Battle Earth IX (2 page)

"No time for buggering about, Private. There's a war to fight, and you're slap bang in the middle of it. Now fall in and get to work."

He nodded in response and appeared to right his back, holding himself a little taller and with some pride. Jones could see he had just witnessed the horrors of war he himself had grown all too familiar with, and all he needed were some friends at his side.

"You gonna fall in, Private?" Jones asked.

Confidence returned to his eyes, and he stepped past Jones to take up position with the Sergeant. He looked back to see Silva pointing at his watch.

"How far are we from the bridge?" Jones asked Lang.

"Not far."

That's a big help,
he thought, as he pointed for the Sergeant to go on. They carried on cautiously up the last few steps. The sound of the gunfire grew louder.

"It's Taylor, has to be," he muttered.

"Taylor? You're Taylor," replied Lang.

Busted!

"No, I'm not Taylor. The name’s Jones, but as far as you're concerned, I might as well be Taylor, who is in there right now and needs our help, you got that?"

He agreed without any hesitation, seeing the unforgiving look in Jones' eyes. Jones didn't need a guide anymore, for he just had to follow the sound of gunfire. He took the last few steps and got out into the corridor. Just as he did, two Mechs rushed into view at a junction up ahead. He fired a snap shot before they disappeared from view. It hit a creature, forcing it to stop and turn quickly to face him, but in doing so presented a perfect target.

Jones quickly raised the weapon for a better aim and fired a burst. Fuchs and Silva quickly joined his side. The creature got off just a single shot that hit the ceiling before it collapsed as a smouldering pile of metal on the deck. The second Mech turned the corner to come back at them, and Jones barely got his shield up in time to take one of the hits and step aside for cover with the others.

Without a word, he pulled a grenade from his waist and armed it. As he launched it, the creature paced out to get them in its sights. Jones dropped to one knee and took shelter behind his shield. It took three shots before the grenade ignited between the feet of the Mech. Chunks of metal were launched across the room, and two large shards of shrapnel impeded in his shield which was now already buckled and weakened in several places.

Silva was up and past before he was on his feet, rushing for the sound of the battle going on just around the corner. As he reached the site of the grenade blast, he opened fire on full auto. Jones took the bend to find seven Mechs with their backs to them, trying to get their way through the open door of the bridge.

Fuchs, Lang and, six others joined them in what felt more like a firing squad. The nine of them held down their triggers until all magazines were empty, and all that remained before them was a heap of metal. Blue blood poured out across the deck from dozens of penetrations of the armoured suits. Jones knew there was someone still alive aboard the bridge; he only hoped it was more than a few. There was utter silence now. Not a cry of pain or a gunshot to be heard.

"Taylor!" Jones shouted.

No response came.

"Colonel Taylor!" he called again.

The worry was starting to really set in as he paced forward towards the door. He took each step more cautiously than the last. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what lay beyond the entrance.

"Jones?" a voice returned.

It was growly and dry. Jones got to the door with his rifle held ready to fire at a moment's notice. There were a number of figures moving, and all of them his comrades. He took a deep breath, lowered his weapon, and stepped firmly through the entrance.

"Jones? You made it."

He looked to see the coarse voice was indeed Taylor. He was sitting propped up against a back wall. His nose was broken, and a deep cut ran from his eyebrow down over his top lip. Most of the survivors around him were wounded in some way, and many others lay dead around them.

"Some rescue attempt, hey?" asked Taylor.

"We're alive, aren't we?"

Taylor looked around at the devastation around them. He was glad to see his closest friends had made it, but so many more of his comrades had not.

"So what's our situation, Mitch?"

"Shit."

Taylor staggered to his feet, noting Jones was still awaiting a proper answer.

"Honestly? Somewhere in the Atlantic, beyond that I have no clue."

"We still on the surface?"

Taylor shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

He turned to the remaining crewmembers.

"Well?"

The pilot stuttered.

"Simple answer!" Jones said.

"In theory, if all breaches were sealed, I guess we could float. But with the damage we took before and during impact, I can't imagine we're too airtight."

"So what are you saying?"

"That we're taking on water," Taylor replied.

"How long do we have?" asked Jones.

The pilot shrugged.

"I suggest we make a move fast. At the bottom of the ocean bed ain't how I saw myself ending," stated Spears.

Rains stepped out from the back of the line and appeared remarkably unscathed by the fighting or crash landing. Taylor looked at him astonished.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Keeping my head from being blown off. I rather like it where it is."

Taylor couldn't disagree. He looked around to see a motley group, many of which who were at each other's throats just an hour before, but now all looked to him for answers.

"All right, right now we're as deep into this heap of junk as we can be. We need to stick together and get the hell off this thing before it drags us to hell. I need a volunteer who is best suited to guiding us to the surface."

Nobody responded, and he wasn't surprised. It was a lot of responsibility to place on one soul. He looked around for the best person for the job until he finally stopped at Sergeant Lang. He was firmly stuck to Jones' side and eager to be led rather than have to face it all head on.

