Dawn of the Mad (7 page)

“Cover!” the scarred officer yelled. Two stun grenades bounced off of the first barricade and detonated, causing a brilliant white flash that temporarily blinded and disoriented the forward-most defenders.

“Open fire!”

The first three-man team through the entrance was cut down by a hail of concentrated gunfire that quickly found weak spots in their armor. The second and third teams, along with Sergeant Matthias, took up kneeling positions and returned fire. Dozens of green corkscrewing energy waves exited the troopers’ EMR rifles and hit the front barricade with devastating results. The ancient electro-metallic projectiles penetrated the hasty barricade with ease, along with the bodies of a few of the unfortunate defenders, and continued down the corridor with devastating results. Red mist and body parts showered and coated the metallic walls, creating a macabre work of art. At the end of the corridor, the scarred officer pulled himself up to a sitting position. He looked down and saw that his right arm was gone, blown off by one of those accursed rifles. He spat blood and fingered the hand cannon in his left hand. He could see troopers filling the corridor. He feigned death as a trooper cautiously approached. A few moments later he felt a hard kick to his ribs.

Thinking the defender was dead, the trooper began to search the body for intel. He was too slow to detect the hand cannon suddenly pointed under his chin. The scarred officer sneered as he pulled the trigger. An explosive projectile blew the trooper’s head into dozens of fragments and wet mush. The headless body sank to its knees before falling directly on top of the scarred officer. With what strength he had remaining, he managed to push the corpse off and to his side. When he looked up, he was staring into the cut down barrel of an old slug thrower held one-handed by its owner. The trooper opened the face shield of his helmet, looking his quarry directly in the eye. The scarred officer broke a thin smile upon seeing the grey- haired veteran trooper.

“I am ready,” the scarred officer whispered.

“The war is over for you,” Matthias whispered back as he pulled the trigger. The slug thrower kicked hard, and the impact of the slug splattered the wall with brain and skull matter.

“Colonel, we have movement!” A lone trooper said over the tactical net main channel as he stood next to another trooper fidgeting nervously, his finger on the trigger of his EMR. The portable hand scanner gave multiple readings. The jungle swayed back and forth in front of them, yet no breeze could felt by the trooper. Both troopers walked backward together slowly toward the comforting hull of the drop ship.

The colonel yelled back over the net, “What do you mean, ‘movement’?” He was trying to follow Matthias’s breach into the next corridor, and his trooper was making it difficult by breaking into the main net channel. “Enemy personnel?” he yelled again, slightly irritated. His troopers lacked battle experience, and he didn’t need them panicking at the first sign of the unexpected.

“I-I don’t know sir. The scanner is reading all over the place!” Static followed the transmission.

“Sergeant, Calm down!” the colonel said. “Give me a proper report. Are you under attack?” The colonel stood by the entrance to the bunker. Looking down the entranceway, he could see overhead lights starting to flicker on and off. The remaining platoon had created a thin perimeter around the LZ. The colonel tried again to get Kortez to respond, but all he got was static.

“Damn this place!” the colonel yelled to no one in particular as he raised his face shield. “Captain!”

“Yes, sir!” Captain Cruwell ran back from just inside the bunker entrance, raising his face shield as he acknowledged the colonel.

“Take your platoon in once Matthias has the next wing secured. I’m going to take some troopers back with me and check out the LZ. Our rear perimeter might be breached.”

“Sir, I can go and secure the area—” He was cut off abruptly by the sound of automatic fire from both the left and right side of the LZ perimeter.

“Negative.” The colonel grabbed his battle sword from its magnetic sheath on his back. The sword hummed with energy in his gauntleted hand. “I’ll take care of it. Keep the assault fluid, Captain. You’re in charge until I get back.” Slamming his face shield closed, he motioned at two nearby troopers who ran to his side. “Spread out, stay within sight,” he said to them grimly. Both troopers brought their rifles up to eye level and followed the colonel back toward the LZ.

The colonel rarely felt afraid anymore; years of war had made him indifferent to death. Eventually, he surmised, when it was your time … it was your time. As he led his two troopers into the strange jungle and toward the LZ, he felt a chill run down his spine. He sensed he was being watched by unseen eyes.

The scorched clearing of the LZ was just up ahead. It seemed easier going back, as if the jungle was letting them through. The firing that the colonel had heard earlier had stopped. He had left 3rd platoon under the command of Sergeant Kortez to secure a perimeter around the LZ. Kortez was a good trooper, and the colonel was hoping it was a glitch in the helmet comms. He couldn’t see any of his troopers around the drop pod. Another call to Kortez on the main tac channel went unanswered.

