Chapter 42

There were more of them now. And they seemed to be everywhere at once.

Rosen had been the next victim. They'd been running for the exit when a clawed hand had shot out from beneath one of the large humanoid statues. The six long, multi-jointed fingers had wrapped around his ankle and pulled him to the ground. Rosen had yelled out in pain as the hand yanked him towards where the Protomorph had been hiding with enough for that he'd felt his ankle pop out of its socket. To his credit, he'd managed to get a few shots off towards the thing. No one knew if his hits had landed though. As quickly as they'd realized what was happening, he was gone. His screams had echoed to them before ending with a wet, sickening crunch that was followed by a triumphant roar several seconds later.

Fan had been killed after that. They'd almost made it to the exit when he'd slipped on a puddle of viscous fluid that no one else had noticed dripping from the ceiling. The medic had landed on his back, his helmeted head bouncing off the hard stone-like surface. Just as he'd blinked the stars from his vision, the Protomorph that had been clinging to the ceiling descended on him. The others had already made it to the door before any of them realized what was happening.

When they'd run back to help him, all they found was his ruined corpse, his head lying in broken pieces in a pool of expanding blood.

Hopkins and his squad had whirled around, weapons up and at the ready when they'd heard the gunfire and yelling. The remaining Marines of second platoon ran down the large ramp, with several stumbling as they came down. Lieutenant Brink and Corporal Busch had stopped halfway down the ramp and taken up modified kneeling firing positions to cover the rest of the Marines. Hopkins saw that Davis and Jackson were both carrying bodies with them.

"What happened?" Hopkins asked, eyes still on the large archway at the top of the ramp as Jackson approached. The big man's face shone with sweat, and he was breathing heavy.

"Some kind of creature in there attacked us." Jackson relayed, wiping his forehead with the back of a gloved hand. "Some kind of damn…bug or something. I dunno. But it's big, and it's fast." He stopped and took in a gulp of air. "One killed Billie right in front of me, Rob."

"Reagan's dead?" Hopkins asked. Jackson nodded, still panting.

"Reagan, Carson, Bradford." Jackson listed. "Dunno who else. No one knows where the hell Staff Sergeant Wilks is. I don't think we-"

"Contact!" Busch yelled, opening fire. The Protomorph that had been standing in the center of the doorway like some kind of spindly, alien ghoul darted to the side. Busch could see the sparks from his rounds impacting stone, and stopped firing.

"What the fuck was that?!" Fletcher yelled, having caught a profile shot of the alien through his NODs and magnified optic. "Did anyone else just see a fucking alien?"

"Keep covering the door!" Lieutenant Brink ordered. "Watch for any movement!" The Lieutenant stepped off the ramp and started towards Hopkins. "Hopkins, any contact with First Platoon or the Command team?"

"Corporal Yanez didn't bring you up to speed, sir?" Hopkins asked. He saw that his two Marines were with the group that had just run out of the building.

"They didn't have time. We got caught up getting the hell away from those things in there." Brink said, jacking a thumb over his shoulder towards the large building. "What happened? Did first platoon get back with-"

"Contact, seven o' clock!" Fletcher yelled before letting off a long burst with his machine gun. Other Marines joined in, rifles barking. None of them registered any hits, and the Protomorph had disappeared again.

"Sir, first platoon is gone." Hopkins relayed grimly. Brink looked at the Sergeant like he had a dick growing out his forehead.

"What?" Brink asked. "How? What happened?"

"I made radio contact with Rook, sir." Hopkins said. "He relayed that Captain Bartz and First Sergeant Apone are dead, and that first platoon is combat ineffective. He said that he has three survivors with him."

"Who are the survivors?" Brink asked, raising his voice over the din of yet another barrage of gunfire. This time the alien evaded the gunfire by climbing up one of the large stone pillars that stood outside of the building. It slinked around to the far side like some sort of large, scaly lizard.

"Corporals Liscomb and Fulmer, sir." Hopkins reported. "Apparently the other company rep is with them too."

"Damn." Brink breathed out. "What's their location? Can we link up with them?"

