To Ride a Brumak
Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang.
Hearing was first to punch its way through the wide veil of enveloping darkness.
Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang.
Six round burst in a strict rhythm. Lancers had a sort of rat-a-tat-tat sound. This was too orderly. A Hammerburst. Locust.
Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang.
Then there was smell and taste. Oh the smell. Like carrion left in the sun. Like a Brumak's crotch. If he had his knife on him and proper motor skills, he would cut off his nose in a heart beat. If he had his pistol he may very well have blown out his own brains. But he couldn't move yet, movement would always be last. First, taste, which compared to smell wasn't that bad. Just a metallic taste of his own blood, something he had tasted all too often. Subtly moving his tongue around his mouth, he felt a big hole where his top back teeth should have been, and a looseness in the bottom two. Grenadiers punched hard.
Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang.
Roar.
Humans were sight based creatures. A soldier needed vision. Corporal Xander Heckler risked openinfg his eyes just a slit. Oh how he wished he hadn't. The smell should have been a tip off, but he just had to open his eyes. He had seen such horrible things throughout his life, but nothing like this. The smell didn't do it justice.
Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang.
People. So many people. Not just Gears. Women. Children. Old men who couldn't fight but still did their part. All around him corpses were piled one on top of the other. It was a dumping pit. The entire population must have been thrown into here and shot. One Drone patrolled the heaps and put a burst into bodies, shooting moans, shooting twitches, shooting breaths, shooting children begging for their mommy. The Drone came closer, passively looking around and shooting. It grumbled every now and then, something in it's disgusting, lumpy, deep tongue that was probably a curse for the souls or a Locust equivalent of "this is fucking boring." Xander couldn't move. There was a burly Gear resting on top of him, the head decimated and dripping brains onto his lap. Xander probably could push him off, but not before the Drone noticed and put a burst through his head. And the roar. God, that couldn't have been. It couldn't have been a Brumak, right? No, it was far off. Probably just a patrol. So kill the Drone then run like hell away from the Brumak. But how to kill the Drone? It was getting closer. Xander kept his eyes open just a slit, watching, praying to whatever god that was still listening for the Drone not to hear his pounding heart. He could hold his breath and keep still, but his heart just refused to calm. At this rate, he would have a heart attack before the bullets bit his skin.
The Drone came closer. It squatted and looked him over, maybe seeing a flicker in Xander's eyes. It lifted the Hammerburst and fired, but a dry click came out, and Xander nearly shit himself right there and then. The Drone grumbled something and ejected the clip of his rifle. Xander still prayed and prayed for him to just move on. But then the Drone pushed the rifle to his head again.
A large black hand took hold of the Drone's head and yanked him back, the glove muffling the Drone's protests. Another hand held a knife, and wrapped around the Drone's middle. The knife jammed into the Drone's belly, then carved its way across the abdomen. The Drone tensed and screamed as loud as the hand would allow, gun flailing and shooting the burst up into the air as the hole in its stomach grew wider and wider. Organs spilled forward, steaming in the coolness of the ground. Xander could have sworn tears dripped out of the Drone's eyes, but that was impossible. Drones didn't feel. Drones didn't cry. They were barely anything more than dirt given form.
The end came when the knife pulled out, and jammed through the Drone's chest. It must not have hit the heart, because the Drone still fidgeted. The blade pulled out, before it was again jammed into the Drone's chest. Pulled out, and jammed in again. Then and only then did the Drone succumb, grumbling something then lying still.
Xander cringed, looking forward, to see…to see proof that there was a god still watching over him. This Gear was tall, over six feet, and standing in full armor. His helmet was a variation of the standard one, with a single visor instead of two eye holes and a larger re-breather that must have spared him the vomit inducing odor. It was the CQB variant, designed for better vision. The Gear bent, wiping his blade on the albino skin of the Drone to clean it before returning it to the sheath on his chest. He looked around a bit, as if unsure. Xander pushed the corpse off him and looked around. "Hey," he said slowly. "Corporal Xander Heckler, you?"
