Princess Rescue Inc (7 page)

“In
other words, we've got to move,” Ryans said thoughtfully nodding, eyes grim.

“Why?”
Nate asked. “Not that I'm complaining or anything, but surely they aren't
hostile.” The Sergeant gave him a mixed look of exasperation and tried
patience. “I mean to us,” Nate hastily said.

“From
their reaction to unarmed people...” Perry said.

“Still
we should find out,” Sue began.

“Later,”
Ryans said getting up. “From their reaction to those unarmed people I'm not in
any great hurry to walk up and say hi.”

“You
don't want to make first contact?” she asked surprised.

He
looked at her in surprise. “You do?” He waved to the ocean. “I for one want to
have more than that horn behind us if it goes bad. It's impassible, all rocky.
We can't retreat. There is absolutely no cover here, so it's dead easy to see
us and it's not very defensible. I want an avenue of retreat, and access to
fresh water. I don't want to be trapped if they have friends.” Perry nodded in
appreciation. What Ryans said made sense to him as well.

“We
can take them on...” Lewis said stubbornly.

“For
how long?” Perry asked giving the Corporal a look. He was surprised to be on
Ryan’s side. The smart thing was to avoid contact and gather intel before
trying to do something. “Ammo will hold out for only so long Corporal, when
it's gone it's
gone
. I don't know about you, but I'd rather get ahead of
those raiders and stay ahead of them until we find out more about them and just
how many there are,” he said firmly. Some of the others nodded, namely the
combat veterans. Waters knew from experience, he'd been in both Iraq wars and
had heard shit about people biting off more than they could chew. He for one
wanted to know just what they were dealing with.

“This
isn't a democracy, no matter what people think. I'm in charge,” Ryans said
giving them all a stern look. “We're wasting time.” He turned to Perry.
“Lieutenant, detail your men as you see fit for security. Everyone else, start
packing. Fast people. I want to be out of here in two hours if not sooner.”

Max
rubbed his knuckles. “What do we do with the excess gear we can't carry?” he
rumbled. He'd spent the better part of the morning getting that busted tail
hitch fixed and sorting out the vehicles with Scooter.

Ryans
scowled. “We'll take what we can. Sort it out. If we can, we'll get the buggies
to run back and forth with the trailers. Something tells me we're on a limited
time crunch though. Find a ditch. You may want to bury what we can't carry.”
Max nodded and moved off at a trot.

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

The
raider leader, Thorvald reported in. He bowed politely to King Art’ur, aware
his life was on the line for his failure. He smarted, angry that he was put in
such a position by a lowly peasant.  He'd lost a third of his
branacks
and had to confiscate another from a knight to ride. Since he had been tasked
with not over extending his animals and the enemy had taken to the foot trails
he'd abandoned the chase to return to report.

Now
he regretted that decision. Here he had to listen to the whelp's wrath and
smart under his rage like a dog.

“I
believe you were ordered to kill the refugees to prevent them from warning the
wall?” the new king asked mildly, fingers drumming on the pommel of his sword.
He was tall, not fully grown but well-muscled like most of his men. Years of
hard living in the North and constant practicing for war had done that. His
brown hair was braided in the back but kept short to better fit under his
helmet.

“I...
Majesty forgive me please. We were delayed,” Thorvald ground out. He realized
now what the refugees had intended. They had been cunning in their sacrifices.

“Delayed?
Delayed?” Art’ur snarled, kicking Thorvald away and pacing in a circle as the
bigger, older man righted himself. “Delayed?” Art’ur said throwing his
gauntleted hands up in disgust. “By peasants, with what? Sticks?” he snarled
turning on his scout commander.

“Hunting
spears and arrows Majesty. They used fire to throw my
branack
charge in
the hill encounter and then later a lone warrior struck at my beasts as we were
about to cut them down,” Thorvald ground out.

