Princess Rescue Inc (8 page)

Read Princess Rescue Inc Online

Authors: Chris Hechtl

“Sum-bitch!”
Lewis said jerking away as it fell out of the crevice and reared up at her. It
hissed then turned and snake crawled away.

“Get
it! Kill it!” Galloway urged. He slammed a rifle butt down pinning it. The
creature writhed under the plastic. They could hear it screeching and its claws
chittering on the rock. He stomped on the head, pinning it. Lewis came up
behind him with her survival knife and cut the head and body up with quick
savage strokes.

“We
got it!” she cried savagely looking up.

“It
doesn't matter Lewis,” the Gunny said softly, sitting on his haunches, shaking
his head. She looked over to him seeing his whole body relaxed.

“Oh
no, no,” she said softly. She shook her head in helpless denial knowing the
worst.

“Yeah,
She's gone. Must have been a paralytic or neural toxin. She's dead,” Fairfax
said throwing a rock in disgust as he took his stethoscope out of his ears.
“Fucking stupid way to die,” he sighed.

Galloway
nodded. “Yeah,” he sighed. “That it is.” He touched his throat mike.

“Four
to Five and Six, one KIA.”

“This
is Five. Roger.”

“This
is Six...who...” Ryans asked. Galloway grimaced. Ryan’s voice cleared. “Never
mind, Doc's on her way.”

They
had Shiller's body bagged by the time the others arrived with the last load.

“What
happened?” Ryans asked as Perry pulled up with the rear guard.

“Fucking
bug, big one. Some sort of scorpion. Bit Shiller and she dropped from the
poison in seconds. There wasn't a thing we could do. She was dead in less than
four minutes,” Fairfax said professionally, packing the paramedic bag back up.

Ryans
opened the body bag and looked briefly before he then zipped it shut again.
“Her lips and skin are blue,” he said a little shaken. The girl's skin had
looked swollen and puffy. She looked like a drowning victim or someone's poor
excuse for a zombie.

“Nasty
way to go. Least it was quick,” the Gunny said nodding. He was keeping an eye
on the rocks around them, looking for more places where the damn things could
hide.

The
Doc came up behind them arms crossed. She checked the body herself and then
grimaced. “Yeah, I'd imagine.”

Lewis
held up a clear sample bag with the body of the insect in it. “Burn it?” she
asked hopefully.

Ryans
and the others looked over to her then to the arthropod. “Yeah, no,” he said.
The marines turned a dark look on him. Ryans sighed. “Get it to Nate. Warn him
about the toxin. Tell him I want it isolated when we settle down somewhere and
in his free time try to figure out what it is so we can treat it.”

“It'll
take a full lab to figure out an antivenin,” the Doc cautioned, shaking her
head.

“That's
why I just want to know what it is so you can try a course of treatment if
possible.” He shook his head. “Antivenin later if we've got the resources.
Knowing what we're up against is just as important,” he sighed as he watched
them zip the body bag closed for the last time.

“It's
a bit like closing a barn door after the horses are out and the barn is burning
down, but we're going to have to be more careful. Work gloves, and look before
you leap. When in doubt stick a stick or something in first. I don't want to
lose anyone else from these damn things,” the Gunny growled.

“Agreed.
Let's get to work,” Ryans nodded brushing his legs off. He pulled a pair of
gloves out of a thigh pocket.

“What
about her?” Perry asked, indicating the body.

Ryans
frowned, shaking the gloves out. “Strip her body of any gear then we'll bury
her.”

“With
the cache?” Galloway asked, indicating the cache with a nod.

Ryans
turned back to them and shook his head. “No, but bury her nearby. That way her
body won’t attract scavengers to it. The last thing we need is someone to see
the pot at the end of the rainbow.”

“Good
idea,” Galloway nodded. He looked at the body bag. “I'll take care of it.”

