by John Conroe
“But we have more running to do.”
She gave me an incredulous look but started jogging as I did. The storm cloud of drones was almost on us and we only got about fifty yards before the first wave hit. Harper was out in front, Rikki in the middle, and I was tail gunner. My drone started firing immediately, his body turned sideways but still flying right behind Harper.
I got my first target at about his fifth or sixth shot. The mag emptied too fast, ten rounds not enough for the mass of deadly bastards. The second to last flash bang jumped into my hand, almost of its own accord. Good idea, primitive brain stem. Explosives are almost always the correct answer. The pin clattered to the ground and I sort of punched the little grenade out an opening in the girders. It went off with a shock and blast that punched my chest. Harper wobbled on her feet but kept running. I pulled and threw my last grenade, reloaded the rifle as the bomb went off, then jumped to the cage of steel girders and pulled myself through. Now I was out of the bridge, hanging off the side. The water so far below was the least of my worries. Harper was still running for the other side of the bridge, not yet aware that I had left. I climbed.
Instantly, three spots on my body—my right calf, left butt cheek, and the back of my neck—felt like I had been stuck with a red-hot branding iron. I ground my teeth and kept climbing, more laser burns searing different parts as some of the drones lit me up. Then I was up top. I dove for the asphalt, rolling behind a car, lifting my gun and shoving the barrel straight up behind me as I did, pulling the trigger as my elbow reached full extension. That’s the key: no hesitation. You just gotta go with instinct and do something, even the wrong thing, just as long as you do it instantly. My gun went off as one of the laser drones came over the roof of the car. The bullet only grazed it but it still fell from the sky.
Then I was up and running. I was just about the middle of the bridge, weaving and dodging around the wrecked vehicles that someone, likely Team Johnson, had shoved to the sides some time ago. Drones hunted me, and there were too many. Suddenly there was one more and it started to shoot the others out of the air. Rikki had abandoned Harper? Then another, bigger drone shot through the air overhead. The Decimator blew through, EM gun blasting a drone while little missiles launched themselves from under its wings.
Rikki killed three drones in two seconds, the Decimator blasted like eight. I got one. I put my head down and sprinted, leaving the shooting to the two killing machines that were on my side. Flechettes tugged at my suit, burning stings all up and down my back, ass, and legs. Ignore them. Keep running. Just over halfway. I could see rows of auto guns swinging up, and a few drones around us suddenly just fizzled out and dropped. Infrared lasers, invisible but line-of-sight deadly. More drones were dying as Zone Defense AI systems targeted them, and Rikki and his new, big pal blasted others.
Weaving in and around the wrecks, my flying protectors swooping around me, fighting off drones, I turned sideways to get between the edge of the bridge and a burnt-out food delivery truck. It was a bad spot, but I had to get past it to get into the safety of the gun arc.
A shadow over the railing caught my eye and I glanced over in time to see a massive black monster pull itself effortlessly over the side, its seventh leg swinging down at my head, the starred and half-broken optical band coming right at my face.
I shoved sideways, unable to get my rifle pointed at the Spider, but I did hit the descending leg with the barrel. The impact did nothing to the steel-clad Lotus, but my rifle got knocked out of my soft human hand. A front leg shot my way, my body jerking away, just enough for the sharp claws to scrape my side and punch a hole in the metal body of the food truck. I pulled my kukri and swung wildly at the broken black eyeband. Lotus jerked itself back and the big knife just clanged into the armored head, hardly scraping the paint. The number seven leg darted at me, so I dropped and rolled under the truck, lancets of pain shooting through me. A different leg probed after me but I kept desperately rolling. The leg banged up into the underside of the truck and then started to lift. The wheels closest to the bridge side and the Spider rose into the air. Flipping to my stomach, I low crawled toward the rear of the truck, back the way I had come. I switched my knife to my left hand and drew the Five-Seven. Flicked the full auto selector.
Another vehicle, a SUV of some kind, was crammed up against the delivery truck. I crawled under it and spotted my rifle, which lay between the SUV’s tires and the railing of the bridge.
Behind me, the truck fell over on its side with a grinding crash. Pointing my pistol at the visible parts of the spider’s legs, I hosed them with the full mag of little armor-piercing rounds. They just sparked off the heavy metal, but the Spider pulled back. I dropped the pistol and got my right hand on the .458 and dragged it to me. Another massive leg slipped under the front of the SUV and then it too started to lift.
