I fire the pistol again and again. Some of them don’t seem to be driven by intelligence. It’s as if the hunger permeates to a cellular level, and the things can’t stop moving toward their prey until they’re completely incapacitated, charred into useless lumps of stinking flesh. And at last, we drop them all. To live through this and not lose my mind in the horror, I have to focus on our goal: clearing this place out and saving the humans who call Dobrinya home.
One of the youngest among us, Drake, staggers to the far end of the corridor and hunches over. My stomach lurches in sympathy when I hear him puking. I give him a minute, then walk over to touch his shoulder. He’s leaned his head against the wall, trembling from head to toe. Like Doc, he’s not born to fight, but the team needs a medic.
“You all right?”
He glances back at me like it’s a stupid question. “Not even close.”
“Use the chem-burner,” I tell him. “It’ll help with the gore.”
Straightening his shoulders, he seems pleased to have a task, which is why I assigned it to him. I’m not surprised by his reaction, but it alarms me a little to see the other squad members totally unmoved by the carnage. It gives me too clear a picture of what they went through in those tunnels on Lachion, and it breaks my heart that this is not the worst thing these men have ever seen.
“Facility is now half-cleared,” Torrance reports.
March nods. “Then we need to push onward and find another defensible location. They aren’t coming this way again. We also have to expect them to adapt to our tactics and ordnance. The Morgut aren’t stupid.”
“Yes,” I agree quietly. “It gets worse from here.”
CHAPTER 40
Torrance breaks the silence. “I’m tracking heat signatures, Commander.”
We’ve been moving toward the storage areas for a while with no sign of further Morgut, but I know they’re here. We’re not done yet. It’s a crawling of my flesh, prickling in my skin, just like when I was a kid and nobody would believe there were monsters in my room. There weren’t, of course. I have a vivid imagination.
But I’m not a child anymore, and there really are monsters here.
“Where are they?” March demands.
I understand his impatience; it’s about time they showed up on our instruments. I was starting to think they had their own version of Thermud—a dark paste that offers visual and heat signature camouflage—and wouldn’t that be a terrifying prospect?
“Outside the pressure door that leads to the storage area.”
“They’re trying to rest up and feed before facing us,” Dina realizes aloud.
That means they’re not going to turn and fight, as we thought. They came to eat, and they intend to. If they succeed, we will have landed for nothing. We will have lost a good soldier for nothing. I shake my head, jaw locked.
“Double-time,” March orders. “Quiet is no longer our concern.”
Our boots thud in cadence as we tear through the halls: left, right, and a long straightaway. Only two more turns until we’ll be there. A distant boom scares the shit out of me, as Torrance is running alongside me.
The comm crackles; the mine manager’s voice is tight with terror. “They’ve blown the upper doors, only one more to go. They’ll be on us soon.”
This is the first time we’ve heard from him since we landed, and I admire his fortitude. I know what it’s like to huddle in the dark, wondering if your next breath will be your last. But not this time. Not these people. This time, we save them. This time, we make a difference. I never thought I’d say this, but—
I wanna be a hero, dammit. No matter the cost.
“Don’t panic,” March tells him. “We’re almost there.”
The floor slopes beneath our feet. That means we’re close, thank Mary. As we pound down the ramp toward the blown access doors, web traps explode all around us. They’re not the same as the ones we faced on Emry; they don’t draw us up and away from the group, but most of us are immobilized. I can’t get my fingers on a blade to cut my way out, and the more I struggle, the tighter this stuff gets.
I call out, “Don’t fight it! I think it might strangle you.”
You’d think we’d have learned this by now; we simply can’t plan for the Morgut because we don’t think like they do. Our attempts to predict their behaviors will always, always fail because we’re operating without insight, without context. We don’t know enough of them to be considered their enemies. We’re only victims. Or we have been. If Vel were here, I’m sure he’d know a way out of this, but . . . he’s not.
“They’re doubling back, sir.” Torrance’s voice sounds muffled.
“A ruse,” March bites out. “And I fell for it. They guessed threatening our civilians would flush us out.”
“And now the dangerous food isn’t so risky,” Dina mutters.
“Can anyone get free?”
“I am, Commander.” Drake steps forward, tearing the last of the webs from his body. “I fell behind. I’m sorry.”
So he’s the one I heard throwing up in the hall. Poor kid—but his weak stomach may save us all.
“Cut us loose!”
“Do me first,” Dina demands. “I have an idea.”
Quickly, he cuts her free and she heads for the blown access doors in a slightly uneven sprint. Dina fiddles with the loose wires, muttering to herself, while Drake slices through the filaments holding March. They redouble their efforts, vibroblades humming. The commander frees Torrance first, probably hoping his speed extends to knives.
