Alarm of War, Book II: The Other Side of Fear (10 page)

Rafael was still struggling to get the pylons assembled.  “Don’t let them get any closer!” he warned, snapping together the last pylon and anchoring it near the wall.  He frantically backtracked, moving from pylon to pylon and adjusting the cones.  Behind them, Emily could hear the horses’ frantic whinnies and in front of them two more grogin joined the first four.  As one they moved forward.

“Emily!” Rafael shouted.

Emily raised the sonic rifle, centered it on the middle two grogin and fired.  There was a loud
WHAPPA!
snap and three of the grogin tumbled backwards as if hit with a mighty hand.  Two groggily regained their feet, but the third stayed down.  Emily tightened the cone settings.  She’d have to aim more carefully, but the impact would be that much more lethal for those she shot.  Five more quick shots and another two grogin were down.  The three survivors backed away grudgingly, calling out to their pack in the eerie, undulating wail that was their trademark.

Then from the undergrowth burst ten, then twenty, then thirty grogin, a tsunami of black fur and snarling teeth.  They paused for a moment to take in the scene, then sprang to the attack.

One of the annoying limitations of sonic rifles is that due to the need to recharge they cannot be set on automatic.  Wishing fervently that she was in a space ship instead of high on some damn mountain, Emily went to one knee and shot as rapidly as she could pull the trigger.

WHAPPA! WHAPPA! WHAPPWHAPPWHAPPWHAPP
  But every fourth shot or so the trigger clicked without effect as the energy cell struggled to recharge.  Grogin slammed through the air, somersaulted, cartwheeled and in one gruesome instance, exploded from the shock of the blasts.  And in her mind’s eye, Emily saw not grogin, but Dominion warships, and she fired and fired some more, aware that this attack had been thrust upon her.  She hadn’t planned it and it wasn’t the result of orders that she had made.  It just was the way things had turned out.  She felt a tremendous, soaring relief that all she had to do was fend for herself and survive.   She had no crew she was responsible for.

She fired again and dirt kicked up a yard or more in front of the grogin.  She adjusted her aim and fired again.

WHAP!

A tree branch three feet above the grogin burst into splinters.

“Try aiming
at
them,” Rafael shouted.  “It works so much better!”

She gritted her teeth and fired again and again and this time more grogin fell.

But the rest kept coming.

“Any time, Raf!” She had to scream to be heard over the roar of the animals. 
WHAPPA!  WHAPPWHAPP  WHAPPA!
  Four more of the beasts went down in a tumble of black fur and spraying blood.  From the corner of her vision, Emily saw Rafael stab at the power button.  The air in front of her crackled, then the first grogon reached the perimeter and leapt, teeth bared, frantic to tear its prey apart.

There was a violent spark and a flash of light.  The grogon seemed suspended in the force field for a long moment, then collapsed dead at the bottom of the pylon, its fur smoking.  The rest of the attackers scattered backwards.  Emily raised her rifle again, but the grogin darted into the undergrowth and disappeared.  Moments later a long, undulating wail filled the air as the survivors called to their pack for help.  And a heartbeat after that the air filled with a chorus of wails and grunts as the other grogin of the pack replied.

Rafael came and sat down beside her.  He opened his jacket and took out the radio beacon with the large red button, which he pressed firmly with his thumb.  Emily looked at the charge on her sonic rifle:  ten percent left.  She had three more energy packs, but then realized with a sinking feeling that two of them were in a bag on the pack horse.

She looked at Rafael.  He smiled crookedly.  “Okay, maybe we should go to
Tinjdad instead.  Not that this isn’t fun, mind you.”  On the other side of the fence a dozen grogin lay in crumpled heaps, some in pieces. In the woods they could see dozens of grogin peering at them from the bushes and darting around them in a large semi-circle.  Emily had the unnerving sense that the grogin were intelligent, that this was more than just hunting instincts bred into their genes.

“What do you want first?” Rafael asked.  “Good news or bad news?”

“Bad,” she replied.  It always helped her to know the worst.  She had no idea why.

