“Finn, Sarah!” yelled Jaz.
They glanced over. Herself and the rest of the team were lying down in the newly created crater in the road. They ran over to join them, sliding the last two metres as bullets hailed down.
“Where are they?” yelled Finn.
Jaz shook her head. “We don’t know. I haven’t seen a single one.”
A scream cut through the air. Sarah didn’t think that she had ever heard something so terrible. Hutch sneaked a look over the edge of their crater. When he sat back down his face was white, completely drained of any colour. He looked at Jaz.
“They have acid bombs.”
Jaz didn’t say anything. None of them did. That was a bad way to go.
They were shocked from their silence as a hail of bullets landed on the wrong side of their crater.
“Move! Move! Move!” yelled Dylan, pushing them up and over the crater. “They’re behind us!”
They scrambled over the edge, trying to keep low. There was a loud exchange of gunfire up ahead, one of the other groups obviously having made it further than they did.
Then something exploded in Sarah’s face and she was knocked off her feet again. She screamed. The pain was incredible. It felt like half her face was on fire. She was only vaguely aware of someone picking her up and running with her. She wasn’t even aware she was still screaming until someone splashed a bottle-full of water onto her face and she gagged as some of it made its way down her open throat. The pain abated a tiny bit, enough to let her focus on her surroundings. They were crouched behind the abandoned car, now overturned in one of the bomb explosions. It was black and smoking slightly, hardly recognisable. Inanely she remembered her thoughts of only twenty minutes ago, where she wondered where the craters and burnt out cars were. Well, now she knew. They were waiting for her. Boulder was puffing heavily next to her. Finn was also panting, holding his shoulder. Blood seeped out between his fingers.
“You’re shot?” she gasped, horrified.
“I’m ok,” said Finn. But the blood kept on trickling through his fingers. “But you’re not. Your face…”
Sarah raised her hand, cutting him off. She didn’t want to think about it. She sat up, her head swimming. She took some deep breaths to steady herself.
“Don’t you faint,” warned Boulder, trying to keep his size as small as possible as he crouched. “I’m not carrying you everywhere.”
Sarah could hardly credit it. It was Boulder who had carried her. Without thinking she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He blinked and then grunted. Sarah grinned and immediately wished she hadn’t. It hurt her face too much. She fished around in her pant pockets. They all had a roll of emergency bandage in case of a scenario like this. After some ineffective fumbling she finally managed to get the button open and pulled it out. She tore open the wrapping and crouched next to Finn.
“Let me see,” she told him.
Finn winced but slowly took his hand away. His hand was soaked in blood now. The fabric on his shoulder was a dark, glistening black. Sarah sucked in a deep breath and started wrapping the bandage around tightly. It needed to be washed out and sutured, but they didn’t have time or the equipment. Finn gripped the underside of the car tightly as she worked, his knuckles turning white from the tension. She finished quickly, tying the ends together. She turned back to Boulder.
“Where are the others?”
Boulder nodded his head towards a street-side stall that had somehow remained standing. Sarah leaned out to look and then drew her head back in immediately as she leaned a little too far out and a bullet pinged just past her head. After a few deep breaths she leaned out again, this time being more careful not to lean too far. The stall the others were hiding behind had all its windows blown out. Dylan, Hutch, Bettina and Gillie were crouched there. Gillie had tears running down his face.
Sarah frowned. “Where’s Jaz?”
Boulder stared at her, his eyes empty. “We don’t know.” He blinked. “We think she might have been hit.”
Sarah felt as if her gut had been hollowed out. Jaz. The one of them with the most skill. It wasn’t fair.
“We need to retreat,” said Sarah. “Let them have the block. Who gives a damn?”
Boulder shook his head at her. “We can’t.”
“Sure we can,” said Sarah. “Boulder, we’re fighting for nothing. Both sides are just as bad as each other. Ours tried to experiment on us, remember? Remember the Hourglass Group?”
