Warning indicators were going off all over the cockpit. Servomotor fluids in my left elbow joint were low. My right leg joint was damaged. My right eye camera was destroyed.
I slammed the creatures off my body, swiveling about, unleashing a curl of flame. I ignited entire rows of the things.
One of the slugs was bearing down on me.
"Jumpjet mode!"
I activated my jumpjets using the manual controls that appeared on the inside of my palms, and I broke away from the mass of crabs. I reached the apex of my flight, and as I arced downward I positioned myself so that I'd land right on top of the slug.
It decided to phase out just then, and I fell right through it.
I followed the outline of the immaterial creature, beating away the crabs that swarmed-in on me.
The slug started to rematerialize around me. The crabs instinctively fled, but I kept moving, staying within the borders of its flesh, tearing a path through the soft tissue that was appearing. I was a bit worried that the thing's molecules would join with mine or something, but that didn't happen, maybe because I kept moving, never staying in one place.
The thing had fully materialized into this reality now, and I couldn't see a thing. Nonetheless I burrowed further inside, ripping and tearing and mashing. I let off gatling rounds and
incendiary thrower bursts whenever I got stuck. I was starting to get worried, because I couldn't really plot a trajectory in here.
Thankfully I erupted from the thing soon
thereafter, emerging like an exploding, puss-filled boil squeezed too hard. In my wake I left behind one very dead slug, its black guts bulging and steaming from a jagged, gaping hole in its side.
The two hundred crabs connected to it turned over and died.
"Rage," the Chief transmitted on the platoon line. I could barely understand him for all the static. "Where the f—" His voice cut out. "Are you?"
"Coming sir," I said.
I got a bearing on my team. Most of them had clambering over the lip of the excavation. All except Alejandro and Tahoe, who waited for me at the top of the excavation.
Damn it. "Get out of here!" I sent them, though I'm not sure if my words got through.
I made my way towards the pair, zigzagging between hydraulic power shovels and giant dump trucks, trying to do as much damage as I could along the way. The horde proved endless: more slugs had poured from the sinkhole while I was occupied with the disemboweling of the other. There were at least six more of its brethren out there now, along with a thousand crabs.
I was about to activate my mech's jumpjets to get the hell out when I noticed a metallic glint beneath the sun, to my left. That glint saved me.
I fired the "Trench Coat" just as the onboard AI sounded the "homing missile" beacon, and I activated my horizontal evasive thrusters.
My body twisted sideways as seventeen pieces of radar-guided metal fanned out in a peacock pattern to intercept the
four serpent missiles trained on my mech.
E
xplosions off to my right sent Hornet careening to the side at an incredible speed. Cockpit alarms were going off all over the place.
I smashed into the ground.
It was sheer luck that none of the serpents had directly touched my ATLAS. The Trench Coat could usually take out one or two missiles at once, but four? Yes, I was a very lucky man. Quick reflexes helped too, I suppose.
I stood and got my bearings. The outer edge of the crab horde was roughly thirty meters behind me. I was about fifty meters from the top of the excavation. Alejandro and Tahoe were still waiting for me at the lip. They'd both dropped to one knee, though, and were staring into the sites of their 9-mils.
Alejandro's voice came on the comm. "Rade, look—" He cut out. "Dump—."
I followed his aim, swiveling toward the massive dump truck that loomed to my left, twenty meters away, parked at an angle so that its right side faced my mech.
There.
At the base of the truck, I spotted two of the ATLAS 5s from Bravo Platoon. I recognized the black panthers spray-painted onto the chest pieces. The first mech stood near the front right wheel of the dump truck, while the second had taken up a position beside the rear wheel. Likely they'd been hiding there, behind the wheels, in ambush.
I zoomed in on each one. I couldn't see the blue glow that would have signified Phant possession.
But those serpents had to have launched from somewhere.
In fact, the mechs launched two more as I watched them.
I dropped, and reactivated the Trench Coat.
I had time to launch it twice.
The
thirty-four metal pieces had ample opportunity to take out those rockets, and the blasts didn't affect me.
The rocket launchers on the enemy mechs swiveled aside, replaced by gatling guns.
The things were learning.
I was a big target, even lying down, but there was a hydraulic power shovel not far from here, which I could use for cover.
I stood up.
The Bravo Platoon ATLAS 5s opened fire.
I dove to the right and the bullets followed me. I activated the ballistic shield on my left arm, replacing the
incendiary thrower. Just in time, too—those bullets carved deep pock marks in the surface but the shield held, protecting me. For now. Those pocks were becoming deeper though, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the bullets pierced and struck the hull of my mech.
I didn't want to activate my jumpjets again and expose myself, not when there were so many places for cover here in the excavation site. I raced away from the outer rank of alien crabs that were closing on me, and barreled behind the hydraulic power shovel I had in mind.
