“You want us to climb the mountainside?” the administrator complained. “Hell, we can’t even see.”
“We can help with that,” Chavez said. “Platoon! Light it up!”
On their shoulders and the crowns of their battle helmets, bright lights were switched on, bathing the area around them in harsh, white light.
“Follow those Specialists, Orlovskey,” Dean said. “You don’t want to stay here.”
“Can’t go very fast,” he warned.
“We’ll hold the crawlers back as long as possible, but there’s enough of them to wipe us out if we aren’t careful. So move your people as quickly as possible.”
Dean watched as nearly one hundred civilians began struggling up the steep side of the mountain. His stomach dropped as he realized he would probably have to sacrifice some of the outpost workers or some of his own platoon if he couldn’t stop the crawlers. It was a decision he feared, and one he never wanted to make. It was every officer’s worst nightmare, a no-win situation. Still, he refused to give up. The crawlers weren’t on top of them yet, and if there was time, there had to be options. It was his job to find them, and he was determined to do just that.
Chapter 24
The group was on their way up the mountain when the first crawlers appeared. Dean was thankful they had some elevation, although he guessed it would take the outpost workers another hour to reach the shelf in the mountainside that Ghost had found for them.
“Harper, what’s left on your AAV?” Dean asked.
“I’m empty, sir,” she replied. “And the first drone’s battery is nearly depleted. The thin atmo is hard on their engines.”
“Roger that,” Dean said. “Loggins?”
“I’ve got one full load,” the FAS private replied.
“Alright, here’s what I want,” Dean said. “We lay down a steady fire with our EMR rifles. I want the Heavy Armor troops to stay with the outpost workers. If we get overrun, you’ll be their last line of defense. On my signal, Loggins will drop his warheads in a parallel line just below my position. Everyone else should be higher than me. Tallgrass, you stay with the HA to resupply them if the time comes. I want everyone to keep moving up the mountain. Make every shot count.”
Everyone confirmed Dean’s orders, but he could tell that they didn’t like it. Chavez was right beside Dean and refused to move further away. Harper and Loggins were helping one another up the steep sides of the mountain while keeping an eye on their AAV feeds. The drones were on autopilot, but the Fast Attack Specialists were still responsible for reporting anything they could see.
Tallgrass and Landin were at the rear of the refugee group, helping when they could but also ready to join the fight if needed. The Heavy Armor Specialists were higher up the mountainside, the lights on their armor showing the refugees the way to safety. Dean was amazed at how well the big men were making the climb despite their heavy armor.
When Dean reached a boulder that was protruding from the mountainside, he stopped and rested his body weight against the rough, moss-covered stone.
“Staff Sergeant, get moving,” Dean ordered.
“Not without you, sir,” Chavez replied, joining Dean on the rock.
“That’s an order, Staff Sergeant. The platoon can’t risk losing us both.”
“Then you push on, sir. Let me stay here and hold the bastards off.”
“That’s exactly why you can’t stay,” Dean said, taking aim at one of the distant crawlers, who were just beginning to make their way over the carcasses of their fallen comrades.
He fired and his aim was true, but the planet’s gravity pulled the shot down slightly. It hit just below the crawler and ricocheted up into the creature’s body. The crawler shuttered, then dropped forward, sliding down the dead crawler it had been scrambling over.
“You would stay here and fight until you were killed,” Dean argued.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Chavez said.
“Hell no, I’m going to order in the AAV strike and hope it destabilizes the mountainside enough to keep the crawlers from following us. Trust me. I’ll see the strike through and then I’m hauling ass to catch up with you.”
“Okay then, you’ll do better with my help,” Chavez said, firing at another crawler down on the killing ground.
“We don’t have time to argue, Staff Sergeant.”
“Sir, respectfully, I won’t leave your side in a combat zone.”
“Fine, have it your way. But if we both get killed, who’s going to lead the platoon?”
“That’s why I’m staying, sir. Ain’t gonna let nothing kill you.”