The helmeted Gear looked to him. "Isaac. Private Isaac Koch." Isaac lowered, and put a big hand around Xander's arm, before hoisting him up to his feet. Xander took a moment to brush himself off, before looking to the other Gear's weapons: shotgun, Lancer, snub pistol in the holster on his left side, knife on his chest. "Don't suppose you would be willing to share?" Xander drew his revolver. "All I got."
The helmeted Gear took the Lancer off his back and passed it to Xander, who took it gracefully. "Thanks. You from Kappa?"
"Upsilon four," Isaac said lowly.
"Echo-Nine. I guess you're with me." Corporal did outrank private. Xander took a moment to look over his revolver, then returned it to its holster. He looked over the Lancer. His pockets and vest were still spilling with clips of ammunition. Last, there was a knife in his boot for emergency. His armor was getting too old. It was a Pendulum War era thing, somehow having survive all those years. No lights, barely any compartments left to carry anything, and held together mostly with tape and glue. His fingers brushed over his chest, finding the holes from the shotgun's blast. This armor had saved his life, so it wasn't completely useless.
"We still have a mission, sir?" Isaac asked.
Xander sighed, and touched his radio. "Control? Command?" He paused. "Radio is dead. Must be Seeders in the area."
"Where is the nearest pick up point?"
Xander shook his head. "I don't know where we are. Grenadier got a blow in and I got knocked out. Next thing I know, I'm here…Thank you, for the help." Again, the smell. He cringed, wanting to throw up right there and then, but kept it down. He was so damn envious of the other Gear and his fresh breath.
Xander, Lancer in his arms, looked down the desolate street. Over the wind, came a low voice. "Hominids."
The words were carried over the air and field of death. Xander and Isaac both dropped down to their bellies, laying flat. Xander was first to peek out. "Patrols, shit. They're going to find their dead buddy. We better get moving." On his belly, he started crawling, keeping low to the ground. By the shuffling and crunching behind him, Isaac was doing the same. When they overcame the thick stench of the dumping pit and came to another street, they lifted up and ran for an old abandoned building, crumbling and dusty and barely holding together. The buzz of the chainsaw would have been too loud. Isaac settled for kicking the door down. He took a few steps back, bracing himself, then charged forward. He threw his boot forward, slamming into the wood, then landing back. Xander walked over, bracing himself with Isaac. In unison, they charged and smashed their respective foots into the door. It budged once, and on the third kick, it broke in. Isaac took point, stepping in at a low crouch. He looked around, before giving the signal for Xander. Xander cast one more gaze around the empty streets, before coming in, and closing the door.
Isaac slumped to a seated position. "I thought the Light Mass Bombings were supposed to kill the buggers, not rile them up so much. This…god, this used to be a metropolis." He touched his left pectoral. An odd gesture, but not something unheard of. Maybe he was counting heart beats. It was a nice way to be reminded you were alive.
"We killed the little buggers. Just not the medium little buggers, or the medium buggers, or the big buggers. You think all the Brumaks are chicks?"
Isaac turned to look at him. "What?"
"Well, it's not like they are wearing pants or anything. And they're like a hundred feet tall. I mean, if they weren't all girls, wouldn't they all be armed with clubs?"
Isaac chuckled slightly, heading deeper into the building, shotgun at the ready. "Come on, we gotta keep moving before one of the big ones comes along and decides to show you what it is."
Xander chuckled. "Yes, let's get going. Though truth be told, I might not mind that."
"You're weird corporal," he said, shaking his head. They both froze when they heard the ever approaching roar, and the ground shook slightly under their feet. Actually, they both turned to each other and gave a slight laugh.
"I mean, imagine the only chicks are Berserkers and Brumaks. One will rip you apart, and you'll get lost in the other one. No wonder they are so ornery, no way to let off their steam."
Isaac was right. This used to be a metropolis. This place used to bustle and bristle. After the Lightmass Offensive, for a while humanity knew the peace they had so longed for. Sure, there were raids, or attacks, or anything, but for a while they really thought that the war was over.
