on the back of the buggy to lean against the side of the vehicle, taking a mug of something from the driver. I pull myself out of the gap and run, knife in hand, straight towards the ork.

  Leaping onto its back, I wrap an arm around its throat and drive the knife into its ear, stabbing with all of my strength.

  It falls backwards, slamming me into the unforgiving rock as the driver rears from its seat, a bellow of surprise erupting from its fanged mouth. The rest of the team swarm past me, opening fire on the brute, gunning it down in the driving cupola. Torn apart by bullets, it slumps forward in the cab, the engine revving hard as it hits the controls. Bellows from other orks ring around the cavern.

  Kort helps me roll the dead gunner off and I get to my feet while the others haul the weirdboy onto the passenger seat. Gunfire breaks the gloom, bullets whining overhead as the orks realise what’s happening. We kick out the driver’s body and Fellkas, the largest of us, sits in its place. I leap up to the double-barrelled heavy gun on the back, swinging it around to come to bear against the orks rushing towards us along the hall. The rest pile on, grabbing hold of spars and chains as the buggy leaps forward, engine howling protest.

  I open fire, my shots going wildly over the heads of the oncoming aliens as we skid into our acceleration. With the buggy juddering over the uneven floor, the iron sight on the gun’s barrel is worse than useless. I try to bring my aim down but being thrown around like a sack of synthi-grain doesn’t help. Enemy fire pings from the metalwork around us. Kort, crouching on my left, cries out. I feel something zing from the gun breech and cut my left cheek. Opening fire again, I keep the trigger pulled, ammunition belts chewing through the breech as the deafening roar of the gun blots out the sharper barks of ork shootas.

  Fellkas steers us left, avoiding a group of orks firing at us. His diversion slams us into another alien, which flies past me, snarling and spitting, landing heavily in our wake. I swing the gun over, stepping on Kort as I do so. Firing again, I manage to get on target, cutting bloody ribbons of flesh from a trio of orks breaking across our line of exit. Fellkas rams the buggy through their falling bodies, the vehicle bucking as it thuds over their corpses.

  Just a few metres to open air now. Most of the orks are behind us.

  ‘The other buggy!’ warns Fellkas as we burst into the brighter light, taking a hand off the steering bar to point to the right.

  I see the smoke through the swirl of dust a moment before the light of the gun firing. A heavy pound follows the blur of a shell past us, exploding against the gateway just behind.

  ‘Steer for them,’ I tell Fellkas, trampling Kort again as I swing the heavy guns round to the front once more.

  A shell explodes just a metre in front of us. Racing through fire, smoke and dust, we burst from the detonation, gun hammering shots into the hull of the other vehicle. I see its driver slump and the buggy turns hard, wheel hitting a rock. The gunner flies from its perch as the buggy flips over, wheels still throwing dust.

  We’re not clear yet. Fire from the watchtowers streaks towards us – strange beams of red energy that crackle past like snakes of lightning. Fellkas starts to zigzag but I lean over the metal plate separating us and shout at him.

  ‘They can’t aim worth shit anyway, just drive fast!’

  We accelerate but despite my claims, the beams from the towers are converging on us, sizzling closer and closer.

  ‘What’s that?’ I say, leaning over the partition to point at a big red button in the middle of the crude dashboard.

  ‘Hold on and we’ll find out,’ says Fellkas, laughing.

  Everybody grabs hold as the underhiver slams his fist down onto the button.

  Something gurgles in the guts of the buggy, the growl of the engines becoming a higher-pitched shriek as whatever fancy fuel we’ve just introduced ignites. Flames belch from the smokestacks either side of me, and the vehicle leaps forward like a grav-chuter out of a drop-ship. I feel my brain hitting the inside of my skull with the acceleration, Fellkas’ laugh becoming a shriek of terror as we continue to pick up speed, hurtling along the causeway straight between the towers, juddering wheels threatening to wrench control from him every moment.

  Like a bolt from a Space Marine’s gun we punch out of the crater, wheels leaving the floor for at least three seconds before crashing down into the packed dirt beyond. I see blurred shapes going past – maybe ork bodies and a few dressed like wasters?

  ‘I don’t know where the brakes are!’ Fellkas hollers.

  ‘Doesn’t matter,’ I say, unclenching my teeth. I look back at the watchtowers disappearing into the gloom. ‘Just keep going.’

  Seventeen

  BAD OMENS

  We finally manage to bring the buggy under control about
two kilo­metres from the fort. The warphead is still out cold, thankfully. As we chug over the dunes I crouch next to Kort. His eyelids flutter open but his breathing is weak and there’s blood in his mouth and nose. There’s a very unhealthy dark patch spreading through the jerkin under his coat. It reminds me of Karste and I look away, not daring to inspect the wound.

  ‘How do we find the others?’ Fellkas asks, bringing the buggy to a halt on the slope of a ridge. Ahead of us, the fort is a shadow in the distance. I can hear the occasional crack of gunfire, distinct but erratic.

  ‘We’ll circle around and see if we can meet up with Orskya and her group. Then we find the Colonel, if we can.’

  So that’s the plan and it takes about an hour until we finally come across one of the waster scouts, about a kilometre and a half east of the fort. She takes us back to an impromptu camp where Orskya has sentries out, a few others tending a handful of wounded. The buggy grumbles to a halt and I jump off. Between me and Bessda we get Kort off the buggy.

  ‘Shit, I’ve been shot,’ says Fellkas as he clambers out of the driving seat. He points to dark red down his left leg. ‘Can’t feel it though.’

  ‘Lubricant,’ says Oahebs, fishing under the seat to pull out a severed pipe. ‘You’re fine.’

  ‘Frag you,’ snaps the underhiver, pushing Oahebs away.

  ‘Keep an eye on the warphead,’ I tell Oahebs, before the situation escalates.

  We take Kort over to the treatment area set up under a stretch of canvas. Two of the people under there are dead, faces covered with their hats. We leave Kort there and while the others gather around the buggy, exchanging stories, I find Orskya.

  ‘Good to see you,’ she says.

  ‘You too,’ I reply with a smile. I jab a thumb towards the buggy. ‘We got the ork. Did you see what happened to Schaeffer and the others?’

  ‘I tell my people place to meet,’ she says, folding her arms. ‘We go there and wait.’

  ‘Wish I’d thought of that,’ I say.

  We ditch the ork vehicle. It’s a deathtrap anyway, and the exhaust fumes will attract attention in time. Heading north, we follow the scouts back to the rendezvous point chosen by Orskya. Cresting a hill that looks like all of the others, the fort well out of sight behind us, we come upon a few wasters making camp. Orskya hurries ahead into the dell and then returns with the news.