Boulder shook his head again. “No, you aren’t listening,” he said. “We literally can’t. We’re surrounded on all sides. We’re ok now, but give it five minutes and the guys behind us will catch-up and this car’s not going to be much help at all. There’s no going back, even if we wanted to.”
Sarah glanced back at Finn. His eyes were closed, his face far whiter than Sarah ever wanted to see it. He was taking quick, shallow breaths. He didn’t look good.
She had never felt more desperate in her life. They needed to do something soon, but there was nothing to be done. She forced her breathing to slow, but it didn’t help. They were going to die. She looked over at the others again. Dylan was cupping a hand over his ear, listening intently to whatever orders were being delivered to him. After a moment his expression hardened and he nodded. He took his hand away from his ear and drew out the small package Sarah had seen him pocket before in the hanger. He opened it. Sarah squinted. She couldn’t make out what it was. Then Dylan’s cupped hand slapped against Gillie’s thigh and she thought she could seem him pushing down on something with his thumb. Gillie yelled in surprise and then stopped, his eyes widening. Suddenly his face went red, the veins popped up on his forehead and arms, his hands shook violently. He screamed, only this time it wasn’t in fear, it was in pure, unadulterated rage. He sprung to his feet and, gun held high, and charged off around the stall, straight towards the enemy. Sarah barely had a moment to register what had happened before Dylan got to Bettina as well.
“The berserker drug!” said Sarah, all the breath knocked out of her. “Dylan’s using the berserker drug on them!” She felt Boulder push up against her as he tried to see what was going on as well.
“The bastard,” he growled, his voice low.
The berserker chemical was invented to make a super soldier. It would give them determination, strength many times amplified, and rage to put it all to good use. A berserker user had no conscious. They would shoot, and when their bullets ran out, they would stab, gouge, throttle, punch and bite everyone and anything until dead. Innocent bystanders weren’t spared. There were eyewitness reports of people on the berserker drug continuing to run forward with several bullets in their body. However it also destroyed the user. Many couldn’t handle the effects, most dying of heart or lung problems while using it, if they survived the enemy fire. Those rare few who made it out alive were usually driven mad after they came to and realised the death and destruction they had caused. Bettina had followed Gillie over the stall, screaming her lungs off. Sarah saw a plume of blood explode from her leg but she kept on running, like she didn’t even notice it. Then she was out of sight. Hutch was pointing his handgun at Dylan, keeping him at bay, having finally realised what was going on.
“What are you doing?” He yelled.
“We’re all going to die, Hutch!” yelled Dylan, his voice crazed. “We can’t let them take us! We go out fighting!”
“Not like that!” replied Hutch, appalled. “Please, Dylan…”
“We’ll take as many of them with us as we can,” persuaded Dylan.
“I’ll die as myself, you bastard,” replied Hutch.
Dylan sneered at him. “Losers,” he hissed. “What’re you going to do, shoot me?”
Hutch kept the gun steady, but didn’t reply.
“Yeah,” scoffed Dylan, “I didn’t think so.”
He moved forward with the syringe held ready. Hutch knocked it out of his hand, using his handgun as a bat. Dylan backhanded Hutch across the fa
ce, knocking him off balance. Hutch’s hand went out to steady himself and the gun slid from his grip, sliding out into the open. Desperately, Hutch dived for the fallen syringe as Dylan pulled out his own handgun, the fight too close-quarters to use their rifles. Dylan brought the gun up at the same time Hutch swivelled and planted the syringe deep into Dylan’s leg. Dylan froze, and then let out a roar. He picked up his rifle and used the butt to smash Hutch in the head, knocking him out, before jumping up and going after Gillie and Bettina.
Hutch wasn’t moving. A small pool of blood was seeping out of his head.
“We can’t leave him like that,” said Sarah.
“Sarah,” warned Boulder, but she wasn’t listening.
