After rummaging into a sewer conduit, Theta Six comes across the unexpected.
Chapter 3: Raven Foliage
The sudden splashing of water hit Demitri's face like a busted hole in a water hose squirting out of control, feeling the cool drops sting his warm balmy skin. Heavy panting could be heard, coming from whatever it was that splashing wildly in the knee-deep water.
In the near distance, Demitri could hear Sergeant Towslend laughing wholeheartedly at the squirming Private, futilely trying to keep the shaggy, wet mongrel off of him.
"I think he likes you, Private…" Towslend continued to chuckle at Demitri's expense.
"Then why doesn't he listen, shit…sit…heal…get off, dog!"
The scruffy canine wagged his damp tail furiously at the new company, panting heavily as his tongue jostled from his bottom jaw. It was blatantly obvious he was ecstatic to see them.
From behind, Josephine could tell by the jovial laughing that the coast was clear as he pulled away from the conduit wall and started to walk over to the Sergeant's position.
"C'mon boyos…not gonna let a wet hound scare us now, are we?" the others could hear Josephine chuckle as they too began to gather themselves up from their positions.
"Goddamnit…now my fatigues are all fucking wet," Brussels griped after sitting in the deeper end of the conduit for nearly five minutes.
"Mind your profanity, Rod," Gaiman could be heard as he passed up Brussels, moving ahead. Brussels could only quietly grumble as he too picks up the pace and follows Giaman.
Moving up with the increasing current pushing the water, the four meander through the knee-deep muck, keeping their gaze focused on a anxious Demitri, whom was preoccupied with the overtly excited dog, constantly jumping up on him and licking his face.
"Ok, ok…yea, I love you too, damn…"
"Ahhhh, looks like Sams finally got himself a bitch to lick his nuts," Leonard mused as the Sergeant continued to laugh.
"It's a he, Lenny," Demitri protested, "…he's got his own balls to lick."
"Pfft, anything to keep him from jerkin' off at the John has got my approval…" Brussels could be heard as the others join him in laughter.
"Oh haha…that's so fucking funny, *ow, …hey, easy boy…that's my arm you just scratched…" Demitri griped as the dog splashes around him, barking playfully at the reluctant Private. Demitri stood back while putting his Lancer up on his back, trying to keep the dog at bay with both hands now.
"So how did this dog get past the Locust horde?" Gaiman had to ask, wondering why or how the Locusts missed him. Although their sense of sight was weaker on the surface, how could they have missed this smelly, noisy mutt?
"Either he's been living in this sewer for awhile, or them Grubs no longer occupy Gail. Perhaps they moved on to the next town, to look for more supplies," Towslend analyzed, knowing that if the Locusts did find him, they would've killed him for doggie burgers. It was a sobering thought, knowing they'd kill a man's best friend and use it for lunchmeat.
"Then that means there's no point in splitting up, right?" Demitri blurted out loud; one can hope.
"You're not getting out of it that easily, Sams…" Towslend mumbled in a callous, tired tone.
"You know I had to try, sir…"
"Dually noted, Private."
Brussels butted in from behind, "So what's the plan now?"
"Lenny and I will take the east, the rest of you boys go west. When you get to the surface, in the event there are no Grubs waiting us out, take point to the front of the courthouse. Lenny and I will meet you there, got it?"
Brussels could be heard groaning, "Ah, fuck."
"What was that, Private?"
"I mean, yes sir."
"Then don't just stand there, playing with yourselves, get going!"
Moving down the drainage conduit was oddly quiet, considering the whistling of the gusts of wind could be heard coming from the grates of the gutters that lead to the street surface. The water was shallower this time, barely covering their feet as they moved, splashing along with the help of their new member.
"Whoa, wait up, Sparky…" Demitri yelled out, trying to keep up with the dog.
"Sparky? What kind of shit name is that?" Brussels was the first criticize, as usual. Sparky stopped in his tracks, waiting with his tail wagging profusely.
"Oh I don't know, Rod…I think Sparky suits him just fine," Gaiman commented, moving ahead of the Private to join Demitri and his new friend.
"I have ta agree wit Roddy…why not call em cuisine, or bon appetite?" Josephine was the next to comment on Demitri's choice of name for the scruffy mutt. Brussels whipped his head around as Josephine comes up from behind.
"Shit Josie…he's a dog, not dinner! The hell man," Brussels conveniently reminded odd-ball Corporal.
"…and he's da only food source we got, mon ami."
