The Shadow Order - Books 1 - 8 + 120 Seconds (The complete series): A Space Opera

by Michael Robertson

  As if to confirm Reyes’ thoughts, the WO pressed his face to the small window in the door. “They ain’t getting in.”

  The creatures looked like they’d accepted it already. They stepped away from the downed ship. They could be patient. The Commandos would have to come back out at some point.

  Other than the WO, no one else spoke. Heavy breaths, the occasional cough, and groans of exhaustion filled the shuttle; then Reyes saw it. “WO,” she said.

  The same heavy scowl he always wore turned on her. He looked like he’d knock her out.

  “You’re bleeding.” She pointed down. The trouser leg covering his shin had turned dark with his blood.

  Silence swept through the downed ship as everyone turned to the WO.

  After he’d lifted his trouser leg, he shrugged and pulled it back down again. “One of the fuckers clipped me.”

  “Clipped you?” Reyes said. “I just saw your shin bone. Let me help.” She moved towards him.

  “I think you’ve helped enough, don’t you?”

  Before Reyes could say anything else, the WO turned to Carlile, who stood closest to the radio. “Call the Crimson Destroyer and tell them to cancel that evac. We need to work out how we get past these fuckers before they come down to rescue us.”

  When the WO sat down, he let out a deep sigh and stretched his leg out in front of him.

  “Are you sure I can’t help?” Reyes asked him.

  Another hard glare and the WO shook his head before closing his eyes. “Yours is the kind of help I could do without.”

  Chapter 7

  Now. Eleven dead.

  Reyes looked at the bloodstains on the WO’s trouser leg and sighed. He’d been hurt days ago, yet it still glistened with fresh blood. If she hadn’t fallen over, he’d have been okay. Although, they’d still have to rush to get off the planet. They didn’t have any water left and it showed in the sluggish movements of some of the troops. Thirst would probably kill them all before his infection got him. Either way, they needed to do something.

  When Reyes lifted her eyes, she met the WO’s steely, almost grey stare. In his cold appraisal she saw something most people didn’t; she saw the crack in his confidence. The crow’s feet spoke of the torture he’d put himself through every time he lost a Commando. Years of active duty had eaten away at him. Too much sadness for even his broad shoulders to bear.

  “Look,” she said, just as the clatter of boots ran into the shuttle.

  Austin’s face dripped with sweat. She nodded at Reyes and handed her the two torches she’d collected. Reyes placed them in the centre of the floor.

  Another look at the WO and Reyes let their conversation go. She turned back to Austin. “Good work.”

  Austin didn’t reply, her mouth stretched wide as she pulled heavy breaths into her body. She leaned forward and rested her hands on her knees, sweat falling from her face to the steel floor.

  A pat on the woman’s back before Reyes returned to the shuttle’s door and aimed her gun at the yellow pile of rocks outside. Not long left.

  Although she kept her gun trained on the monster, Reyes turned her attention to the remaining six Commandos out in the desert.

  “You need to call Federichi back,” the WO said.

  The sun damn near blinded Reyes to look out into the desert, but she continued to watch the Commandos, her eyes streaming from the glare. “We need those torches.”

  “And you’ll let them die for them?”

  “I didn’t ask Federichi to hang about out there. I think she’s making sure the monsters don’t spring up. And if they do, I think she wants to be ready to take them down to save the others.”

  “But she’s going to get herself killed.”

  “I didn’t ask her to do that. And you know what, she’s making the choice. I’m sure she won’t want to be told what to do by a rookie. As the leader out there, she has the right to decide how to handle their mission.” As Reyes spoke, Federichi finally made a run for Jones’ body. Still a good one hundred metres away from him, she’d best look lively if she wanted to get there and back before the two minutes were up.

  When Simpson returned to the shuttle next, putting her two torches on the two already on the floor, Reyes patted her on the back. The shuttle shook when Simpson fell into her seat beside Austin, her face aglow with perspiration. Like Austin, she had nothing to say at that moment.