"Sergeant, you must know the ship better than most. You got point. Lead us out of here."

Lang looked horrified, but Taylor wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"The Nassau has fallen, Sergeant. The only task that remains is your duty to protect her crew. Will you do that?"

He reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"Yes...yes, Sir."

"All right, we take the wounded with us. I'll be up front with the Sergeant here. Jones you bring up the rear, and let's get moving."

A dozen casualties who were still breathing were hauled onto their feet. Taylor knew they would slow the pace substantially, but he could not bring himself to do otherwise. He grabbed a few magazines from one of their own dead at the door and stuffed them into his pouches before slamming one into the rifle. Lang stood next to him and looked down past the line of dead Mechs leading to the bridge. He was in a daze. Parker and Silver moved up to join them.

"Lang, you're leading us, but you stay two paces behind me the whole way, you hear? We can't afford to lose our guide, you got that?"

Taylor could see the relief in Lang's eyes at the realisation he wasn't going to have to go first. He looked back to see the line was now ready to move. Jafar carried one of the wounded on his shoulder with ease while still holding his rifle at the ready. He turned back to Lang.

"You ready?"

A scream echoed from several corridors away, sending a shiver down the Sergeant's back, but he nodded in agreement.

"Okay, let's move out, quick as we can."

He stepped out first.

"You're gonna have to speak up, Sergeant. Guide me."

"Uhhh..."

"Don't think. You know this ship. Walk it like you would any other day of the week."

"Keep going till we reach a flight of stairs directly ahead."

"That's it," he muttered, picking up the pace. Another scream rang out which was much closer now, and they realised they were heading right for the source of it. The stairs were in sight, but as they reached them, a Mech tumbled down and landed at the base. Taylor lifted his rifle to fire at the creature that was flailing to get up. But before he could pull the trigger, a grenade tumbled down the stairs and ignited on the creature. He raised his shield just in time as the blast sent shrapnel flying towards them. He looked up. The metal grid stairs were partly collapsed and now blocked.

"For Christ’s sake, can nothing go our way?" he said to himself.

"It's okay. Follow me," replied Lang.

He rushed out to Taylor's left and got up pace down another corridor.

"Back!" he screamed.

Taylor rushed on after him, but he would not slow down. The Colonel looked back. The column could not match their pace with all the wounded. He rushed forward to stop the marine, reaching him at a bend where he had stopped for a moment. Taylor got a firm grasp on his backplate and yanked him back. As he did so, a shot ricocheted off the wall where he had been a second before. Taylor threw the Sergeant behind him as the others got to them. He peaked out around the corner, trying to locate the shooter. The sight of a Mech soldier rapidly advancing towards him at just ten metres away shocked him. Mitch ducked back as more shots landed beside him.

"Right, you son of a bitch," he whispered.

He could hear the steps now. Lang didn't know what to do and couldn't believe Taylor simply waited for the creature to close in on them. Mitch took in a deep breath, and in the last few steps as the Mech got to them, he spun out from the corner and smashed his shield up into the Mech's weapon, driving it high. As the creature’s rifle fired into the ceiling, he drove his gun into its stomach and fired on full auto.

The Mech spasmed, its abdomen riddled with bullets. Finally, it went limp. Taylor tossed the body back onto the deck in disgust to reveal the barrel of his rifle that was now drenched in blood. He looked back to Lang who was still speechless.

"You give directions, and I lead. You stay behind me, you hear?"

He nodded and pointed for them to go the way the creature had come from.

"Let's move."

They got ten metres when an explosion rang out not far from their position. Taylor stopped immediately, waiting and listening for anything else. But a moment later, he could hear the sound of running water.

"Oh, shit," he murmured.

His worst fear had come true.

"We're going down, and fast."

 
Water gushed around a corner up ahead and almost immediately covered their boots. He thought about asking Lang for other options on how to get out, for just a split second, but he knew such indecision could end them as quickly as making the wrong one.

"Keep moving!" he boomed.

He could feel the weight of the water pushing against his feet, and his already exhausted legs were feeling like lead weights trying to drag him down. He struggled on, telling himself he wasn't willing to die down there. As a marine, he knew the situation could occur, and that he might go down with a ship, but he never really thought for one moment it would ever be a possibility.

"Left, left here!"

Taylor followed Lang, took the bend, and found a Mech facing the way they were heading. He didn't even hesitate to fire a burst into its back without breaking stride. The Mech's body splashed into the water as he passed by.

"How many of those fuckers did you have aboard?" Silva asked.

Lang didn't respond. He was clearly feeling more than a little sheepish that he'd been a part of it all. They reached a stairway, and water was already flowing down at quite a rate.

"How do we even know we're still on the surface?"

Taylor didn't reply to Parker’s question; he had no good answer. Instead, he leapt onto the stairs and stormed up them. He made it up two flights before looking back to Lang.