Bounty Hunter 2: Redemption (6 page)

Scott
swore again and Jack winced at the thought of what an unexpected turn like that
must have done to his leg. The transport began to move again and they could no
longer feel the vibrations from the first pounder. When the second one came
into view Jack saw down his scope that it hadn’t activated yet. The timers
displayed in his helmet said it should be online in ten seconds, and the final
one after that in six minutes.

They
were close when the timer elapsed and the pounder didn’t move. Scott was set to
drive straight past it until Jack screamed for him to stop. He frantically
unbuckled himself and leaped off onto the ground before the buggy came to a
complete stop. He knew that their transport was faster than the aliens could
run but not by much. They’d catch up soon and he only had a few seconds to pull
the lever and get back in.

The
light on the control panel was flashing red and he didn’t wait to see it turn
green after he snatched the lever and yanked it down. He dived back onto the
buggy and Scott had it moving before Jack had a chance to strap himself in. The
second pounder began emanating the same sounds and vibrations as the first and
more aliens burst up onto the ground. Jack steadied himself on top of the buggy
with one hand and awkwardly pulled the harness around him with the other.

Through
the scope Jack saw the oncoming mass of the aliens on the horizon. He couldn’t
tell if they had managed to topple the first pounder or if they had given up
but it didn’t matter, most of them were coming after them. Even more tunnels
were appearing around the second pounder than they did around the first. Jack
surmised that the initial pounder had stirred many aliens deep beneath the
surface and the second one was the final disturbance they needed to claw out of
the ground. He was suddenly dreading how many the third one would attract.

Jack
was about to open fire on the nearest aliens when the buggy stalled for a
moment. He reared his head around and saw the line of tunnels a few meters in
front of them. Scott must have thought he could brake before he came to them
but reconsidered and sped up instead. The transport surged forward, gaining
speed even when three of the creature’s heads poked up from the tunnels and
unleashed their combined menacing cries.

Scott
pressed the accelerator to the floor and Jack held on for his life despite
being strapped in. The buggy punched itself over the rift and lopped off the
middle alien’s head. The aliens on either side were smacked into the rim of the
tunnels with each of the front wheels. The rear wheels of the transport caught
the edge of the hole at the end of the jump and brought them hard on the ground
and to a dead stop.

Jack
scrambled for his rifle and began firing wildly at each of the aliens on either
side of the back of the buggy. He heard Scott yell something but couldn’t make
it out over the gunfire and he didn’t dare stop to ask him to repeat it. He
didn’t stop firing until they were moving again.

When
they were clear of the aliens he craned his head around to look for the last
pounder. He couldn’t see it without the help of his scope and his helmet’s
display showed less than a minute until it activated. He was worried how much
time their abrupt stop would cost them.

When
they got out of range of the second pounder they could already feel the
vibrations from the third. Ahead of them the landscape looked like a battle
that had already been fought and lost. Easily twice as many holes as the last
location littered the area like craters in an exploded minefield. The concentration
of the aliens was around the pounder, and the bottom of the metal cylinder was
caked in green blood and flesh. The structure looked more like a meat grinder
than a military tool.

Instead
of driving away from the swarm they now had to drive through it.

“We’re
fucked,” Scott laughed. “We’re so fucked.”

“Focus.”

Jack
watched Scott drive like a crazed man. His hands turned the steering wheel
constantly, whipping it from side to side, either to slide around a hole he saw
up ahead or to curve out of the way of one that freshly opened. Jack shot at
any targets he could find away from the pounder, not wanting to attract their
attention yet. There were so many that he fired mostly to boost Scott’s spirits
with the sound of at least one of them fighting back.

“Scout
Team Eight, are you there? Your scheduled return was three minutes ago. What’s
your status?” The voice came from inside Jack’s helmet. He took his left hand
from his rifle and pressed a finger near his temple to respond.

“Sir,
it’s a fucking mess out here. We were delayed but we’re still on our way. All
objectives are operational and many targets are following us. Many fucking
targets.”