  While leaning forward to look out of the door, the WO shook his head as he watched Federichi. “She’s not going to make it.”

  But she’d nearly arrived at her man. Even if Reyes did call her back, she wouldn’t come. A glance at the timer and she chewed on her bottom lip. The rocks by the door remained static.

  Singh entered the shuttle next. It took a second for Reyes to work out the pale look on her face, but after she’d put her torch down on the growing pile, she stumbled across the shuttle and vomited in the corner into the bucket they’d all pissed in.

  “Fucking hell, love,” Patel shouted at her as he jumped away from the splash back.

  While wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve, Singh looked up at him. “It’s fucking grim out there. It’s hot, I’m thirsty and exhausted, and I have to look at what those things have done to our team.” She raised her eyebrows at the wheel in Patel’s hands. “It’s a lot harder than opening a damn door.”

  After he’d pulled a face at her, Patel said, “You’re not the only one who has to look at what those things have done. Also, you’re not the only one who’s had to run out there.”

  “Well, fuck me for not having an iron stomach.” Singh pointed an angry finger at the torch she’d just retrieved. “I did what I was sent out to do and I did more than you, so why don’t you shut the hell up, yeah?”

  “Stop!” Reyes said and they both looked at her. “I know you two don’t get on, but save it for when we’re back on the Crimson Destroyer, yeah? Whatever went on between you two isn’t important enough to jeopardise this mission.”

  The argument might have continued, but Reyes didn’t hear it anymore. Another glance at the clock on the wall and she called out of the ship, “Federichi, you have thirty seconds.”

  Chapter 8

  Four days ago. One dead.

  Anxiety twisted through Reyes’ stomach to look out of the shuttle. She kept her attention on the monsters as she said, “They’re clearly strong.” The way they walked with their heavy gaits and sweeping head movements. “I’m not sure I’ve encountered anything quite as powerful as these things.”

  “You’ve not met Moses,” Jones said.

  No, but she’d heard of him. Another look at the creatures and Reyes said, “And they’re smart.”

  The WO’s eyes flashed open. They’d been closed for some time as if he’d gone into himself to deal with the pain in his leg. But now he’d roused himself, he addressed her with his loud and booming voice. It went off in the small space like an explosion. “Smart?”

  As often happened, when the WO turned his attention on her, the rest of the crew did the same. A quickened pulse and shallow breaths racked Reyes as she shrugged. “Well, what I mean is, they’ve already worked out they can’t get in here, so they’ve stopped trying. That shows some cognitive skill, right?”

  A hard scowl and the WO sneered at her. “A dog knows its limitations. That doesn’t mean I’d give it a doctorate. How do you know they’re smart? They look like dumb brutes driven by their need to kill.”

  Reyes opened her mouth to reply, but Henry stepped in. “I think she’s right. I think those things are saving their energy. They know we have to come out at some point, and it would seem they’re more than happy to wait.”

  The space below the WO’s left eye twitched as he looked from Reyes to Henry and back to Reyes again. Pain, anger, revulsion … hard to tell. It didn’t matter how long she’d known him for, she’d never been able to read his mood. A failing that often yielded explosive reactions.

  Reyes didn’t wait for the WO to speak. Instead,
she turned her attention back outside. Three of the things remained close to the shuttle’s door. Henry had been spot on. They were waiting for them. The mice had to come out of their hole at some point.

  The beasts paced back and forth on the desert ground. Reyes could almost feel their heavy footsteps through the shuttle as they slammed them down with each stride. Small clouds of sand kicked up from the impact of their steps.

  Occasionally, one of the beasts would stop by the window and peer in. Reyes couldn’t help but pull back from their crimson glare. Deep red orbs. Blood red. They swirled with an intensity she couldn’t connect to. Hatred would be something, but she couldn’t attach any human emotion to the creatures.

  The silence in the shuttle showed Reyes the others probably felt the same. Such an intimidating sight, the beasts were the boss and they all knew it, regardless of the WO’s reaction. Or maybe because of his reaction; he seemed rattled. They all were.