"Unknown, sir. We sent up a flare and Rook said he could see it and that they were en-route. We sent up another one a few minutes ago."

"Roger." Brink said, his non-firing hand going up to his push-to-talk.

He stopped when he heard a scream nearby.

Hopkins and Brink turned to see that one of the Protomorphs had grabbed ahold of Early. This one appeared smaller, maybe the size of the average teenager. It must have used the others' peekabooing the Marines to sneak around. It was walking backwards on its hind legs, one hand around Early's torso, the other with its large hand on his helmet and around his face.

"Get this fucking thing off me!" Early yelled. He then screamed as its fingers bit into his chest. Dark splotches of blood, black under the filter of NODs, stained his cammies. Hopkins raised his rifle, painting the thing's large, elongated head with his rifle's IR laser.

"Wait!" Brink yelled, but Hopkins had already fired. The round hit, causing the Protomorph to twitch. It let out a roar as it released Early, charging towards Hopkins. Blood from the creature's wound had dripped onto Early's shoulder. The fabric of his vest's shoulder strap began to smoke, and the material quickly disintegrated. He began to scream even louder as the acid reached his shoulder.

Hopkins continued to fire into the Protomorph that was charging him. He could see the bullets impacting it, see the spray of thick-looking blood from each hit, but it continued towards him.

Something knocked Hopkins to the side, and he stumbled into the Lieutenant. Both Hopkins and Brink hit the ground. They looked up to see that Lance Corporal Chuck Heeley, Fletcher's assistant gunner, had knocked them aside. Heeley fired his rifle from the hip on automatic, the rounds stitching up the ground towards the charging alien.

Then the Protomorph reached Heeley.

It was like watching a large cat pounce on its prey. Powerful muscles hidden beneath its exoskeleton powered the alien forward, and it landed on Heeley with enough force to send them both crashing down. Heeley yelled out in pain and tried to get his gun up to fire into the thing. Despite how slender its limbs were, the Protomorph weighed at least as much as he did in full kit.

The alien snarled and opened its mouth, inner jaw shooting out. Heeley had scooted himself backwards, and the inner jaws punched into his sternum rather than his head. He howled in pain as the jaws pulled themselves out of his chest cavity, the smaller set of teeth releasing bits of flesh, muscle, and lung that they'd bitten into. Blood spurted from the wound, and Heeley found himself gasping for air thanks to the combination of the weight of the alien and his now-perforated lung.

Instead of going for his main gun again, Heeley went for his pistol. He was about to bring it up and fire again when his brain registered the acid that was now burning into his body at multiple spots, including a drop that had fallen from the Protomorph's head onto his cheekbone. He screamed again as the acid ate through flesh and bone. It filled his mouth and dissolved his tongue.

Mercifully, the Protomorph's next attack was successful. The headbite killed Heeley before he could drown in his own liquefied tongue and throat.

"Get up!" Brink yelled, pulling Hopkins' shoulder strap. The Sergeant had watched in stunned horror, mind unable to comprehend the scene he'd just watched unfold. "Get up, Hopkins. We need to move!" Brink ordered, firing his MA-10 at the Protomorph. One of the ten-millimeter rounds spranged into the creature's exoskeleton, the round flattening against its natural armor. The preatomorph hissed and turned, loping back towards the building on all fours.

Hopkins found his footing and took aim at the retreating creature, but it had disappeared, blending with the shadows.

"Marines, on me!" Brink yelled. "Covering sectors of fire, bound and cover!" He turned to Hopkins. "Sergeant Hopkins, get your squad and move us out of this courtyard. You get to that wall and cover us, I'll lead the rest out. Check?"

"Sir!" Hopkins said, having regained his wits. "Second squad, on me! Get ready to move!" Reed, Barrie, and Manny all turned, ready to run. "Fletcher, let's go!"

"Fuck you, Rob!" Fletcher yelled as he reloaded his machine gun. "You guys go, I'll see you out there!" Hopkins knew there was no point in arguing.

"Alright. Second squad moving!" Hopkins called out.

"Move!" Brink replied.