"Ok, guys, enough…seriously," Demitri finally intervened as the others join him, "…I'm sticking with Sparky, compared to the other names you would probably give him, Rod; like Fuckface, or Blueballs…and Josie, he's a dog, not lunchmeat, ok?"
"Whatever ya say, Sams," Josephine lightly chuckled as he approached the panting dog. Like clockwork, Sparky lit up and started to lick Josephine's hand, despite the others' discomfort about being near a guy who allegedly ate his cellmate when the prison personnel abandoned the facility shortly before the Locusts came, leaving the inmates behind in their cells to whatever fate was in store for them.
Brussels let out a full body shudder before looking up towards the sub-station entrance just ahead. Within seconds, Sparky ceased to lick Josephine's hand and ran ahead of them to the concrete steps. The wet dog stood on the balcony, next to the door, which was slightly open.
"Oh, you know dats not a good sign," Josephine muttered, glaring at the metal door that looked as if it had been forced open.
"Ah, crap," Brussels groaned, hating the idea of not knowing what lies ahead of them, just past that very door. I bet there's a pack of Wretches taking roost inside the substation.
"We need to keep moving men," Gaiman reminded them before taking initiative and is the first to walk carefully up the steps with Gnasher in hand. Sparky let's out an abrupt bark, waiting for the others to follow suit.
"Ok, ok, we're coming. Sheesh," Demitri griped as he too pulls out his Lancer and walks up the steps, while Brussels and Josephine follows behind him.
Keeping his back flushed along the wall, Gaiman keeps his Gnasher forward, carefully moving his head to peer around the partially open, metal door. Looking at the door under the faint light, he could make out the dent that ran along the seam, which consequently pushed it off the bottom hinge, bending the steel-ball bearing. Yea, this was definitely forced open.
Just as Gaiman peered around the frame, Sparky meandered around him and darts into the next room.
"Whoa, wait…" Gaiman hissed with a whisper, "…Sparky, wait!"
"Quick, follow him," Demitri blurted out.
"Hold your position, Private…we don't know what's in there," said Gaiman. He slithered around the doorframe and into the dimly lit room, with only the buzzing breaker box nearby illuminating the enclosed quarters. Scanning with precision, Gaiman makes no sudden movements, keeping his poise tranquil as he takes a glimpse to another open door that could possibly lead to the substation exit. Turning his head, he could see a light further down some corridor past the next metal door. It's going to be difficult to listen to oncoming Wretches with all this noise.
Gaiman quickly whipped his head back to find Demitri squeezing through the busted door.
"You see him? You see Sparky?" Demitri whispered to Gaiman.
"I believe he went that way…" Gaiman responded as he pointed his index finder towards the next door. His trail shouldn't be hard to follow…he has that distinct dog, smell.
Moving forward, Gaiman gets past the door and into the next corridor, in which Gaiman can visibly see the red exit sign ahead...just as I thought. Sparky was nowhere to be seen, but his smell was still potent to Gaiman's keen nose.
The other three move into the corridor, following Gaiman close behind as they follow through the concrete corridor with only the buzzing coming from the electrical output of the pipelines above. Another breaker box could be seen next to the exit door that too was partially open. The breaker box appeared mangled while the door was sound.
"Wait…hold…" Gaiman could be heard as he knelt down against the wall.
"Father? What is it?" Demitri had to ask.
"Something's not right. Back there, the door was forced open…but here, the door is in perfect condition. There's no sign of forced entry while the breaker box is shredded."
Josephine stood up while the others remained crouched, peering ahead to get a better look at the box. He tiptoes around the others before coming up in front of Gaiman, getting a better look at the mangled breaker box.
He reached over to get a feel of the mangled edges of the steel door that once covered the breaker controls.
"Careful Corporal…there's still electricity surging through those circuits," Gaiman reminded him.
"Aye…and den ya wouldn't have to listen ta me in confession all de time, now Father," Josephine rhetorically commented as he carefully leaned over, peering past the open door that lead out into town.
"Just as Sarge said…we're in town," Josephine mentioned.
"See any grubs man?" asked Brussels.
"Natta…"
"What about Sparky?" Demitri is next to ask.
"Nope."
"Well shit! How can that dog just take off like that?" said Demitri.
"Ahhh, Sammy misses his mutt," Brussels began to mock.
"Hey, he's a lot better company than you are," Demitri sneered, "…he doesn't bitch all day!"
"Well, let's getta look, shall we?" Josephine said with a smug. He takes it upon himself to venture out into the open as the others tread carefully shortly behind him.
