The monsters had succeeded in flanking the Browning’s position and another of the beasts went to fling Danny away from the Browning he had been firing. It snatched up the heavy machine gun and broke it to bits in its massive hands. Danny landed between two of the Mapinguari, weaponless and lying on his back, his breath knocked from his lungs in a grunt of pain. He didn’t even have a chance to try to recover before one of the monsters brought a foot down on his skull, popping it like a rotten melon being struck by a sledgehammer.
Alan quickly found himself alone against the monsters. He ducked beneath one monster’s slashing claws and sidestepped another as he broke into a run. Alan cut a zig-zagging path through the monsters’ ranks as he sprinted towards the remaining copter at the other end of the clearing. He was a qualified pilot and knew the bird was his only chance of survival. If he could reach the copter and get it into the air, he could use its weapons to blow the hell of the monsters in the clearing and drive them away from the VTOL. The thought of just using the copter to escape didn’t even cross his mind. His loyalty to Colonel Lee ran that deep, and it was his job to make sure that Lee survived above all else. He made it through the monsters to the copter, but as he reached it and started to climb inside, a spray of bullets pinged off the copter’s side near him. Alan dropped, narrowly avoiding being hit as a second burst of fire came from the trees. He took cover, crawling beneath the copter as the bullets raked its side above him. Alan spotted the man who was shooting at him in the trees. He had to belong to the enemy squad that they all had been waiting on to return. The man had him pinned down and trapped beneath the copter. Alan holstered one of his pistols and set about reloading the other. The idiot was going to get them both killed.
Though most of the remaining Mapinguari were moving to surround the VTOL, several of the monsters were on the move towards both the copter and the man’s position in the trees. Alan flipped the chamber of his pistol closed, having finished reloading it, and waited on the man to fire again. He didn’t have to wait long. This time, the man was firing at him as his P-90 opened up. The man was firing at the monsters quickly approaching him from the clearing. Alan slipped out from beneath the copter, getting to his feet. He took aim as the man saw him and tried to sweep his stream of fire around. Alan put a bullet into his forehead with a single well-placed shot. The man’s body jerked backward from the bullet’s impact and disappeared beneath the cover of the trees. Alan knew his shot ended the man, but their engagement had cost him time he didn’t have. Several of the monsters were already close enough to be within reach of the copter before he could possibly get it airborne. His plan to get the bird into the air and use its weapons was fragged and there was no choice now but to make a run for it again.
The closest of the monsters took a swing at him. Its claws sounded like fingernails on a blackboard as they raked the side of the copter behind Alan as he darted under them. He fired a point-blank shot into the monster’s ribs next to its eye as he ran by the monster. It grunted, trying to turn around to get in another swipe at him, but Alan was too fast for it. He was beyond its reach before its hulking form could fully turn to engage him. Alan’s breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed his body to its limits, pouring on all the speed he could as he sprinted away from the copter and the monsters around it.
Alan didn’t hear or see the shot that came at him from the trees. It ripped into his head, splashing blood, brain matter, and bone fragments from the other side of his skull as it exited his body. His world went black as his body twisted sideways and tumbled to bounce along the ground before finally rolling to a stop.
****
“Burn in hell, you bastard,” Heather said, lowering the smoking barrel of his rifle. She and Roger had come upon Flagston’s corpse a few moments before and spotted the merc that had killed him making a run for it across the clearing. She hadn’t hesitated at all in taking the chance to make the man pay for what he had done.
“He was the last of them,” Roger told her.
“No, he wasn’t,” Heather corrected the big man. “Someone’s aboard the VTOL.”
The bulk of the monsters in the clearing had moved to surround the plane now that the mercs were dead. They were pounding on the plane and tearing at its armored hull with their claws. Their frenzied roars had replaced the now silent sounds of gunfire. The monsters seemed determined to get into the VTOL and at whoever was alive inside it.
It appeared none of the monsters had noticed the two of them despite the shot Heather had fired. The monsters clustered near the copter the man she had killed had fled from were moving towards the VTOL as well.
“That copter is just going to be sitting there in the open,” Roger said.
“That’s great,” Heather snapped. “Can you fly it? Flagston’s dead.”
“I was hoping that you could,” Roger answered, frowning.
Heather shook her head angrily. “I’m qualified on the Hopper though.”
“Maybe we should just go back after the device and let the monsters do their thing. We can come back when they are gone,” Roger suggested.
“That mission is over with, Roger,” Heather said. “I don’t know where Nicholson stashed the device out there any more than you do. All that matters now is getting out of here alive.”
“I hope you have a plan on how to get through all those things then,” Roger huffed, “because I sure as hell don’t.”
“We’ll just have to do whatever it takes … like we always do,” Heather growled. She knelt beside Flagston’s corpse and gently closed his gore-smeared eyes with her fingertips. Unclipping the grenade he carried from his belt, she held it as she rose to her feet.
“You’ve still got a grenade too right?” she asked.
Roger nodded. “Just one.”