  After the creature pulled away, Reyes looked at the pile of sand they’d buried Adoteng beneath. It remained untouched. Thankfully the beasts hadn’t found her yet. No doubt they would at some point.

  “So what do you all think?” the WO said, cutting through the tension as he breathed heavily to ride out the pain in his leg.

  “I think you should wash that wound out,” Reyes said.

  “And waste water?”

  Heat flushed Reyes’ cheeks. She’d not thought about that.

  “Exactly,” the WO shot back and then looked at the others. “Sorry to state the obvious, but it would seem the rookie needs it.” A look at Reyes and he spoke slow, condescending words. “We need to ration all the drinking water because we have a finite amount and we don’t know how long we’re going to be here for. It would be pretty selfish of me to wash my cut out, wouldn’t it?”

  Because the ship’s power had gone out, the air-conditioning had failed too. The heat felt like it had doubled and continued to rise. Perspiration ran down Reyes’ temples as she fought to hold back her reply. Other than petulance, she had nothing useful to offer.

  Jones never said much. If he had done, maybe he would have been WO instead of platoon sergeant. One of the fiercest Commandos Reyes had met, they called him the weapon. But he wasn’t leader material. His borderline contempt for military hierarchy only served to thicken his self-imposed glass ceiling. The fight mattered and nothing else. On the flip side, whenever he spoke, people listened. “I say we go out there.” He pulled a grenade from his belt and held it up. “I reckon they’ll explode like almost anything else does.”

  “You want to do it?” the WO asked.

  Jones had a way about him where he could nod without nodding. Reyes didn’t see any movement in the man, but he made his assertion clear.

  “Okay.” Another several deep breaths as he clearly managed his discomfort, the WO then looked around. “Who’s going out with him?”

  “I will,” Reyes said.

  The rest of the team stared at her and silence swept through the space.

  Reyes’ voice rose in pitch when she defended herself. “I can do it.”

  The WO looked at the others as if Reyes hadn’t spoken. “Anyone?”

  Henry stepped up first. “I’ll go.”

  A second later, Martins and Campbell stepped forward too. Neither of them spoke, their faces pale despite the sweat running down them.

  After nodding, the WO pointed at three more Commandos. “Rousseau, Smith, and Huat, you lay down covering fire to get them as far from the shuttle as they need to go. I want you to be ready to keep their retreat clear of those things. Got it?”

  Each Marine nodded as they slipped their flak vests on and picked up their guns. No one else spoke.

  Before someone could shove her aside, Reyes moved out of the way of the door and sat down on the bench next to it. There seemed little point in arguing. They didn’t want her out with them. Already embarrassed enough, she didn’t need to beg.

  Patel walked over to the door handle again. He watched Jones for the nod. It came, imperceptible as always, but it came.

  Reyes struggled to focus on Patel’s arms because of how quickly they spun.

  Where Reyes expected to feel relief from the outside air, the heat from the desert rushed into the space and lifted the temperature higher. The grunts and snorts from the creatures rode on the back of the stifling heat. A whiff of sweat—not human in any way—she turned her nose up at the stench. Vile things.

  When the gap in the door opened to about a foot wide, one of the creatures flew at the vessel and the entire shuttle shifted from the impact. It pushed its yellow snout into the gap. Thick, snotty saliva dribbled from its square lizard chin as it snapped at the air between it and the Commandos. Its breath smelled like a cesspool.

  All the Commandos pulled away from the door, all of them but Rousseau. She snapped her gun up and ripped off a shot into the beast’s face.

  Reyes flinched from the blast, her ears ringing as the shot thrust the large creature backwards. When she peered through the gap, she saw the hole in its face where it lay dead, staring up at the sky.

  Two more beasts stood close by. As they looked over, Rousseau opened fire on them. They raised their arms in front of their faces and stepped back from her assault.

