Chapter 5
Gospel didn't immediately make his presence known. He lowered to a knee and used his Lancer's sights to focus on the crash. He smiled when he saw the pretty woman, Jinx, still alive, still tending to her wounded. Like an angel in a time of horror, staying calm and protecting her hurt. Thirteen people had been on the copter. Eight bodies lay cold and stiff on the ground, a shred of cloth covering their twisted faces. One was unconscious, on the ground like the corpses, but his head was propped up and his chest lifted and fell with strained breaths. Gospel wasn't sure if he was happy or annoyed to see Arnold alive and giving orders to the civilians. There was no way that the Locust didn't know about the crash. Hidden somewhat in the brush, Gospel put his head down and fell into a light sleep.
He woke to the sound of gunshots, a slight delay between implying a Hammerburst. That meant Locust. Peeking his head up, he saw the survivors of the crash, now surrounded by ten Locust Drones and, standing nearly seven feet tall and carrying a distinctive bow, what was no doubt a Theron guard. That was the reason Gospel didn't burst out of his hiding place in defense of his fellow man. The Theron were massive creatures, not as large as Boomers but he would gladly go toe to toe with a Boomer, or even a Berserker, rather than one of the guards. Because the guards were smart, and that made them dangerous. He kept his rifle level, peering through the sights, but to engage now would not only kill him, but the civilians and Arnold. It was cowardly to stay hidden, he knew, but it was stupid to attack.
The Theron pointed towards the broken path that they had come from. Jinx shook her head and shouted something that Gospel couldn't make out. She ran to the wounded, unconscious man's side, still groaning and babbling painfully. The Theron tossed her away with a backhand and put a burst from his pistol into the wounded's chest. Then he pointed to the beaten path.
Three of the Drones went first. Then his fellow humans, with their hands behind their head, a Drone between each of them to prevent them from talking. Then the Theron, last, closest to Arnold, who they must have deemed the biggest threat. And then the remaining few four Drones. Keeping a distance of three meters, and staying behind the trees, Gospel followed. Only the Theron would even think to cover the rear, and he was focusing on Arnold.
"What do you want?" Jinx asked. "Why are you doing this? What did we ever do to you?"
"They can't answer you," Arnold said. "They don't speak our language." The Theron guard gave him a stiff blow to the back that caused him to stumble off his feet. "What?" Arnold demanded, turning and shouting at the guard. "What do you want? Why not just put us down? You want us so bad, you can carry us."
The Theron lifted a back hand to brain Arnold, but a bullet in his back caused him to lower his hand and turn, hoisting a Drone in front of him to absorb the remainder of the clip. The now dead Drone's Hammerburst lay on the ground. Arnold dove for it, snatching it up and shoved the butt into the Theron guard, who hardly seemed to notice. A punch into Arnold's gut sent him reeling, pained and gasping for air. The Theron pointed in the direction of the gunshots, and the Drones hurried forward, through the hail of bullets, getting cut down before they reached any distance.
Gospel had been hoping to learn where the Locust's base was, he had hoped to follow them and free his comrades later, without having to engage in a fire fight. But of course Arnold acted like an idiot, Arnold had to act big and tough even to a guard twice his size, and Gospel was forced to engage. He shot down three of the approaching Locust before his clip ran out and he revved his chainsaw, carving one to pieces. He ducked behind a tree as a flurry of bullets attacked him, searching his pocket for an additional clip but finding none. Growling, he pulled out his Boltok pistol and waited for the shots to cease.
The Drones he could deal with, he had already removed half of them from the battle. But he had lost sight of the Theron, and it had ducked and rolled into the cover of the trees. He had to get back to his comrades, and popped out of his cover to fire at one of the approaching Drones. Then he leapt into the open, snatching a discarded Hammerburst off the ground. He didn't stop even as the Drones reloaded and opened fire, pounding shot after shot into him. Fortunately, they lacked the grace for finer shot. He was hit three times, but his armor proved durable this time, and after a moment he had leapt over the Locust's defense. Lifting the rifle, he gave each a burst in the chest.
Arnold was still on the ground, gasping for air, by the time Gospel reached them. Jinx and the two other Stranded were on the ground, hands over their heads as if that could ward off a stray bullet. "The Theron," Arnold wheezed. "Go get the Theron. He ducked into cover. Go kill it before he comes back."
Gospel hated Arnold. Since boot camp, for whatever reason, Arnold had taken every jab, every foul word, every attempt to make Gospel miserable. No real reason or motivation behind the hate, it was just a natural part of life. But Arnold was right. A Theron was too dangerous to leave be. He dropped the Hammerburst on the ground and snatched Arnold's remaining clips, loading his Lancer and following the large, heavy footprints that marked the Theron's path.
Only once had he ever encountered a Theron guard, and that had been with two additional Gears for support, Lopez and the late Martinez. Even then their single plan had been to pump as many rounds into it as their Lancers would allow. Its armor made it dangerous. The ballistic face mask meant attacking the most vulnerable point on the body was useless. It could wield that cursed bow with such ease it was terrifying. And now he was facing it down, with an aching gut and only two spare clips. Hopefully Arnold would recover and bring Jinx and the two others to safety so Gospel wouldn't die completely in vain.
