Chapter XLIV: Defying Death and Cheating Fate
February 28, 2541 (UNSC Calendar)/
Ajai Badlands, Juno, Olympic System
"Park, get down here!"
"Lunge's wounded," he replied over the gunfire.
"Banks, give him a hand," Pavel ordered.
Both of us provided covering fire for the two Rangers while they helped drag their wounded comrade back to safety. They were pulling on Lunge's shoulders while firing their MA37s in full-auto, not even bothering to control their bursts.
I fired my battle rifle groggily, the pain in my back was still receding, we were still under attack, and help was supposed to arrive soon.
"Hold those bodyguards!" Nezarian's voice ordered.
I turned around and pressed my back against my rock to avoid a steady stream of red plasma fire. The brute plasma rifles fired faster than regular plasma rifles, but they were also slightly weaker. The stream of red passed by and I popped back to shoot at the transgressor so that my temporary squad could make it safe. The brute staggered back after five shots hit it in the chest and neck, but quickly threw itself to cover.
"Where's he hit?" I asked Park.
"All over the place," he replied.
"I'm fine," Lunge stuttered as he tried to turn on his side to get up.
"Stay down there," I said as I pushed him back down.
"Park, Banks, lay down some covering fire," I said. Pavel hadn't stopped firing, his gun probably saved our asses.
"Staff Sergeant," they acknowledged before they started firing at eager brutes and grunts.
I looked at Lunge. He looked like shit. His face was burnt black on the right side, with blood oozing from the wound, part of his neck was blackened as well. He had three spiker rounds lodged in his chest, while the bayonet of the aforementioned weapon had opened two deep gashes down his belly. The man was pressing his hands against his stomach, trying to hold his intestines in. I poured all the biofoam I had on his abdomen, and he screamed in a way no man ever should. His legs hadn't been spared either. I could see his right foot through the bottom of his sole, it was bloodied and missing a large chunk. A needler round had blown up right above his ankle, and his foot was now only barely hanging to his body. His other leg was the only intact limb on his whole body.
I watched my squadmate as he looked me in the eyes. His chest heaved up and down irregularly and he spurted blood from his mouth.
"Shit, that's lung damage," I said, although it was already apparent.
The man looked me in the eyes, I half expected him to tell me to tell his wife he loved her, but he simply gurgled and eventually drowned in his own blood. All that wounds, all that pain, only for his own blood to kill him.
"Move back!" Pavel said.
I left my comrade behind, dead and still bleeding on the ground. I barely gave him a second look as I ran for my life, enemy fire managing to hit everything around me, except myself. Well, that isn't entirely true, a needle slashed my forearm but didn't wound me.
I jumped over a wrecked warthog, wincing as I pulled on the biofoam holding my wounds together. I landed on my back, which actually made me cry out in pain. After assuring Pavel and Park that I wasn't harmed I propped myself up only to have to drop back down as a banshee strafed us. I felt its plasma bolts hit the other side of the warthogs and saw a couple of them hit the ground in front of me before the craft turned around.
"Chopper!" someone yelled.
Instants later I heard a rocket explosion and decided that the chopper had been destroyed. I popped from cover to squeeze of two shots at a pair of grunts and a jackal, bringing down the jackal.
There was simply to many of them, we would be overrun soon enough. The only option we had was to jump on our hogs and run back, otherwise we would all die. Even if we did retreat, it was more than likely most of us wouldn't make it.
"Grunt on your six!" Pavel warned. I turned around and took it out with a single headshot.
"Flashbang out," I warned as I tossed a grenade blindly over the boulder that covered my already reduced temporary squadron and me.
The noise was simply a dull thud that managed to make most of the enemy fire stop for a second as they reached towards their hearing cavities and eyes. Most rangers left cover to fire steady bursts at the coming grunts and brutes. Grunts were piling up, forming decent cover for the brutes.
Time seemed to slow down even further as a chopper boosted over my boulder. I could clearly see the undercarriage of the vehicle and the wheels in the front spinning slowly. The brute itself was looking down at me as it flew over the rock. It was already pulling at the controllers to turn the thing around and massacre us with its 30mm autocannons. For a brief instant both of our eyes met, and only then did time seem to go back to normal. Well, enhanced-normal.
I fired three bullets before the chopper landed, two hit the brute's hands and one hit its leg, it didn't hurt it a lot, but it was enough to stop it from turning the chopper around, instead it crashed into a rock and was promptly killed by a grenade. I ignored the event and kept firing, hordes of enemies were crashing into the rocks, killing rangers and sometimes even trampling over their own allies. I emptied my magazine and unclipped the safety straps on all of my knives.
"This is going to get bad soon," Pavel said.
"You mean this isn't fucking bad?" asked Park, outraged.
"I mean death-bad."