“You’re
the only team that hasn’t made it back yet. We have to close the gate whether
you’re here or not. Tell your driver to haul ass.”

“Sir.”

Jack
growled and brought the rifle back up onto his shoulder. Down the scope he saw
the final pounder with enough aliens around it that they looked like a huge
single mass of crawling legs. He shot in bursts, aiming as best he could with
the transport rocking and veering below him, getting the attention of as many
as he could with his last magazine.

“Scott,
you were right about this one.”

“I
know.”

“We’re
just the fucking bait.”

“I
know.”

“They’re
closing the gate in a few minutes. Do whatever you can. As risky as you like.
We’re dead if you don’t.”

The
buggy reared forward and Jack had to hold on against the inertia pressing
against him. From all the careful turning and navigating Scott had to do around
the holes the approaching army of aliens had caught up some distance. Now, as
the vehicle haphazardly bolted over tunnel entrances and made a bee-line back
for the base, they were recovering their lead. Jack was shocked at how many new
tunnels still kept appearing even as they got closer to the base, further and
further out from the final pounder. They must have woken up the entire colony.

The
ground was clearer as the base was finally visible. Behind them Jack still saw
the ground popping open in the same pattern that they drove, as if the aliens
were inexplicably tracking their movements and were emerging only a few moments
too late. With no ammunition left all Jack could do was stare impotently as
they climbed out and chased after them. He slammed his hands against the frame
of the buggy as if he could make it go faster.

The
base was close when the aliens finally hit their mark. A tunnel opened up under
the buggy and swallowed the back portion of it. The wheels spun out uselessly
and one of the Dross clung to the back end of the transport with both of its
front claws deeply embedded in the metal. As it pulled itself up into the back
of the buggy it snarled, flashing its rows of teeth dripping in saliva.

Jack
pulled on the release for the harness and fell on his feet. The alien scratched
sparks along the floor of the buggy as it tried to catch hold of something to
pull its entire body on to it. Jack tossed his rifle into the creature and
ripped his side arm pistol out of its holster. He took one step forward and
aimed directly between its four eyes as it scurried faster to latch on. The
green blood sprayed out from the craters that were once its eyes and bubbled
out near his feet.

“Fucking
get it off so we can move! Hurry!” Scott screamed.

Jack
took two steps forward and readied himself to kick the carcass from the back of
the buggy. His foot was near connecting with the dead thing’s head when another
tunnel erupted directly below them. The force of the alien and the ground
breaking shot the buggy upwards and Jack with it. He was launched off the end
of the transport like a spring board toward the base and landed flat on his
back.

He
tried to get back on to his feet so fast that he almost tripped over himself.
He reached for his gun but it was gone, knocked somewhere in the impact. He
looked back at the buggy and saw the alien already tearing his way through its
innards from below. Scott was still in the front seat, unable to get out with
the state of his leg.

“Run!”
He shouted.

“No!”

Jack
sprinted back toward the buggy trying not to think of how close the alien’s
claws were getting to the back of Scott’s head. He was still screaming for him
to turn around and run away. The ground opened up in front of Jack and he
stopped one step away from falling into it. Alien tentacles whipped around the hole
and he sprung backwards.

“Fucking
run!”

“Fuck!”

Jack
spun around and sprinted to the base. The reinforced walls were colossal and
imposing over the surrounding plain and cast a shadow so large that he was
already caught in it. The gate was made as part of the wall that slid open only
enough for transports to leave two at a time. When closed the two parts of the
gate would slide together and interlock, completing the wall in such a way that
you couldn’t tell there was a gate at all. As Jack ran closer he saw that it
was already starting to close.

Behind
him the Dross was starting its chase. Jack didn’t dare look back and kept his
eyes on the decreasing gap in the gate. He could swear he could feel the
thing’s breath on his neck making his skin spasm in protest. A few paces from
the gate he dived and felt something swipe in the air where his head had been
an instant before. He landed in the base and heard the gate clamp behind him,
followed by a sickening squelch that he saw was half of the alien’s head when
he turned around.