“Look after Finn,” she told him. Sarah poked her arm around the edge of the car and fired off and few shots and then, before she could think about what she was doing, she ran, crouched down low. Behind her she heard Boulder curse and then a few shots of his own rang out, providing, she hoped, cover for her to make it to the stall unharmed. She made it half way there and then stumbled and landed on one of her knees, hard. She swore but kept on moving, scrambling on all fours for a few paces before finally diving behind the car sheltering Hutch. She scuttled across the ground until she was next to him. His face was pale, but he was breathing. There was a gash on his head and a large, bruised egg was forming. She only hoped his skull wasn’t broken beneath it.
“Hutch,” she blurted, “Hutch, wake up!” She slapped him gently on the cheeks. Hutch’s eyelids fluttered a little. She took that as a promising sign. “Hutch,” she called again, only this time louder. No response. She frowned and then remembered what they had taught her in one of the first aid courses about getting someone to respond. She reached over to his shoulder, where the muscle joined the neck, and squeezed hard on his trapezius muscle. This time Hutch groaned, and his eyes fluttered open.
“About time,” said Sarah. “Hutch, you’ve got to get with it. We’re going to have to run soon and you’re too big even for Boulder to carry.”
“Where are we going to run to, Sarah?” asked Hutch, sounding defeated. “Once the enemy catches up from behind, we’re boxed in.”
Sarah opened her mouth to say something but then shut it again. She didn’t have an answer for him. She wished she did, but there was nothing. It was then that she realised that the shooting had stopped. Sure, she could hear the sounds of fighting off in the distance, but nothing close to home.
A voice shouted out to them across the void.
“You’re surrounded!” yelled a man. “Look behind you!”
Sarah looked behind them. A group of soldiers, rifles raised, were twenty metres off. They weren’t from the Covenant.
“Drop your weapons!” called out the man again.
Sarah glanced over at Boulder. Boulder shrugged and dropped his weapon. He was right. They didn’t have a choice. Sarah dropped her rifle as well, kicking Hutch’s away from him for him.
“Stand up slowly! Hands over your head!”
Sarah tried to get Hutch up but he couldn’t coordinate his legs, and he was too heavy for her to support by herself.
“Hurry up!” the man chided.
She stood up by herself, slowly, hands raised over her head. She had never felt more exposed. Boulder and Finn had done the same, Finn leaning against the side of the overturned car for support. He could only just raise his injured arm up.
“Get the other one up!” called the voice. He must be in contact with his fellows behind them to have known that there were four of them, because she still couldn’t see him.
“I can’t!” yelled back Sarah. “He’s hit his head and he’s too heavy.”
There was a pause, and then eight men and women rounded a building corner, weapons raised. Sarah took an involuntary step backwards. The group came to within five metres of them and then the man who had been doing all the talking stopped. He sent four of his soldiers towards them. Two for Boulder and Finn, two for her and Hutch. They stripped Boulder of his knife and prodded both of the boys forward with their rifle ends. Sarah got frisked, coming back as empty. Hutch received the same treatment on the ground. The guard who had frisked her called for one of the other men to help him lift Hutch. The man hurried over and they both hefted him, a man each under Hutch’s underarms. The speaker frowned at Hutch as they approached.
“Get him to the medics. The others can go with the rest.”
Sarah opened her mouth to ask them to take Finn as well but both Finn and Boulder were looking at her, shaking their heads barely perceptibly. She shut her mouth without saying anything, confused. She hoped they could get help for him later. They were hustled away, a large number of enemy soldiers flanking them on both sides. They passed a number of bodies lying on the road as they walked. Sarah tried not to look at them. She was afraid she would see Gillie or Bettina. She didn’t think that she could take seeing their bodies. She didn’t want to know. While she knew, deep in her heart, that they were dead, she also wanted to believe in the small possibility that the beserker drug made them scale a building where they would be able to wait until the drug wore off in relative safety. The bodies would prove that to be a lie, and she couldn’t have that. They walked for about twenty minutes until they came to a large courtyard, where about fifteen other prisoners were already seated on the grass. They were stripped of their armour before joining the others. A few of the other prisoners looked up as they joined them, but only briefly, and nobody said anything. A number of them were nursing minor injuries. There was an air of expectant unease in the group, as they all waited to find out what was going to happen to them. Every one of them had just experienced the worst forty minutes of their lives, and every one of them knew it still might get worse. It was almost incomprehensible.
