Burden of Sisyphus (24 page)

           
“Don’t look at me for answers,” Yen said.
 
“She’s telling the truth.
 
I never saw anything like it.”

           
“This could be our culprit, Sir,” Ixibas said.
 
“It’s big enough to….”

           
He stopped in midsentence.
 
Though his face remained expressionless, the looks of disbelief on Yen and Vance’s faces told her what she needed to know.
 
She heard a wrenching sound behind her, as her spear was pulled free from the tough Seque hide.
 
Slowly, a dark shadow was cast over her.
 
She didn’t bother turning.
 
Instead, she locked eyes with her teammates, her eyes pleading for salvation, as they moved in apparent slow motion.

           
Vance and Yen raised their rifles to their shoulders and fired a volley into the second Seque.
 
The twelve-foot beast, straddling the corpse of its fallen comrade, was unfazed by the gunfire.
 
It clutched the spear tightly in its hands and drove it into Nova’s spine.

           
She staggered a few steps forward with the force of the blow.
 
The tip of the spear jutted three feet beyond her stomach, leaving the haft buried in her.
 
She tried to speak, but blood spilled from her lips, dribbling down her chin before falling to the ground.

           
Crouching, the Seque hid as much of itself as it could behind Nova’s lithe frame.
 
Yen and Vance held their fire for fear of hitting her.
 
Her eyes pleaded, begging an end to the pain, when the Seque slowly withdrew the spear until the tip was back in Nova’s abdomen.
 
She wretched a mixture of bile and blood onto the sidewalk.
      

           
“Ainj,” Vance said softly, “tell me you have a shot at it.”

           
“I….”

           
“Ainj,” he said sterner, “tell me you have a shot.”

           
“I don’t.”
 
His voice was thick with emotion.
 
“The son of a bitch has her in my way.”

           
“Listen to me closely.
 
I want you to shoot through her.”

           
“No,” he whispered into the radio.
 
“I can’t.”

           
“She’s already dead, Ainj.
 
Look at how she’s suffering.
 
Take the shot!”

           
“I can’t!” he screamed.

           
Nova’s legs felt like led.
 
She wanted to slump to the ground and feel the cool concrete on her face, but the Seque kept the spear taut.
 
Though her legs were becoming useless, the spear tip in her stomach kept her upright.

           
The Seque ignored the argument between her teammates and leaned close to Nova’s ear.
 
In a guttural voice, it muttered gibberish in her ear, as if trying to form unfamiliar words.
 
Backing away, it slid its hand down the shaft until it found the concealed button.

           
Though she already lost most of her blood and was near death, her screams erupted through the silent city, as one million volts poured through her body.
 
Her skin, not as resilient as the Seque’s, boiled away from the spear.
 
Cracking, it spouted jets of burning bile.
 
Her eyes rolled up in their sockets before they ruptured in the heat.
 
Her hair danced wildly before bursting into flame.

           
Three high-caliber rounds slammed into the Seque.
 
The first tore through Nova’s body, ending her suffering and catching the Seque’s shoulder.
 
Muscle and bone exploded from it, and the Seque dropped the spear and Nova’s body.
 
Its right arm hanging useless at its side, it looked up sympathetically, as the second round struck its left hip.

           
The Seque spun and collapsed to the ground.
 
With its good arm, it tried to push itself to a seated position, mewling like an injured pet.
 
The last round, fired through tear-filled eyes, caught the side of the Seque’s face.
 
Bone, muscle, and brain matter vaporized in fine, green mist that coated the alley wall.
 
It fell atop is brethren, finally dead.

           
Vance’s radio was alive with chatter, but he didn’t hear it.
 
Unable to pull his eyes from the charred, mutilated corpse of his teammate, he felt the weight of leadership pressing down on his chest.
 
Laboring for air, he fought the urge to vomit.

           
A dark, clawed hand settled on his shoulder, breaking him from his stupor.
 
“Halo’s calling,” Ixibas said.
 
“It sounds important.”
          

           
Vance activated his microphone, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
 
“Go ahead, Halo.”

           
“Michael,” Halo said, panic evident in her voice, “switch to thermals.”

           
“What am I looking for?”
 
He lowered his helmet visor.
 
Switching to thermals was as simple as pressing a button.
 
In the fading twilight, the city should’ve appeared in dark shades of blue, with most of the day’s heat expended.
 