Jack
knew that he needed to report in and that most of the other marines were
staring at him after his entrance. He got up and, instead of walking to his
commanding officer, went straight for the nearest ladder up the barricade on
the inside of the wall. At the top he could see out over where they had crashed
with the buggy. Soldiers lined the top of the wall with crates full of
ammunition and extra rifles. They were prepared for the siege but had not yet
begun to fire.

Jack
marched quickly to the nearest crate, picked up a long barreled rifle, and
loaded it without even looking at any of his fellow marines. He looked down the
scope at the buggy. He knew it was too late for Scott but he had to do
something.

“Sir,
we haven’t been given the orders to fire at the Dross yet. We’re to wait until
they get closer.”

“I’m
not going to fire at them,” Jack grunted back without taking his eye from the
scope.

Through
the lens he saw more of the aliens than he could count. The number he had seen
when the pounders were initially activated must have only been a small
fraction. A storm of dust followed behind them and from this distance it looked
like the aliens had become the ground, one green entity shifting toward them
like a tsunami. He focused on the buggy and saw Scott still in the driver’s
seat. He was dead and something was eating him.

The
front runners of the alien army were already around the buggy though the
majority were still a few minutes away. At least three of the Dross were eating
Scott with a few more tearing through parts of the buggy to get close enough to
join in. Jack had to contain the sudden white hot rage that flared up in his
chest. He carefully lined the cross hairs on the fuel tank of the transport,
inhaled, and squeezed the trigger twice in succession.

Even
at the distance he was from the buggy, up on the wall, Jack’s face was still
bathed in the orange and red light of the explosion. The aliens let out a
different screech as they died, only slightly different, but he hoped it signified
their pain. He put the weapon down where he found it and climbed back down the
ladder.

The
wall of the base was made of six parts that made a hexagon barrier around the
buildings and people within them. The main structure in the center of the base
was a pounder not unlike the smaller ones that he had just returned from,
excepting that it was many times larger and more powerful. It dominated the
base as a tower of their operations and the beacon that would lead the majority
of the aliens here. Jack hadn’t felt the vibrations from it yet but he saw that
the massive metal cylinder was moving slowly upwards now, warming up to begin
slamming into the ground.

The
walls, he knew, extended deep into the earth to protect them from underground
assaults as well as attacks from above ground. He pictured it like a mechanical
claw that dug deeply into the earth as if to scoop out a large crater worth of
soil, but halted after clamping together. He had heard other soldiers talking
that the barrier had a weakness in the center most point, and that the battle
would be one against the time it took for the Dross to discover that flaw. Jack
didn’t know what to believe.

The
tower had a secondary wall around it, standing nearly a dozen meters in the air
as a last defense if the outer wall failed. Jack saw his commanding officer
standing near the only open entrance to the secondary wall. He was clustered
with other officers busily barking separate orders into their headsets for the
multitudes of squads around the base. He nodded to Jack.

“South
side. Two spots on the wall. Your partner spots. You shoot.”

“He
can’t,” Jack stated simply with a firm set to his jaw.

“Ah,”
the officer closed his eyes while he nodded again. “In that case form up with
the rest of them on the west side. Make them pay.”

“I’ve
already started,” Jack muttered and turned to the west wall. He picked up his
pace when he got near the barricade and hastily scaled the ladder. He knew they
would open fire soon and he didn’t want to miss any time shooting at what had
killed Scott.

There
was an open space on the wall near the ladder and he knelt down behind it.
There were two crates spilling with bullets and four spare rifles for him to
share with the soldier to his right. He couldn’t help but mockingly laugh at
how hopeful the planning of the operation must have been to think they would
last long enough to go through it all. The rifle he picked was like the one he
had lost on the buggy, and it was already loaded and scoped.