Moving out onto the surface after trekking through the sewer for over three hours, the light hit their eyes like a tone of bricks. Although the sky was overcast, the light still hung heavily over their pupils, still dilated from being underground awhile…shit, not again.
Demitri squinted; bringing his hand over his face, feeling the wind brush against him in short, abrupt gusts as dust and leaves flutter in all directions. The only thing he could readily see was the ground, littered with rubble, trash, and wild weeds, protruding through the cracks in the slab.
They were soon to realize that they were actually in the substation outhouse, with the roof long eradicated and one of the brick walls toppled on the ground. They could see downtown clearly through the side with the toppled wall. With bricks scattered all over the vicinity, the four peer out into town, looking for anything that may suggest Locust occupation.
Despite the mess and overgrowth, the town for the most part was intact. Old four-story buildings stood undisturbed while sand bags laid in piles in front of shops with broken glass windows. Trees were either sound or stripped of their bark and limbs, as if a twister came through, bouncing over one terrain while landing and decimating another. In the distance from were the men emerged, only one emergence hole could be seen, but it was apparent that it had been there for some time, judging from the overgrowth that infiltrated the burrows in the pavement.
"Shit man…you guys see anything?" Brussels began to verbalize his thoughts, wondering if the Sarge may have been right…maybe them Grubs did make like a baby and head out.
None of them dared to venture out into the open just yet. Gaiman pulls out his rifle to peer through the scope while Josephine quietly meanders on all fours along the toppled brick wall of the sub-station, slinking along the window frame to peer through the broken glass. The wood roof had apparently caved in, with three of the four walls still somewhat intact.
In the center of the block, they notice several monuments and a fountain of what appeared to be an elaborate architectural building, made up of some neo-modern Tyran style with two-story pillars at the front of a series of concrete steps on a slope. But something was out of place…something wedged into a pile of concrete chunks, dug into the broken slab as if it dropped right onto it.
Peering at the large object that was lying still in front of the municipal courthouse, the men soon find a reason to put aside their objective for the time being.
"Hey…is that what I think it is?" Demitri whispers as Gaiman peers through his riflescope.
"My friend, we're looking at KR 213…" Gaiman murmured, glaring at the side of the fallen chopper, lying comatose next to the courthouse with it's numbers still intact along the chassis.
"Can we go in?"
"Scanning…" Gaiman slowly responded, searching for anything that may resemble an ambush. It wasn't unheard of for Locusts to sit and wait for Gears to come rescue pilots or other personnel from fallen craft, but judging by the debris that surrounded what was left of the craft suggested it had been down for at least a week. Locusts are not going to bother waiting us out that long.
"So Father, watcha got?" Demitri was the next to ask.
"Looks like the birds have started putting up a nest on the cowling…some heavy denting on the hull but no obvious punctures. Tail shaft is done, but the rest of the Raven appears sound…"
"…and I don tink Stranded has touched it," Josephine added, peering through the busted window using his detached scope.
"What makes you say that Josie?"
"Da pins are still in da chaingun turrets."
To those who didn't have access to a scope, the downed King Raven looked like a black heap from a distance, plopped right side up at a slant. It's chassis laid still in a pile of rubble in front of the courthouse.
The entire town was desolate. All that could be heard was the tattered flags on the flagpole nearby, fluttering from the sudden gusts of wind, and the trickling of water from the nearby fountain, recycling through a crack at it's basin. What was once a busy, peaceful town square was just a dead heap of rubble, trash, and debris as far as the eye can see. Automobiles sat lifeless, eroding from the elements while the paint peelings along building walls, reveal the plaster underneath their acrylic shells. Weeds peek through street cracks and sidewalks, waving in the breeze as dust is brushed up into the air.
The sounds of creaking metal could be heard coming from the fallen King Raven, lying idle along the courthouse steps with the only two in-tact blades waving in the abrupt gusts of wind. All else was still, with only the black birds cawing and flapping their wings near the fountain.
"I can't see anyone…what you got, Father?"
"Nothing is coming in view…" Gaiman let out a sigh, suspicious as to why there wasn't any Locust occupation, but nevertheless, his instincts suggested the area was abandoned.
"Damn…there's nothing here. We haven't seen a single Grub since Barnabas, man," Brussels pointed out in his usual sarcastic tone. Suddenly, Demitri's radio began to sound off.
"Demitri, whatta you have, over…"
"Shit, it's Sarge…we found a Raven; KR 213. It's lying out in the middle of the town square, in front of the courthouse."
"Is there activity?"
