Renegade (The Kurgan War Book 7)

by Richard Turner

  Fifteen long minutes passed before Kurt returned. In his arms was a pile of dirt-encrusted uniforms, respirators, weapons, and a couple of comms devices.

  “Where the hell did you find all this?” asked Cole.

  “There’s a bomb crater just behind this warehouse,” replied Kurt. “I dug around and found several dead soldiers with most of their equipment still on them.”

  “What’s that God-awful smell?” asked Tarina, trying not to gag.

  “Rotting flesh,” remarked Sheridan.

  “Oh, this is beyond ghoulish,” said Wendy.

  “At least the radios still work,” announced Cole as he tinkered with them in his hands.

  “Well that solves one problem,” said Sheridan.

  Cole gave Wendy the second radio. “I’ll contact you via my radio when we’re ready to leave.”

  She slipped the radio in a pocket and smiled. “You’d better, Mister.”

  Cole took the rifles from Kurt and inspected them before handing them over to his friends. Although built a century ago, they weren’t fundamentally different than their modern assault rifles. Until someone found a way to power handheld phased weapons, the mainstay of the fighting soldier would remain small arms that fired caseless ammunition.

  “Take a few minutes to clean the muck and grime out of your rifles,” said Cole, “or they’ll jam the first time you go to use them.”

  Sheridan picked up a uniform and examined it. The clothing was a one piece camouflaged garment that fit the body loosely. There were no internal pockets to place shaped pieces of liquid body armor. Sheridan recalled that everything was mass produced with little or no regard to comfort or protection for the masses of conscripts fighting the conflict. The clothes were a combination survival suit and combat uniform which kept the contaminated air away from the wearer’s body. He held up one of the respirators and shook out some dirt. The black mask had a wide one-piece eye lens with two canisters, one on either side of the mask, to help protect the wearer from most of the chemical and biological agents being used by the Kurgans.

  Sheridan took a deep breath and removed his helmet. He fumbled with the respirator until it was snug on his face. The inside of the mask smelled of earth. Sheridan could hear his breathing through the gas canisters. Next, he stripped off his survival suit and crawled inside the soiled, camouflage coveralls. Sheridan was relieved to find the gloves fit his hands. The last thing he did was hide his old gear under a set of stairs.

  “I think they wore these things with the hoods up to help protect the head,” said Cole, pulling up the hood on Sheridan’s uniform.

  Like Sheridan, Cole had changed. His uniform had blood splattered across the chest.

  Kurt took his time changing as he didn’t need to worry about inhaling any of the toxic fumes.

  “You, gents, can turn around while we change,” said Tarina. “And no adolescent remarks from you, Michael Sheridan.”

  “We were going to stand sentry,” quipped Sheridan, turning his back.

  “How long do you think it’ll take us before we run into our forces?” Cole asked.

  “If we get going in the next few minutes, I’m sure we’ll bump into someone by daylight,” answered Sheridan.

  “Kurt, will you be able to identify the other robots even if they’ve changed their appearance?” asked Cole.

  “Yes. I’ll spot their heat signatures with the thermal imaging software I have built into my eyes.”

  “Can you see in the dark?”

  “Quite well.”

  “Good. You’re taking point when we leave.”

  “Okay, boys, you can turn around now,” announced Tarina.

  Sheridan spun around and saw her looking like a shapeless blob. Whoever’s uniform she had on was several sizes too large for her lithe frame. Wendy’s was no better.

  “Two minutes, folks,” said Cole, firmly.

  Sheridan walked to Tarina and took her hands in his. His heart ached. He wanted to kiss her lips one last time but was unable to with his mask covering his face. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

  “I will,” she replied. “That goes for you too.”

  “Hey, you know me. I’m always the careful one.”

  “Mike, I’ve visited you enough times in the hospital to know that’s a lie.”

  “Well, I do try.”

  Tarina titled her head and placed her faceplate against her husband’s. “Try harder.”

  “I will,” he said, blowing her a kiss.