“Sir, lookout! 3’oclock!” The trooper on the right fired a quick succession of bursts from his EMR. The corkscrewing projectiles made a whooshing sound as they exited the barrel. The colonel saw, at the right edge of the LZ, one of his 3rd platoon troopers being dragged off by a strange beast covered in yellow quills. Dropping the limp body, the beast vanished into the jungle before the colonel could get a better look. The troopers gave pursuit before stopping at the edge of the jungle.

Cautiously making their way around the drop pod, the colonel and the other trooper came upon a dismembered trooper lying in a pool of crimson. The trooper’s head was missing. The three fanned out and completed the sweep of the LZ perimeter. They found three more headless corpses.

“Whatever hit them hit them hard and fast,” the colonel said. He frowned; the light was getting worse as the sun began to set. “We need to get back to the bunker before nightfall.”

One of the troopers standing at the edge of the LZ yelled out, his voice filled with panic. The colonel watched with awe as a ten-foot-tall purple plant with long red thorns around the stalk swayed close and spat a white viscous glob out of a large yellow orifice. More plants moved up and spat in unison, filling the air with a hissing sound like a viper snake. Within seconds, the trooper was covered head to toe in a milky white substance. He ceased his struggle and lay on the ground paralyzed. Roots and vines reached out and took hold of his body, dragging it into the jungle. The other trooper began firing wildly into the oncoming mass of purple and green. After expending his ammunition, he dropped his rifle and tried in vain to get inside the drop pod, banging on the closed ramp. The plants caught him quickly, covering him in white fluid. Within seconds, his paralyzed body vanished into the oncoming jungle.

All around, the colonel could see the LZ shrinking right before his eyes as the jungle slowly retook the scorched earth. As he watched in awe, the only thought that crossed his mind was that he would not die in battle, but become food for a bunch of mutant plants.

Matthias looked intensely at four prisoners, dressed in white lab coats, standing with their hands on the scorched wall. Four troopers efficiently frisked them.

“They were hiding in the med lab,” one of the troopers said to Matthias. “Apparently they did not participate in the two-way range, sir. They were not armed.”

Matthias rested his slug thrower over his shoulder, the barrel pointed at the ceiling. “What is this place?” he asked. None of the prisoners spoke, each one staring at the ground. Matthias walked through the first open door to his right off of the main corridor. A sign above the door read “Genetics Laboratory.” The room was much larger than indicated on the map. The walls were lined with computers and various medical apparatus. Some of the equipment had been smashed, although the damage was negligible. Microscopes and other devices Matthias could not identify lay on metal tables. The tables surrounded six large, clear rectangular tanks that lay in a straight line in the middle of the lab.

“Scotts! Get in here!” Matthias yelled.

Scotts rushed in sans helmet. “Corridor is secure, sarge. The next door down opens into another genetics lab further to the left. There is one more door down on the right that’s locked.”

“OK. I am going back topside to get the colonel down here. He is not answering. See what you can make of this place. I’d like to have some kind of an answer before I return.”

“Roger that, Sarge,” Scotts said.

“Damn radios!” Matthias yelled as he exited the bunker. He was surprised that it was dusk already. 2nd platoon still covered the entrance to the bunker. Matthias didn’t see Cruwell anywhere in sight.

“Where is the captain?” Matthias asked the nearest trooper. He stiffened up, bringing his rifle to port arms.

“Sergeant, the captain went back to the LZ,” the trooper replied rather stiffly.

“At ease, troop. He went by himself?”

“Yes, sergeant. There was gunfire, and he said couldn’t get the colonel on the net.”

Now Matthias was furious. The colonel had left on his own without telling him. Even worse, an inexperienced officer took off alone after him. He had been with the colonel through countless battles, and he would be damned if he would lose him now.

“I need five volunteers,” Matthias said. Five troopers immediately stepped forward. “The rest of you maintain your position here. If I am not back with the colonel, you will report to Corporal Scotts.” The remaining troopers nodded in unison.

Matthias broke into a run toward the LZ, with the five troopers hot on his heels. He could have sworn the jungle was alive, the strange plants widening the path, letting him and troopers proceed with ease.

The colonel was covered from head to toe in what he could only guess was purple blood. Several vines had snaked toward him, trying to wrap themselves around his ankles. But he was faster, slicing the vines, causing the plants to retreat. He slowly made a small circle, looking in all directions, his sword humming steadily in both hands.