He fired again. The EMR rifle popped, its report anemic compared to the weapon’s killing power. Above them more shots rang out as dozens of crawlers suddenly appeared down on the trailhead. Dean didn’t have time to argue any longer. He and Chavez were shooting as fast as they could target the crawlers.
Dean had been afraid before; the terror of battle was like a dull roar in the back of his mind, but adrenaline held his fear at bay. He was just too busy to let his emotions rule his mind. He kept firing his rifle, but also checking the vid feed from the MSV circling above them. It had a red flashing icon that indicated the drone was nearly out of power. He needed to order Harper to move her second AAV from the avalanche to the mountain, but it was almost time to order Loggins to drop his payload on the advancing horde. There were too many of the crawlers to hold back with rifle fire. He was just about to give FAS Private Loggins the order to drop their last remaining warheads when multiple blasts sounded below them.
Smoke, rock, and dust billowed out of the cavern, and Dean realized that Tallgrass had detonated the charges she and Landin had set inside the entrance to the cave. The ground beneath their feet began to rumble.
“Captain!” Chavez shouted.
“Move, move, move!” Dean shouted back.
They both activated the electromagnets in their body armor, snapping their rifles into place across their chests, while they climbed as quickly as possible, using their hands as well as their feet. Dean felt the ground shifting below them, then another roar sounded—like the bellow of an insane beast—and a massive cloud of dust engulfed them.
For several minutes, nothing in the world mattered to Dean except moving higher up the mountain. He could hear the panting of the other specialists in his platoon over the comlink. They were all moving upward as rapidly as possible and silently praying that the mountain didn’t crumble beneath their feet.
Without warning, a gust of wind washed over the Recon platoon, as if the breath of God himself was blowing down on Dean. The dust billowed away, and when Dean looked to his right, Chavez was still beside him. The big staff sergeant turned and looked back. Dean, his hand tangled in a wiry bush, did the same. Below them the mountain sloped down at a steep, but not severe angle—until forty feet above what was once the cavern entrance, where it dropped into a vertical cliff. Below that drop was a jumble of rock, dirt, and the broken bodies of dozens of crawlers.
Dean switched his view from night vision to infrared and saw more crawlers arriving, but they looked confused, wandering around and bumping into one another. He knew it was too much to hope that the merciless creatures would simply go away. Soon they would regroup and renew their attack on his platoon, but for the moment, Dean’s people had a chance to gain ground.
“Good work, Tallgrass,” Dean said. “Although a little notice next time would be nice.”
“It was a revelation, Captain. My apologies,” Tallgrass said.
“Damn, sir,” Chavez spoke up as they resumed their climb, but at a slower rate. “She don’t usually apologize. I call that a win for the home team.”
“I heard that, Staff Sergeant,” Tallgrass said.
“I’m just saying,” Chavez continued.
“Harper,” Dean ordered. “Bring your second AAV to our position and hold it overhead.”
“Yes, sir, we just lost the first one.”
“We’v
e got three more hours until dawn,” Dean said. “Let’s get those workers up the mountain and settled. I doubt the crawlers will give up.”
Dean pulled out two flares and handed them to Chavez.
“What’s this for?” the Staff Sergeant asked.
“Light them and throw them,” Dean instructed. “I want four right along this parallel as markers for Loggins when he makes his bombing run.”
“Yes, sir,” Chavez said, popping the first flare and throwing it as far as he could. “You think the mountain can take much more?”
“I hope so,” Dean said. “We’re all out of options. Even if we get to the clearing Ghost has found, I doubt we can hold these creatures off the rest of the night without some heavy ordinance.”
“We’re getting scary low on ammo too,” Chavez said.
Once they had all four flares positioned, they resumed their climb. Dean was amazed that the wounded were able to make it, but they had one another to lean on. He was certain the strongest were helping, but it was still a difficult climb. When Dean was satisfied that he and Chavez were far enough from the blast zone, he stopped.
“Let’s reconnoiter here,” he ordered.