  Tarina returned the affection, turned, and walked away to join Wendy who was shaking hands with Cole.

  Sheridan knew she was fighting back the tears. Hell, so was he.

  “See you in a few days,” said Wendy with a wave to the rest of the party as she and Tarina stepped out into the dark and headed east to the other shuttle.

  “Okay, let’s get moving,” said Sheridan. “Kurt, find us a safe way to our lines. Alan you take up the rear and let’s pray that the Kurgs don’t try anything tonight.”

  “You’re not expecting any trouble, are you?” Cole asked.

  “Before the big push to take the Sayan Highlands, the Kurgs launched several probes to pinpoint our defenses. I’d rather not be caught out in the open when a Kurgan regimental attack comes our way.”

  “Me too. Let’s go, Kurt.”

  Chapter 19

  The night seemed intolerably long. Less than fifteen minutes after they began their march, rain poured down on the three men trapped out in the open, soaking them to the bone.

  The harness on the back of Sheridan’s gas mask dug into his scalp, irritating him to no end. He wanted to rip the thing off his head and throw it away, but to do so would have invited death. Dark clouds of deadly vapor hung in the craters like mist coming up from some primordial ooze.

  “Down,” ordered Cole.

  Everyone dove for the muddy ground and froze in place. The sound of rain pelting their clothing was all they could hear.

  Out of the clouds dove a multi-winged drone.

  The cold rain helped dissipate but not completely hide the heat coming from the men’s bodies. The UAV hovered in the air above them as if it were hunting for something.

  Sheridan closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. At this range, the drone couldn’t miss.

  From somewhere in front of the men, a rocket shot out of the night and hit the drone, blasting off one of its wings. The UAV tumbled in the air until it hit the ground and exploded.

  “Keep still,” warned Cole. “Everyone and his dog will be looking this way for the next few minutes.”

  Sheridan let out a held breath and opened his eyes. Raindrops ran down the glass, blurring what he could see. It was an uncomfortable feeling being able to look at things only through the lens of his respirator.

  For close to thirty long, cold minutes, they laid as still as the dead.

  “Okay, I think we’re safe,” said Cole.

  “That’s good because I’ve got to piss,” griped Sheridan.

  “Just roll over and do it. Standing up to go would be very unwise.”

  Sheridan grumbled and rolled on his side. He had never been so relieved to go to the bathroom. When he was done, Sheridan crawled over to Cole’s side and wiped the rain and mud from his eyepiece so he could see. “Can you see something?”

  “Yeah,” responded Cole, pointing at a long row of barbed wire not ten meters away.

  “Jesus,” muttered Sheridan when he saw the bodies hanging from the wire. There were at least twenty bodies in various states of decomposition stuck on the wire obstacle. He recalled that after the Kurgans had resorted to using chemical weapons the conflict had rapidly changed from a mobile mechanized battle to one resembling wars of the past.

  “By the looks of them, they’re all Kurgs,” said Cole. “I wonder if there’s an old trench system nearby.”

  “Could be.” Sheridan waved Kurt over. “If you can’t find a way around, pick us a route through the wire using as much
of the low ground as you can.”

  The robot nodded and crawled forward on its belly to get a better look at the ground.

  Sheridan patted his friend on the arm. “What goodies did you bring along with you from the special warfare lab?”

  “There wasn’t much there,” replied Cole. “All I could get were a couple of insect-sized drones, and a centipede with a camera for eyes with an explosive charge in its tail for a bit of a sting.”

  “You never know when they may come in useful.”

  Kurt slid through the muck and stopped in front of Sheridan. “Sir, the only way forward is through a gap in the wire.”

  “I expected as much. Where is it?”

  “About twenty meters to the right.”

  “Okay, carry on but keep as low as possible.”

  The three men got up on their hands and knees and waded through a river of mud until they came to the wire. Sheridan was thankful he was wearing a mask or the stench from the rotting bodies would have quickly turned his stomach. The break in the wire proved to be a depression in the muck they had to swim through to get to the other side. Covered from head to toe in mud, they slid down into an abandoned trench system.