“Bad news is that the plasma rifle and all of the extra energy packs for the fence are on that goddamned pack horse.  Good news is that the power cell on the fence should last another eight hours, and maybe a little longer if we turn it off when we think it’s safe.”

One large grogon emerged from the woods and stared at them.  It was easily half again as large as any of the others and Emily guessed it was the alpha female Danny had mentioned.  Its eyes were black pools and she could swear it was looking directly at them, sizing them up.  Slowly, she raised the sonic rifle.

“Don’t bother,” Rafael said.  “The force field will screw up the shot.  Sonic, flechette, slugs, just about anything but the plasma rifle, the force field throws off the trajectory of the shot.  But we can always do this,” he said, and reached over and turned off the power.

But as soon as the force field dropped, the grogon turned and disappeared into the trees.  Then, just a moment later, several grogin charged at them from different directions, mouths open, teeth bared.  Emily cursed and snapped off two shots, missing both times, then the power came on and the screen flared for a moment and the air crackled.  The grogin turned and vanished into the trees.

“You really are a terrible shot,” Rafael said mildly.  “It’s a good thing you Fleet types have computers to help aim your missiles.”

“Gods of Our Mothers, tell me the grogin are not intelligent!” she gritted.  “They know about the force field and they even know we can’t shoot through it!”

Rafael went through his pockets and finally found his radio.  He tried to raise one of his uncles, but the interference from the force field fence filled the air with static.  With a resigned sigh he turned it off to save the battery and slipped it back into his pocket. 

“Emily, are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Sweet Gods, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am okay,” she said, shaking her head in mild astonishment.  “I mean, I know we’re in a world of hurt and all that, but at least if I screw up I won’t be responsible for the loss of Victoria.  It’s just you and me and a couple of hundred grogin.”

Rafael laughed ruefully.  “One way of looking at it.”

For the next hour there was a lull.  Grogin trotted through the clearing, stopping to stare at them for a minute or two, and then trotting back into the forest.  The wailing would start and stop, but the answering wails grew steadily closer and louder.  Emily took the time to try to calm the horses, but their eyes rolled white in their heads and they frantically pulled at the rope tying them to a small tree.  Fearful that they might actually free themselves, Emily removed the saddle bags with their remaining supplies and laid them on the ground.  She offered a biscuit to Rafael, who accepted it absently, never taking his eyes off the grogin.

It was then that the grogin tried a new tactic.  Two of the beasts walked warily up to the force field, sniffing at the ground, trying to determine exactly where the perimeter was.  Then they both turned their backs to the fence and, using their strong back legs, began to kick dirt, twigs and leaves against the force field.  The field crackled and flashed as debris hit it and was vaporized.

“Aw, crap!” Emily muttered.  Rafael looked at her in confusion.

“What?  They aren’t going to break the field with a few twigs and some dirt.”

“Don’t you see?”  Emily demanded, fear making her impatient.  “The force field uses more energy when something hits it, large or small.  If they keep this up they’ll drain the energy pack; we won’t get eight hours out of it.”

Rafael looked at the grogin with horrified respect.  More grogin came and stood just on the other side of the force field, growling at them, ready to dart in and attack if they turned off the fence.  Others joined in kicking debris into the force field so that it crackled and popped almost its entire length.

“How long until Danny and Amin get here?” Emily asked, unable to take her eyes off the sparkling, hissing fence.

“A full day, maybe more,” Rafael replied.

Emily checked the readout on the energy pack.  “We’ve got five hours at best.”  She stood up and turned away from the snarling beasts to the rock wall.  About fifteen feet up there was a shelf.  She couldn’t tell how wide it was, but there were some bushes growing on it, so probably wide enough to stand on.  She walked along the wall, looking for hand holds, anything they could use to climb up to the shelf.  There wasn’t much.  There were, however, some small saplings.

“Do you have an axe?” she called to Rafael.  In reply, he pulled out a hand axe from one of the saddle bags and tossed it to her.  “Any rope?” she asked.  He emptied one of the bags and found a coil of climbing rope and a coil of thin parachute cord.  “Will this do?” he asked.  Emily took the parachute cord.

