by Paul Kidd
The resulting bombs were taken off along the walls as swiftly as they could be made. Beth Baker blinked as she saw the bomb carriers pass her by. She waved to Kitterpokkie as the mantis clambered back onto the wall.
“You made bombs?”
“Such as I can. With another hour, I might have been able to concoct something a bit more lethal.” The mantis had her eye on the shapes gathering out in the dark plains. “What’s happening?”
“I’ve stripped almost everyone off the other walls. I’m putting fifty riflemen with repeaters back here behind the gate behind a barricade, in case they break through…” The rhino hefted Snapper’s carbine in her hands. “I can’t think what else to do.”
“The cavalry will be on the way.” Kitterpokkie heard shots from the north wall here and there. The west wall had fallen silent, and the lights had vanished everywhere except at the eastern ramparts. The mantis began to gather bits and pieces from a box. “Right! Time to draw them on.”
“How do we do that?”
“Oh, with a great deal of derring do.” The girl picked up a hurricane lantern, and made sure the wick was lit. “Yoiks and away!”
“You’re not going out there?” Beth was utterly aghast.” Half of those things might just be lying there wounded! There’s at least thirty there just hiding in the scrub!”
“Well, I shall have to dazzle them with footwork.” The mantis headed down to the gates. “Toodle pip!”
“Aren’t you even taking a budgie?”
“I really have the most fearful trouble just not falling off.” Kitt reached the inside of the gates. “Right! Cover me!”
Six men unshipped the bracing poles and slid away the locking beam. The gate creaked open by a crack, and the slender mantis woman slipped through.
Kitterpokkie stepped through into a terrifying slice of hell.
Twisted monsters lay dead or dying all around her – claws twitching and mad eyes staring. Kitt dodged around a wounded Screamer that ululated horribly and dragged itself towards her. Utterly alone, she flitted onwards past a scatter of dead monsters, and out along the soft dusty road.
The scrublands were a maze of silver moonlight and dense black shadow. Looking north along the wall, Kitterpokkie saw bands of Screamers shoving and cracking at the dense abatis, trying to find a way to reach the walls. A shot here and there cracked from the walls, keeping the most troublesome away. But just back from the fierce hedgerow of sharpened branches, dense packs of the monsters had gathered. They scuttled in the dark, examining the walls. The great high mound of dead Screamers at the north-east corner of the town clearly beckoned.
The creatures were palpably panting and stamping: a rage was slowly building, like a storm swelling in the dark. The creatures screeched, then answered one another. More and more of the monsters began to howl, each one becoming more savage and furious as it roared. The screams caught from one monster to another, and the creatures began to gnash and mill, packing deep as the rearmost Screamers came flooding to the fore.
Kitterpokkie wiped her delicate pink-white brow. She set down her lantern, then unshipped four hand flares scavenged from atop the walls. The white flares sputtered into life, sheeting blinding light in spits and sparks.
Kitterpokkie hurtled one flare spinning and whizzing off towards the nearest horde of monsters a hundred metres away, and gave a piercing whistle.
“I say!” She waved three flares and danced frantically about. “Ooooh lookie! No abatis over here! A golden future of rapine awaits!”
The howling, shrieking monsters swung towards her. They paused – and distant groups saw their motion and swivelled. Kitt threw one of her flares towards the gate – so utterly and conspicuously fragile. “This way! Nummy num nums! Here we go you god-awful rabble!”
One of the small, cannier Screamers started forward, staring at the gate. It gave a warbling, numbing cry. The sound was taken up by several others. Monsters stared, and Kitterpokkie danced about further and further from the gate, waving her flares and trying to tempt them in.
“Look! Yummy mantis! Num num!”
The dense front ranks of monsters swelled and swelled. Behind them, the pack built, screaming and shuddering in rage. Quite suddenly the entire mass of creatures launched into a run. They rampaged through the dust, crashing forward with a deafening scream.