“Gladly,” Chavez said, slumping to the ground and looking back down the mountain.
Dean brought up the vid feed from the AAV above them. He could see the crawlers moving in a more frantic fashion than before. They looked agitated.
“Like ants that have lost the trail,” Chavez said.
“I think they’re trying to find a way up,” Dean guessed.
It took the crawlers nearly twenty minutes to resume their advance. There was nothing orderly or disciplined about the strange, crab-like creatures, but unlike their earlier attacks, they came en masse when they finally resumed their pursuit. They couldn’t climb up the sheer cliff face, but they were able to skirt around the blasted section.
“Coming up both sides,” Chavez said.
“They’re determined, I’ll give them that,” Dean said.
Both men raised their rifles and began firing at the crawlers. The creatures that were hit slid backward, slowing the crawlers behind them. The high ground was finally working to the Recon platoon’s advantage. Dean and Chavez continued to fire as the two separate groups of crawlers converged above the ruined cavern. They moved slower than before—much slower than Dean knew the creatures were capable of. He guessed they were being cautious not to slip on the steep hillside, but he couldn’t help but worry that their new behavior was an indication of a threat he was missing.
“You calling in the fire, Jefe?” Chavez asked.
“Not yet,” Dean replied. “I want them to feel it when we drop our last bombs on their head.”
Dean fired the last bullet in his magazine, popped it out of the handle of his rifle and reached for another one, only there were no more. He was out of ammunition and Tallgrass was high above him, much too far away to help.
“I’m out,” Dean said.
“On my last mag,” Chavez said.
“Save it,” Dean said. “Loggins, you are go for your bombing run.”
“Just like Beggar’s Canyon back home!” the FAS private shouted, quoting a classic movie from the twentieth century.
The drone buzzed down just as the first few crawlers were passing the flares Dean and Chavez had set. They didn’t have time to watch the bombing. Dean and Chavez were rushing up the mountainside again when the first warhead exploded behind them. It was loud and bright; fire roared into the air, and the ground shook. The rest of the bombs dropped in rapid fashion. Dean switched his TCU to low light and was able to see the terrain around him fairly well from the light of the fires left by the warheads.
Dean activated the vid feed from Emily Harper’s AAV circling overhead. Most of the crawlers were sliding down on a wave of dirt and debris. Dean felt like cheering, but a few of the creatures had gotten ahead of the blast. He had no time to count—all he could do was climb.
“Be careful, Captain,” Loggins said. “You’ve got five or six crawlers coming up fast.”
“That’s great,” Dean said. “We’re out of ammunition.”
Chavez screamed in rage as he dropped onto his back, raising his rifle to take aim. Dean stopped and turned. The big staff sergeant fired three shots, killing two of the five crawlers. The third shot—the last one in his EMR rifle—buried itself into the ground instead of popping back up into the approaching creature.
“Chavez!” Dean screamed. “Get out of there!”
“Keep climbing, Captain!” the staff sergeant shouted back.
He drew his thick-bladed kukri with his right hand and a smaller, curved karambit with his left.
“Staff Sergeant, get your big butt down,” Ghost’s voice crackled through Dean’s TCU.
Chavez dropped onto his back without hesitation, and at almost the same moment Dean heard the supersonic crack of a .50 caliber bullet flashing past him. The lead crawler was killed instantly, its shell crashing backward into the last two creatures racing to catch Dean and Chavez. It knocked them both backward a few paces, then flipped over their shells and barrel-rolled down the mountain. Two more shots quickly followed, and the immediate threat was past. Dean grabbed Chavez’s hand.
“Move your ass, Staff Sergeant!” he ordered as they scrambled up the mountainside.
Chapter 25
The outpost workers were huddled together at the back of the shelf on the side of the mountain, which was a long, narrow section where a ridge line met the mountain proper. It wasn’t completely flat, but it was close enough. The workers were all in thick, insulated coveralls with breathing masks and cold weather headgear, but the long night on Lars was dangerously cold, especially several hundred feet up the mountain. Dean and the rest of the platoon had gathered as many of the scrubby bushes as they could and lit two fires, but it was a meager response to the problem. Some of the wounded were already showing symptoms of hypothermia.