An hour later she had built a fourteen foot ladder and leaned it up against the wall.  Seeing this, the grogin began to frantically push forward, brushing the force field and being thrown back, then pushing forward again. Rafael checked the power readings once more and grimaced, shaking his head.

“Let’s go up,” Emily suggested.  Rafael held the ladder while Emily cautiously climbed it to the shelf.  The ladder wobbled and twisted.  Once on the shelf, Rafael tossed her guns and equipment.  The grogin were howling and wailing, pushing into the force field so that it sparked and flashed continuously.

“Rafael!  What do we do with the horses?” Emily called.  “We can’t leave them tied up, they’ll be defenseless.”

He nodded and cut the ropes tethering the horses, which began to run back and forth, frantically looking for a way past the grogin. “Good luck, fellas,” he murmured. Then Emily held the ladder and he climbed it gingerly, the ladder sagging alarmingly to one side.  Once up on the shelf, he pulled up the ladder and stowed it.

“Let’s see what we’ve got up here,” he said and walked the length of the shelf. 

“Your father said the grogin can jump twenty feet,” Emily reminded him.  “They’ll be able to reach this shelf easy.”

Rafael nodded absently, studying the rock.   The shelf was about four feet deep at its deepest, tapering off at either end to just a few inches wide.  The wall above them rose another thirty feet.  Rafael knew a bit about climbing, but it looked awfully smooth to him.

“Can you climb this?” he asked Emily.  Emily glanced at the wall, studying it, then turned in a slow circle, taking in everything near them. 

“Don’t think I could,” she said slowly, “but maybe we don’t have to.”  She walked along the shelf several yards and pointed to a tree that grew about ten feet away.  It was one of the “Dances with God” trees, not yet full grown but easily forty feet high. More importantly, it still had branches growing this low to the ground.  Working quickly, they extended the ladder until it rested precariously on one of the
shatah mallah’s
lower branches.  Suddenly the two saplings Emily had used to build the ladder looked very thin and fragile.  Rafael took the climbing rope and wove it into a rough harness, which he put on her and tied tight.   He tied the other end to himself.

“Listen!” he said roughly.  “You have to crawl across the ladder to the tree, but you have to do it fast.  The grogin can jump high enough to knock you off the ladder and if that happens, you’re dead.  I’ll cover you, but move fast!”   Emily nodded, feeling her stomach tighten. She used a piece of rope to make a sling for her sonic rifle and slung it over her back. 

Ready to go. But then an impulsive burble of laughter rose in her throat.

She turned, took his face in her hands, batted her eyes ostentatiously and said huskily:  “I will
always
remember this vacation.”  Then, before he could even register astonishment, she turned, still laughing, got down on her hands and knees and started across. 

She made it past two rungs, then three, then the entire ladder wobbled precariously, swaying to and fro.  Emily hesitated, holding tightly to the sides.

“Don’t stop!” Rafael urged.  “Keep going!  I’ll hold it!”

Below, two dozen grogin craned their heads upwards to watch her, and then ran growling and wailing to a spot beneath the ladder, circling hungrily under her.

Then, with a final ‘Snap!’ the force field died and the grogin there leapt forward.  They ignored the terrified horses and swarmed to the base of the rock.  Several of them scrabbled at the rock face, futilely trying to gain purchase.  Then one of the females ran in a tight circle and leapt in one fluid motion to the lip of the shelf.  It threw its head back and howled, a long, blood-curdling howl that set off a frenzy of barking and wailing from the dozens of grogin below.

Then Rafael shot it with the flechette rifle, reducing its head to a bloody pulp and spraying bone, fur and blood everywhere.  The grogon’s corpse tumbled back over the stone ledge and fell, limp and bloody, to the ground.

Emily inched forward, almost lying down on the ladder to keep herself from being tossed off as it swayed violently.  Below her she could see the first grogon tense to leap up at her. 
Bugger me!
she thought, knowing there was no way to reach either her rifle or pistol in time.  Then its foreleg disappeared in a burst of pink as Rafael shot it and the grogon fell writhing and wailing to the dirt.