“How
many? How many did you lose?” Art’ur's eyes glinted as this news penetrated his
ire. Thorvald stuttered out an answer. The new young king was pissed that he
had lost so many animals and hadn't captured any replacements or gathered much
food. The general of the Duluthian army rode up and got down from his
branack
and thrust its reins to a hapless page. The boy could barely keep the unruly
beast in check as he led it off.

Thorvald
pointed out that he did capture the bridge. “But you let the enemy get away to
warn the wall!” the general thundered, old craggy face red in rage. His once
fire red beard was streaked with the gray of age. He was losing muscle mass, no
longer the brute he once was. He traded strength for wisdom, or so he thought.

“They
didn't go to the wall, they headed up a small trail that my
branack
couldn't follow father,” Thorvald said bowing to his father.

“Ah,
indeed, perhaps they won't get to the wall in time then?” the new king murmured
rubbing his stubble covered chin. He had yet to get his full beard growth, a
point of ire he had. The subtle reminder that Thorvald was the general's son
wasn't lost on him. He needed the general, needed his wisdom, counsel, and his
support. Needed it badly to keep the other Dominuses and knights in line until
he cemented his own control. His father had died only five short months ago,
not long enough to gain the trust and respect of the other Dominuses and
lordlings.

“If
we move fast your Majesty,” the general suggested, turning, one hand on the
pommel of his war ax. “If we can get to them before they light the fires and
warn Emroy...” he said, eyes thoughtfully turning to the army.

They
had numbers; every able bodied man and woman had been called up for this great
endeavor. With luck the gods would favor their bold move with much booty. If
King Andreas was wise he would sue for peace and give them the food and
materials they needed.

The
last harvest had been bad; the long winter had been terrible. Many of the old
and young had died. The winter had lasted longer than they had predicted and
spring had sprung late, extending the misery.

The
old wise King Richard had died in the winter leaving his stripling of a son in
control. Art’ur had trained with Thorvald, they were like brothers but now his
newly elevated status made him forget such things. He had yet to grow into the
role of king and wanted to make a name for himself in the only true way a great
noble of Duluth should, with blood and battle steel!

Art’ur
nodded. “Yes, yes indeed. We must be within and beyond the border before dawn
tomorrow. Move! Thorvald gather a handful of
branack
and move like
lightning! I want you to find a trail up around the wall...” Thorvald and the
general leaned close to hear their king and his plan.

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

The newly arrived Terrans packed up in a rush, they had no
idea how long it would be before the natives discovered them.  They had
two hummers, 1 engineering vehicle, 1 pumper vehicle, some desert LAV buggies,
seven ma deuce supply trucks, four Stryker troop transports, one fuel tanker,
three flatbeds loaded with equipment and construction vehicles, 1 hummer
ambulance, and the civilian vehicles. Each vehicle had a medium or large
trailer filled with goods and equipment or water and fuel tanks.

Master Sergeant Waters asked why they couldn’t go back to
Earth, but Lieutenant Perry reminded him the portal was closed for a year.
“Besides, I think it's a bit far out for us to get to you know?” Perry said
pointing to the distant shimmering, about a half mile from the edge of the
cliff. Waters nodded in grim agreement. They double timed for the vehicles just
as the sun peeked out from the eastern clouds.

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

“What
do we do with this?” Lewis grunted. “Fucking paperweight,” she grunted.
“Where's a forklift when we need one huh?” she griped. There were two forklifts
attached to the back of the flatbeds but they were useless in the hills of
course. The flatbeds had been dropped with their loads in a narrow ravine and
then camouflaged. The trucks had pulled off to join the rest of the convoy.

“Shut
up and lift Lewis,” the Gunny said. “And be careful with that. It's the
reactor.”

“Reactor!”
she said looking up and nearly dropping her end. “No one said anything about
radiation!” Her eyes were wide, she was backing away fast.

“Cause
there isn't any dummy,” the Gunny sighed. “It's an RWG. Same thing we use for a
lot of stuff. They pulled that one off the NASA shelf and air lifted it to us
just before we left. It'll power the base if this green shit doesn't pan out.”

“Ah,”
she grunted turning and calming down. She finally spotted the yellow and black
radiation symbol, “Great so much for having kids,” she muttered.

