Colony Lost Page 35

  Anna’s voice dropped as the ringing in her ears did the same. The pain in her leg grew.

  “Shit. Shit-shit.” Someone get Vindicator One on the horn. We need help.”

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  The ruins of Stahl, planet of Selva

  23 December 163 GA

  “This is not a good idea.”

  Steve ran beside Dustin through the thick jungle undergrowth toward Stahl. The flora of the planet had burst into biological overdrive the past few days, doubling or tripling in size. Leaves had sprung from the size of a hand to the size of a queen bed, while bushes had exploded with crops of colorful berries. Some plants had grown iridescent, bloated pitchers filled with water to catch tiny wandering bugs, and the marines had spotted several small animals that resembled reptiles slithering through the dark spaces.

  Selva’s seasons changed.

  “No one asked for your opinion, Ping-Pong. Let’s get it done.”

  Dustin shut the flap on a belt pouch.. He’d just finished covering his black body armor with the slick substance they’d harvested fresh from the trees that morning. The pouch had a half-full jar and he didn’t want to lose it as they ran.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Steve replied as they crossed the threshold into the blasted space between the jungle and Stahl. Sprouts of green dotted the black and gray where Selva fought back against the human-wrought carnage. The humans who came here might not heal, but the planet would. Worlds always did when humans left them be.

  “The tank is ready to go. We drive it to the medical habitat, load it up and make a run back to the tree. They’re prepared to leave, and they’re safe. I’m telling you, the bugs are petrified of us, we’ll be fine.”

  “I’m with you,” Steve said.

  They moved at a careful, controlled pace past the defensive perimeter of the colony and into the spaces between its abandoned structures. Tall grasses grew on all sides of the buildings, obscuring the blast marks from grenades and bullet holes. Those scars were reminders of lost friends, and mistakes made. Dustin had removed the dead bodies over the past week, bringing them to a flat field outside of the colony and burying them with what dignity he could afford. Stahl felt less like a graveyard, though the memories clung as tenaciously as the blood stains.

  The marines watched as the tiny crawling monsters darted between buildings, keeping their distance but watching the humans prowling in their midst. Far behind them, hidden away in the shadows of the new evening, were the spitting monsters, and their wide-bodied punching enforcers. They were either too afraid or too wise to come anywhere near the two marines, preferring to let their disposable, tiny minions do the dirty work and take the fall.

  “You remember how to operate an Armadillo?”

  “Uhhhm. Yeah. I do. It might take me a minute to find all the controls, but I think I’m good. You provide cover and I’ll drive?”

  “Yeah. The space between the two habitats is probably covered with the bastards, so we’ll need to move slow, and do some fighting if they don’t clear out. I’m not sure what the locals will do when the marines are in the open. You’ll have to park close.”

  “I’ll get it done,” Steve said.

  “I know.”

  They pressed forward towards the squat, slope-sided box atop the tank treads that was the Armadillo. As they rounded a corner just a few meters from where the Armadillo rested, a knee-deep carpet of the tiniest mutant monsters turned and hissed at them. The chorus buzzed, and raised the tiny hairs on the back of Dustin’s neck. He triggered the loudspeaker inside his helmet.

  “RAAAAAAAR!”

  The army of bugs scattered, their will to fight evaporated.. One final brave monster stood atop the Armadillo, four arms raised in defiance. Steve fired a rail gun round into it, exploding its defiant arms in every direction. Several legs flew up into the air, then landed on the tank’s top with a pathetic clinking noise.

  “Really?”

  “I needed that. For morale purposes.”

  “Ha. Fine. Get in. I’ll be the bogeyman out here.”

  Dustin scanned the rooftops as Steve slipped into the tank. Steve deciphered the controls, and the engine came to life with an electric growl. Seconds later the twin crimson headlamps switched on, and the infrared emitters flashed awake. Dustin adjusted his optics and the hazy light of dusk flashed into perfect, crisp greens of night vision. The treads of the Armadillo crept forward minutely, then kicked into full power. The boxy vehicle spun in place, ripping the dirt up and coming to a rest facing Dustin.