I took a moment to compose myself.
Okay. I'd have to use some strategy to win this.
Taking down multiple ATLAS 5s was nothing new to me.
I'd practiced scenarios like this almost every day in the simulator. One against two, and sometimes one against three. True, that was the simulator, and this was real life. I didn't see how it was all that different.
Except for the fact that I could actually die.
Not to mention the horde of
hungry aliens that bore down on my position from behind...
"Override friendly-fire protection," I said. Just in case my mech wouldn't let me fire at the Bravo Platoon ATLAS 5s.
"Friendly-fire protection disabled," Hornet answered.
I leaned out from cover and launched two serpents, aiming one at each ATLAS.
As expected, the mechs simply stepped behind the wheels of the dump truck and took cover.
They were no longer targeting me.
Now
I could use Hornet's jumpjets.
I stepped out from
the power shovel and activated the jetpack as my rockets exploded against the giant tires. The blast didn't even give the dump truck a flat. Powerful tires.
I landed on the hood of the dump truck, and jumped again, thrusting over the cab toward the dump body. I activated the rear vertical jets in bursts, wanting to maintain my altitude with the least fuel burn, and when I was halfway across the body I ceased all thrust. I plummeted in a reverse-parabola across the dump body, clearing the tailgate with about two meters to spare.
I fired off lateral thrusters, aiming my mech for the ground beside the rearmost, left side tire. I pulsed the forward lats, spinning Hornet in midair so that I landed facing the dump truck.
Both targets were in my line of fire, crouching behind the tires on the opposite side of the dump truck. Both targets fac
ed away from me.
I loosed my full complement of serpents, dividing them between the two targets. As my rockets sped away beneath the undercarriage, I stepped behind the tire for cover, in case the Bravo mechs managed to return fire.
I heard the explosions, waited a moment, then peered out.
The closest mech lay crumpled not far from the tire opposite mine.
I couldn't see the other mech.
I swiveled my ballistic shield back into place on my left hand, and since I was out of rockets, I rotated the gatling gun into my right hand. Had about 1,500 rounds left.
I fired at the crumpled mech, aiming for the section that housed the brain case, and the body shook beneath my onslaught.
Blue mist started rising from the mech.
I heard a clang from above—
The other Bravo mech had climbed onto the dump body, and was aiming down at me from the tailgate.
I swiftly dove beneath the giant dump truck's undercarriage, avoiding the onslaught of gatling bullets.
The Phant from the fallen mech was floating toward me. I fired at it, dispersing it, but the constituent vapors continued to close.
I sprinted along beneath the undercarriage, looking to take cover behind one of the front tires.
But that route became unavailable as the first wave of crabs reached the dump truck, swarming the front section.
I spun around in time to block the gunfire from the Bravo mech. I crouched behind my ballistic shield, and returned fire, forcing the thing to take cover behind the rearmost tire. Either it didn't know how to use its own shield, or didn't want to.
"Rade," Alejandro transmitted. All I heard after that was static.
"Hey Alejandro," I said. "Kinda busy now."
More gatling gunfire came in. I ducked behind my shield.
The metal was going to give out on me momentarily—already there were gaps where the shield had been shot clean away. I returned fire, but I was down to 400 rounds now. At 6,000 rounds per minute, that would last me for maybe six or seven more half-second bursts.
Meanwhile, the Phant from the other mech continued to approach, and behind me, the first wave of alien crabs had almost reached my position, their clattering mandibles echoing from the undercarriage.
So much for this not being a last stand.
The possessed ATLAS kept firing. Sometimes those bullets streamed right past, chewing into the crabs behind me.
Good.
Come on, run out of bullets. Come on!
Keeping my shield firmly in place, I fired a burst from my gatling into the churning ranks behind me, cutting away a swath of the closest crabs, buying time.
More holes appeared in my ballistic shield, forcing me to duck lower.
The Phant was almost on me...
I turned back toward the alien crabs.
Maybe I could use them.
I stood up and started bashing my way into the alien ranks, keeping the ballistic shield angled behind me. I swerved to the left, in a hook motion, putting about five ranks of the things between me and the enemy gatling. My helpful Bravo friend mowed them all down for me.
I spun around and did the same thing in the other direction, hooking back to the right. Got the enemy mech to take down another row of crabs for me.
I dove deeper into the horde.
Claws were just snapping at me from all sides, slowing me down.
It got so bad that in moments I could scarcely move under all that weight.
And I knew that the Phant was still closing on me.
I fired off my horizontal jets, hurling myself backward
s and sideways through the milling throng. I launched a couple more gatling bursts, and swung my ballistic shield like a hammer.
