Gamma Nine (Book One) (49 page)

A behemoth
covered in bone spikes leapt out of the top floor of the building,
its weight and strength carrying it high and far enough to latch
onto the bottom of the enemy fighter.

At first the
pilot of the black-hulled fighter did not know what had happened,
but behind his flight helmet realization dawned on him as his
fighter started to tip and fall away. The behemoth was too heavy as
it started tearing into the fighter’s vital belly, ripping chunks
of light armour off with its mutated bare hands. The pilot lost all
power to his fighter, falling lower and faster towards the ground.
Together they plummeted until they hit the surface, both traitor
and monster vaporized in a ball of plasma flame from the fighter’s
ruptured power source.

Jay felt the
building underneath him vibrate, its structure warping from the
plasma explosion at its base.

Lancers and
some beasts lost their footing, giving the beasts the opportunity
to close in on the humans that they wished to gorge themselves
on.

A Lancer,
closest to where the monsters were pouring out of, died in the most
horrible way. Two large, muscled creatures tore his body in half,
ceasing their attack to feast on the poor man’s remains.

The Lancers and
Corporal Jay were on the back foot, stepping backwards slowly to
the edge of the building, firing into the monsters encircling them.
The heavy machine gun was down, its operators falling back as soon
as the monstrous tide was too much to hold back.

A Lancer named
Diaz threw a Hellfire grenade at the feet of the advancing horde.
It exploded in a bright orange light; flame erupting from it
compressed body.

Fire spread out
in front of the horde, the sticky liquid inside the Hellfire
grenade melting into flesh and concrete. The flames spread out far
enough to give Jay and his companions a few moments to breath. One
monster dared to leap over the flames, but it had misjudged the
fire’s ferocity, burning as it leapt, dying before its mutated feet
reached the concrete on the other side of the flames.

Bright lights
hit the horde, blinding them, emanating from a source behind the
humans trapped on the roof of the crumbling building.

Jay turned to
see a fat drop ship hovering at the lip of the building’s roof,
flanked by two fighters in colours Jay instantly recognized.

“Looks like we
are getting out of here after all boys!” Jay cheered. The Lancers
kept firing but they were just as relieved as the Scout Titan
was.

The pilot of
Brimstone’s Embrace spoke over the loud speaker attached to the
hull of his ship. “Hurry! Extraction Protocol Zeta is in effect,
sir.”

“Lancers, go!”
Jay yelled to his companions.

One by one the
Lancers leapt from the edge of the building into the open cargo
doors of the drop ship. Jay was the last to leave the roof of the
doomed building. His jump from the edge into the drop ship was the
signal for the Flying Tigers to open fire on the horde still
trapped behind the barrier of flame.

Jay almost lost
his balance as he hit the decking of the drop ship, but Lancer Diaz
reached for him, steadying him before Godwaker in his right hand
dragged the Scout Titan out of the open cargo doors. Godwaker’s
weight would have made for a very short and painful drop.

The Flying
Tigers killed droves of monsters, their guns reaping everything
that moved on the roof. Even Brimstone’s Embrace opened fire with
its mounted weapons, and together the three ships killed, making
the beasts pay for the lives they had taken.

When the fire
stopped only the flames were still alive, feasting on the oxygen
and mutated flesh in close proximity, nothing else moved on the
roof.

Brimstone’s
Embrace tilted and spun on its axis, its engines firing to propel
it forward towards the extraction point. The Flying Tigers flanked
the drop ship, keeping it safe as it hurried to help extract the
Wolves and all of their companions.

The package and
five of his Lancer guards had leapt from the building. Six
survivors, that was neither good nor bad, just one more thing the
survivors would have to deal with when the time came to leave New
Horizon.

Jay gripped
Godwaker on his lap tighter, looking down at it as the drop ship
avoided ground fire from a squad of traitors taking cover on a
roof. Jay smiled to himself. At least Rivers would not kill him for
losing his precious weapon.

Godwaker would
howl again, hopefully.