Kitterpokkie watched for a moment to ensure that the horde was headed in the right direction, and then tossed her flares aside. She backed away two steps, decided that the time had come, and turned to flee madly back towards the gate.
A black shadow lunged. One of the wounded Screamers by the road snatched at Kitterpokkie’s leg and sent her spilling in the dust. A second monster rose up, streaking blood, raging towards her. The mantis drew her pistol and shot the creature in the head, scrabbling free to shoot at yet another Screamer that whipped out at her with its claws. A dozen more had suddenly closed in on the gate. Riflemen from above fired down at them, trying to clear the mantis a path – but then a snarling pack of monsters somehow burst up from beneath the nearby abatis and crashed into the gate itself. The monsters gouged into the wooden gates with their claws, and started to clamber upwards with alarming speed. The riflemen opened fire then Kitterpokkie raced to the left, heading for the river.
Behind her, hundreds and hundreds of claws rumbled as the Screamers thundered straight towards the gate.
Throckmorton leapt out from the wall above, holding one end of a rope trailing in his tentacles. He sailed downwards, clutching a rock to help him fall. His wings thrashed as he frantically broke his fall. The plant landed in front of Kitterpokkie and pressed the rope into her hands, making sure that she held it tight. As the Screamer horde thundered up behind them, the plant gave a frantic honk of his horn, dropped his ballast, and bobbed four metres up into the air.
Up on the wall above, the far end of the rope was wrapped around the arm of a hefty shopkeeper. The man jumped down the inner side of the wall, pulling the rope behind him. Outside the ramparts, Kitterpokkie shot upwards. Above her, a massive volley thundered out as the Screamers crashed hard against the walls.
The wall acted as a pulley. Kitt whipped up into the air, banging hard against the battlements. Screamers leapt wildly up to catch her, clawing at her legs. A rifleman shot one down just as it latched onto Kitterpokkie’s foot. Kitt flung herself up to the rim of the ramparts and caught on with her upper claws. She struggled up and over, bone darts whipping all around her, while beside her two militiamen fired down into the Screamer horde.
A dense mass of Screamers came flooding from the north, heading straight towards the gate. The creatures stumbled over each other in their wild craze for the kill. Kitterpokkie saw the fields emptying of Screamers – the entire swarm came raging past the abatis. The front of the horde slammed into the wooden gates, and the heavy wooden panels almost splintered from the impact. The gates groaned and bowed inward as Screamers pushed and shoved, their huge column reaching far back into the dark. There must have been a thousand of them just below the gates, all screaming and ravening for blood.
Rifles blasted. Screamers clambered on the backs of their kin and flung themselves at the gates, climbing up the wood. Shotguns and repeater carbines tried to blast the climbers away. Some of Kitterpokkie’s home made bombs went tumbling into the mass below, detonating with thunderous bangs, but the Screamers simply swarmed forward over their own dead. Bone darts spat upwards at the walls, cracking into the stone. Dazed and shocked, Kitterpokkie struggled to her feet, found Beth Baker, and tried to make sense out of the storm.
“Where’s Throckmorton?”
The plant had not yet generated enough gas to allow himself to escape up and over the walls. He was instead drifting only three metres above the heads of the Screamer horde, keeping still and letting the wind blow him off towards the river. His little faces blinked down at the horde, but the monsters were utterly fixated on the gates.
The left gate split with a sound like a lightning bol
t, and Screamers dug their huge claws into the crack and began tearing it apart. Down in the streets, reserve riflemen formed two lines and took aim. The entire gate was on the verge of giving way.
Kitterpokkie loaded her last two pistol rounds. Beside her, Beth tried to direct fire down at the Screamers who were tearing open the gate, but ammunition was running short. A rain of lead bricks and hefty stones crashed down onto the attackers, but still the monsters came.
Down beside the river, the cavalry thundered along, budgie tails streaming. The hard-packed dirt beside the riverbanks was excellent footing for the mounts. Harness jangled – birds ran with heads lowered and eyes flashing, while beetle-horses clashed their mandibles, eager to be in the fight.