“Then two will have to be enough,” she said, knowing that it wouldn’t be. She took a quick count of the remaining Mapinguari trying to tear their way into the VTOL and the others still moving towards it. There were over two dozen of the things left. Low on ammo and up against impossible odds, the two of them were truly going to have to pull off a miracle in order to get out the jungle alive.
“Those things are focused on the VTOL. If we’re careful, we should be able to get the slip on them without them even noticing we’re coming,” Heather said.
“Fat lot of good that’ll do us,” Roger said. “Our guns ain’t gonna do squat to them unless we’re able to hit them in that damn eye they have. We don’t have the ammo to just try to hammer them away from the VTOL.”
“We had better make every shot count then.” Heather looked again the monsters around the VTOL. Something was going on with the monsters near the plane’s rear. “And we better hit them right now.”
Heather broke from the trees, running towards the monsters with Roger following on her heels.
****
The whining and shrieking of bending metal brought Colonel Lee running out of the VTOL’s cockpit. The noise had interrupted the distress call he’d been trying to send. He stopped in his tracks, still a good distance from the plane’s rear door, as he saw the claws that had wedged themselves between the edges of the ramp/doorway and were pulling against it. As he watched, another trio of claws forced their way through into a matching position on the opposite side of the door. Colonel Lee drew his Desert Eagle, having re-holstered while he was using the plane’s radio, but was afraid to take a shot. There was very little of the claws on either side of the doorway and he didn’t want the round he fired bouncing around the plane’s rear compartment if he missed and it struck the metal of the door. There was damn little he could do but watch as the monsters struggled to tear the door free from the plane so that could come clamoring inside after him. Instead of chancing a shot, his mind raced to come up with another plan of action that might keep the monsters at bay if they did manage to break in. He couldn’t come up with a blasted thing.
Colonel Lee saw another set of claws join the first two and knew it was only a matter of ti
me until the monsters succeeded in their attempt to tear the door free. Lord knew there were enough of them out there and leverage was on their side. In that moment, he realized he was a dead man. Colonel Lee switched out the partial magazine in his pistol for a full one as he looked around the plane’s rear compartment. He and his men had already looted it, taking anything that thought they needed or of value for their own. All that they had found had been unloaded from the plane into the clearing closer to their copters before the attack from the monsters had come, but there were a few crates still scattered about. He raced from one to the next, forcing them open to shuffle through their contents. What remained aboard looked to be merely rations, ammo for weapons he didn’t have, and medical gear. There was nothing to help him in his current situation, nothing at all.
With a cold, accepting nod of his head, Colonel Lee knew what he had to do. He wasn’t the sort to go out without a fight and if he had to die, he wanted to take as many of the Mapinguari with as he could. That meant he was going to have to blow the plane. Colonel Lee spotted a maintenance hatch that would allow him to access the VTOL’s fuel lines and went to work at opening it. The Mapinguari roars outside the plane rose in volume as the rear door rattled and clanged as they pulled on it. Colonel Lee heard the metal of the door groaning loudly before something snapped completely and was torn from the plane. At the same time, he was able to access and pop the fuel line he was after. It shot fuel upwards from where he had opened it with its pressure still intact. The odor of the fuel was strong as Colonel Lee angled the hose to splash the spraying liquid around everywhere that he could. He looked up into the darkness of the night outside the plane and saw the yellow, glowing eyes of the beasts staring back at him. One of the massive creatures shoved the others from its path and climbed into the rear of the plane. The monster either ignored the smell of the fuel or didn’t know what it was. Its thoughts seemed to be entirely focused on him as he readied his Desert Eagle. When he fired, it wasn’t at the monster, however. Colonel Lee put a .50 caliber round into the exposed and open fuel line. The shot sparked against the metal near the open line. The interior of the plane burst into flames, the fuel that had been splashed and sprayed about igniting. Colonel Lee screamed as the fire spread over him. The Mapinguari that had entered the plane thrashed about covered in flames. Its massive form slammed into the right wall of the plane’s rear, denting the metal there. The ammo in the crates began to cook off … and then everything went up in a blast that blew the plane apart.
****
Heather and Roger opened fire on the monsters as they ran. Her hope was to draw the creatures away from the rear of the plane before they found a way inside it. She didn’t give a crap about the colonel who was likely inside of it. Given the chance, she would blow his brains out herself for the losses he had caused. Nicholson, Flagston, Wallace, and Walker were dead because of the man. But if she and Roger were going to make it out, they needed that plane.
Roger was careful with the last few rounds in his automatic shotgun. He fired a shot into the back of one of the monsters, hoping it would turn towards him and then did the same to another. The glowing yellow eye near the top of each monster’s upper torso was their only real weak spot. A shot that struck there was usually instantly lethal to them. Heather was firing too. Her M-16 chattered, spitting three-round bursts at several of the creatures.
Neither she nor Roger was prepared for what happened. Without warning, the VTOL blew. The explosion sent waves of fire and flying bits of metal debris all across the clearing. The shockwave from the blast hit Heather. She grunted in pain as it lifted her from her feet. Heather landed hard on her back, the impact emptying her lungs of air. The heat of the blast singed her hair, but she was far enough out not to be hit directly by its flames.
