Grendel Unit

by Bernard Schaffer

  Vic held up his hands and said, "On second thought, he won't be hard to find at all."

  Jebediah knew he was close to dying. He had to be, he was hallucinating. He heard voices he did not recognize, saying, "Let us through! This is our mess. We're here to clean it up."

  Hot blood was pumping out of his chest, through his fingers. He was fascinated by the hole in his body and the ruined skin around it. He could feel life slipping out of him like water spilling out of a pitcher, slowly going empty.

  "I am a medic, trained for combat injuries," one of them snapped. "Get that gun out of my face and let me through. That man is about to die!"

  "Medic," Jebediah whispered. He raised his hand in the air, flopping it back and forth. "Medic," he groaned. "I'm hit."

  Two men rushed toward him then, both of them bending down and inspecting his injuries. One of them had a thin face, with deep lines etched on either side of his mouth. He began fumbling with a medical pouch on his waist, saying, "That's not an electrostatic injury. He's been shot with some sort of projectile."

  "Fix him," the commanding officer said.

  "I've never seen this kind of injury, Vic!"

  The commander grabbed the medic by the arms, shaking him violently. "We made a promise, Frank. No more victims. I said, fix him!"

  Jebediah blinked the stinging sweat from his eyes, trying to focus on the two small gold bars pinned to the man's collar. "Captain?" he whispered.

  "That's right. Captain Victor Cojo, Grendel Unit. What's your name, sir?"

  "Jebediah. Gunnery Sergeant...Third Battalion." He clenched his eyes in pain and gasped, "That bastard. He…he…he took my little girl. Please. Don't let him hurt her."

  Vic reached down and took the man's hand in his, squeezing it firmly. "Well, Sergeant, you wait here. I'm going to go get your daughter. She'll be wanting to see you when she comes out, so let Frank patch you up, all right?"

  Jebediah reached for him as he stood up, wheezing, but Frank pressed both hands down on the man's chest and forced him back. "Vic, I don't know if I can treat this," Frank said.

  "Of course you can," Vic said calmly. "You've got the steadiest hands of any man I know." He turned toward the barn and inspected it for entry points. He could only see a doorway on one side, and beyond that, darkness. Doorway it is, then, he thought. He looked to Monster and Buehl and said, "You both stay here and help Frank. I'll be back in a minute."

  The mantipor snickered and walked past Vic, heading for the barn door. Buehl followed behind him and patted Vic on the shoulder, saying, "Like hell. Let's go finish this, once and for all."

  They stacked up alongside the door, pressing themselves close to the wall. Vic gently pulled the door open, trying to peek into the darkness, hoping the last thing he saw wasn't a bright pistol flash. He slowly worked his way around the door frame, letting his eyes adjust. The barn was filled with rusting equipment and stunk like wet hay. Off to the side, he saw a ladder leading up to a second-story loft, and he could hear the soft sobs of a little girl crying, her voice muffled by someone's hand.

  Vic turned to his men and pointed his finger in the air, directing them follow him. He moved quickly and quietly toward the ladder, crouching at the bottom and calling out, "Yultorot. It's Victor Cojo. I came to speak with you."

  There was a pause, then Yultorot called out, "It's kind of a bad time at the moment, Captain. I have company, you see."

  "I'm coming up," Vic said. "I think we can help each other."

  Feet scuffled across the floor above, and Maria cried out in terror. "If you come up here, I will splatter this child's brains all over the ceiling, do you understand me?" Yultorot bellowed.

  "I'm not here for the girl," Vic said calmly. "I came for more important reasons. Listen, all I'm asking you to do is give me a few minutes." He wrapped one of his hands around the ladder's nearest rung and he said, "I met a lot of your people at Gratersfield. I…I think we can work together." He looked back at Monster and held his hand up to the mantipor, telling him to stay quiet and out of sight. "I came all this way to find you, because…because I need you, brother. Please. Help me find the light."

  There was a long pause, and Yultorot's voice was quiet when he said, "Come up."

  Vic leaned close to Buehl, "When I move, you grab that girl and get her out of there, no matter what happens, do you understand?"

  Buehl nodded, looking past him at the ladder nervously.

