Chapter 10
DAVE
“Hold your fire. Wait for my signal,” Kirilov’s whisper was inaudible except for the ear bud that amplified the sound inside Dave’s ear, making the order clear and loud enough. Dave felt a shiver running down his spine, but his finger on the trigger was remarkably steady. He blinked. The flicker in the corner of his vision was a nuisance, and though he mostly managed to ignore it, he was afraid it could hinder his aim. Once they got home, he would have to see if it could be fixed. Hasle might have some ideas.
The monsters moved slowly but steadily toward them, and Dave took aim at one of the larger ones. They looked like a mix of images he’d seen in children’s books, ancient beasts conceived to frighten kids. Most walked on their hind legs, while others used all fours. He even noticed one being carried by a larger one. Probably its mother. Even the baby monster looked fearsome, like it could devour a grown man.
He looked over at the others. Scott aiming at the center, Greer at the one on the far left, and Baldwin at the one furthest to the right. Scott would probably cut down half their number with the machine gun within seconds.
“Listen up.” Kirilov’s low voice inside his ear cut his thoughts off. “Once we open fire, they will spread out. So cover the flanks while Scott does the heavy lifting. Wagner, you pick off anyone trying to move closer. I don’t want any of them getting away, so once we’re done, we move out and finish them off up close. Remember, they will kill you if you show the slightest weakness. So be swift and ruthless. And whatever you do, do not remove your goggles.” A trickle of sweat reached the corner of Dave’s goggle, but he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the itch. He certainly wouldn’t contradict Kirilov’s orders.
“Everyone get ready…”
Dave saw one of the monsters stroking the back of a smaller one that seemed to have a hard time keeping up. The small one let out a yelp, and the larger growled in response.
“Fire!”
A deafening sound erupted, yelps and growls forgotten. Scott’s machine gun rattled, the bangs indistinguishable from each other. Dave hesitated for a moment, enough for him to lose his aim. Where was that beast he’d been aiming at. From the right flank, a series of bursts kicked in, decimating the monsters on Baldwin’s side. Dave still tried to find his aim, but gave up and fired wildly into the flock. The monsters fell, blood spattering all over as they tried to run for cover. But there was no cover to be had, and one after another they fell, writhing, screeching, yelping. It was slaughter.
“What the hell is this?” The shout from his left made him look up. Greer was half way standing, and Dave saw he had put his weapon down.
“What have you done to us? Why…” Greer screamed hysterically, until his chest erupted, and he fell to the ground, eyes and mouth wide open, goggles pushed up on top of his helmet like a second pair of eyes.
“Sniper!” he heard Kirilov shout, and he took aim again. The monsters were all down now, but he scanned the far side of the clearing, searching for the sniper.
“Damn it, why didn’t the rangers pick this up?” one of the seniors asked, before Kirilov cut him off.
“Shut up, Jan. You know the enemy sometimes trails the monsters. Everyone, we have to make sure they are all dead. Let’s move it. Seniors watch for the sniper; juniors watch the monsters.”
“What about Greer?” Scott said, and Kirilov sneered in response.
“He’s dead, and he brought it upon himself. Standing up like that… Now move!” The three remaining junior Wardens stood up, and walked toward the carnage, the seniors following a few steps behind.
“Shit,” Baldwin whispered. The silence was palpable, and only their breathing and a soft whisper of branches moving in the slight breeze broke the quiet.
“Remember, keep your goggles on at all times,” Kirilov spoke sternly. A movement in his peripheral vision made Dave flinch and half-turn, but it was just the irregular flicker.
“What is it, Wagner?” Kirilov asked.
“Nothing, Sir. Just something interfering with my goggles.”
“Hold it, let me see.” Kirilov walked up to him and put something, an electronic device Dave had never seen before, up in front of him.
“What do you see?” he asked. Dave hunched his shoulders.
“Nothing, just that box or whatever it is.” Kirilov seemed to relax and put the box away in his pocket.
“Good. Now, everyone, let’s get this done so we can go home.”
SUE
The first thing Sue noticed was the clean sheets. Then it was the white walls and the spotless coveralls on the nurses milling about. She remembered being captured by the northerners, so the cleanliness of this place surprised her. She had been taught the people beyond the border were dirty savages, and even the thought of them having something resembling a hospital was contrary to everything she’d envisioned of these people. For a moment, she believed she had been saved by a Janissary rescue squad and brought back to Camp Gustavson.
But the language spoken around her was neither English nor the strange words that some of the Moon people sometimes spoke among themselves. She instantly recognized the sounds, reminding her of her first time in combat. Of a woman taken prisoner. A woman she had shot.
Sue lifted her head, but a headache forced her down again.
