by Ian Woodhead
That fungal-like growth now covered every part of the body inside the cocoon. That wasn't the only change since Andrew was last here. The cocoon now had a bulging protrusion which ran from the floor all the way up to the top of the chrysalis. Like the rest of the surface, the skin was semi-transparent, and it didn't take him long to figure out what it could be.
“The geek said this was converting them into warriors.” He carefully placed his fingers on the bulge and exerted a little pressure. The material cracked like an egg shell allowing him to reach inside, through the gelatinous fluid surrounding the object and touch it. “A warrior has to have some kind of weapon,” he murmured.
Andrew grabbed the shaft and pulled. It gave some resistance but not enough to stop him from freeing the object from its binding. “Come to daddy,” he purred. It didn't look like any weapon that he'd ever seen, at least, not in general service but that didn't mean that Andrew hadn't seen something like this in the past, but those things belonged inside the furtive imaginations of all the geeky idiots who developed a boner from watching TV shows about aliens and various other bollocks and nonsense.
He stared at his find, while trying to figure out what to do with it now. Warm slime dripped over the back of his hand. Andrew wiped some of it off and as his other hand brushed over the thin shaft, his fingers must have had some kind of mechanism hidden on the surface as what he assumed to be the business end lit up like a Christmas tree!
The activation sequence wasn't just relegated to a physical sense. Andrew also felt a presence crawling up his spine. At first, he thought the geek was back but that thought quickly vanished. Fuck, no. This wasn't the geek
This mind was stronger, much stronger than the kid's. It also felt alien and cold, so cold! The invading thoughts slimed over his own mind and sank inside, leaving Andrew feeling like it had despoiled him.
“What the fuck just happened to me?”
[Still your precious thoughts, human. I think we are going to be good friends, don't you?]
The voice came from him, from within his own head! Andrew gritted his teeth in both shock, frustration and terror, knowing exactly what had happened to him. The weapon, this damn thing clasped in his hand was no inert piece of machinery. The fucking thing was alive and its mind had joined with his.
A calming sensation spread through his body. That outside invader had done this, the bastard was making him high using Andrew's own pleasure chemicals. Not that he cared, Well, he didn't now anyway.
[Use me, Andrew. Use me for your first time, my lover. Let us cement our bond with your first shot.]
He turned the business end towards the chrysalis, the weird sultry and frankly, well, fucking disturbing voice wasn't the only addition. Andrew now knew exactly how to use this ultra-advanced piece of insect tech.
[Could you raise the Ganthis staff a little higher, lover boy?] purred the voice. [I think it's best if you stand back another pace too. There are a few chemicals inside that shell that are more than a little volatile and won't respond kindly to a blast of concentrated stream of energised plasma. We don’t want you to lose any of those pretty fingers do we? I can't explain the pleasure they give me when they caress my body, Andrew, and I'm so looking forward to lots more prolonged contact as we become more familiar.]
He did as she suggested while wondering if there was any way of getting rid of that voice: she was seriously freaking him out.
Andrew fired. The cocoon simply liquefied. He looked at the staff in absolute awe as the warm fluid ran between his feet.
[As much as I want you to stay here, beautiful, with that warm and soft hand resting against my surface, I think you need to finish the promise you made to the previous occupant. The Reslslin guardians have just detected another loss. This close to hatching is making them a little nervous. Andrew, you so need to move. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.]
He spun around and ran back down the metal steps, fully aware that the ceiling had begun the move. Andrew remembered how quickly those things dealt with the last threat. Even with this remarkable new gun, it's doubtful that he'd last more than a few seconds. He reached the sit-down cabinet wondering if the weapon would even fire on its own kind.
That answer presented itself a second later when four of the guardians dropped onto the top of a pennyfalls machine. Even before they leapt, Andrew knew where the bastards were going to leap next. They would be landing on him! He brought up the staff and fired again. This time, the blast took out the potential attackers as well as most of the glass in the machine.