  Sheridan wiped the mud from his eyepiece and looked around.

  “Which way do you want me to go?” asked Kurt.

  “The command trenches will be further back,” pointed out Cole. “This could help lead us to our lines.”

  “Makes sense,” said Sheridan. “We’ll follow this trench until it turns or bends to the north. That should bring us closer to the heights.”

  “I wish Kurt had found some water bottles on those bodies,” said Cole. “I could use a drink right about now.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  In soupy mud deep enough to slide over the top of their boots, they trudged along in the dark for close to two hours before Sheridan signaled a stop. “I wonder how long the nights last here?” he mused.

  “It’s fall here, so it’s safe to assume about ten hours,” responded Cole.

  “We’ve been on the go for about four hours, so we’ve got plenty of night left to cover our movement.”

  “How’s your mask treating you?”

  “The back of my head feels like there’s a swarm of fire ants biting me for the fun of it.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “When?”

  “In a week or two.”

  “That’s too long. Hell, I don’t want to be here a week from now.”

  All of a sudden, Kurt grabbed Cole by the arm and squeezed it tight.

  “What the hell is that for?” moaned Cole.

  “There’s something in the trench with us,” whispered Kurt.

  Sheridan leaped to his feet and peered out into the dark but couldn’t see a thing in the pouring rain. “What is it?”

  “Some kind of scavenger, I think. I don’t have anything like it in my databanks.”

  “How far away is it, and has it spotted us?” asked Cole.

  “It’s about twenty meters away and is gnawing on the remains of a Kurgan warrior.”

  “I can’t see it. What does it look like?”

  “It’s a worm of some sort with a large maw and limbs down its body to help it move on the surface,” described Kurt.

  “How big is the bastard?”

  “About four to five meters long.”

  Sheridan broke out in a cold sweat imagining the horrid creature ripping pieces of putrid flesh to eat. “Let’s hope there aren’t any more around here.”

  “We didn’t see any the way we came,” said Cole. “Perhaps we should go back that way?”

  “Wait,” said Kurt. He moved past the two Marines and looked back down the trench line. “We’re stuck. There’s another one wrapped around a body about fifteen meters back.”

  “They only seem to like dead meat, so we should be safe for now,” said Sheridan, trying to make it sound like good news.

  “No, I don’t think that’s an accurate assessment,” said Kurt. “I’ve spotted another one, and it’s looking right at us.”

  Sheridan swore. He didn’t want to open fire on the worms and draw attention to themselves, nor did he want to be eaten alive. Before he could make up his mind what to do next, the creatures struck. The one that had detected their presence let out a wet hiss from its gaping maw and scampered straight toward them.

  Cole saw it coming, brought up his rifle, and fired off a burst into what he assumed was the creature’s head. The worm, struck multiple times, stopped and slithered off looking for a safe place to hide.

  The two other scavengers heard the gunfire and raced down the trench, intent on bringing down their prey. Sheridan never saw his target. He heard it coming, picked a spot on the ground, and pulled back on his trigger. The worm ran into the hail of bullets and died a few seconds later at Sheridan’s feet. The other attacker was brought down by Kurt who emptied an entire magazine into the writhing creature before it stopped moving.

  As if their luck wasn’t already bad enough, the night turned as bright as day as a dozen flares popped open above them, illuminating the world beneath them.

  “Run!” shouted Cole, pushing Sheridan and Kurt down the battered trench system. Within seconds, mortar rounds began falling. The area they had been standing in vanished in a hail of high explosive shells. They kept running until the trench turned sharply to the north. Cole stopped and stepped aside for Kurt to check the way ahead.

  Aside from some destroyed ammo crates, the way ahead looked clear.

  With Kurt leading, they jogged down the trench completely aware that there could be more scavengers hunting them. The rain began to abate. At the far end, they came to a bunker that had been hit by several large caliber artillery shells and blown to pieces.

