by Vance Huxley
“Yes, maybe. Not sure. I can still use my arm but it’s hit.”
“Step into the doorway so we can stop the blood, we don’t want a trail.” Or Siflis bleeding out but showing concern openly wasn’t what Troopers did. A quick look using a glo-light and the wound wouldn’t kill the scout, though he wouldn’t be using a knife in a serious fight with that arm.
“I can use a notsi pistol with that hand.” Siflis knew the score. “Wait one and I’ll check ahead.”
“Not until we’re off this street because the place is coming alive.” Lights were coming on in the flats and voices were shouting questions as the four of them ran along close to the wall.
“There’s bodies out there!”
“Who’s shooting?”
“Is it the Aliens?”
“Look out!”
As they dodged round the corner someone shouted “It’s the Bellamy’s. Someone’s topped them. All of them!” The noise behind grew. Ahead the glow showed clearly now and Bobby tried to work out how near the base the fire was. Too near he thought so he’d have to go around and come in from the back.
“Alley to the left.” Bobby pointed and Siflis headed that way as the rest crept from shadow to shadow. There were more shouts in the night but a lot of them were aimless, just slogans, and none were about four Troopers. Behind them, well behind, an outbreak of gunfire sounded followed by the thud of grenades. Bobby took a moment to send the code for his position and that he’d been spotted. There were more shouts about Aliens which seemed weird.
Siflis gestured to the trio before darting across the road and into the alley. They followed without raising an alarm. Siflis signed quickly, to follow to the end then across the next street to the next alley. A shout went up as Bells reached the second alley, but no shooting. They ran like hell but the first shot chased them even as Siflis reached the end. “Keep going Siflis.” Another shot whined off the wall. “You too Bells, there’s no cover.” The cursing from behind became more profane and louder.
“Trouble!” Siflis shouted back but kept running. He emptied a notsi pistol then aimed a second while pulling his carbin off his shoulder with his wounded arm. Shite!
“Keep going, blow through.” They’d got no shelter in the alley at all, and the gunman behind couldn’t keep missing. Bobby caught a glimpse of a dark opening nearly opposite. “Straight across and hole up.” Hood came out of the alley as well, shooting to the side from the hip. The big rifle went onto his back before Hood emptied the Pleb special up the street in a continuous roar.
Plenty of fire came back raising dust from the brickwork, concrete and the road. As Bobby came round the corner he saw Hood stagger then limp onwards, reaching for his big rifle again. Bobby raised his carbin, spraying the clip into the chaos on top of a rough barricade. The squad had come out well behind it, their pistols and flechettes catching the defenders by surprise. Now some were still trying to scramble over, while others were scrambling back because they were being shot at from the other side. For a moment Bobby thought they could break through to whoever was over there.
Then more Plebs poured out of the doorways each side of the barrier and started shooting at Beebi’s Basteds. “Get into that doorway opposite!” More of the survivors on the barricade were shooting back as the Basteds crossed the road, staggering from hits though mostly lightweight flechettes. The whines and sparks off the concrete road and buildings meant that the incoming included some heavier stuff. Bobby emptied another clip. Some of the Plebs fell, but others staggered and kept coming. “They’ve got jackets. Use notsi.”
Siflis reached the doorway, kneeling to steady his carbin. The aimed bursts weren’t as long but men crumpled as the heavier rounds punched through their protection. Not enough even when Hood’s rifle boomed, throwing his targets backwards into those following. “Open the door Hood. Borrow Bells’ Kraut.” A wordless complaint followed but Bells threw the little automatic, before raising his carbin.
“Locked, Beebi.”
“Break it.” The Super said break anything necessary, and the squad had to get off this street.
Hood grunted, followed by a loud crack. “Lock’s bust, but there’s bolts. I’ll have to kick it in.” Bolts were illegal since the corporations had the right of entry to their housing blocks, and over-rides for the door locks.
The complaint from Bells this time would be because he enjoyed breaking things, and Hood had got the job. “Keep your mind on the problem up the street Bells.” Between Siflis, Bells and Bobby, all firing solid rounds or heavyweight flechettes, the Plebs had slowed up. Now the mass still crept forward close to the buildings but with more care and none went out into the street, out where their comrades were still writhing and screaming. Some Plebs had captured Trooper jackets someplace, but hadn’t taken the trousers.