I hear the monsters coming. There are a lot more of them this time. Intellectually I already knew that from looking at the heat signatures on Torrance’s display, but it feels different when you can hear their weight drumming against the floor. Noise echoes down the hall toward us, eerie in its cacophony, but by the rise and fall of it, the chip in my head interprets the significance, even if it can’t offer meaning.
They’re singing.
It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard.
My heart pounds while I wait, captive. To his credit, March slices three random soldiers free before coming for me. He’s controlling his personal feelings. Good for him. It doesn’t slow the panic careening through me.
“How many are there?” I ask Torrance, as he frees the last squad member.
“Thirty,” he answers quietly. “Maybe more. They just keep coming.”
Shit. Bad odds. Really bad.
I see them now, but the sloping corridor is too short to use regular grenades. The blast would catch all of us, and there’s no differentiating our meat from theirs. I raise my weapon, but Dina stands in my line of fire.
“Clear out of there!” March shouts.
She ignores him. “Almost got it . . .”
Sparks shower down atop her, and she scrambles back as a pale, shimmering field springs to life. My eyes widen. “What did you do?”
She grins and checks her weapon. “Electrified the metal plates by rerouting the wires into the . . . Ah, here they come!”
Their eyes must not be designed like ours because they pay the danger no heed. One by one they push through, screaming and shuddering as electricity jolts through their nervous systems. Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough to take them down; it just scrambles their brains for a few seconds.
We take advantage of the time. We saturate the air with Morfex grenades, trusting it won’t cause us any harm. The Morgut go mad with pain, and it’s hideous to watch. I stand with the gunners, shooting away, while our best hand-to-hand fighters wait for the first monster to make it into range. Morgut fall to our onslaught, but they outnumber us. March wheels into the fight like a berserk dervish; he’s fighting two, but I can’t focus on him.
Fire. A wound blossoms on its chest, a dark stain of burning flesh. The smell doesn’t touch me. I’ve found my center. Beside me, Drake stands firm. His face is sickly pale, beaded with sweat, but he doesn’t falter.
We are squadron one.
Someone is screaming, a distinctly human cry. One of the clansmen staggers, a spiked forelimb through his gut. The monster raises him up and delivers the bite, and he’s done. I can’t grieve. If we survive this, we will pull his name patch from his chest and send it home to his mother on Lachion. There’s a fire in my heart that burns too bright for tears; it could power a whole world if someone harnessed it.
Being careful not to injure with friendly fire, I hold the line. Near the access door, a soldier stumbled into the shock field Dina rigged. He shudders and screams; we are not so robust as the Morgut. She flinches but she doesn’t falter in her own attack. Collateral damage, I can almost hear March say.
He kills two at once in a smooth, outward sweep of his blades. He’s strong enough, skilled enough, to dual wield. It’s almost lovely to watch, if I could ignore the spattering blood and the chunks of meat that spatter in his wake. The others fight with grim competence, staying away from those deadly teeth. Another clansman screams.
After twenty shots, my pistol delivers a mild shock to my palm as warning and goes inert. If I try to override the safety, it may explode. I toss it at the head of a Morgut stalking toward me, then smoothly draw my vibroblade. I’m not the best on the squad by any means, but I’m no longer the girl who fights with more bravado than skill. I plant my feet and wait for it, while my brothers in arms flow in battle all around me.
The noise of it recedes.
As I’ve been taught, I retreat into a circle where there’s only my enemy and me. If another threat emerges, I’ll respond to it, but I can’t afford distractions. It’s focused on me, thinking I’m small and weak. Easy prey.
Think again, monster. Your kind had a taste of me, but you’ll never have the whole.
My blade swoops before me in tight circles, forming a dangerous barrier to attack. If it lashes out—
Oh, you stupid beast.
I lop off its left forelimb, and it keens, the pain echoing from the walls. The Morgut face looks much the same to me, monstrous and fanged, regardless of expression. Smiling, I beckon it forward with a lift of my chin. My back is to the wall; I’m well defended.
Feint. Dance forward, slide left, all while spinning my blade with both hands. It’s a deceptive movement that makes me look as though I’m uncertain, barely able to lift the weapon. Even as it’s dying of a poison it cannot comprehend, the monster lunges, confident it can handle me.
So. Not. True.
In a graceful loop, I take its head.
The battle rushes back at me with the weight of an avalanche. I’m drowning in sound as the body falls, but another rushes to take its place. One, then another. I’m flanked. The others hold their own all around me, but they have no eyes for me. Why should they? I’m not a damsel in distress. After all—
I’m Sirantha Jax, and I have had enough.
CHAPTER 41
The monster on my right lunges, teeth snapping, and I duck low, spinning into a fighting squat. I sweep with my blade and take it at the joints. My weapon slices clean through. It’s down, but not dead. I’ll worry about it after I take out its partner.