There was a sudden crash of rifle fire from the town. They were fighting at the gates – intense gunfire, punctuated by exploding bombs. The bloodthirsty howls of the Screamer horde merged with the gunfire into a single formless roar.
There was a flurry in the bushes and the lead riders were suddenly thrown into chaos. Budgies reared. Men rode forward with draw sabres, whipping the blades down. A group of Screamers shrieked, and then were ridden down. A few birds stumbled riderless through the brush. Snapper sent Onan racing back towards the fight, but it was over – four Screamers were down, and a rider wounded. Beau came cantering forward on Pendleton to report.
“Kenda’s down!”
“Alive?”
“Hit his head when his bird threw him.” Beau was brightly intense – frightened, but energised. “He’ll recover.”
“Leave him! Make sure he has his gun.” Snapper spurred on. “Head ‘em up. Up through the gap. Form your squadrons up twenty metres behind mine. Open the gap to a hundred before you start your advance.”
The column of riders cantered their birds and gleaming beetles up and out beneath the trees in moonlight. They rode up onto the broad open ground east of the town – hard dirt, dust and scattered knee-high bushes, with the dirt road leading straight to the gates. The cavalry column raced a hundred metres out onto the plains and came to a halt, turning to make a long line facing towards the embattled town. The shark cantered to the centre of the road, extending her arms to indicate the line.
“Two ranks, nose to tail. Boot to boot! Lock boot to boot! Blades only!” She held aloft her wicked sword. “Steel! Only steel! Keep pistols for after we’re into ‘em!”
Toby and Samuels were guiding the men into line. “Keep your dressing as we charge! We want to hit them like a solid wall!”
The second wave galloped up behind the first and formed its ranks. Beau sat on his moth with his elegant sword drawn and arms spread, dressing the line as his riders settled into place.
The long lines of riders waited.
War budgies, cockatoos and beetles pawed and clawed at the dust. The vaquero squadrons had long lances, used to prod herd beasts and as protection in the wild. The other riders – prospectors, guards, scouts and ranchers – all had pistols and razor-sharp, curved swords. Snapper spurred on along the front of the line as men locked into their ranks. She had her helmet pulled well down – her hussar jacket slung flamboyantly across her shoulder and her black hair streaming out behind her.
The big curved sabre glittered as she rode.
“We are not latterday men, breaking a witless world! We are weird-landers! We’re ruin riders! This place is home!”
Snapper was intensely aware of everything around her, turning Onan to face the troops. She rode back along to the centre of the line, looking barbarically splendid in the moonlight. Her long shark tail swept behind her – her helmet gleamed, and her wicked shark teeth glittered.
“Draw – swords!”
The sabreurs drew their weapons with a hiss of steel all along the line. Snapper took her place twenty metres in front of the line. The bugler was behind her and three paces to the side, his sulphur crested cockatoo shivering its crest. Onan clawed at the earth.
Toby and Samuels were behind her – mounted, armoured and armed. Their helms were dented and their blades shimmered in their hands. Snapper faced front and lifted her sword in the signal to advance.
“Riders – En avant!” She never looked back. “Walk your birds!”
A cold thrill went clean through Snapper’s spine.
The first line walked forwards, two ranks deep. The ranks rippled slightly as birds and beetles stepped over shrubs. In front of them, the town’s eastern wall was lit by flares, topped by a storm of gunfire – gun smoke and bomb blasts lighting up a churning, writhing mass of Screamers clawing at the gates. The gates themselves were splintering beneath the onslaught, as hundreds and hundreds of Screamers bunched in a huge mass that pushed and shoved towards the town.
“To the trot!”
Behind them, the second squadron wheeled, curving its path to parallel the wall. Beau had them in hand, curbing back his own weird mount as it tried to lunge ahead into combat before anyone else could spoil its fun. Snapper paid them no more heed, concentrating on the huge army of Screamers a few hundred metres up ahead. She saw the gates begin to buckle – and then suddenly the left gate fell inwards in a crash and splinter of wood. A huge volley crashed into the Screamers who poured into the gap.