The noise from the attackers outside muffled the crash as the door went in, followed by two sharp cracks and the ripping noise of the Kraut. Hood grunted and cursed. “You Oke Hood?”
“One in the thigh, but the jacket stopped the other. Shite, I’ve just killed a bledrin Granny!” Hood sounded really shocked. They’d all shot women, or sometimes stabbed them if the bitches got too close, but not usually a granny.
“She fired first. Can you clear the hall?”
“Yeah, hang on.” The door scraped before Hood moved into the darkness beyond.
Bobby put in another clip. Shite, he only had four left and three were standard. “Slow up and take single shots, or triple bursts. No auto.”
“There’s hundreds of ‘em coming out of the block opposite. We’ll be proper pooched if they get close enough to rush.”
“Just do it Bells. I’ve got something for that, and so has Siflis I reckon.” Siflis glanced back, startled, then gave a guilty shrug and went back to shooting Plebs. Behind them the Kraut buzzed briefly. “Any time this year would be good, Hood. Especially right now.”
“Last door.” Clattering sounded over the gunfire. “Shite! Broom cupboard. We’re clear but there’s two corridors and if someone chucks burning crap down the stairs we’ll fry.”
“Everyone in. Hood, use that rifle on anyone showing a head up the stairs. Siflis, Bells, take a corridor each.” Bobby headed for the broom cupboard. Disinfectant, bleach, ah, he sniffed the stench of rotgut booze coming through the industrial cleaners. As usual the caretaker had an illegal still or peddled someone else’s rotgut. First though, Bobby took some mops and brooms over to the broken door to jam it shut.
“We’re trapped, Beebi. They’ll run all over us.”
“Stop panicking Bells. We won’t be here long. Just long enough to leave a surprise.” Bobby went into the caretaker’s office and the two flats opening off the hall. He collected every bottle or can that would burn fast or explode when hot and chucked them into the hall, including any in the broom cupboard. The lifts might still work but Hood dragged the granny and the caretaker across, using them to jam the doors open.
Hood fired once and Bells twice before Bobby finished. Behind the entrance door, braced with a broom handle for now, he could hear a crowd gathering. “Hood, give Bells the Kraut and keep watching the stairs. Right you pair, listen up. When I kick away the broom handle, the door will open because someone is pushing.” Bobby waved his biggest notsi. “Put a fresh clip in the Kraut, and you put a full standard clip in your carbin, Siflis. Empty the lot into the crowd out there and they’ll break.”
“What if they don’t.” Sometimes it would be nice if Bells believed in things working out well.
“Then Siflis uses his little something, and then they will.” Siflis nodded in agreement and waved the grenade at Bells before stowing it again. Bells nodded, then stared at Bobby.
“Sodin hell, Beebi, what’s that?”
“Sawn-off single barrelled shotgun. Easier to hide than one like Sarge’s.” Finally, Bells’ face broke into a happy smile. He believed in shotguns. “Ready?” They both nodded. “Three, two, one.” Bobby kicked the broom handle sideways and
it skittered away as he stepped back. The door flew open under the pressure and at least three men staggered in. Before they could recover the two automatics threw them back into the crowd before chewing into the packed figures. As the carbins fell silent, Bobby pulled the trigger.
The roar of the shotgun briefly drowned the screams and cries of panic and then the survivors were trying to scramble clear. The two automatics opened up again, chopping down even more. Bobby managed to get off a second round as the doorway emptied, of standing figures at least. Bells lunged forward with his blades raised to finish off anyone still moving. Siflis went straight in there with him until the screaming and moaning died out. Bobby watched with a big pistol in case a wounded someone had the smarts to use a weapon.
“Now what?” Bells had started panting again, but the action had cured his nerves.
“Grab any weapons and ammo, especially carbin clips, then chuck enough bodies out to shut the door.”
“They’ll be ready next time.” Siflis took a peek round the corner of the doorway and let off a couple of triple bursts up the street. “They’re already gathering again.”