I broke free from the enemy ranks, but I knew I was right back in the Bravo mech's line of fire.
I spun around and brought my shield up in time to block the bullet onslaught.
The blue mist came at me from the left. The crab horde, from behind and my right flank.
Pinned down on all sides...
The gargantuan dump truck abruptly rumbled to life.
The vehicle plowed backward, the giant rear wheel bouncing over the mech that crouched behind it.
That was my cue.
I thrusted forward while breaking into a sprint, and tore away from the milling mass. Firing a gatling burst, I swerved right and hurried out from the undercarriage, and once I was clear I activated my jumpjets at full vertical burn. I sloughed off a bunch of crabs that still clung to me in midair.
Glancing down, I saw that the mech had been thoroughly crushed by the giant wheel. A Phant was seeping from the crumpled metal that remained.
I landed on the roof of the dump truck's cab and clambered to the driver's side.
"It's me," I sent over the comm before peeking inside, just in case—I didn't want to be confused for a Bravo mech.
Alejandro saluted from behind the wheel. "I was getting a bit ticked that you were having all the fun down there."
He switched the dump truck out of reverse, and accelerated into the seething mass of crabs and slugs that waited ahead.
"This is going to be interesting," I said.
The whole vehicle bobbed up and down as the dump truck plowed through the army of alien crabs
, leaving a trail of dismembered claws and broken mandibles and splattered carapaces.
But already there were a bunch of crabs climbing up the side of the truck.
"Time to go, Alejandro," I said, mowing down a bunch of the climbers with my gatling. I was down to a hundred rounds now.
"Not yet."
He laughed maniacally as he drove around the excavation site, the dump truck bouncing and jolting along. Alejandro aimed at a slug and accelerated to full speed. Well, as fast as he could go with a bunch of dead crabs clogging the undercarriage, anyway.
The giant vehicle rammed into the slug. The whole front section of the dump truck lifted up, and the vehicle ground to a halt as the creature got jammed-up underneath. Alejandro revved the engine, but that got us nowhere.
Alien crabs had climbed the opposite side of the truck's cab, and swarmed onto the roof now.
"Well, that was fun while it lasted." Alejandro leaped out of the stalled truck. "Can I get a lift?"
I held Alejandro to my chest and activated my jumpjets.
I landed about thirty meters from the rim of the excavation, right beside one of those hydraulic power shovels.
I could have fired my jumpjets again, and in retrospect, I should have, but I thought to save fuel, and cross the remaining distance to the rim on foot.
It was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made. Maybe if I'd activated the jets, what happened next would have never transpired. Maybe things would have turned out differently.
Because when I hurried around that power shovel I walked right into a Phant.
I dropped Alejandro as the mist enveloped Hornet.
"Run Alejandro!"
I fired off a reverse burst with my jets, launching myself backward.
But it was too late.
The thing had already seeped inside.
"Inner shell, release!" I said. "Release!"
The vision feed from the mech winked out, and I saw only the red emergency lights illuminating the cockpit. The elastic shell that held me in place retracted and I fell forward against the inner hull.
"Cockpit open!" I said.
But it didn't. I must have damaged the release mechanism during the fighting.
I fumbled with the manual release latch. I jerked my hands away as I saw blue mist flow by right in front of my gloves, just inside the cockpit.
I waited for it to envelope me, waited for it to burn me to a crisp like the other Phant had done to Big Dog.
But the mist ignored me entirely, never wavering from its purpose. It wasn't concerned about me.
It just wanted my ATLAS.
The mist flowed into the CPU unit, just below my cockpit.
"Rade, are you all right in there?" Alejandro's deathly-afraid voice came over the comm. "Rade?"
The mech's servomotors roared to life.
"Run Alejandro! I've lost control of Hornet!"
I tried the manual release hatch again. No good.
I heard what sounded like bullets ricocheting from the outer hull, now.
"Vision feed on!" I said.
The outside world as viewed from the mech immediately overlaid my facemask.
Hornet swiveled toward Alejandro, who had disobeyed me of course. He was firing at the ATLAS with his pistol. That was like trying to take down an elephant with a blow gun. Sure, you might get extremely lucky and hamstring the beast, but you were more likely to just provoke the thing. The 9-mil armor piercers just weren't powerful enough.
"Alejandro get out of here!"
Alejandro retreated as he fired, but he lost his footing and tripped, falling backward to the ground. I could see Tahoe sprinting down the slope, trying to reach him.
"Alejandro get up! Get up!" I punched the cockpit hull with my gloved fists.
Hornet swiveled the gatling gun toward him.
I was going to watch him die.
Basically by my own hand.
I fumbled blindly for the manual release latch one last time.
It responded.
The mech's vision feed winked out as the cockpit hatch opened up.