  Sheridan crawled through the debris and looked toward the Sayan Highlands. The ridge looked like a dark, foreboding wall as far as the eye could see. He waved for Kurt to join him. “Can you see a safe path leading to the heights?”

  The robot studied the ground for a few seconds before nodding. “It may take a while as it’s not very direct, but I think I can get us there safely.”

  “Sounds good. Lead on.”

  For close to an hour, they crawled, slithered, and moved on all fours through shell craters, mud-filled holes, and depression in the churned-up battlefield. When they were within eyesight of an abandoned gun pit, Kurt brought up his hand to stop the group.

  “What gives?” asked Sheridan, barely above a whisper.

  “I thought I saw someone moving around just the west of us,” responded Kurt.

  “How far away would you say they were?”

  “Thirty meters, maybe.”

  “Human or Kurgan?” asked Cole.

  “I couldn’t tell. I just saw their body heat for a fleeting second.”

  “We always expected there to be patrols out here,” said Sheridan. “I say we keep moving but keep a close eye on them. If they try to close in with us, we may have to deal with them the old-fashioned way.”

  “Agreed,” said Cole, placing his hand on his bayonet.

  “Carry on, Kurt.”

  The robot looked for the next spot to move to and proceeded to crawl on his hands and knees.

  Sheridan, next in line, saw a bright flash and then felt the full force of the impact as a mine buried in the ground detonated, tearing Kurt apart. His body parts flew up into the night sky before raining back down. Sheridan bowled over by the blast gasped for air. His chest felt as if an angry mule had kicked him and his ears rang like church bells on a Sunday morning. The next thing Sheridan knew, Cole was dragging him back into a muck-filled crater.

  Sheridan saw Cole’s lips moving but didn’t hear a word.

  All of a sudden, multiple red dots appeared on both of their bodies.

  Cole sat up and looked over at a group of soldiers walking toward them with their rifles trained on them.

  “Don’t move a muscle,” warned one of the soldiers. The man was
a squad leader. He pointed at the two Marines. A couple of troopers slid into the crater and confiscated Cole’s and Sheridan’s weapons.

  “Most deserters try sneaking through the Kurg lines, not their own,” said the squad leader.

  “We’re not deserters,” replied Cole. “In fact, we were trying to make it back to our lines when our comrade regrettably activated a mine and was killed.”

  “Whatever, you can tell the MPs your story when you see them.”

  Cole reached down and helped Sheridan to his feet. He looked into his friend’s eyes and nodded. He hoped Sheridan would understand that things weren’t as bad as they looked.

  “Follow Private Francis,” said the squad leader to Cole, pointing at a soldier kneeling in the mud.

  Cole indicated for his comrade to stay close behind him. Together, they followed the soldier down into an undamaged trench system. After a couple of minutes of walking, they came to a set of stairs which led underground. The wooden stairs were slick with mud and Cole almost fell on Francis a couple of times before they got to the bottom. A long, darkened corridor led into the rock of the Sayan Highlands. At the end of the passage, the patrol met several armed guards who checked their clothing for traces of radiation and chemical agents. Cole and Sheridan were separated from the soldiers and taken inside a room where they were sprayed down with a firehose that discharged cold soapy water. After that, their uniforms were removed and a couple of people in suits came out and scrubbed down their naked bodies. The last thing to be removed were their gas masks which were taken and dunked in a vat of disinfectant agents before being handed back to the Marines. Their wet garments were returned to them to be put on.

  “How’s your hearing?” Cole asked Sheridan as he slipped on his damp uniform.

  Sheridan looked back and shook his head.

  A sergeant entered the room. In his hand was a scanner. He walked over and ran the device over the rank tabs on the collars of the uniforms the men were wearing. “Privates Marshall and Hill, you were reported MIA over a week ago. Where’s the rest of your patrol?”

  “They’re dead, Sergeant,” said Cole.

  “And you two have been out there in no-man’s land for a week all by yourselves?”