<==={}------------>

The
Terran team made it through the pass with the last load just ahead of the scouts
of the approaching army. The scouts were riding a variety of alien animals,
some on two legs, and others six. They were all armed to the teeth and from the
dust clouds behind them they were bringing friends. As they raced down the
valley they saw the other end was plugged with a giant stone wall. “Caught in a
firetrap,” Perry observed and then shrugged. “No help for it. Onward and
upward.” He pointed to a mountain goat trail the LAV point had stumbled across.
It was just wide enough for the vehicles.

They
took the trucks up the slopes, going all wheeler just as the scouts of the
invading army hit the entrance of the pass and night fell. Torches were lit
along the top of the wall. The gas giant was no longer in the sky so the team
used night vision goggles and blue lights to see. When they crested the
mountain they looked back. The mountain pass was filled with enemy troops.
Perry got them over the side and down another goat trail and beyond the mouth
of the vale using the night vision goggles.

On
the other side just before they were out of sight they looked back to see the
army strike the wall and the defenders fighting a desperate battle. “Shouldn't
we help?” the Doc asked tentatively.

“Which
side Doc? I don't have a clue who the good guys are. No, this is not our
battle. Best to stay the hell out of it and try not to get caught in the middle
if we can help it,” Perry said shaking his head. He for one didn't like the
idea of the group that had branched off from the main attack to follow in the
Terran's tire tracks. That wasn't good. He wanted to get as far away from them
as possible as quickly as possible.

“We
don't know the players or the game. Best to sit back and watch Doc,” Ryans
agreed.

<==={}------------>

Thorvald
saw the strange green cart like things moving. There were no beasts to pull
them but there had been men around them at one point, he was sure of it. Men
made machines like that, machines with wheels. Gaijin, he thought with a savage
smirk. A perfect bonus, more loot, truly worthy loot for his sons to inherit.

Gaijin
were highly valued for the new blood they brought to the people and the new
things they brought with them. These had magical things indeed and he couldn't
wait to catch up to them and strip their secrets from them. He'd rape their
daughters or let his men do so. They deserved a little reward for their hard
march.

He
still smarted under Art’ur's tongue lashing. It was humiliating to be brought
down by a peasant and then berated for it by a boy. It was even worse when he
knew the stripling was right sear it! Art’ur had assigned him replacement
mounts but had acidly informed him to take better care of these. He intended to
make Art’ur eat those words, eat crow double when he brought the gaijin before
him.

He
spurred his beast onward. “Follow!” he bellowed, drawing his curved sword. “Let
the battle line take the wall! Second rank follow the gaijin up the hill!” he
called waving them forward and pointing with the sword. “There's loot to be
had, new loot!” he called, encouraging the doubters. His men gave a tired cheer
and moved forward with renewed purpose.

With
any luck the gaijin would stumble or stop because the trail did and he would
catch up with them. Or they would get over the pass and he and his men would be
able to hit the Duluth wall from behind he thought with savage anticipation.
Soon there would be blood; there would be battle... soon.... And there was no
place for the gaijin to go...

<==={}------------>

Meanwhile
Waters led a scout team to check on the raiders. They cut around the lead
scouting elements still digesting their ill-gotten booty to see just how big a
force they had. He found the vanguard of an invading medieval army. He radioed
in the bad news as he tried to get a head count.

“This
isn't good,” Ryans said shaking his head as Waters signed off. He wasn't
worried about the Master Sergeant, the man was a survivor, and he’d get back.

He'd
outfitted the group with the latest camouflage before they'd left, based on the
visual images from the MALP's and UAV that had come before them. It wasn't
perfect, no camouflage was, but it helped to blend them in. Waters and his team
had ghillie suits, with a bit of native vegetation and a healthy dose of luck
they should slip around the scouts and back to their vehicle and then back to
the convoy in under two hours.

“Tell
me something less obvious,” Perry growled, using his fork to mix gravy in his
potatoes. He hated the fake stuff, the dehydrated instant crap that tasted like
wet cardboard. He'd have real potatoes any day over this.