  “I’m good. Lead on, leader,” Ping-Pong said from inside the tank.

  Dustin turned and started to walk toward the closer of the two refuges–the medical facility. He kept five meters in front of the tank with his weapon out and at the ready, using the infrared lamps to see the world. He watched as the tiny monsters ran about, flitting from shadow to shadow.

  Dustin walked cautiously, but without fear. He slowed when he felt a faint rumble in the ground. They weren’t far from the medical facility–a dozen meters at most.

  “All stop, Ping-Pong. Let me see what that noise is. Get ready to fire up the heavy machine gun if you see me running. Short bursts. We don’t have much twelve-seven left.”

  “Spray and pray, you got it. I’ll pop the hatch.”

  The tank jerked to a halt.

  Dustin walked forward, his weapon aimed at the gap between the medical building and the storage unit beside it. Beyond was the ruined tunnel to the science unit. He saw a hole big enough for a pair of men to drop into smashed into the steel and wood passage. Hundreds of the small skitterers, and a handful of the rock bugs, swarmed through the tunnel and the surrounding surface.

  With massive blunt fists, the rock bugs plowed earth up and away from the depths of the pit to the waiting mouths of their smaller cousins. A more mutated group of skitterers–larger, stronger, miniature versions of the slavers–scooped up all they could and hurriedly carried it away to a series of earthen piles that served as blockades, or ramparts, between the human buildings. Deep below, they had built new tunnels and passages like those in an ant colony. The passages, wide enough for a man, spread out in all directions below the ruins of Stahl. The insects were making a new home.

  The monsters stopped their work, snapped up their heads, and froze. Dustin had caught them unaware. The horde of smaller insects poured up and out of the hole, fleeing as fast as they could, climbing up and over each other and the larger bugs to escape. They shoved competition out of their way, attacking at anything that presented any delay. Deep in their simple minds the creatures knew Dustin represented the end of life.

  But the larger rock bugs shuffled toward him, rearing up and readying their fists. He backpedaled. His protective covering would eat through their shell and kill them, undoubtedly, but one punch from them would cave in his body. It would be meager revenge for Dustin if they were to die after killing him.

  “Steve, get that heavy up, I’ve got issues.”

  Just as Dustin turned and bolted, the first of the rock bugs hit the flat ground, picked up speed - and launched at him.

  Dustin dove forward, propelled by the slightly lower gravity of Selva and his suit’s enhanced musculature. He dodged the creature’s massive spring-loaded arm and heard an incredibly loud crack. The whoosh of air flung him even further into the open road. He landed on his side and rolled away, smashing several glass jars of fungus on the ground and all over his body. The monster continued, uncaring or unknowing of the death it would experience after killing Dustin.

  CHUNG CHUNG CHUNG, went the heavy machine gun on the tank. The shots smashed into the hard, stony shell of the monster, eviscerating it, and tossing it down the road as if it were wet garbage in the wind.

  “Yeah!” Dustin exalted.

  “I said I’d get it done,” a monotone Steve said from atop the tank.

  “I know. There are more-”

  Dustin was cut off as Steve angled the heavy machine gun and let rip another burst.
They tore through yet another monster, tearing it apart as well as the storage unit behind it. Dustin watched as the bug’s tattered remains crumpled into a messy heap. A third rock bug stopped on the tail of its massacred companion and hesitated. After a moment, it shuffled backwards, and fled. Ping-Pong tried to get the angle on the escaping threat but couldn’t get a clear line of fire.

  “Nice. So much for spray and pray.”

  Where the green slime in Dustin’s jars met the viscera of the rock bugs, the trailing streaks of spore-smoke rose, and the rapid organic growth had begun.

  “Yeah I guess training kicked in. Short, controlled bursts only,” Ping-Pong said, almost apologizing.