"Gaiman scanned the area, and as of yet we're not seeing any Grubs, nor Stranded…"
"Still, I want somebody taking point before any of you go out checking it out, just in case a Wretch has taken roost in it…"
"Affirmative Sarge. Who's gonna go out?"
"You and Brussels go out while Gaiman and Morrow take point..."
Ah, shit.
"…Leonard and I will check out the security point next to the Imulsion research facility. We'll meet up with once we've established a route."
"Roger that. Samson out."
Demitri could hear Brussels quietly cussing to himself while Josephine was deviously chuckling, loading more rounds into his rifle.
"Well, guess what Rodney," Demitri began before Brussels abruptly interrupts him.
"Yea, yea, I know the fucking drill," Brussels snorted as he gets up from the concrete block he'd been sitting on for twenty minutes, "…let's hurry and get this over with."
Crossing the street and onto the side walk adjacent from the side of the courthouse, Demitri and Brussels steadily move with their weapons in hand, taking glances around town square.
Moving past the scorch marks that ran along the slab, Demitri looked up at the Raven to get a glimpse of the dents in the hull. Geez, she landed a lot more graceful than the last one. Brussels slowed down his pace just so he could peer through the cockpit window.
"We'll need to check for bodies, man," Demitri softly reminded him.
"We'll also need to check for geobots…goddamnit, I'm really starting to hate this part of the job," Brussels began to rant.
"Shhh….man, if Gaiman hears you use God's name in vain…"
"Yea, yea, yea, I'll flog myself later…."
Just then, a faint noise could be heard from what appeared to be coming from the inside of the cabin. Demitri stopped in his tracks.
"…whoa, did you…"
"Shhh…shit man…the matter with you?" Brussels hissed before he slowly tiptoes around the cockpit and towards the cabin entrance.
Moving quietly, Demitri followed Brussels around the somewhat, lopsided hull, peering around the frame of the side entrance before another sound could be heard, but more audible than the first. Kneeling down before turning over his shoulder to glance back at Demitri, placing his index finger over his lip, Brussels then slowly moves towards the cabin entrance.
The mild clamoring was definitely coming from the inside of the Raven, but they were unsure as what to make of it; a Wretch maybe...or some Stranded looking for ammo. It wouldn't be a surprise to find a Stranded ransacking a bird after it crashed landed, often taking the ammunitions while leaving the injured crew, neglecting aid until they bled to death. It was a scenario the Gears were getting pretty tired of seeing…taking a man's gun while he's injured, and then leave him to die? What the hell do we become when we betray our own race?
Flushing their backs against the hull, Brussels carefully moves along towards the side entrance until he could see the fire extinguisher hanging on the back cabin wall. Turning his gaze over to Demitri, Brussels nodded his head, raising his hand and begins to count backwards…five…four…three…two…one.
Whipping around the corner of the frame, Brussels faces the cockpit side with Gnasher pointing at target when suddenly three black birds scurry out of the cabin, frantically flapping their wings as they bump along Brussels.
"ACK….fuck…" he blurted out loud, thrashing his arms to get the birds away from him, "…damn birds!"
Demitri quickly moves back, taking point behind Brussels before he realized that the cabin was empty, with only a bird's nest stashed up along the chassis in a corner.
"Gah…sweet motherfucker…" Demitri sighed with relief as he lowers his Lancer, "…and you had me going there, Rod."
"I had you going? Shit…" Brussels vented as he too relaxes, letting out a slight chuckle while Demitri shook his head at the whole thing.
"C'mon, let's see what we can find," Demitri suggests.
"Heard that."
Demitri carefully climbs into the cabin and then attempts to stabilize on a slant chassis.
"Careful man…this thing's at least sitting at a thirty-degree slant," he warned Brussels before taking the next step along the gun turret.
"Josie was right. The turrets still have their chain belts…either this bird hasn't been ransacked yet, or they just left the big guns and took the rest. I'm not seeing any bodies…" Brussels observed, looking for anything that may resemble an ammo clip to a COG tag.
"Wait…I see the pilot…" Demitri peered towards the cockpit, recognizing the pilot's suit and insignia. The body appeared to be lying still on the cyclic stick.
"Either the gunners fell out, or they survived and took refuge someplace," Brussels began to ponder.
"I'll go in to see if his tags are still on. Check to see if there's any geobots around."
"Sure," Brussels mumbled as he managed to climb up along the cabin doorframe, holding himself up by placing his hand along the hull wall.
