Chapter 18
Brink stared on in horror, flanked by the rest of his platoon. Ahead of them was a steep slope. There were no trees, no grass, nothing.
Nothing except bodies. Thousands and thousands of massive, human-like bodies, their once-whitish skin now blackened and corrupted by whatever had killed them. From here, it was clear that they'd all been running. From what, the humans had no idea. But whatever it had been, it had killed them where they'd been. Whether they'd been running, fallen, or cowering, whatever tidal wave of death had washed over them had spared no mercy.
What was even more unnerving was the fact that there was no evidence as to what could have caused this. No indications of flood, no leftover ash or long-cooled lava of a volcanic eruption. Just a bare slope of dirt, covered with the dead. Brink's eyes scanned over the field of death again. That was when he saw them.
While most of these beings had died running or cowering, there were a chosen few who stood tall, defiant. Some had their head and faces towards the sky, while others had arms extended, fingers pointed. Whatever it was that had killed these…people, it had come from the sky.
"Alright." The voice broke Brink from his near-fugue state and snapped him back to reality. Then he realized it had been his own voice. He looked over his Marines, who all stared down at the killing field with faces a mix of awe and horror. The Weyland-Yutani rep, Janet, had a similar expression on her face. The only difference between her and the Marines was that she had taken action, having pulled out a small camera with which she was recording videos of the scene ahead of them.
"Sir?" Wilks said, still stunned by the discovery.
"Platoon wedge." Brink said. "First and third on the flanks, second on point with me." The lieutenant ordered. There was little chatter between the Marines as they fell into the formation and began pushing forward.
No one said anything as they started into the field of petrified bodies. Whether it was out of fear, respect for the dead, or some macabre fascination, the twenty Marines of Brink's platoon were quiet. Eyes scanned over and through weapon optics, targeting lasers shining bright against the blackened, cracked skin of the giants that surrounded them. Being in the midst of such beings, even with most of them hunched and cowering, gave the Marines a sense of being small that most had only felt the first time they'd ever stepped out of a ship and floated in the vacuum of space.
Brink kept his own weapon at the high-ready, scanning over the MA-10's holographic sight, instinctively shifting the weapon from one body to the next to the next. He'd started his career as a buck private in the Infantry, and certain skills were now hardwired into him.
Every Marine watched their footing, not wanting to disturb any of the bodies. There was something so…eerie about how human they looked, despite their massive size. The Marines couldn't help but give them the utmost respect. These were hallowed grounds, despite the unknown horrors that had spawned them. Those Marines who were religious said silent prayers to their respective deities. Those who weren't said some as well, and seriously considered changing their stance on religion and spirituality once they were off this planet.
After what felt like an eternity of walking amongst the dead, they finally reached the bottom of the slope. What they thought had been a hill had actually led to yet another overlook. As horrifyingly stunning as the discovery of the field of dead had been, this one left everyone speechless. Had he been capable of expressing it, even Knight would have had a look of shock on his face at what they found next.
Before them, set on a flat piece of land at the bottom of this next slope, was a city.