“Careful, mademoiselle. You have lost much blood.” A man’s voice, in accented English. He bent over her, and she saw a man with features that could have belonged to a pure Moon blood if not for the words that came out of his mouth.
“You need rest, for now. Don’t worry… Atlas, is that it? Hmm, English then, am I correct?” Sue nodded carefully, wondering how he could know her name. A nurse came over and checked a machine standing by the bedside. She spoke a few words to the man and then walked off. Sue tried to raise her hand. Chained to the bed.
“We have to be careful. I’m sure you understand. We will talk more later. Now rest,” he said and turned his back on her. She coughed and tried to speak.
“Did any…”
The man turned back again.
“Please, mademoiselle. You shouldn’t speak.”
She strained to get the words out.
“Did anyone else survive?” she whispered. The man’s brow furrowed, and he took a step closer.
“I assume you ask of your own people, yes? The Janissaries.”
She mouthed a yes, soundlessly.
“Two more made it here. We lost one on the operating table.” Sue thought his eyes looked sad. Curious.
“The woman had lost too much blood. The man lives, though. The rest I’m afraid are dead. As are so many of our people,” he finished, about to turn away again.
“You know my name,” she said. “What is yours?” The man smiled at her.
“You should not worry about that, Mademoiselle Atlas.” He turned and walked away. As he stood by the doors, waiting for them to slide open, he turned to her again, seeming reluctant.
“I am only a doctor,” he said.
“Your… name…” Sue said, feeling herself sliding back into unconsciousness.
“Dr. Conrad Marsden,” the man said, his voice distant, as he disappeared before her eyes, along with the rest of the world.
DAVE
They began the grueling task of checking to see if any of the monsters were still alive. A shot rang out, and Dave saw Scott standing over one of the largest of the beasts. They kept walking.
A medium-sized monster further away was still alive and trying to drag itself away from them. Dave and one of the seniors hurried over, but when they reached the monster, it rolled over. A small sound, a whine, made Dave pause. He thought there was something behind the beast. Bang. The senior Warden, who should be watching for snipers, finished it off.
“Never hesitate. They can get to you,” she said. Dave looked at the monster again as it lay still. It was dead, all right.
But there it was again, a whimper, almost like a cat meowing. The larger one had been co
vering something. Dave walked around it and pushed with his boot at the dead form. It almost made him sick, although something, like a wall, made his emotions feel more distant than usual. He pushed again, and he saw a small claw sticking out.
“Oh, man,” he said. “It’s got a baby.” Dave took a step back. The senior cursed and kicked the larger form away.
“Oh crap,” the senior Warden said, before he fired a burst at the two forms. The mother and the child. Dave stood speechless, and the flicker inside his goggles intensified. He took another step back.
He was about to rip his goggles off, when Kirilov grabbed his hand hard.
“Don’t,” the older Warden said. Dave tried to object, but Kirilov cut him off.
“Just don’t. Or you will wish you hadn’t. Trust me.” Something in his voice made Dave comply. A shiver, or was it something Dave imagined?
“Let’s move out, Wardens. Time to go home,” Kirilov said, and everyone followed, eager to get away from it all. Dave hesitated, before he followed like the others.
Dave wondered why nobody was watching for the sniper, but then again, the senior Wardens seemed to know their way around, so it was probably safe. Snipers probably left as soon as they had fired their deadly shots, anyway. That had to be it.
“Just through the trees, and the airship will come pick us up,” Kirilov said. Dave looked forward to getting on the airship. He hoped he would never have to go out like this again. This was ranger business, and he was more convinced than ever that Tech was right for him. If he got a chance, he would find a way to fix the goggles, though.
They passed Greer’s body, and Dave was about to stop, when Kirilov slapped his back.
“Care for the living, Wagner. He’s dead, and now he will return to the Earth that birthed him.” Dave looked at the senior Warden, noticing he had a firm grip on his rifle. Determination. He knew the Moon people had notions about death that they never spoke of. While the English were left to rot, anyone of the Moon blood who fell on the battlefield would be taken back. The rumors said their ashes would be sent back to their home world, from where their people had come. Probably just rumors.
Dave glanced back at Greer once more. He lay so still, and there was almost no blood around the small hole in his back. It was almost as if he was asleep, except for the pool of blood he laid in. Dave walked hesitantly along with the others. Something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger to what it was.
He still felt as though his mind worked just fine after his brief disorientation.
It wasn’t until he sat safely on the airship, on his way back from the slaughter, that he realized how wrong he had been. The realization made him sweat, as he looked around at the others, aware, for the first time, of how wrong everything was.
Greer’s chest had exploded.
The exit wound was in his chest.
He had been shot from behind.
His final words, What have you done to us?
He had been shot because of those words.