He raced out of the arcade, listening to the outraged squeal coming from hundreds of guardians. “Oh, shit,” he uttered, looking at all the insects gathering by the edge of the arcade. “I really have booted a wasp nest there. Are those things going to come after me?”
[No, sweetheart. None of the remaining Reslslin guardians will hurt a single hair on your sexy body. I cannot voice for the other creatures still inside this place. Their calling is bound to attract their attention. You should leave right now, while you still can.]
Andrew saw shadows in the middle of the market start to move and knew that he really did have no choice but to get out of here while he still could. He reached the archway and stood in front of the structure. "Now what?"
[I'm accessing the control matrix right now, lover boy. Please stand by.]
Just before the archway 's hidden systems hummed into life, Andrew suddenly wondered just how much of what he had just gone through had really happened.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Captain Dallas Penistone's keen sense of hearing picked out the noise of a tin can clattering against stone. Weapons fire coming from both human and insect forces should have totally drowned out the otherwise inconspicuous noise. This didn't stop the man from throwing himself into a pile of old carrier bags. The movement saved his life as a moment later, a blast from one of their infernal weapons melted out an ovoid section from the corner of the stone building that he'd been sheltering behind.
The urge to get the fuck away from there before the clown fired again grabbed hold of him but he choked that bastard down as neat as you like. Running meant instant death, maybe not from the one hiding in the alley who had just tried to turn him into meat soup but certainly from one of its pals who were hiding out in the upper floors of the many commercial premises surrounding him and what remained of his squad.
He dug himself deeper, confident that the noise of battle would mask the rustling coming from the bags and waited, feeling confident that, although he was currently incapacitated, one of the others would remove the menace.
A moment later, a stream of Hi-Ex shells turned the entrance to the alleyway into dust and rubble. Dallas thought he heard a scream but that might have just been wishful thinking.
His guys might not have any of those fancy ray guns but they could still bite those scrawny bugs on the arse when the need arose. He risked lifting his head, keeping his gaze on the windows of those grey, monolithic tower-blocks surrounding his position, alert for any tell-tale signs of movement. Unlike human snipers, the insect guys just couldn't stay still for more than a few seconds. The skittish things continuously gave away their hiding places, making it a piece of piss for his guys to take them out.
Nothing above him moved and as the alleyway was now completely blocked, Dallas judged it safe enough to join his men. He rolled away from the bags, scrambled to his feet and raced back to the relative safety of the transit van on the other side of the street. The remainder of his unit didn't look all that happy to see him return. Dallas didn't blame them, considering it had been his idea to try to reach the interior of that newsagents in the first place.
Captain Yates, the ultimate pain in his arse, couldn't resist smirking. He had suggested going left, picking their way through the line of abandoned cars and head towards the new shopping centre. He believed that's where the others would be holed up. Dallas had asked how he was even sure that any others had survived the initial battle but the s
mug bastard simply gave him that dazzling smile. The one that had seemed to even win over his own men, at least for a few seconds.
He sat down with his back to the van and gratefully accepted a bottle of warm water given to him by Henderson. "Thanks," he replied, after returning the bottle to the man. Henderson packed the bottle away and grabbed his rifle, as he leant against the side of the van. "Good shooting, by the way."
The soldier grinned. "Barbecued insect. All we need is a little soy sauce, some peppers and a keg of beer and we'd be sorted for the rest of the day."
"Do you ever stop thinking about your stomach, Henderson?"
The last member of their unit blew through his teeth in what sounded like annoyance to Dallas before the young NCO returned to lookout duty.
"Come on, you miserable sod. Don't pretend that you haven't imagined what they taste like. Okay, I'll be the first to admit that raw, their insides do look a bit like a cross between custard and frogspawn but, saying that, liver looks fucking gross until you cook it."
Corporal David Jenkins growled under his breath. "Captain, please can you tell that disgusting slob to shut his hole?"