Bobby tossed his own grenade up and down. “We won’t be here. Hood, make a Molotov with one of those bottles of rotgut, and toss it up the stairs. Throw a couple of jackets or something that burns up there first. You two, help me to shove the door shut again.” The door scraped because the pushing from outside or Hood’s kick had twisted the hinges.
Broom handles and mops were soon jammed against the floor and the door to keep it closed. It would be a better job this time, because Bells produced a small hatchet to make holes in the inner door and floor for the ends. Bobby and Siflis exchanged smiles because the amount of sharp steel Bells carried had become a standing joke, though handy sometimes. A crash and flickering light from behind signalled Hood’s Molotov. “It won’t catch, because the stairs are concrete and steel.” Hood sounded disappointed.
“No, but it’ll stop anyone getting nosy until after the door goes in.” Bobby looked at the heap of flammables and canisters. “We need more. Get the furniture from the flats and the caretaker’s office.”
Hood cursed, followed by a boom as he fired. “It won’t stop the nosy basteds along the corridors.”
“No, but we’ll be gone soon. You can keep that lot in their rooms while we go the other way, if we leave a clear view for you to shoot through.” The furniture started arriving and Bobby splashed rotgut on it, then some stain remover that smelled flammable. The caretaker’s shoes provided laces for Bobby to tie his grenade to the door handle. He hung a plastic can of cleaner fluid up as well.
Bells threw a chair on the heap. “The grenade will only stop the first few.”
“When the door comes in this should set something on fire as well as blowing the shite out of whoever is first. Eight seconds means they’ll be well inside when it goes off.” Bobby tied a lace to the pin, and then around the wrecked bolt loop on the doorpost. “When the burning fluid spatters the furniture will go up. With luck we’ll break contact.”
“Which way?”
“Towards the friendlies the other side of that barricade. We’ll come out the other end of this block.” Bobby waved to the corridor in question.
“What about the residents, the ones along this corridor? They’ll come out behind us.” Bells had gone back to his usual gloomy self.
Bobby grinned and waved a big plastic lump on a chain. “Caretaker’s lockdown. I’ll seal them in as we pass or shoot them with this if anyone comes out ahead of us.” Bobby waved the silenced pistol. “We don’t want anyone outside realising we’ve gone this way.”
“I’d better stay this end then. If I shoot someone they’ll hear it.” Hood gestured at his rifle.
“Towards this end. About a third of the way up will be near enough. After all, you don’t want too far to run once the grenade goes off.” Bobby looked round. “All loaded? All set?”
* * *
The squad almost reached the other end of the block before they heard a savage roar as the attackers breached the doorway. Three or four seconds later Hood’s rifle boomed, killing one of the leaders to keep the rest cautious and penned up in the entrance. Hood started running as soon as he fired so when the grenade went off he stayed clear of the burning debris. Even Bells looked happy at the resulting conflagration or possibly the screaming that went with it. By then Siflis reached the end of the corridor. He glanced both ways and signalled all clear.
Bobby passed the caretaker’s override to Bells and went ahead. “Both doors are still bolted so they’ll be locked. We can get clean away.” Siflis looked left.
“No, we go that way, right. The plebs left on that barricade are still shooting at someone who’s shooting back, so we join forces. Sodit, I forgot.” Bobby had forgotten about the Super and the rest of the unit. He tapped the coms with a call-sign. The throat buzzer started soon afterwards, and went on for a while.
Bells must have read some of it from Bobby’s face. “I hope that isn’t orders to come back and get them.”
“We couldn’t anyway. The rest are in it, and deep enough to be blowing bubbles. Half the bledrin Plebs in the complex are on the streets and they’ve got real weapons, though we know that. The Super says the prats think we’re here to disarm them all because they’ve been sold to Aliens.” Bobby snorted. “No need to look at me like that, it’s what the Super said.”
Siflis laughed. “That’s from the black news. The real reports say something has been found out in the asteroids, and it might be alien or advanced tech from the Age of Space. Everyone is supposed to work extra hard to help build the kit to look properly.” Bells sneered and Siflis shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. When I was a nipper I read a story about finding an old space capsule, a true story. Now I play space games so I still notice this sort of shite. Anyway, the black news has got it all twisted as usual.”