  It gave Jones and his crew an opening, so they slipped out of the ship and ran out into the cove while Rousseau kept pushing them back with her onslaught.

  Once Jones and his small crew had run about fifty metres away, Rousseau stopped shooting, the beasts driven much farther away from the shuttle than they had been. All of the remaining Commandos—including Reyes—got to their feet to stare out of the door. Patel remained on the handle, ready to spin it shut at a moment’s notice.

  They watched Jones lead Henry, Martins, and Campbell out into the desert. Second in command only to the WO, he carried a grenade in each large hand as he ran. He had his gun strapped to his back, but he didn’t look like he’d use it.

  The beasts near the shuttle might have been forced back momentarily, but they soon found their confidence again. Especially when the other creatures joined them. They came from all around the cove as they closed in on Jones and his team.

  Rousseau, Smith, and Huat jumped out of the shuttle. They did their best to attack the creatures, lighting the air up with green blasts.

  It seemed ineffective now that the monsters were farther away, and became utterly useless when three of the creatures got between them and Jones’ crew. Their solid rock backs provided a shield the green blasts couldn’t penetrate.

  “Damn it,” the WO said as he watched on. “They’ve cut them off.”

  “Why are they going so far out?” Smith asked.

  A valid question. The blast radius of a grenade meant they only needed to be about ten metres from the shuttle at the most. But they’d already dragged a line of fifteen beasts past the space where they’d buried Adoteng about one hundred metres away.

  Jones then circled around a large stone pillar another fifty metres on, pulling all of the beasts on his tail with him.

  “He wants a clear run back to the shuttle,” the WO said.

  If the WO was right, the plan looked like it might work. All of the monsters had followed them, giving them a free run back. As long as the grenades kept them at bay, that is.

  Reyes then saw movement in the narrowed path leading into the cove. A line of the creatures had appeared, kicking up a cloud of sand beneath their stampede. “Oh shit!”

  Silence swept through the shuttle. Everyone must have seen the newest arrivals too.

  Even from the distance between them, Reyes saw Jones set his grenade. A red light blinked on it. After a couple of seconds, he threw it, overarm, at the creatures behind them.

  Henry, Martins, and Campbell all did the same, sending their tennis-ball-sized explosives at the pack before Jones sent another one at them. They had to hurry.

  But before the grenades detonated, every one of the creatures stopped running and fell to the g
round. Even the ones farther away. They pulled into themselves and lay beneath their shells, taking up the forms of piles of rock.

  “Did you see that, WO?” Peacock said.

  The WO stared through the gap in the door at the desert outside, his stony expression doing nothing to betray his emotions as the ground shook with the grenade explosions.

  Sand and smoke filled the air, hiding the four Commandos and the beasts from view.

  The shuttle fell silent for what felt like the longest time. Reyes broke it as she gasped to see Henry burst from the clouds. A second later, Campbell, Martins, and Jones ran out behind him.

  “They’ve made it. They’re going …” But before Reyes could get any more words out, a line of the creatures burst from the smoke and dust behind them. Shoulder to shoulder like before, they moved faster than ever. They had the beating of the troops. Wide snapping jaws, huge powerful hands, large hulking frames.

  Twice as many as before—maybe forty in total—they ran after the Commandos as a wall of chaos.

  “The grenades didn’t even hurt them,” Patel said, his voice shaking.

  Rousseau—who remained just outside the vessel after Smith and Huat had climbed back in—shook her head. “We don’t have anything stronger.”

  Jones ran at the back of the pack. The most senior member always had to make sure their team returned safely. It didn’t look likely today.

  One of the yellow creatures took to the air like a grasshopper. It landed on Jones’ back and knocked him to the ground. The pair of them entangled with one another as they rolled over and over on the hard and sandy surface.

  The other three stopped as if to help him, but Jones looked up from his struggle and shouted, “Fly, you fools.”

  They took off again back towards the shuttle.

  The creature fought to get on top of Jones, pinned him with one of its large rocky arms, and gripped the Marine’s head with its free hand.