  Vic's eyes met Monster's. "You're probably going to have to bat clean up on this, Big Man." He smiled weakly at the mantipor and said, "It's been an honor."

  He turned to grab the ladder, and felt Monster's shaggy paw on his shoulder. "Captain," Monster whispered, his voice failing.

  Vic patted him gently on the arm, then reached up for the next rung and began to climb.

  The loft was twenty feet off the ground, just a thick piece of plywood dropped across the barn's rafters. As he crested the ladder, he could see the outline of two figures standing at the far end, their bodies silhouetted by an open window behind them. Stars twinkled in the night sky, high over the tops of tall pine trees swaying gently in the breeze. Vic heard the hammer of Yultorot's pistol cock back as he pulled himself up onto the loft. "That's close enough, Captain," Yultorot said.

  Vic held his hands in the air, saying, "I have no weapons. I just want to help." He heard the wooden ladder squeaking as Bob Buehl began to climb, and he raised his voice to cover the sound, "Listen, on second thought, do we really need the little girl? Maybe we should send her out of here, and I can help you escape."

  Yultorot pressed the barrel of the gun to the side of Maria's head, driving it against her skull until her eyes clenched shut and she squealed. "You're killing her with every step you take. Say what you came to say, or she dies."

  Vic stopped, using his body to block Yultorot's view of the ladder behind him. "There are things I've realized in the past few months. About myself. About everything I thought was true. Now I know that you are too important to die. The Sapienists need you."

  Yultorot turned the gun on him, waving it through the air wildly as he spoke, "What do you know of the Sapienists? Every word you speak is a lie! No one who has true faith in God fears death. I welcome it! I embrace it! I will stand before my Lord and he will know my name. Angels will sing it from here to all eternity!"

  "I see," Vic said, nodding that he understood. He lowered his hands and stood very still. Crickets were chirping in the fields surrounding the barn. A strong breeze rolled in through the open window, carrying the scent of flowers with it. It brushed aside leaves and clumps of dust scattered across the loft's floor, sweeping them past Vic's boots. Yultorot was still ranting about God and the angels, but Vic no longer heard him.

  He was twenty feet away.

  He could see Maria staring at him, her lips trembling with terror, eyes swollen from crying. Terrified, but alive. He'd seen so many things in his years. So many awful things, deposited on him like cinder blocks, burying him deeper and deeper under their weight until it was impossible to move. But now, at the end, he was going to see something different. This little girl was going to live.

  He closed his eyes momentarily and inhaled, drawing in the sweet scent of the flowers and the evening air. It smelled like lilacs and pine. Maybe even honeysuckles.

  Frank was right, he thought. It was good.

  Vic's feet pounded against the loft with booming steps before the other man could react in time. His head bent forward, arms pumping furiously, Vic barreled toward the gun, closing the distance as quickly as he could, racing for the child. She screamed as her captor shoved her aside and trained the weapon on Vic's heaving torso. Flame erupted from the mouth of the gun's barrel, lighting up the barn's interior, revealing Vic's face as he snarled and leapt for the gun, grabbing it with both hands.

  Yultorot fired again, a point blank blast into Vic's stomach, doubling the man over and sending him to his knees. Vic's hands shook as he held the gun firm and he shouted out, "Bob,
get the girl!"

  Bob Buehl raced across the loft, his powerful legs making short work of the distance. Yultorot screamed in outrage as tried to wrench the gun away to fire, desperate to kill all of them, but Vic would not let go. Yultorot kicked Vic savagely trying to get free, but it was impossible. He fired two more times, trying to shoot the gun out of Vic's hands, and felt it finally come loose.

  He spun with the gun just in time to see Bob Buehl scoop the girl up into his arms and keep running. Buehl pressed her tight to his chest and dove through the upper window head first, sailing into the darkness below.

  Yultorot threw his head back and screamed in frustration. He turned and grabbed a tight handful of Vic's hair, raising his blood-streaked face to meet his own. "Do you remember what you told me, Captain? That night they arrested you?"

  Vic's eyes narrowed on the gun as Yultorot laid the barrel against his forehead.

  "You told me you would remind me of this conversation, right before you choked the very life out of me. Do you remember?"