“No
I mean, hell,” Ryans sighed, running a hand through his hair then putting his
cap back on. “Look, back in medieval Europe raids were usually done with a
couple of hundred people. Armies were tiny back then. Hell some of the battles
in Britain were fought with less than eighty men on a side! Ten thousand? This
is insane!” he threw his hands up in the air. Ten thousand was pretty much
calling out all the stops for a medieval society. Unless they had one hell of a
birth rate.

“Yeah,
well tell them that,” Waters said shaking his head. “Looks like they pulled out
all the stops. Full court press with all the trimmings. And it's coed too.”

The
last report had stated that some, about one in five, of the raiders were women.
Barbarian women.
Savage
barbarian women. Not one marine had made a joke
about it after they were told about what the women did with the bodies of male
prisoners. Lorena Bobbitt had nothing on them.

“Right,”
Perry said. “It's almost like they plan to stay or something.”

“Interestingly
there are women fighting on both sides,” Doc said, sitting down beside them.
“This seat taken?”

“Nah
Doc, you go ahead,” the Gunny drawled. “Yeah, I noticed the women. About five
men to each woman if my math's right.”

Perry
looked up in thought. “Ratio sounds about right,” he nodded.

“Which
is another thing, medieval women didn't fight. At least not like this!” Ryans
waved.

“Queen
Boudicca?” Perry asked slyly.

Gunny
snorted. Perry looked at him. “Sorry sir, I was thinking Xena.”

Doc
blinked in confusion. “Okay Xena was a TV thing. The Queen...”

“Celtic
Queen. Welsh I believe. She fought in a chariot. Did pretty good for a while
but eventually she got her butt kicked by the Romans,” Ryans said, filling her
in.

Doc
blinked at him in confusion. “Oh. So what does that have to do with this
situation?”

“Nothing
really. We're just trying to put things into perspective,” Perry said
shrugging. He set his empty MRE tray aside.

“What?
That women can’t fight?” Doc waved a hand to the female soldiers in the group.

The
men exchanged amused looks. She ground her teeth together, drumming her fingers
against her hip until finally Ryans owned up. “Sexism is ugly, but it was
pretty well established before the industrial revolution Doc. Women don't have
the upper body strength to hold a shield wall, use a bow, or fight with a sword
for long. Women were thought of well...” Ryans shrugged.

“As
brood mares and maids,” Doc practically snarled. “I'd think we've come a ways
from that.” She gave the men a look but they were busy looking elsewhere.
“Though sometimes I wonder.”

“It's
easy to backslide Doc. It's an established pattern,” Ryans said with a shrug.
“Which makes my point. What the heck is happening here? Both sides are medieval
cultures. One seems a mix, the raiders look a lot like Vikings or Normans.”

“Well,
for one thing, this isn't Earth remember?” Doc said dryly.

“What
made you get that idea?  The gas giant in the sky or the six legged
critters and funky plants Doc?” the Gunny asked innocently.

She
gave him a dirty look. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, you can't expect things to be just
like on Earth. This place is different. Different environment means different
variables for social development. For all we know this could be normal.” She
waved a helpless hand. “For them I mean.”

“But
in the end it all boils down to the lowest common denominator Doc,” Ryans said
shaking his head. “In a feudal society the men fight and take care of the farm.
Which reminds me, if the women are here... who's minding the farms back home?
Is this all they have? Do they go around doing this? Or is someone sitting at
home? Were they
driven
from their homes? If so by who or what?”

“Or
is this an all hands on deck like the Mongols,” Perry said shrugging. “According
to what they taught us in the academy ancient armies had followers.”

“Groupies,”
the Gunny said with a snort.

“Wives
and children of the soldiers. Also support personnel. Though these...” He
shrugged. “We don't know if they are fighters or not. Or auxiliaries.”

“Men,”
Doc growled, getting up and leaving.

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