Heather rolled onto her side, her eyes searching desperately for Roger as she struggled to get her breath back. She spotted him lying on the damp soil of the jungle only a few yards from her position. One of his arms was bent at an unnatural angle and blood leaked from a wound on his right cheek where it looked like a piece of shrapnel from the blast had smacked into him. She could see him moving though, so she knew he was alive. Shoving herself up, she sprinted over to help him to his feet. The blast had torched the cluster of monsters surrounding the plane when it blew. The few still alive were shrieking in agony as they burned.
Roger took the hand she offered him and Heather yanked the big man up.
“You okay?” Heather asked, looking him over.
“I’ll live,” Roger muttered, shaking his head as if to clear it.
“We’ve got to move,” Heather told him.
Roger stared at the burning remnants of the VTOL. “There went our ride home.”
“I know,” Heather said. “But the blast didn’t kill all those things. We’ve got to get out here before they get it together and start coming after us.”
Roger didn’t argue. He retrieved his automatic shotgun and gave a grim nod.
“Which way?” Roger asked.
“Does it matter?” Heather spat, keeping a close eye on the remaining monsters who still didn’t seem to realize they were there.
“I guess not,” Roger replied.
Heather took off for the trees and Roger followed her. They plunged into the jungle together. Heather kept her pace restrained to one that Roger could keep up with. She didn’t know just how badly he was really hurt and wasn’t about to leave him behind. Too many people had died already. She’d be damned if she let Roger die too.
They were still running when the sun began to rise above the trees.
****
Half an hour after dawn, Heather and Roger stopped to catch their breath. Both of them were pushed to their limits if not beyond them. She could see that Roger was on the verge of collapse though the big man would never admit it. There hadn’t been any sign of pursuit from the monsters, but then the things were so bloody silent and camouflaged by the coloration of their hair and scales that they could right on top of them and they would never know it. Regardless, they needed rest, so Heather was willing to chance a break.
Roger propped himself against a tree and let his body slide down it to rest at its base. Heather remained on her feet though it felt like her legs might give out on her at any moment.
“Hell of a job eh, boss?” Roger joked, trying to lighten the tension that hung over them.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Heather said, laughing. Laughing felt good. Her shoulders slumped as she relaxed a bit.
“I never thought I would meet a real monster,” Roger said. “A part of me still can’t believe what we just lived through. It just seems too crazy to be true.”
“If we make it out of here, I’ll be seeing those things in my nightmares for the rest of my life,” Heather said.
“Yeah, me too,” Roger admitted.
The two of them fell silent. Roger closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds. Heather listened to his snores as she finally took a seat on the ground near him. She popped her M-16’s magazine and started counting the number of rounds she had left. Once she was done, she reinserted the magazine and kept her rifle close at hand.
They had a long walk ahead of them through some of the roughest climate possible if they were going to get home. The radios in their helmets lacked the range for them to call for help. They were on their own until they reached whatever passed for civilization down here.
She figured their best bet was to pick a direction and stick with it. Eventually, they would run across a town or village where they might be able to get help. It was a longshot but …
Heather heard a twig snap in the jungle from behind their position. She turned to see a native tribesman watching her. His flesh was spotted with splotches of white paint and his face smeared a nasty yellow. The leer on his face sent a shiver along her spine as he showed her his jagged, half-rotted teeth. Heather snatched her M-16 up in her hands as she scrambled to her feet.
The tribesman stared at he
r with hungry eyes as he tapped the palm of his left hand with the end of the bone club he held in his right as if challenging her to make the first move. Heather saw that he wasn’t alone as she looked around. There were seven of the tribesmen altogether surrounding her and Roger. The big man continued to snore, out of it, and oblivious to the danger they were in. Heather figured that it was a safe guess to say that these were the last of the warriors from the tribe that had made several failed attempts to kill them earlier. And there was no doubt that they were out for vengeance for the loss of their brethren.
Two of the tribesmen carried spears. One held a blowgun at the ready. The others, like the one standing directly in front of her, were armed with clubs fashioned from bones. Some of them also carried crude knifes that dangled at their sides.
The tribesman in front of her gave a series grunt-like sounds and gestured at the rifle in her hands. Heather continued to stare at him and shook her head. She didn’t know if he knew what the gesture meant, but she made it clear with her body language that she wasn’t putting her rifle down.
Then, all hell broke loose as the tribesmen gave up waiting on her. She hadn’t been able to reach Roger to kick at him and wake him up nor had she wanted to risk calling out his name. One of the tribesmen hurled his spear into Roger’s chest. The big man came awake with a howl of pain as its tip pierced his ribs. Roger’s eyes were wide as his hands closed around the spear’s shaft, trying to rip it out of his body. He never got the chance to get the free though as another of the tribesmen who was close to where Roger sat lunged at the big man, bringing his bone club down on his head. Roger’s skull caved inward from the blow and one of his eyes popped free from its socket to dangle on his cheek as his body went limp.
The Roaring Page 10