  Vic struggled to speak, feeling blood spill between his teeth when he opened his mouth. "I…I remember."

  Yultorot cocked the hammer back on his pistol and said, "Do you see the power of my God, now? Do you see how he has given me victory over my persecutors? Do you see how his anointed ones rise up over the beasts?"

  Vic's laughter began as a soft, sputtering cough, barely audible. It grew until he needed to clench his hands around his stomach to keep his guts from spilling out through the gunshot wounds.

  "What is so funny?" Yultorot screamed. He twisted the gun against Vic's forehead, "Tell me, what the hell is so funny?"

  Vic's eyes fluttered, unable to keep them open any longer. "I won't have time to tell you a damned thing, you diseased bastard. But…I know someone who will." Vic's hands dropped to the floor as he wobbled sideways. "You're in and you're up, Big Man," he said. "I...I need to lay down for a minute."

  Yultorot watched Vic's hands slide out from underneath him and his face slammed the floor. Blood streamed out from beneath him like red rivers. Disgusted, Yultorot raised his foot in the air high over Vic's head, about to crush his skull with one good stomp, when he stopped. He turned and looked at the far end of the loft, realizing he was not alone.

  Bright green eyes gleamed in the darkness, staring at him.

  It was massive, its hulking frame nearly standing as tall as the roof. It growled fiercely and leapt forward, shaking the rafters with its weight, its wicked fangs gleaming in the darkness as it stretched its mouth wide.

  Yultorot fired his weapon blindly, shooting as quickly as he could, pulling the trigger again and again, until the gun clicked empty.

  Monster rose up before Yultorot, dwarfing him. Blood saturated his fur, a half-dozen gaping mouths from the stinging bullets that had struck him. He did not care. He seized Yultorot by the throat and raised him off the ground, feeling the bones of the human's puny neck, so easy to snap.

  "Do it, you filth," Yultorot gasped. He clutched Monster's wrists with both hands, unable to get them to budge. "To be killed in battle by one of your kind will give me more treasures in heaven than you can possibly dream. Do it! Show the world what a beast you truly are."

  Monster looked down at Vic's body and felt as if someone had smashed him in the chest with a sledgehammer. He wobbled slightly, feeling suddenly light headed from his injuries, and his grip on the human's neck almost gave out. Yultorot struggled and tried to free himself, but his flurry of movement only stirred Monster and made him tighten his grip once more.

  "I am not going to kill you," Monster finally said.

  "Coward," Yultorot sputtered, his fingers digging into the mantipor's paws.

  Monster reached up with his free hand and wrapped his paw around Yultorot's wrist, and twisted sharply. Yultorot's eyed widened as his elbow snapped, leaving his arm nothing but a useless, flapping thing.

  Monster grabbed his other arm and yanked it hard, listening to the tendons in the shoulder snap and the knob of bone break to pieces. Yultorot shrieked as his arm drooped down, hanging only by the skin. "You will never harm anyone again," Monster said.

  He picked Yultorot up in his arms and cradled him, holding him too tightly to move. Monster began to bend the man in two, using the mass of his chest to pin Yultorot in place as he squeezed.

  "No!" Yultorot gasped. He cursed and he pleaded and he begged to his God for relief, but none of it stopped the bones in his spine from snapping.

  Monster squeezed until he felt Yultorot's body go limp and the hateful words the man spouted became nothing more than drooling gibberish. He dropped the crippled Sapienist on the loft's floor and bent over him, staring down at his face, and said, "That was for Gertie."

  Monster laughed as he staggered back, but coughed abruptly and had to spit to clear his mouth. He wiped his face and realized his hand was covered in his own blood. He stopped and looked down, seeing the smears of red splashed across the fur of his chest, and felt his knees buckle. The wind rushed through his fur as he fell backwards.

  He did not want to look.

  He'd heard the massive crash on the loft and it stopped him cold. He listened from the barn's front door, but could hear nothing else. His hands trembled as he climbed the ladder's rungs, feeling like he might lose his grip and float away at any moment. He paused at the top, closing his eyes, knowing that he would never forget what he was about to see.