Henderson just laughed. "Oh yeah? I'm guessing you have already forgotten about Bolivia then. I haven't. That fry up we had after a week of jungle training? You scoffed every bit of that repast. Crunching on those cooked bugs like they were finest nuts."
"We hadn't eaten for two days, you plank. That's completely different. That was survival."
Dallas allowed himself to get lost in amongst their banter. It actually brought a perverted sense of normality to this extraordinary situation. It reminded him of just how much shit they had been through in the past four years. Obviously, in previous incursions, their enemy were human, even so, if you put took out the fact that these buggers were basically six-foot cockroaches with intelligence and a shitty attitude, there really wasn't much to differentiate the insects from a bunch of brain-washed Jihadis armed with AK47s or Central American Drug dealers. Well, apart from the insects carried superior weaponry. That reminded him. "How's our inventory looking, Jenkins?"
"It's in a bit of a sorry state, sir. Even if the enemy sightings stay as light as they currently are, I don't think we're going to last more than a few hours. If they lead another assault, well," Jenkins shrugged. "A few minutes is the best I can offer."
“We would have had a little bit more ammo if you hadn't wasted our last hi-ex on killing the stone wall, soldier.”
Dallas could have quite happily shot that man in the face. That bastard had done it again. What was wrong with the man? Banter was all very well, it helped the men gel, to be a more effective fighting unit, but to throw out barbed comments like that did nothing but wind the men up, like they weren't already wound up tighter than a damned clock. Both Henderson and Jenkins didn't rise to the man which helped matters, even so, Dallas would have to have a quiet word with their new Captain at some point, if, that is, they managed to get out of this mess in one piece.
“So, it's obvious, we need to re-supply.”
“And I've been saying that from the get go!” snapped Yates. “Sooner rather than later too. Now, if we had gone with my plan, we would be halfway there already.” The young Captain climbed over Jenkins and peered around the side of the front of the van. “The route that I suggested is still clear.” he looked back at Dallas. “Well?”
“No way,” snapped Henderson. “You're not our Commander.” He pointed at Dallas. “He is. Besides, we have our orders.”
Captain Dallas noticed Jenkins nodding in confirmation, and as much as he wanted to disregard everything that vomited from the jumped-up little tosser's gob, right now, he might actually be correct. The safety of his men was paramount, even if it meant disobeying orders. He sighed. “Lead the way then, Captain.”
Christ, could the new addition to their diminished squad look any smugger? When the officer's back was turned, he shook his head at his men, hoping they'd take his signalling as a sign not to make any waves.
“I'm glad you reached the right decision,” said Yates. “I'm kinda surprised that you weren't already on your way.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I am still not sure why you were heading to the old market, old chap.”
Dallas glared at that sunny-side-up smile for a moment before returning to a neutral gaze. “I was simply following orders, Captain. We were to meet up and join Bravo Company. They were escorting survivors through the top part of the town, controlled by the enemy and needed back-up.”
“Right. Well, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Captain but Bravo company no longer exists. As for the survivors?” He shrugged. “We both know their fate.”
“Wait on!” cried Jenkins. “How the hell can you possibly know that? We've had no communication for hours now.”
Dallas half expected the Captain to give them another smug grin followed by a tap on the side of his nose, which might have really earned the bastard a bullet in his brain. Thankfully, at least for Yates, the man replied with a cryptic answer of having 'other means' of communication. Dallas let that lie, already aware that the Captain was no ordinary soldier. He'd already guessed he was special forces. His whole superior attitude was his biggest clue, that and the fact this joker actually knew who the enemy was.
“Good, now we're all singing from the same hymn book, let's get a move on. We don't have much time. The hatching will be well under way by now, meaning we could end up fighting hundreds more of the damned things.” He smiled his annoying smile. “And you thought the wildlife was bad enough? Believe me, that was just target practice compared to what's coming!”