The beasts
attacked from three different directions. They came from the east,
west and south. Thankfully the north buildings had collapsed due to
some unknown previous battle that Locke and his companions had not
witnessed, and would require earth-moving equipment to clear the
giant piles of debris and metal sub structures.

Gunners inside
the remaining troop carriers fired their high calibre guns without
stopping. Two of the weapons mounted on their hulls had already
been reduced to useless junk; the constant firing had melted
barrels and seized firing mechanisms.

There was no
end to the creatures assaulting the extraction zone, breaking like
a wave against the firepower of the defenders.

The Titans
stood firm, firing their own and borrowed weapons into the horde.
The Lancers fired from crouched or kneeling positions in front of
the Titans, Sabian’s trained discipline showing as the Lancers
fired and reloaded with relative ease. Even though their hands were
tired, their limbs numb, and their minds heavy, they still fought
one. What was most remarkable was that the Lancers did so without
any kind of enhancements, they had no advanced suit of armour, no
Nano machines to repair tissue or muscle damage, and no combat
drugs burning through their veins, but still they fought on,
without rest, without breaking.

They were the
true heroes, even though the Titans were the stronger and better
fighters, the Lancers were the unsung heroes of the entire New
Horizon battle. They fought and died for the inhabitants of Santor,
never hesitating for a second to lay down their own lives at the
cost of their own. They followed every order to the letter, and
never once were they insubordinate.

Locke’s
thoughts drifted as his body’s muscle memory took over,
automatically firing his rifle as he killed monster after monster.
He heard no sound beyond the sound of gunfire, an almost hypnotic
chorus of firing mechanisms hitting unexploded bullets and the rush
of flame that launched the deadly piece of lead at the enemies.

His thoughts
dwindled on Sabian and his Lancers, how the man had created such
soldiers in only a few years. The Lancer name was not even a decade
old, but already their success on the battlefield and their heroic
actions were worthy of the legends the Titans were part of. Locke’s
final thought before his focus returned to the current situation
was that he would have to take over command of the Lancers, and
somehow repay them for their courage. Sabian would either not
survive, or be unable to command his men ever again. Locke would
honour his men, and honour the work he had done.

A voice over
the radio snapped all of Locke’s consciousness back to the
moment.

It was a pilot
from one of the drop ships above their position. “First extraction
is ready, touchdown in three seconds, sir.”

Locke
acknowledged the pilots words, switching channel to speak to the
Lancers and his Wolves. “Sabian and the civilians first!” he
ordered.

The drop ship
named the White Knife came down right on top of the extraction
zone, falling like a meteor towards the ground. Less than fifty
feet above the concrete surface of the courtyard the pilot of the
White Knife hit his glide thrusters, pulling the nose of the drop
ship up sharply. The manoeuvre looked almost beautiful, like a bird
diving towards a pond to catch the little insects living just above
the water. It kicked up clouds of dust, but the pilot executed his
daring manoeuvre perfectly, hovering only inches from the ground.
Extraction Plan Zeta called for it, there was not time for landing
and then loading, it all had to be done to allow the drop ship to
instantly take off when all of the cargo was on-board.

“Go, go!” Locke
yelled. He was still firing at the monsters closing in on the
defenders, but the fire from the troop carriers was enough to keep
the beasts at bay while the first ship was loaded.

In less than a
minute, Sabian and all of the civilians, including Sabian’s
personal medic, was on-board the White Knife, ready to leave
Santor.

The pilot of
the White Knife did not wait for a command to leave, pulling back
on his flight stick, tilting the nose of the drop ship towards the
sky. The engines flared red and the White Knife was propelled
upwards towards the heavens.

As soon as the
White Knife was clear, a second drop ship was already diving for
the surface. It was Sabian’s drop ship, named after his home
planet, Mercurial Dawn. It performed the same manoeuvre the White
Knife had, diving at break neck speeds for the ground, pulling up
suddenly to hover just above the dust covered courtyard.