Keeping a hand along the hull to hold his balance while holding his Lancer with the other, Demitri slowly entered the cockpit and takes a quick glance, before an object comes down on the side of his head, turning his world into nothing but a black, murky void. The sudden clank of an object being smacked into another object startled Brussels as he whipped his head around towards the cockpit with Gnasher in hand.
"Shit Samson…watch where you're going man," Brussels blurted out as he staggered his way over to the cockpit entrance before an object comes flying towards him, projected towards his head, and lands. The sudden contact of metal being smacked onto his forehead causes him to drop his Gnasher while he stumbled backwards, catching himself along the hull wall.
"Fuck…the hell…" he managed to spit out before someone comes running out, ramming into him and shoving him back. The world goes for a spin as Brussels falls backwards, landing on his ass before the hull wall abruptly stops his head.
"Brussels…Samson…what's going on down there? You guys alright?" Gaiman could be heard coming from Brussels' earpiece. The dark figure that just shoved Brussels to the cabin floor quickly scanned the area before grabbing Brussels's Gnasher that he dropped on the floor. Within seconds, the figure slithered out from the bottom of the hull before Brussels could even pull himself back up.
"Hey mon ami…oh shit…someone's making a go from the other side of dat bird…" Josephine could be heard on the squawk.
Trying to pull himself back up, Brussels brings the receiver back onto his headpiece,
"Well don't just stand there playing with your dick, Josie! Shoot the bastard!"
"I don have a clear line of fire…dis one knows dere's snipers out…"
"Gah…Fuck!" Demitri could be heard bellowing from the cockpit, trying to stabilize from an apparent blow to the head. He wearily peered out with blood caked over the left side of his forehead.
"Ah shit…could use some help down here, goddamnit! That son of a bitch has my Gnasher…" Brussels growled into his receiver before wearily jumping out of the fallen Raven with his Lancer in hand, searching diligently for their attacker. Before he could even act, a sudden brush of running footsteps could be heard nearby as Brussels looks up and sees Gaiman darting over several heaps of sandbags.
"TO THE COURTHOUSE…he went into the courthouse!" Gaiman yelled out in between pants, keeping his projectory towards the courthouse entrance.
"Sams, we're headin' to the courthouse…" Brussels yelled into the Raven cabin and then staggered over the scattered debris, following Gaiman over to the courthouse entrance.
"Say what?" Demitri yelled back, crawling over to the cabin ledge before plopping down and clutching his head, "…fuck..."
Rubbing the back of his head, he could feel the knot swelling into a goose egg from being hit by something hard, but by who or what still baffled him. Shaking it off as best he could, he got back up on his feet again, gripping his Lancer tightly, while keeping a hand along the cabin hull. Approaching the cabin exit, he slowly climbed down, carefully planting his feet onto the unstable ground. As he walked, he staggered over chunks of rubble that were littered around the fallen craft before sudden noises of birds flapping and cawing could be heard nearby, startling him.
"Damn birds…" he muttered dizzily, keeping his focus to the awkward ground.
Suddenly without warning, Demitri could feel his body sway as something catches him off balance, and is propelled forwards. He landed on the rocky ground with enough force to slightly bounce back before finally crashing down, and then suddenly Demitri felt something anchor him to the heap of rubble against the back of his head.
The fuck…he could feel something hard pressed up against his already, aching cranium as the birds flapped around his radio piece that he accidentally dropped from falling forwards.
"Sam…Sam, we lost him man…you better get back up here…" he could hear coming from the receiver of his earpiece, lying nearby. Vaguely, he could see it lying several feet in front of him amongst the scattered chunks of rubble, but didn't dare move his head to get a look at what it was that was anchoring his head down.
"HEY YOU…" he suddenly heard someone yelling nearby.
Demitri subtly looked up, trying to make out the obscure figure over the rubble while his head was still forced down onto the ground. Whoever had what felt like a cold piece of steel pressed against the back of his head, was diligent about keeping it there while Demitri laid helplessly on the ground, feeling the rocks and gravel stick to his already bloodied, grimy face.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you…if I were you, I'd be better off letting him go…" Demitri could here that same voice again. It's Sergeant Towslend…oh, thank God!
"We can go one of two ways…"
Goddamnit, will you just shoot the bastard? I'm tired of breathing this dirt up my fucking nose.
"…and I'm sure dying isn't foremost on your list of prerogatives."
Wait…something's not right. Why in the hell is he trying to negotiate with this asshole?
Feeling the hard steel slide around his head and then pressed against the side of his cheek, Demitri started to choke on his own saliva as he felt someone's knee, or boot, press against his upper back…I'm so fucked!