  “Thanks,” Dustin said as he got to his feet. “Those things are game-over if they hit one of us.”

  “Don’t I know it. One of them fell on me and fucked me up for weeks. My leg still gets sore when it rains,” Ping-Pong said.

  “Let’s go get these marines. I think we scared everything away with that. Timing is perfect.”

  “Hey Sarge, just so you know, we’re almost outta ammo on the heavy. We got maybe twenty rounds in the bucket up here. Few more bursts and we’re dry.”

  “Alright. Fuck. We’ll figure it out. Cover me. I’m gonna get them ready.”

  On top of the tank Steve spun the pintle turret around to face the medical hab. Using his helmet’s augmented vision, he scanned the dark world for any more threats as Dustin approached the door. Dustin tapped on an exterior electronics panel, and contacted the people inside.

  “Honey, I’m home,” Dustin said into the speaker.

  “Vindicator One? It’s Phillip. Real glad to hear your voice.”

  “Happy to be here, Weatherman.”

  “Are you two okay? That heavy machine gun scared the shit out of us.”

  “We are fine, but the storage unit beside the hab here has been perforated something fierce. I’m glad we emptied it. Are you guys ready to move? Can we do this in one trip?”

  There was a pause, then Anna’s voice came on. “Sergeant, thank you, it’s Captain Castellano. We can manage this in two trips. We need to move the emergency equipment out plus people.”

  “That’s fine and well, but we have no way to get the stuff up to the top of the tree, Captain. I suggest people first, and we’ll figure the gear out later.”

  “Half and half. Supplies and most of the people, then the rest of the people and stuff,” she said.

  “Yes ma’am. Is the first group of people ready? The Armadillo is at your door.”

  “We’ll come out in less than a minute.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant. Start making a plan to exfil the scientists and the marines in the other building,” she added.

  “Everybody is always in a rush. Let’s work this problem first, Captain. I’ll deal with that once we’re past this. Their hab is safe and sound for the time being, and we need to secure the medical gear.”

  As promised, less than a minute later the airlock door to the hospital unit opened, and the first group exited. They loaded in an orderly fashion, and the Armadillo left Stahl with Dustin walking beside it. None of Stahl’s monsters came close as the tank left.

  But deep in the plains, what once was Theo Wendell heard the echoes of the gunfire, and wondered what was happening where he had died, and was reborn.

  He decided he needed to know.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Atop a mushroom tower, Dampier Peninsula forest, planet of Selva

  26 December 163 GA

  The monsters descended into their hole in the ground of Stahl like a whirlpool in the vast ocean. As the lights in the night sky faded more, the creature’s behavior became desperate, and focused on finding some kind of shelter. The monsters knew crushing darkness in the sky meant a great change came, and they tried to hide from it.

  Dustin and Steve made a trip to the medical habitat the following day to retrieve Doctor Castellano, the remaining personnel, and the basic medical equipment needed to maintain the health of Selva’s survivors. They rode back to the forest packed in the rear troop compartment of the Armadillo, escorted by Dustin on foot.

  The science habitat and its frightened occupants had to wait until the medical refugees were safe atop the tree. While they waited–cramped, hot, and afraid–Steve kept his rifle’s scope pointed at their sanctuary and the small visible bit of space beyond, where the fever-stricken bugs chewed away at the ground. Most of what the insects did was obscured by other buildings, but he kept his vigil, and when he had to rest, another marine at the top of the tree took up the mantle.

  The marines engineered a simple pulley that operated using the Armadillo as counter weight and engine. Multiple lengths of linked rope and cable secured to a tow hook on the heavy tank ran to a primitive system built on the top and side of the tree. The end of the rope had a wooden platform attached and when the tank drove away, the platform ascended. Within a day’s time, the cobbled-together lift system had ferried all the survivors and equipment to the top of the tree. Over time and given safety, they’d build something more permanent, but for the moment, they celebrated their survival.