As soon as he said that a plasma grenade landed in our midst. It immediately fused into the floor and started shining more brightly. We all jumped away from it as fast as we could. Luckily, we all made it in time. Unfortunately, we jumped into open areas that provided absolutely no cover whatsoever. I jumped once more into a rock without even bothering to get up, just using my legs to propel myself forwards. I turned around just in time to kick a jackal backwards. I promptly emptied five rounds into its chest.
Pavel slid behind an overturned hog and fired his gun randomly, hitting nothing but dirt and rocks, but forcing a few brutes into cover. Park jumped backwards, which meant that he was able to keep a degree of cover while he scrambled backwards towards Pavel's warthog. Banks was the unlucky one. He landed face-first and lost his rifle. He scrambled away from enemy fire, but was unlucky enough to receive an overcharged plasma shot to the waist. Banks seemed to loose notion of what was happening and slowly stood up, managing to avoid being hit by anything. A single brute captain clad in golden armor closed in on the man, and almost slowly, mechanically, executed him with the bayonet of his brute shot. The large blade went through his chest armor easily. The brute's strength was behind it, and I saw arterial spray hit the brute's face and chest armor before Banks collapsed to the floor dead.
"Die you fuck!" Lieutenant Nezarian said. He jumped at the brute from behind, seemingly appearing from nowhere. He pulled the brute's head backwards and shot it five times in the neck with his pistol. Nezarian jumped back down and shot the thing on one of its knees. Then he ran straight towards me, avoiding all enemy plasma, spikes and needles.
He slid towards the rock, even firing his pistol as he did so, all of his shots missed wildly. He slammed into me hard, but I didn't care, I was going to die, so a little kicking in the ribs wasn't something to worry about. I fired my battle rifle at a brute that had just broken a ranger's back by tossing it aside like a rag. The brute staggered under the sustained fire before it collapsed. I saw a ranger bayonet a couple of grunts before a jackal got three shots from a carbine into his eyes.
Park must've had enough of it, because he left cover with no weapons in his hands other than two primed grenades.
"Get back here you idiot!" Nezarian said.
Park ignored his superior officer and kept on running towards the Covenant in a senseless suicide charge. The two grenades detonated five feet away from the nearest enemy, only succeeding in blowing Park apart and killing him instantly.
"I guess this is it Helljumper," Nezarian said, his voice surprisingly calm considering the tone of his previous order.
I nodded at the man and pulled out my knife. I stabbed a skirmisher in the leg as it walked past my rock, then pushed my knife through its face. I reloaded my battle rifle, down to my last mag. I handed my pistol to Nezarian, whose own sidearm was out of ammo and his rifle was long since lost.
We both left our cover on opposite sides, firing at the enemy soldiers approaching us. I killed three jackals and stopped in front of a chieftain wielding a hammer. I emptied the rest of my ammunition on it, barely putting a scratch on the thing. I tossed my rifle away and sprinted towards the monster. On the way towards it I threw my backup knife at it, managing to hit its shoulder. I then pulled out my larger knife and tackled the monster, dodging a blow from its hammer.
My superhuman strength wasn't enough, I barely made the brute double over, but my knife went deep into its skin. The brute howled in rage and kneed me away, breaking a rib or two. I stabbed it right above the groin two times before it tossed me away brutally.
I landed hard on a chopper, bashing my head against it. I tried to stand up to face the chieftain, which was coming at me at a slow, measured pace. There was a snarl on its face that looked almost like a grin. The brute was just ten feet away from me when it stopped. It looked around it and then machine gun fire slammed into it. At first I thought it was Pavel, but then I heard a familiar noise, that of rotors turning.
I saw a green shadow streak overhead, fire spewing out from its sides and front, grunts, brutes, and jackals fell all over the place. The sound of rotors became larger and larger until I realized there was a fair amount of falcons overhead.
"Gunships," I whispered, almost surprised to hear myself say it.
"Who's this one?" asked a voice.
"One of the Special Forces guys, in the spearhead attack," a voice said between pants.
"Injuries?"
"Substantial," the second voice said.
I could make out the sound of wheels spinning against metal floors. I heard the sound of military boots hitting the same type of floor as well. I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids wouldn't move more than a millimeter, only allowing a bright light to go through. That's about the time I felt all the pain.
Then unconsciousness returned and took me away from all the suffering.
Two dull thumps.
Where am I?
A knee striking into my ribs, two powerful arms throwing me away.
Am I dead?
Two dull thumps.
No, can't be, that's a heartbeat. MY heartbeat.
The sound of a machine gun roaring as it fired continuously, the sickening noise it made when its rounds hit home. The sick pleasure and elation I got from seeing the brutes flesh being holed up, the joy I had experienced as I saw sprays of red and purple blood spray out the other side.