Down the mountainside, the crawlers were waiting. Dean didn’t know if it was a tactic or simply resignation by the strange creatures, but they huddled at the base of the mountain, not moving. He feared it was a trick—perhaps the creatures were trying to flank them again?—but the AAVs above them had not spotted any movement. It was also possible that they were smart enough to simply let time kill their enemy. Dean didn’t think there was any way down the mountain that wouldn’t lead them right into the horde of crawlers. And they couldn’t climb further up without proper gear—not that the wounded outpost workers could climb at all.
“Maybe they just don’t want to get caught on the mountainside when the sun comes up,” Tallgrass said. “They are much more vulnerable when their shells are not on flat ground.”
“Good point,” Chavez said.
“Or maybe they’ve lost their taste for fighting us,” Ghost said.
“I don’t buy that,” Adkins replied. “I wish it were true, but they didn’t seem to mind how many we killed, as long as there was a chance they could get their pincers on us.”
“They’re land-based creatures,” Tallgrass went on. “It’s possible they can sense instability in the mountain.”
“That’s a cheery thought,” Landin said.
“We’re almost out of ammo,” Dean said. “Everyone’s exhausted. There’s nowhere left to run. I don’t care why they aren’t attacking. I’m just glad they aren’t.”
“Me too,” Harper said.
“Another hour till daylight,” Orlovskey said as he ambled over to Dean’s platoon. “You think we’ll make it?”
“I’m hopeful,” Dean said.
“Been a hell of a night,” the administrator admitted.
“Too long,” Carter agreed.
“You’re people making it alright?” Dean asked.
“A few are suffering from early stage hypothermia, but I don’t think we’ll lose anyone.”
Dean felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed closely by a sense of extreme fatigue. He wanted nothing more than
to lie down and close his eyes, but the night wasn’t over and he wouldn’t rest until every refugee was off-planet and his entire platoon was safe.
“Staff Sergeant,” Dean said. “I want a report on our ammunition. Make sure everyone is locked and loaded. I don’t want us caught with our pants down.”
“Roger that,” Chavez said. “I’ll send you a magazine ASAP.”
“Thank you,” Dean replied.
“You think they’ll attack again?” Nathan Orlovskey asked Dean.
“It doesn’t matter what I think they’ll do,” Dean said. “We have to be ready for what they can do.”
“If they attack now, by the time they get up here it’ll be almost dawn. They don’t come out in the daytime.”
“Yes, we learned that much the night before.”
“Well, I have to say your bunch is as good as promised. You blew the hell out of those bastards. I didn’t think we’d make it through the night. I’m glad I was wrong.”
“Me too,” Dean admitted.
“Wolfpack, this is Command. Do you read, over?”
Dean switched to the command-only channel on his comlink as the outpost administrator went back to his group of refugees. It was a happy moment for Dean. He knew the only way the Hannibal was signaling him on a world with no satellites or communication infrastructure was if the shuttle was back in atmo, which meant it was on its way down to their position.
“Loud and clear, Command. It’s good to hear from you, over.”
“I suspect so,” Anders said. “Those animals did a number on the shuttle. It took Sergeant Fennes nearly six hours to make the repairs. What’s your status, over?”
“We’ve had heavy fighting all night,” Dean said. “The crawlers came in numbers I can only estimate to be in the thousands. We managed to hold them off, but we’re running low on ammunition and some of the refugees are suffering from hypothermia, over.”
“The shuttle is coming your way. ETA twelve minutes. I loaded two cases of ammunition into the shuttle. Get as many of the refugees on board as possible. We’ll have to make a few trips, but we’ll get them evacuated and then get your platoon back on board the Hannibal. You turned a disaster into a win, Captain. Good work. I’m looking forward to reviewing your detailed report. Command out.”
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