  The remaining few who were Christians celebrated Christmas Day, and were thankful to their God for yet another opportunity to survive and serve. That they survived because of a tree, with a fire burning at its very pinnacle, wasn’t lost to them.

  When dawn arrived the next day, Dustin woke and relieved the marine who had covered the holiday’s night shift. A Buddhist, she had happily taken the opportunity to find a bit of solitude in the warm winds of the Selvan night. The infantry rifleman lay on her stomach with the spotter’s optics in front of her and the communication system within arm’s reach.

  “Quiet night?”

  “Mostly,” she replied, wiping sleep from her eyes. “A few of the big ones with the stone skin just started moving toward the science habitat. I can’t see what they’re up to, but that’s something different.”

  “Good to know. I’m glad you were able to take a break and relax. Appreciate your vigilance. Get something to eat, and grab a few hours of shut-eye.”

  “Thank you. I will,” she said. “Have a good day, Sir.”

  Dustin bent over and put his rifle on the tree’s worn floor, propped up by its bipod. He placed his canteen and waterproof paper notebook down and rested a pair of foil food pouches. Using his binoculars he looked out to the vast, still unnamed ocean that enveloped the world on all sides of the peninsula, save where it spawned off the flat mainland. Massive swells of motion breached the distant surface of the water as enormous aquatic creatures crested for air or food. The leviathans disappeared to the depths without revealing much of their shape or appearance. Gray shadow-veined clouds of dawn sailed overhead until they met the watery horizon below. The dark blue sea foamed like fresh whipped milk at the shore and if he concentrated, he could hear the waves rustling. The world stirred, half in a dream about its own splendor.

  Dustin dropped down beside his gear and took up his place behind his rifle. He checked off each and every visual cue on his memorized list, looking at all the things that should be where they should, and all the things that shouldn’t be, where they shouldn’t.

  A nervous voice called out from the tiny speaker on the side of the black laser communicator. Dustin grabbed the handset.

  “Hello, people on the tree?”

  “This is Vindicator One, go for the tree house.”

  “Dustin, this is Margaret. We have a very serious problem here. We need you.”

  Of course you do, my shift just started. “What’s the issue, Dr. Ford?”

  “Well, the uh-They’re moving around, under us, behind us. The whole habitat just shifted to the left a bit. Not much, but we’re gradually sinking into the ground, and we can hear them testing the bottom of the lab. Hitting it, looking for weak spots.”

  “Alright. I’ll get down there, and we’ll figure it out. Give us a little bit to get a group together.
”

  “Please hurry. They’re hitting the floor harder and harder. They’ll break the habitat open soon . . .”

  “My guys had to bust the bottom hatch,” Anna said behind Dustin. He rolled over and looked up at her. “The outer hatch had jammed, and I gave them permission to break the locks. That bottom door wouldn’t shut, and all that’s between them and the creatures trying to get in is that weaker inner door.”

  “Shit, Anna. One rock bug punch and they’re cracked open like a walnut.”

  “We need to get down there, right now,”

  “I know. Let me get a group of people to ride down in the tank. See if we can get eyes-on and do something about it.”

  “Hurry!”

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  The ruins of Stahl, planet of Selva

  26 December 163 GA

  Dustin scraped the open end of a glass jar against the thin coating of jelly on the trunk of the tree. A layer of the slaver-killing mucus sheared off into the container, filling it to a third and leaving the gray trunk exposed. The green material shimmered in the tiny ribbons of sunlight beaming down into the dark forest.

  “Just like that. Try not to scrape the tree underneath.”

  Phillip followed suit and filled his own jars as Steve and five marines did the same.

  “Get four jars each. Save one to coat yourself in and keep the rest as grenades. I’m glad we grabbed those blasting caps when we were in town. We can make at least a few of these blow up and create a bit of a radius effect. Make do, marines. Make do.”

  “Dusty, there isn’t much left. This tree is like, dry,” Steve said, holding up a half-full jar of the emerald colored substance.