His aim swayed from side to side, grass crunched beneath his boots, and his grenades clanged loosely on his belt. How he ever heard the wind whistle was beyond him, but he did and ducked, and the exploding arrow embedded in the dirt a few feet in front of him. He turned and squeezed heavy on the trigger, putting several bursts into him Theron before the Theron dove behind a tree. Gospel pulled one of the grenades from his belt and threw it, and continued firing as the Theron dove from his cover and ran along the open air.
Still on the ground, he ejected his clip and tried to stuff a new one into the Lancer's belly. But his fervor prevented him from sliding the tight steel in, then as the Theron moved from cover and pulled the elastic wire of his bow to his chest, the barrel jammed. It was what they taught in basic, and yet still veterans made such mistakes from time to time, usually at the worst of times in fact. The Theron fired, and he rolled, as he did smacking the gun until the chambered cleared. He pumped a good few shots into the Theron, who just stood there, taking the whole clip.
He ejected the clip again, and again a shaking hand prevented him from reloading properly. This time however, when the Theron leaned out, he threw his Lancer to the side and drew his Boltok. The Theron, confused by this change in tactics, didn't immediately pull his wire, and Gospel firied all six shells into the Theron's chest, knocking it to its knees. He snatched up his Lancer and revved the blade, and cut through the Theron's armor and flesh, a gush of blood spurting out like a geyser.
Now carrying the Theron's bow on his back, he made his way back to Arnold and the Stranded. Each had a Hammerburst, and several Drones lay dead and strewn about. Arnold yanked the radio from Gospel's ear and put it in his own. "Control? Control?
"What the fuck do you mean we have to go to a fucking factory?
"Fuck that!
"Fine, Kappa out."
Furious, he yanked the radio out and threw it back at Gospel, who caught it replaced it in his ear. "We got new orders. Seems there's an old military base several klicks south of here, with information about the Hammer of Dawn Satellites. Control just found out that the terminals are being activated. We've got to go and stop the Locust, make a copy of the information, and raze the compound so the information can't be accessed again."
"But we're civilians," one of the Stranded shouted. "You can't do this."
"You were taking part in Operation Lifeboat, therefore you're conscripted. Stop whining or I'll shoot you myself. Gospel." He had to chew these next words, "You've been promoted to corporal. You're in charge."
Gospel gave a shocked glance, before chuckling.
"Shut up," Arnold said sharply. "Alright, who the fuck are you people?"
"Jinx," the woman said again.
The Stranded youth, who couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen, said in a voice that struggled to stay brave. "Williams. Billy Williams."
The last Stranded, the one who had complained, said, "Jacob."
"Your orders, sir?" Arnold said, dripping with venom.
Gospel waved a hand, to the south, and started off.
There weren't any additional Locust attacks as they moved through the trees towards the base. Jacob complained, until Arnold picked him up by the collar. No words need be spoken, Jacob simply stopped and sulked and walked along.
"He has every right to talk, fascist," Jinx snapped.
"I will cut you to pieces you little cunt, unless you start moving. I don't like this monkey work anymore than you. But these are the orders, and we are following them."
"We aren't soldiers," Jacob said. "We aren't like you. We can't do this."
"Either you die by the Locust or you die by me. And let me promise something, you will wish it was the Locust."
It was only the click of a pistol that stopped Arnold. Gospel standing like a rock. One hand holding the gargantuan revolver.
"I apologize for my outburst corporal. This is frightening for all of us, even us soldiers have our doubts. But we cannot allow the Locust to learn anything about the Hammer. Just stay behind Gospel and myself, take whatever shots you can." He sighed. "We'll be going in to hot areas. If Gospel or I hold up a fist, that means stop. A flat hand means hit the dirt. Three fingers pointed in a direction, you run in that direction and don't stop until you have good cover. Understand?"
"Yes sir," Billy said. Gospel chuckled. Little soldier boy, he worshiped Arnold, because Arnold didn't get scared. Arnold didn't get scared because David was dead. Arnold didn't fear death because he had nothing else to live for. That made him dangerous, to the Locust and to Gospel.
There weren't any Locust outside the factory. No patrols. No Brumaks or Therons guarding the delicate situation inside. Gospel lifted a clenched fist in the air. Arnold dropped to one knee and lifted his Lancer to scan the surroundings. The Stranded, not instinctively understanding the significance of the gesture, were slower to move. Jinx hit the ground, then Jacob, but Billy just stood there dumbly, until the sniper's round hit him in the left eye, and his whole body collapsed into a heap. Gospel didn't even register that one of his men had fallen. He followed the orange trace to the white bumpy skin, and fired a burst into the sniper's head.
"He's dead," Jinx said, still on her belly, looking to her side at Billy, the kid.