  He steeled himself and climbed up onto the loft and cried out. Monster was sprawled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with open eyes. Vic was face down, lying in a pool of his own blood. Behind them, curled into a gruesome knot, was Yultorot. Frank moved forward numbly, unable to feel his legs.

  A tiny hissing sound startled him out of his stupor, a sound of life that filled him with hope, until he realized it was coming from Yultorot. "K…k…k…mm..mmm…" Yultorot whispered.

  Frank moved around Monster's massive form, looking down at Yultorot's twisted frame. It was all the man could do to get his lips to move as he repeated, "K….k….k..mmm..mmme."

  "No," Frank said.

  "K…k…kill..kill….meee."

  "No. That's not what I do. No matter how much I want to. I don't take lives." He looked at Vic and Monster, not moving, and said to himself, "I save them." He nodded to himself and said, "I save them, god damn it." He unstrapped his medical bag and carried it over to Vic, dropping down beside him. "This fight isn't over, you son of a bitch. It's not over. I'm here, and I can do this. You hear me? I can do this."

  Frank spread the medical kit on the floor and immediately began selecting which tools he was going to need. He mentally indexed the steps he needed to take first, telling himself he needed to stop the bleeding, then shock both Monster and Vic back to life. As long as he moved fast enough, they'd survive. As long as he was able to extract the projectiles and seal the wounds. As long as nothing went wrong. As long as he had steady hands.

  Easy.

  He reached for the instruments he needed, grabbing for the pliers and scalpels and sutures and surgical laser, and stopped. He lifted his hands in to moonlight pouring through the window and saw his fingers were shaking, and he could not stop them.

  VI. AUTOMATIC FOR THE PEOPLE

  31. COPPERHEAD ROAD

  The bright blue atmosphere of the planet was obscured by tiny dots. They littered its pristine atmosphere like flies buzzing around ripe fruit. Lasers arced through the darkness, filling the transport's windows with bright flashes of green light. Several dots exploded on impact, one after another, the lasers disintegrating them completely.

  Unification Infantryman Chad Warner grinned at this colorful display of power. If the reports they'd heard about Pentak 1 were correct, the people inhabiting it would have no technology to defend themselves with. They lived like simpletons, without any electronic or computer systems at all. He'd heard they even farmed their fields by hand. Laughable.

  They're just zealots, really, Warner thought. So terrified
of the outside world, they'd filled their skies with dampeners to prevent any ships from landing.

  Well, now the outside world is coming and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

  It was not their fault. The religious psychopath, Yultorot, had visited their planet, desperate to spread the word of his Human God. He'd been followed by a group who were even more dangerous psychopaths. That was the last anyone had heard of Captain Victor Cojo and his team of traitors. For all Unification knew, they'd all killed each other, and Warner was fine with that.

  The Infantry would collect the traitor's bodies and the terrorist's body, and ignore the terrified looks from the simpleton settlers coming out of their mud huts, or whatever they lived in. He would find himself back at base by evening the next day.

  Cojo, he thought, shaking his head. He'd met the arrogant bastard once. The Grendel's ship had gotten shot up and they landed at a base he was stationed at for repairs. Warner was working guard duty at the time, and snapped a fine, crisp salute at the Captain as he walked past. He'd always been fascinated by the special forces. The elite, covert teams carrying out missions under the cover of darkness. None of the Grendels even wore uniforms. Captain Cojo's black leather jacket was covered in dust and ripped along the seams. He held his salute as the men walked past, including the enormous, shaggy beast with rippling muscles beneath his long brown fur, but none of them returned it. Cojo shook his head and said, "You don't have to salute me, soldier. I'm not in uniform."

  "I salute the rank, sir," he'd responded proudly. "And what you've done."

  Cojo smiled at that, and said, "At ease, then. Will you keep an eye on the Samsara for me?"

  "I will, sir," Warner said, smiling stupidly in return. He grimaced at the memory of it, squirming with discomfort at how he'd fawned over the man. It had not surprised him one bit when he'd heard Cojo was arrested and sent to Gratersfield Prison. Of course he was dirty. No one could have done all the things Cojo was reported to have done, and not been dirty. Half of it was probably made up, nothing more than propaganda to keep honest, hard working soldiers like him in line.