Instead, the entire city glowed bright red.

           
“Please tell me those are our people,” he whispered.

           
“No.”
 
Halo’s voice shook.
 
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.
 
The whole city’s alive.
 
Whatever you did, the Seques are awake, and they’re everywhere.”

           
“Give me a way out of here now!”
 
He hurried back toward Dallis and Decker.
 
Since his communications were being broadcast to the entire force, he wasn’t surprised to see panic mirrored on their faces.

           
“You aren’t listening, Michael,” Halo said.
 
Though she was incapable of crying anymore, she sounded near tears.
 
“There’s no way out.
 
You’re already surrounded.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

           
Vance and the members of Fourth Platoon heard gunfire.
 
The radio was alive with voices talking rapidly and the background noise of heavy fighting and screams.
 
Vance tried to make sense of the shouts for help, but the overlapping noise left all his requests garbled.
 
As he tried to contact the other platoons, Decker and Dallis stood behind him, trying the same.

           
“First Platoon, this is Command,” Vance said.

           
“Anyone on this net,” Decker said, “this is Fourth Platoon.
 
Please respond.”

           
The radio crackled, but the words were hard to decipher and were broken by labored breathing and gunshots.

           
“This is First….”
 
A gunshot interrupted the transmission.

           
“We’ve been completely overrun.
 
They came out of nowhere.
 
Get the hell away from me….”

           
More gunshots followed, then nothing but silence.

           
“First Platoon, do you copy?” Dallis asked.
 
“Harkund, are you there?”

           
“Second and Third Platoons, please respond,” Vance said.

           
“This is Blythe,” a weak voice said, his words broken by sobs.
 
“Help me.
 
Please help me.
 
He tore off my leg the son of a bitch.
 
I’m bleeding.
 
Oh, Gods, I’m bleeding bad.”
 
His voice trailed off, followed by silence.

           
The radio signal remained active, as if he still pressed the transmit button.
 
All members of Vance’s group heard a low, rumbling growl in their headsets moments before the signal cut to static.

           
“Halo,” Vance said, “give me a full vital-signs listing for all platoons.”

           
“Michael, it’s….”

           
“Just do it, Aleiz,” he said angrily.

           
Data poured onto his visor, scrolling through a list of names by platoon.
 
Most were followed by a flat, red line, indicating cessation of heartbeat.
 
A few weak signals were still being recorded, but two of them flat-lined while he watched.
 
His team and Fourth Platoon showed the most activity, having lost only a few people so far.
 

           
His own heart rate looked like a seismograph during an earthquake.
 
Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself without success.
 
His heart still pounded in his chest.

           
Vance felt trapped.
 
He led his team into the heart of the city and allowed them to be surrounded.
 
Because of his bad decisions, over 100 soldiers were dead, and the beasts that killed them were coming his way.

           
“Sir,” Decker said softly, so no one else heard, “we’re in a bad place here.
 
I know things look grim, but we need to move.
 
If we stay put, we’re dead.”

           
Vance nodded solemnly.
 
“Get your men together, Decker, and get ready to move.
 
Once we start, I don’t intend to stop until we reach the outpost.”

           
Vance tried to exude confidence, as Decker gathered his men, but he didn’t feel it in his heart.
 
He was scared, not of dying but of letting so many under his command die while he watched.
 
Nova was dead, run through and burned alive.
 
How many more of his men would die before they escaped?

           
Decker worked hard to gather his soldiers, many of whom vacated the buildings they searched when the gunfire began.
 
Nearly a dozen were still inside, and the longer they waited for them to arrive, the worse their chances of survival were.
 
Even if they left immediately, Vance knew they had to cover twenty city blocks to reach the military outpost’s outer defenses.
 
It took a lot of firepower to bring down the two Seques they faced.
 
He didn’t know if they had a chance against a city full of them.

           
The Seques were a mystery.
 
Normally beasts of burden, they were peaceful by nature and difficult to anger.
 
They were also herbivores, with blunt teeth for grazing in fields.
 
As far as he knew, none of them possessed claws.

           
Something changed the Seques in the city, turning them into sinister creatures with insatiable bloodlust.
 
He remembered how one of them hid behind Nova to use her as a shield.
 
Not only had they become dangerous, someone or something gave them intelligence.

           
“My men are all accounted for,” Decker said over the radio.
 
“We’re ready to move.”