The ATLAS didn't want me inside anymore. I was a parasite that it could do without.
Probably wanted to take me down right after Alejandro.
But the mech had made a mistake you see, because by opening the cockpit, it gave me access to its innards. In a small crack just beneath the cockpit hatch, I could see the brain case surrounded by the blue glow of the Phant.
Without pause I shoved my pistol through the crack and fired, slamming five bullets into the unshielded CPU.
I leaped out as Hornet collapsed in a useless heap; I hit the ground rolling and scrambled to my feet.
Behind me, the Phant emerged from the now-useless ATLAS.
"Let's go," I said.
"
Caramba
," Alejandro said. "Don't ever do that to me again."
Tahoe had halted not far ahead of us, and he was firing his 9-mil at the Phant and whatever else pursued us.
We reached him, and the three of us hurried over the rim of the excavation site. The seething front ranks of the alien crab horde flowed onto the plateau ten meters behind us.
The MDV was three hundred meters due ahead. The rest of the platoon waited there for us.
"About goddamn time," the Chief transmitted. The static on the comm was a little better. "Next time—" His voice cut out.
"Hey Chief," I sent back, then glanced at Alejandro and Tahoe. "Ever ran a one minute klick?"
Alejandro looked at me, then shook his head in disbelief. "
Caramba
."
I let loose.
The wind was starting to pick up. I could hear it whistle past my helmet, feel it shove me slightly to the left with each step.
A storm was coming.
My eyes were drawn to the horizon to my right, to the dark, roiling clouds that filled the sky. A monolithic, black shape was just starting to protrude from those clouds. I had no idea what it was. Some kind of ship, maybe.
I didn't look overlong. Too much to worry about right here, right now.
At first I didn't notice that the ground was shaking. I was running too fast, and I thought the shaking was just from my own movements.
But then a sinkhole opened up about twenty meters ahead, just off to the right.
A slug bigger than any I had seen so far came launching out of the black rock. It was white-hot, in "burrowing" mode, with steam flowing from its body. It towered above me, just this giant, evil maggot, straight out of nightmares, the size of a dreadnought starship. Not even my ATLAS would have been able to handle this.
Folds opened up in its skin, and multi-headed
alien crabs connected by dark cords leaped away from it, oddly reminding me of paratroopers making a jump.
They were r
eally big crabs.
As in,
ATLAS 5 big.
Their massive pincers snapped at the air.
Their giant mandibles chomped in anticipation.
The things cut us off from the MDV.
Alejandro, Tahoe and I fired off some shots, but the 9mm pistols we had left were useless against these bigger crabs.
We were forced to backtrack—
I tripped.
Alejandro was at my side instantly, helping me to my feet—
A crab slithered right up to him from behind, mandibles open wide—
Gatling fire from the MDV sawed the thing clean in half.
The turret spun, chewing up the other crabs that were bearing down on us.
Lieutenant Commander Braggs stood at the base of the MDV's ramp, waving Tahoe, Alejandro and me on.
"Rade, gotta hustle!" Tahoe said, helping me up with Alejandro.
The MDV cleared us a path through the crabs, but hit a bit of snag with the bigger slug, which wasn't slowed down in the least by the gatling gun. Those bullets actually seemed to bounce off its slick, white-hot flanks.
We ran right by the slug though, our smaller size giving us an advantage, speed-wise.
But as I passed the sinkhole, I saw a new type of Phant float out. It was a darker colored, purple Phant.
And it moved a hell of a lot faster than any of the alien mists I'd seen before.
The three of us continued toward the MDV. I glanced over my shoulder constantly. That purple mist was gaining.
I was the best sprinter in the platoon, and I started to pull away from Alejandro and Tahoe.
"We're not going to make it," Alejandro said over the comm.
I immediately checked my speed. I wasn't going to leave them behind. "We
are
going to make it."
But he was right. That mist was just moving too fast. Maybe if we still had our Implants, and our jetpacks, and could tap into the full speed of our suits. But not now.
"I never told you how I fixed my rebreather during Moonwalking Qualifications, when I had my hands bound, did I?" Alejandro said.
I glanced over my shoulder. "Alejandro. I need you to focus!"
"I did it by dislocating my shoulder," Alejandro continued. "And breaking one of my arms. When I passed the qualification, the instructors sent me straight to the Weavers. Some Houdini I was."
"Alejandro..." The MDV was only about a hundred meters away now.
"I guess there's not going to be any Weavers this time around, though, is there?"
"What are you doing!" Tahoe said.
I glanced over my shoulder.
Alejandro had decided to stop.
To stop.
I halted, turning back. "We can make it, Alejandro!"
"Time for Houdini's last trick." Alejandro smiled wanly, then he ran diagonally away, drawing the purple mist from me and Tahoe.