“Lancers! Go!”
Locke ordered.

The Lancers
crouched in front of the line turned and ran for the drop ship,
covering their own as they fell back. One by one they boarded the
Mercurial Dawn.

All of the
Lancers save for the ones still in the troop carriers were
on-board. Locke had at least kept part of his promise to
Sabian.

Gunn was next
to dive, falling even faster than the others, hitting her glide
thrusters even closer to the surface. She was not trying to show
off, but only minimize the time it took her to get into
position.

“Our ride is
here Wolves. Fall back!” Locke yelled at his wolves.

They turned one
by one, running and jumping into the open cargo hold of the Maiden.
Each of them turned and kept firing as the Maiden remained
hovering, covering each other as they fell back.

Locke was the
last to get on-board. “Gunners, the next ride is yours,” he said
over the radio to the men still inside the troop carriers.

“Negative.
There is no time, sir. It is too risky. We will stay,” a Lancer
said from within one of the troop carriers. In the background the
voices of the Lancer’s squad could be heard agreeing with the
decision to stay.

“Thank you.
Good luck to you,” Locke said.

“We don’t need
luck anymore, sir. But more bullets would have been nice.” The
Lancer chuckled before cutting the link, the fire never stopped
during their short conversation.

Gunn lifted off
as the Titans fired down at the horde of monsters. They were now
closing in on the troop carriers, slowly gaining ground because the
firepower from the Lancers and the Wolves were not there to help
anymore. Soon they would overwhelm the vehicles and feast on the
human flesh inside. Luckily no-one would be around to see the
Lancers gruesome demise, and that was at least an honourable way to
die - to not let others hear you scream before you were torn to
shreds.

“Get to the
roof Corporal Quinn, we are heading your way,” Locke said to his
Titan still on the ground.

Christian heard
the captain’s order and acknowledged it with a word. He picked up
Tristan and led the way up towards the roof of the west building,
careful not to make too much noise to alert the beasts scurrying
about on the lower floors.

It was almost
over, and they were almost safe - almost.

Christian
scanned the stairs above him, listening for any movement from the
darkness. The staircase was gloomy and almost too quiet. There were
no windows to light up the staircase, it was nothing more than a
concrete shaft filled with stone stairs leading ever upwards. He
could hear nothing from above or below, only the footsteps Jessica,
Sam and Nash were making as they ascended the steps slowly. He had
to be cautious, in these confined spaces if the monsters attacked
them it would be a difficult task to protect everyone with him.

He could hear
the Maiden’s engines with their characteristic whining slowly
circling the roof he was leading everyone to. Gunn had to circle,
hovering for too long in one place would draw the beasts’ attention
from within and from without the buildings, and that would just
complicate the final pickup. It would probably cost Christian and
the people with him their lives.

Christian froze
in place, his head tilting to the right, listening to something
that troubled him, but he would not dare show it. If he did they
would panic, and then things would just turn to shit, fast. The
troop carriers had stopped firing, their engines could still be
heard revving, but there was no more loud booms from their heavy
calibre machine guns echoing from the courtyard.

The others had
probably heard it as well, but the weariness aching in their limbs
blocked them from dwelling on why the sound of gunfire had
ceased.

Christian
continued his climb, taking the steps a little quicker now that
they were almost to the roof. In his arms Tristan’s breath was
shallow, but the girl was wide awake, her eyes were trying to
pierce the gloom to help Christian see in the darkness. It was a
futile effort but Christian appreciated it none the less.

He froze again,
and so did everyone else behind him. An extra pair of footsteps
could be heard just above the group. It sounded human, the steps
falling slower, the distinct animalistic snorting and smelling only
the keenest ears could pick up as the thing above them searched for
prey. Its footfalls were heavy, coming ever closer. Christian’s
switched his visor to prey sight with a whisper, eye-watering red
filled his vision. It took only a moment, but his advanced systems
saw the creature move above them, penetrating through the stone
stairs with relative ease, highlighting the threat.