Two dull thumps.
The familiar noise, both an annoying background noise and a sound comparable to a choir of angels. The shadow moving slowly, sparks on its sides and on its nose. The incredible feeling of calm I had after I realized what it was.
I am alive!
I woke up with a start. It wasn't like whenever you sat up in your bed after a horrible nightmare. It was a jumpy wake-up of elation. I was feeling better than I had felt in a very long time. I was alive goddamit, and I was going to fucking enjoy that feeling.
"This is better than sex," I muttered as my eyes teared up from the pure joy of being alive and kicking.
"Pardon?" said a raspy voice.
I tried to turn to look at the man who had said that, but my body exploded in pain, particularly my lower back. I suddenly remembered the pain from the two spiker rounds slamming into me. I squinted at the artificial lighting for a few moments before my eyes got used to the feeling and the pain receded. I felt my ribs broken, I only noticed that because it was one of the last thoughts I had before I fainted. Then I took a moment to check myself for injuries, finding that my wrists hurt and that my right leg was throbbing violently.
"How is this better than sex?" the raspy voice asked. This time it didn't quite seem like a man.
"I didn't mean that," I said. "Just glad to be alive."
"Well, that's one of us," the voice was now distinctly female.
I turned around slowly and saw a person in a hospital bed next to me. The figure was now obviously a woman, clearing up any doubt that I might've had of that. She was covered in bandages from head to toe, with only the left part of her face left uncovered. There were a few plasticasts on her body as well, around her waist and left knee.
"Go ahead, say it."
"Say what?" I asked.
"You know what!" she screamed angrily.
"It's not that bad, you'll walk again, everybody does nowadays. The UNSC will pay for skin grafts, and you can get a nice surgeon to reconstruct whatever part of your body you want to. You'll probably get loans rather easily, being a vet and everything. Maybe, you'll even make yourself prettier than before. You'll certainly be discharged and then you'll go live on Earth or Reach and find a decent husband and have lots of kids," I said. The speech was mostly serious, but the last bit was to make the wounded Ranger smile a little bit.
"Really?" she asked, her voice sounded annoyed, sarcastic, and skeptical, but not as angry as before.
"Really," I said. I had dealt with scarred soldiers before, they were horrified at the prospect of loosing the faces they had had for so long. Most of the time I listened to doctors and nurses tell them this, but it was true enough.
"Prettier than before?" she said, this time with a cheerier tone.
"That'll be probably be hard to do, considering how you used to look," I said, trying even further to make her happy.
There was a long moment of silence.
"Thanks," she said finally.
Well, not even a minute into waking up from a fucking battlefield coma and I am already curing mentally-damaged wounded with less than three sentences. Good for you Frankie boy, you could've certainly done as a psychiatrist.
Or maybe a bit of Marina is slightly contagious.
I smiled, this time at myself and relaxed. The constant beeping sounds that rhythmically ringed over the room put me to sleep promptly.
"Ok, repeat that to me," the doctor said.
I rolled my eyes and looked around the elephant for a bit, it had been transformed into a frontline hospital, and my injuries weren't serious enough for me to be transferred to a rear hospital. That ranger girl had left hours after I woke up, showing the seriousness of her injuries.
"Two shots to the back, severe bruising in my thorax, broken ribs, twisted ankle, and torn muscles," I recited. "Should be out of this place in no time," I added.
"Sure," the doctor said. "Whatever you say."
I shrugged and ate my watermelon-flavored gelatin. It tasted like watermelon.
"You'll stay in bed for a three more days, then you'll be able to fight again, and I'm being generous," he said.
"In fact, I order you to stay in bed for three days."
"Yes, sir," I said unenthusiastically. The doctor was a major, a solid six ranks above me. I had no choice but to obey, otherwise I might get court-martialed, and those things are boring. The doctor sighed and walked away from me, headed towards a patient that had had a couple of needler rounds explode on his leg, breaking his ankle and shattering most of the bones around it. He'd be up in three weeks at the very least.
I picked up the outdated datapad that was magnetically attached to my bed. I re-read the same update that I had re-read five minutes ago. The UNSC forces had managed to push forward and break the covvie lines. They were now within spanking distance of the supercarrier. Soon enough they would be able to place nukes below it, preventing it from using its 'cleansing' beam in any direction and facilitating its destruction by UNSC Navy ships. Estimated time until the desired goal was completed was a couple of weeks. I'd probably get to fight in this again.
In the meanwhile, I relaxed a little, loosened up, and pushed my head back on the pillow, blocking out the noise of talking patients and moaning patients. Soon enough I would be out of this rat-hole. I just had to wait for a little while, maybe play some poker with the soldiers that weren't missing both their hands… Maybe not, who knows? The point is, only three more days until I had to get out of the place.