I racked the charging handle, rolled to my back, and lifted the muzzle at the same pace that the car was lifted. As soon as I saw black armor, I pulled the trigger twice. Lotus screeched, dropped the SUV, its legs disappearing from my view as I flattened myself to the ground. The big car bounced on its suspension, the metal underside smashing into me hard enough to stun. The bouncing stopped and I rolled to my side, spinning around by pulling with my boots on the ground like I was running in a circle, rotating on my left shoulder. Six massive legs hit the pavement to the left of the SUV, toward the centerline of the road. Metal squealed and tore, the car rocking side to side. Then the seventh leg shot underneath the SUV, a car door in its claw, darting straight for me. Rolling away, I popped right out against the railing, pulled my feet under me, and jumped onto the hood. The SUV door slammed into the railing where I had just been. Lotus stood next to the car, its back even with the hood, two massive bullet gouges running lengthwise from its mouth back. I raised the rifle but whirring metal slammed into my side. Reflexes kicked in, my rifle butt stroking the aerial drone out of the air, my boot crunching it into the hood beneath us before kicking it off.
I brought the rifle back on Lotus but it had the car door out, swinging it like a shield, blocking my shot. The bullets would go right through the door, but they would need every bit of power to defeat the Spider’s armor, and car metal would rob them of some speed and energy.
The monster reared back, a front leg grabbing the broken drone and flinging it at me. I hopped sideways and that car door jumped forward, punching me right off the SUV, right over the rail. I let go of the rifle to grab the railing. The gun fell, then clanged against the outside of the bridge as its carry sling caught on something. Lotus leaped onto the SUV and raised the car door to slam me into jelly.
There was a sharp whine and then a massive clanging sound as a close-range electromag round hit the Spider’s side, the metal slug getting stuck partway through the armor. The Decimator swung around to take another shot but the Spider turned to it and the Decimator froze up, hovering in place.
Rikki was suddenly there, firing rounds at the Spider’s eyeband and leg joints. Lotus scuttled itself around to follow Rikki’s flight, the flailing SUV door missing the Berkut by centimeters. I took the opportunity to get my feet on the bridge structure and push myself up, then get one leg over the railing and drop to the blessed pavement. Rikki continued to fire and dodge, fire and dodge, his rounds pinging off the metal armor but gouging paint near the vulnerable eyeband, empty casings ejecting straight down.
His gun clicked empty. Lotus leaped for him but he swerved away, back from the bridge, over open water. The huge Spider landed on the SUV, its seventh leg throwing the car door at Rikki. He dodged it easily. The leg came down and slammed right through the roof of the car, somehow latching in place. Then Lotus crouched and sprang, its leap much, much further out, a thin line of metallic cable reeling out from the interior of that seventh leg.
Rikki dove and the Spider ceased reeling, the line going taut, slamming the Spider into a pendulum arc. I jumped back to the railing, leaning dangerously far over, my feet hooked into the ga
ps. The rifle strap was just there, just a little further, and I stretched, hooking it with a single finger. Back up, heaving the rifle up into space by its strap, grabbing the gun out of midair, turning and putting the muzzle to the cable. It fired, the metal cable shattering and snapping loose. Jumping up on the railing, I got one leg hooked around a massive bridge cable, then leaned out and down. Lotus was falling after Rikki, but my drone could accelerate and the Spider couldn’t. Plus the anchor to the bridge was gone, Lotus falling straight rather than speeding at the end of an arc. Rikki pulled up and away as my crosshairs lined up. I pulled that trigger as fast as I could, emptying all the remaining rounds into the body of the falling Spider CThree. Holes appeared in armor as the massive black body got smaller and smaller before finally splashing into the water.
Then the sky darkened and I looked up to see a huge form blocking out the light. The giant Quad rotor hovered directly over me, the back ramp opening and familiar forms diving off the edge. Two armored soldiers shot past me, headed for the water, thin lines of their own trailing behind. They splashed into the East River right where Lotus had gone in, disappearing after it.
Metallic thunks sounded around me and I turned in time to see other troopers land, legs barely flexing to absorb the impacts like it was nothing. The closest soldier had boob bumps and the name tag read K. Jossom. A taller figure landed behind her, facing away to guard her back.
“Yo, Gurung, how’s it hanging?” Jossom asked.
“There’s a possibility it got shot off,” I said.
“Oh, that’s gonna disappoint your Viking girlfriend, but then maybe I’ll have a shot at her, “ Jossom said, looking me over. “Medic!”
The Quad was shooting the shit out of all the drones in the area, which, now that the command Spider was gone, were leaving toward Manhattan as fast as they could.
My legs got weak and I suddenly sat down hard. Jossom and her partner Boyle stood guard over me as another trooper, whose nametag said T. Kendall, started to look me over for wounds.
“Shit, son, you’ve got at least ten flechette wounds and seven laser burns,” Kendall said after having me peel off the stealth suit. “Lots more that didn’t make it through the stealth suit, though,” he said, picking a bent piece of shiny metal out of the tough fabric. “What the hell is this? A sewing needle?”
“They scavenge anything they can that fits the bill,” I said, taking a sip of the water he had handed me.
“Good thing for you. This improvised ammo isn’t as efficient as true spec flechettes would have been.”
“Am I gonna live?” I asked, half joking. I certainly felt pretty bad, but I was breathing and the medic didn’t look very concerned.