Both Henderson and Jenkins looked at Dallas, obviously wanting answers that he was unable to give. He just shrugged, having no idea what this joker was prattling on about. It did confirm his suspicions that Yates did know far more about this situation than he'd been letting on. Dallas waited until the Captain was clearly out of earshot before calling Jenkins and Henderson over. “We'll follow him for the moment but the second it looks like he's trying to get us killed, we'll hold him down and beat the necessary info out of him. Deal?” He hadn't seen the pair smile so much.
Dallas caught up with the Captain who'd taken shelter behind a Ford Escort. He pointed to a clothes shop on the other side of the road.
“There's two of them hiding in there,” he whispered. “We need to take them out but without making any noise.” Yates nodded to an electronics store further on. “I think there's three more on the second floor. Any gunfire is bound to alert them to our presence.”
Dallas couldn't see any sign. He was about to ask if he was sure when something moved past one of the second floor windows. “Shit,” he muttered. Dallas grabbed Henderson. “Stay with the Captain. Keep quiet, keep out of sight and,” he glanced at Yates, “and behave yourself. Jenkins, you're with me.”
He doubled back, ran low along two cars, then raced over the road. Dallas popped his head over the boot of a grey Honda, saw nothing moving then gestured Jenkins to catch up. He crawled around the side of the car then threw himself into the alcove of a junk shop. According to Yates, their targets should be in the next shop. They were bound to be alert so they couldn't just walk in next door and hope the insects didn't notice them. Another method was needed. He tried the door. It was unlocked. Dallas silently entered the dark shop, waited for Jenkins to enter before he shut the door after him.
“You ready to skewer some tasty insect for Henderson's barbecue?”
“I'd rather stick that Captain. There's something about him that proper makes my skin crawl.” Jenkins silently moved through the shop and reached the window close to the counter. He pulled the blind down a crack. “Sorry, that was uncalled for. He is an officer, I suppose.”
Dallas joined him at the window. He saw the two men crouched behind the car as well as a couple of giant bugs in the distance. They weren't doing anything that could be perceived as a threat. It surprised him to find any of the really big ones left alive.
It was
those bugs which really ate up their supplies of ammunition, not the things that came after. Perhaps that snotty Captain out there had forgotten that bit. Perhaps, if that bastard had told them there and then that the giant bugs weren't the real problem then maybe his squad wouldn't be in this dire situation. Maybe his squad would still be complete. Dallas turned his attention back to the two soldiers for a moment before moving away from the window.
What else was that Captain hiding from them? Feeding him piecemeal if and when the snotty Captain felt like it was not classed as a transparent relationship. Dallas had his men, what was left of them, to look after, to stop them becoming dead, whereas he suspected Yates only cared about himself. In fact, Dallas was sure of this fact. That bastard would probably throw them all under the wheels of a bus if it meant saving his hide. This unhealthy line of thinking only ended with the one outcome. To remove the one factor in their unit which didn't fit. To whack Yates before he did the same to them.
“Sir, are you okay? You've gone a strange shade of cream.”
“I'm fine,” he replied. Dallas was far from fine. What the hell was wrong with him? The enemy was out there, the bad guys were quite recognisable this time. Dallas had sworn an oath to protect his country as well as honour the uniform and what he'd been contemplating would only lead to him getting shot as a traitor.
Did the obligation to protect his men outweigh the potential ramifications of hurting a fellow officer? After all, Dallas had no doubt that if Yates hadn't appeared on the scene, his unit would still be intact. Davis and Lovejoy wouldn't have ended up as beetle food.
Yates must have known the evolved insect soldiers would arrive yet this didn't stop him from warning his men to conserve their ammo. There they were killing those things like it was a turkey shoot at a carnival, believing that once the monsters were dead, they'd all receive medals and praise before heading home for a nice cup of tea. Those giant insects never stood a chance, not against their superior fire-power. Those hard insect shells might have deflected light rounds but armour-piercing bullets simply shredded their insides. Even the flyers, as frightening as they were, ended up spiralling out of the sky with the help of their trusty assault rifles. Hell, his men didn't even need to finish off the wounded. Their own did that for them.