“They believe that, the black news? The official news is unbelievable enough, but that stuff is put out by glue sniffers and main-line shooters.” Bells spat to make his opinion clear.
Bobby shrugged. “Well this lot believe it. The message from the Super is we’re on our own, and I don’t think four of us will be enough to survive. We link up with whoever is over the barricade.”
“OK Beebi, you’re the brains. How do we do it?” Hood limped up and Bobby filled him in, quickly. Once Hood had finished cursing, Bobby gave them the plan, such as it was. “We go through that door and kill whoever is still on that barricade. Use triple bursts and aim, don’t spray. The rest of the Plebs are trying to get past the fire because the stupid shites are still chasing us and all the downstairs windows have steel bars. We pick up all the ammo we can on the barricade and leg it over the top but Bells, remember to collect ammo.”
“Yeah, I’ve only got one carbin clip left.” Which was why Bobby had reminded him. Bells used as much ammo as the rest put together on most missions. Bells hunted through his pockets and pouches. “I’ve got the Kraut, four notsi pistols and ammo.”
“Two notsi clips and most of one standard flechettes, one clip in a pistol and a spare, a couple of flares, and my grenade.” Siflis didn’t need to check, he always kept track of his ammo. “I’ve got a selection of notsi here from the bodies in the doorway.” A quick check showed a spare carbin, five clips, five pistols and a fistful of assorted ammo.
“Five notsi and four frangible clips for the rifle, five standard for the carbin.” Hood pulled out the revolver. “This is dry but I’ve got a semi with fifteen in it.” Hood always used the least carbin ammo, preferring to stick to the rifle.
“Here, I’ve got ammo for that.” Bells reloaded the revolver and stuck it in Hood’s belt. “I’ve got lots of ammo for notsi pistols, and seven clips for the Kraut. Nearly eight.” Bells looked defensive. “They’re light and it uses a lot, so I carry a lot.”
“Hood, give Bells three clips for his carbin, and use yours. When it’s empty you can go back to the rifle.” Hood
pulled a face but reorganised. “Bells, take three of those extra clips from Siflis, and try to make them last.” Bobby took an extra notsi pistol from the loot, loaded and sorted out a couple of clips. “Remember, triple bursts to save ammo. Let’s do it.” He tried not to smile as Bells stuffed the two pistols without ammo in his pack.
* * *
The twenty plus Pleb fighters on the barricade, concentrating on the enemy over the top of it, died in confusion. The squad rushed into their positions, quickly searching for carbin clips. Bobby stuffed some into Hood’s pouches. “Use your rifle to slow that lot up.” That lot meant the bloody great mob around the original doorway. They’d actually managed to rip out the bars on a window and people were being boosted in through there when a shout went up. Heads turned towards the squad, then a few weapons.
Unfortunately, there might be more angry Plebs heading towards the squad than flechettes to kill them. Bobby scrambled into a vacated firing position, looked over the barricade, and cursed as he saw the four vehicles in the square beyond. The basted Plebs must have either got hold of anti-armour rockets or a bledrin cannon. The heavy machine guns on the turrets of three armoured cars were only firing short bursts, which worried Bobby given the number of targets creeping closer.
Bobby looked at the state of the four vehicles. One laid on its back and the rest had lost tracks so the Plebs used mines. He glanced back. Shite! “Hood, get up here with your cannon. Siflis, Bells, go full auto for a bit and stop those basteds. There’s a problem.”
“What!” Bells screamed it, looking back and forth for a way out. “I knew it, I knew it! We’re all gonna cark it!”
“I’ll do it for you if you don’t shut up. Hood’s going to deal with the problem.” Not really, but Bells going viral just now would pooch them all. Bobby lowered his voice. “Can you start killing the ambitious, the ones out front?” Hood stared at the scene.
“I haven’t got enough rounds, Beebi.”
“Target rich environment, Hood. Use the frangibles up first.” At least that brought a small smile to the big man’s face, briefly. “I want those Plebs to stop, maybe pull back a bit while they try to figure out what’s happening. Then we get to link up.”