“Some blood loss, dehydration, and some really deep, painful burns, but all very localized. You’ll do.”
“See that, Boyle? Kid tussles with a freaking Spider and gets away scot-free. Oh, Major’s gonna be pissed at you, shooter boy. You fucked up the Spider he wanted,” Jossom admonished.
“He should have wrestled with it himself,” I said, lying back.
“Nope, no lying down yet. Come on, up ya go,” Kendall said, suddenly hustling me. Boyle turned and gave the medic a cold look.
“What? I don’t want him passing out till he’s on the Quad. Sue me,” Kendall said back. “Chief, get that stretcher down ASAP.” I didn’t know who he was talking to, or who the chief was for a solid ten seconds, till it hit me that he was talking to somebody, likely the crew chief, on the Quad.
“Alright, here we are. Now you can lie down. Feet inside,” he said, holding an injector gun to my neck and pumping something cold that instantly turned warm.
“Where’s my, my rif- rifle?” I asked, tongue going gummy.
“Here ya go, shooter,” Jossom said, tucking my cleared and unloaded rifle alongside me, my bunched-up stealth suit at my feet.
I lay back and looked up at the cloud-free blue sky, thinking it was an absolutely beautiful day. Then I closed my eyes, just to give them a little rest.
Chapter 37
I opened my eyes after just a moment or two and discovered I was in a bed, in a building, with the sun setting out the windows.
“Ah, there he is. Let me get the doc,” a voice said, my mind telling me a second later it was Corporal Jossom. I turned and caught a glimpse of her camouflage battle dress uniform heading out the door. Four seconds later, she was back, holding the door for a female doctor who bustled in, eyes locked on me.
“Mr. Gurung, how are you feeling?”
“Confused, sleepy,” I said, shifting upward, only to lock up as sharp needles of pain hit me from a half dozen spots at once.
“Easy, let the bed do the work,” the doctor said, smiling. “Bed, raise head thirty degrees.”
The mattress lifted under me and even though there were little twinges of sharp pain, it was better than when I tried it.
“You’ve got lots of little holes in you, Ajaya. All the metal and shrapnel is out, but I think I could start a hardware store with the nails, needles, and bits of wire I pulled out of you,” said the doctor, whose name tag read Dr. Christie. She was a petite brunette, pretty, too. I glanced at Jossom, who was giving the doctor’s form a thorough appraisal till she caught my look. She winked and grinned.
“I don’t have to stay here, do I? How long has it been?”
“Ah, you’ve been in here about an hour. Took us forty-five minutes to pluck the iron out of you. How long since he was on the transport, ah, Corporal?”
Jossom snapped out of her appraisal before the doc finished turning to her and came to attention. “It’s been two hours, thirty-three minutes, ma’am.”
“I’m a civilian, Corporal, not military. You don’t have to salute or ma’am me.”
“But can I buy you coffee?” Jossom asked, instantly changing posture to a more relaxed stance.
Doctor Christie looked surprised when she turned back to me, her professional face taking a second to flicker back into place. “You’ll be going home as quick as I check you over. There’s a waiting room of uncleared people waiting to haul you back, if my understanding is correct.”
“That’s true, ma’am. Your mom, sisters, and your Viking are all outside the restricted area. I volunteered to keep watch over you for them,” Jossom said.
“Hah,” I said. “You secretly pine for me, Jossom. Go ahead and admit it.”
“Actually, Shooter, I took one look at that bevy of beauties and fell all over myself to help them out,” Jossom said. “I’m hanging near you, kid. You’re my new wingman. Beautiful women surround you like bees on a rose.”
“Won’t Boyle be hurt?” I asked, glancing at the bemused doctor with a grin.
“Boyle? Boyle’s the worst. Old gloomy Gus drives women away left and right. He’s my bud and all, but for a night on the town, you’re my new bestie. Hell, look at the doctor they gave you. Like a movie star or something.”
Dr. Christie ignored her, busying herself with checking my eyes with a penlight, but I saw a deep blush flow over her skin.
“You’re gonna have to wait a few months, Jossom. I won’t be twenty-one till November,” I said.
“Aw, that’s nothing. I could sleep till November. But hey, that means your Viking will be twenty-one before you, right? I read she’s a little older than you.”
“A month and a half. Hey, where did you read that?”
“You get this guy, Doc? Talk about clueless. Anyway, I’m going to go tell your clan of models that you’re awake and due out soon. That’s true, right, Doc?”
“Yup, his vitals all look fine. I’ll have the duty nurse start his discharge.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back, Shooter,” Jossom said, pushing out the door. “Don’t fly away on me.”
“She’s kind of a bit extra, but she sure seems protective of you,” Dr. Christie said after a glance at the door.
“She’s a really good soldier. Elite. I think she took me under her wing when I helped her and her combat partner.�
�
“From what I’ve seen, you’ve made a habit of helping people lately… at great risk to yourself.”