"Amazing how wrong you can be," Xander muttered.
"Huh?" Isaac asked.
"Nothing. Just thinking. Maybe there are some Stranded in the area that surrounds this place. We could shack up with them. Control," he said, touching his ear. "Control, do you copy? Connie? Fuck. Still nothing."
The helmeted Gear turned to face him. "Connie?"
"Yes, Connie. What of it?"
"First name basis?"
"Yeah…so?"
The helmeted Gear sighed. "Nothing. Just good to have someone, huh?"
Xander sighed. "Yes, it is. You got anyone waiting back home?"
Isaac kept walking, shuffling along quietly. He turned a corner suddenly, disappearing behind the wall. He came back into Xander's line of sight, falling flat on his back with a snarling Wretch clawing and biting at him. Xander dropped his Lancer, and instead took the Wretch by the grip on it's back. He yanked it back, struggling. For such a small creature, it must have been solid muscle. It was like fighting a bear. Xander managed to pull it off Isaac, and jammed a knee into its back, cracking something inside it. Xander threw it down the hallway, moving to retrieve his Lancer. The Wretch recovered, crawling forward, but was met with a buckshot to the chest that sent it flying back into a lifeless heap of bloodied flesh.
Isaac rolled forward, lifting to a kneeling position, shotgun trained forward. All around them, a scratching in the walls and on the roof, in the ground. Xander kept swaying his aim left, and right, down the hallway they had come from, and down the hallways they were going. "Fucking Wretches," he muttered, as the first sign of the sickly monkey dogs came burst through a hole down the hallway. Xander lowered to one knee and pumped a burst into the creature, opening wounds across its chest. Just behind it, came another. And from the other hallway, a third, both snarling and shrieking like demons.
Three down, four, five…eight. Pumps of the shotgun and the rat-ta-tat-tat of the Lancer bursting over down the hallway. That was the problem with fighting Locust. You could trust humans to hide and take cover, to be patient, to show some value of their life. But the Wretches, even as their kin lay dead and bleeding and the hail of bullets soared down the hallway, they just kept coming.
Xander said it the same time Isaac did. "We can't keep this up," Xander shouted, attempting to reload when one of the little-medium buggers pounced and clawed on top of him. He kept the thing at bay with the side of his Lancer, but the ferocity kept him from using the chainsaw to hack it to pieces. Instead, he brought a knee up into its side. With his other hand, he drew the blade from his boot, and jammed it into the Wretch's head. He twisted, working the blade through whatever brain the creature had. "Fuck!" he screamed, drawing his revolver and stuffing the muzzle into the thing's chest. He fired, blowing a hole through the little monster's chest and finally killing it. He caught hold of his Lancer, revving the chainsaw and lifting it, as another two Wretches sought to pile on top of him. They fell onto the sawing teeth, cutting through the middle of the bodies.
Isaac was doing much the same. He emptied his shotgun into the horde, and when that was done, he beat their little skulls in with the shotgun's butt. Heavy boots stomped them down and beat them back. But there was just so many. "We have to go," Isaac muttered, taking a moment to reload his shotgun. He looked around, before heading down the hallway. Xander stumbled to his feet and followed, shooting monsters as they turned the corner. How many could their possibly be? Was this the Locust's new tactic. Kill as many as they could in a given city. Then send out a small army of the Wretches to sniff anyone who was hiding. Back when men had fought men, that had been a tactic. He had heard of armies keeping packs of starved dogs, then releasing them into the ruins of a razed town to finish up the stranded off. From what he had seen, the sheer numbers of the tiny beasts. Reaching a boarded up window in the middle of the hall, Isaac turned to it, and blew a hole through the wood. Bracing himself, he dived forward, quite impressive for a Gear wearing full armor. Outside, he rolled, and reached his feet, stumbling out. Xander climbed out as well, turning back to the window and spraying fire wildly into the hallway.