Sarah turned her attention to Finn’s shoulder. The bandage was soaked through with blood.
“Finn,” she said, keeping her voice low, “we need to get you to the medics.”
“No,” replied both boys simultaneously.
She stared at them, incredulous. “Look at your shoulder!” she hissed. “That needs help.”
“Then you help it,” said Finn. “I’m not leaving you.”
“And, you know,” added in Boulder sarcastically, “there’s the bit about getting experimented on by the good doctors.”
“I don’t think…” began Sarah, but she was cut off by Boulder.
“Oh really? Remember the last doctor we knew?” Sarah did. He was the doctor aboard the prison ship, the one who had signed them all off to act as guinea pigs for the Hourglass Group.
“Oh. Right.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” repeated Finn.
Sarah nodded, but she bit her lip, worried. He was still extremely pale. He had lost a lot of blood.
The time dragged on, the anxious atmosphere of the group getting to Sarah. She kept on thinking about Jaz, Gillie and Bettina. It wasn’t fair. They didn’t ask for this. They didn’t ask for any of it. They were all just trying to do the best they could, and they were destroyed. They were her friends. And now they were dead. She buried her head in her arms so that no one would know she was crying. She was already in a weak situation. She didn’t need to look weaker.
***
The officer who Sarah and Finn had first met on arrival at the military training facility, who Sarah had mentally labelled “Crewcut”, was sitting at his desk reading the reports of the nearby action he had lost so many of his recruits to. He was reading through the files dismally when he stumbled across a brief note that said Team 32 hadn’t reported back for duty and were presumed dead. He closed his eyes. They were a young team. Some of them had the potential to be good soldiers. Such a waste so early on. His thoughts then leapt to the girl and boy who had arrived only a few weeks prior. What were their names again? And that girl hadn’t registered in the system. That had been strange. He had been meaning to chase that up. Out of a morbid curiosity he dug up her file and looked through it. There was a smal
l amount of meaningless information there and an ID photo. He scanned the document. A single line caught his eye.
‘Identifying features: scar left wrist – barcode. Scar right shoulder - Hourglass symbol.’
He stared at it.
“No,” he whispered, his voice croaky. “Her? It was her?” He searched desperately through his files again and re-read the small paragraph about Team 32. Presumed dead. Shit. He rolled his fingers along the edge of the desk and then paused. Presumed dead was not yet confirmed dead. He would put out a bounty on her. If she survived, he would find her. It was worth risking. She might know about the weapon. She could win the war for him.
Chapter Nineteen
It wasn’t long before they were moved onwards. They were marched towards a number of trucks, and the thirty or so of them were piled into two. If Sarah didn’t have a past experience of hiding inside a bench on a boat for three hours, she would have felt claustrophobic. Finally, after an hour or so of driving, they were let out into a military compound. Their guards ushered them forward. Finn was looking drawn and exhausted now, and both Sarah and Boulder were keeping him propped up. About five metres out of the van Finn stumbled. He clutched desperately to Sarah’s shirt, trying to keep himself upright. Sarah and Boulder managed to grab him and keep him going, trying not to draw too much attention to the near faint. Finn regained some of his balance and Sarah straightened out her shirt, which had ridden up so that the sleeve of her t-shirt was up against her ear, her whole right arm and shoulder exposed.
The Weapon (The Hourglass Series Book 2) Page 8