“Lewis...”
the Gunny started to say, losing patience.

“I'm
going, I'm going,” she grumbled moving forward.

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

They
managed to get everything and everyone off the horn and to the mountain pass.
Perry detailed scouts out ahead of the convoy to find a way through the pass
without going along the trail. “No sense getting caught if they don't have to.”
One of them found a narrow ravine off in a cleft of rocks. Rock spurs
overshadowed it, making it impossible to see from the trail below. They stashed
the excess gear there.

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

“OW!”
Shiller jerked her hand back, looking at it. Lewis looked at her and then shook
her head.

“What?
Drop a rock on your toe? Move it Shiller, we've got work to do. We've got to
get this stash buried and our asses out of the area, pronto,” the Gunny
snarled. He was tired, and his back was killing him but he wasn't about to
quit.

“Something
bit me sarge,” she said shaking her hand and then swooned. “Ah, I don't
feel...” She toppled over and started to shake.

The
Gunny froze, seeing the woman go down. They seriously didn't need... ah shit,
he thought, realizing something was seriously wrong. “Shiller? No time for this
crap Marine!” The Gunny rushed past Lewis and to Shiller's side.

“What
happened?” he demanded checking her vitals. “Shit, she's flat lining,” he
cursed. So much for it being stress or heat related. “MEDIC!” he bellowed.

“She
said something bit her Gunny!” Lewis stammered suddenly alarmed.

“Ah,
fuck me,” The Gunny said checking the girl.

“Right
hand. She stuck it under that rock to pick it up,” Lewis said pointing as the
Gunny tore at the girl's clothes to do CPR. The Gunny looked at the hand. The
veins in it were standing out and the whole thing was purple.

“Right
into a creepy crawler’s nest no doubt,” the Gunny snarled. “Goes to show
sticking your hand in a dark crevice is not a good idea.” He touched his throat
mike. “Medic! I need Doc and a crash cart here yesterday!”

“What's
the problem Gunny?” Galloway instantly answered. Took him long enough.

“Shiller's
down, bite to her right hand. Flesh is swollen and purple. She's got a thready
pulse, barely breathing. Either she's got an allergic reaction or its poison.
My money's on poison,” he said clinically and then grimaced. He looked up to
the wide eyed Lewis who was standing there staring. “Lewis get a crow bar, find
that damn critter and kill it. Get the body to that biologist egghead.”

“Nate.”

“Whatever.
Maybe he can whip up an antivenin.” He checked the girl’s pupils. “Pupils are
dilated and fixed. She's flat lining fast, come on people MOVE! GET THE LEAD
OUT!” he called.

“Here!”
Fairfax charged up the slope, tossing a bag at the Gunny's side when he
slipped. “Adrenalin is in the outer most pocket left side!” he said as he slipped
and went down in a shower of gravel.

“Got
it,” The Gunny's hands flashed as he set up the instruments to monitor the
girl's vitals. He grimaced as they cascaded downward. Her heart rate was barely
there.

“Heart
is fibrilating!” He reached for the adrenalin.

“Defib
paddles.” Fairfax's hands flashed, pulling them out. “Clear!” The Gunny yanked
his hands back as the medic ripped the girl’s uniform all the way open and
stuck the paddles on.

“Charging...
Stand clear. Fire,” the computer said.

The
girl's body jerked. “Nothin',” Fairfax said shaking his head.

“Patient
has no pulse,” the computer said.

“Well
try again!” The Gunny said urgently. “Don't you die on me soldier!” He ordered,
knowing it was futile.

“Fuck
me,” Lewis muttered savagely as she banged the crowbar into the crevice. She
heard something scuttling. “Ah ha,” she said. “Got a live one here,” she said
looking over her shoulder.

“Lewis
look out!”  Galloway said. She turned to see an arthropod come hissing out
of the crevice. It was black, with yellow tipped spines and long waving
antenna. Its head was broad and flat, its entire body shaped like a cobra but
with the flat overlapping scales of its kind.