When he heard a roar, he sighed, because, of course, it was just their luck that a fucking Brumak would be roaring and romping down the street. Why wouldn't there be? Xander thought of laying down in the middle of the street right there and then. A Brumak. A fucking Brumak. What could they possibly do against a Brumak?
Isaac ran, and slide behind a stray pile of rubble, pressing as close as he could to it and holding still. Xander didn't have such cover. Lacking any options, he just fell to the ground and lay still, Lancer slightly out of reach. Behind him, in the building, the Wretches squirmed and hissed, but perhaps hearing the Brumak, they decided to retreat.
For a while, there was only the loud, stomping and distant roars of the great titan. That didn't last though. Soon enough, the rumbling ground actually made Xander bounce up and down, and the roar threatened to blow out his ear drums. Still, he lay stock still, though slightly tilted his head, looking down the street.
Hearing about Brumaks was one thing, even seeing them when you were in a Centaur or on a Raven was different than laying on the ground, and seeing it approach. Its feet were as large as Xander's whole body. Its mouth was probably big enough to eat him whole. Isaac lay still behind the cover, pressed into it.
Then the Brumak passed. The two crew didn't even pay attention to the "dead" Gear and the Gear hiding behind the rubble. They just passed by. Another few steps, another rumble rumble of the Brumak's steps.
"Isaac," Xander whispered, though he could speak loud. The Drones on the Brumak's back weren't paying attention. "Isaac. Follow my lead."
Facing a Brumak face to face was equivalent to suicide. It wasn't even recommended if you were sitting in a Centaur. They were simply monsters. Monsters, but puppets really, kept and controlled by the men on their back. What would stop a Gear from riding on?
Xander stood and moved fast and silent in a low run. The Locust still just sat there on the beast's back. Xander loaded a new clip into his Lancer as he ran, and taking position, he lifted the Lancer and put a sudden burst into the lower of the two Drones. The other turned back to see him. He tried turning the Brumak to stomp the Gear, but the Brumak was slow and stupid, unable to turn quick enough. Isaac, running, drew his pistol, and popped several shots into Drone. Xander lowered to one knee and lifted his weapon, putting precise bursts into him, until the corpse fell and slumped off the Brumak's shoulder to the ground. The Brumak, having been ordered to turn and face another way, did turn and face the two. Xander felt himself clench, his grip tightened, and his Lancer held out as if he could somehow kill it with his small weapon. Isaac took up his shotgun, but the Brumak didn't move. It's multiple eyed helmet just stared there and focused on the two Gears, but it's tiny brain couldn't register these two as hostile or friend or food without guidance from the pilot. Xander slowly circled around the creature, Isaac did the same. Reaching its back side, Xander reached up stepped onto its tail. Putting his rifle on his back, he started to climb.
"You're fucking nuts, corporal," Isaac sighed, as Xander reached the top and settled on the Brumak's mount.
"In a mad world, only the mad are sane. You coming?"
Isaac sighed, and climbed up as well. "I'll pilot. I know how to fly a King Raven and a ship. I can figure this out." Xander grumbled, heading to the second seat, Isaac taking the first and slowly trying things until the Brumak gave an affirmative roar and started to move.
"So…" Isaac asked, looking over his shoulder. "What do you want to do know?"
Xander looked out over the city. Infested with those disgusting Wretches and Drones. There couldn't have been any humans left. They were all dead. Taken by the Horde. Thrown into slaughter pits and shot down. Wretches ripped them apart and ate them. He sighed, looking to Isaac. "I say we drive this guy to a COG base. This might be good for the researchers. A live Brumak. This is the stuff of legends. But first thing is first. I say we find every Drone and we stomp and rip and crush them to a pulp.
Isaac nodded. "Just as soon as I figure out how to pilot this thing."
Two days later, Corporal Alexander Ian Heckler and Private First Class Isaac Koch arrived at a COG base. They rode in on a Brumak. They named it Betty, as it was discovered it was indeed female.