“Canter!”
Faster and faster – the line of cavalry swept forwards in a solid mass of birds and steel. Claws flashed – beaks and mandibles clashed. They were close now – three hundred metres, and still the Screamers failed to see the mass of riders coming at them in the dark. As the fire from the broken gate suddenly fell away and was replaced by the clash of swords and steel, Snapper rose in her stirrups and swept her sword forward in ecstasy.
“At the gallop – charge!”
“Charge! Charge!”
The line of riders leapt forward like a dam bursting its wall. They sped across the dust at breakneck speed. Wind raced through their hair. The trumpeter blew- four rising notes, again and again. It was like sheer madness thundering through the blood. Snapper screamed in rage – louder than any monster. Behind her, a hundred and fifty riders roared.
She struck the outskirts of the Screamer horde, spearing one monster from behind, another careening off Onan’s charging breast. She cut down at another and another, hearing sabres slicing far behind her. And then the solid mass of the Screamer horde was right in front of her. Her sabre point was held before her like a spear. It slammed clean through a monster and she ploughed deep into the horde. An instant later, the entire line of riders behind her crashed into the creatures like a tidal wave.
Lances plunged through Screamers, speared and shattered. Sabres lunged, then cut. The big blades hacked down, and the astonished Screamers fell. The cavalry drove deep into the horde, beetles biting, birds tearing. The monsters were smashed beneath the charge.
To the north, there was another mighty smash. Beau’s squadron was rampaging along the length of the town walls, cutting down the thinned numbers of monsters, cleaving a wild path. Snapper fought off a Screamer that tried to claw right up her saddle, feeling a blaze of pain as claws slashed at her thigh. She smashed the steel guard of her sabre into the creature’s maw, splintering its fangs. Claws scraped from her cuirass, and then she had space to use her blade. The huge curved edge ripped across the monster’s throat and sent it tumbling aside.
Snapper whirled to judge the progress of her men, and then shot down a Screamer as it tried to fire at dart into Onan’s flank. From high on her bird, she cut a devastating path through the horde. She flicked a glance to the north, but Beau’s squadrons were out of sight.
Their momentum slowed, bogging down against the packed mass of monsters. At the far side of the horde, the town’s defenders were running from the walls and surging forward through the gate, firing and cutting, sending monsters reeling back. The cavalry were wading through Screamers, cutting and hacking. Revolvers blasted, tumbling monsters aside. The firepower blew open a breathing space amongst the riders, and Snapper bellowed out across the melee.
“Back three
hundred metres and reform to charge!”
The riders immediately disengaged, turning and spurring away at a gallop. The Screamers could not keep up. They faltered, some raging on after the riders, others milling, yet others turning back towards the walls, where the open gate yawned wide. But Snapper took her bloodied squadrons back into the dark, reined in and held up her sword as the trumpet blew the signal to re-form.
“Two lines! Lock your ranks!” She saw the last riders racing into place. The birds were panting – almost blown. But there was a flurry to the north, where Beau’s riders were finally racing back towards the gates. “At the walk – forward!” She pumped her sword up and down, seeing that Toby and Samuels were in position at each end of the line. “Canter!” The line moved forward in a solid wall, now at the canter – more ragged this time, but utterly formidable. Snapper rose in her stirrups and bellowed, her cry turning into a wild yell of joy. “Charge!”
The trumpet rang out once more. Again the racing birds and beetles flung themselves across the dust. Sabres forward, the riders came out of the dark. Screamers were bowled over, smashed down by the weight of birds and steel. The charge drove home into the Screamers once again, sending a shock wave crashing through the horde.
Snapper hacked about herself left and right, her blade hissing as it cut. Onan snapped and bit, his huge beak a savage weapon. Screamers tore at the bird. Snapper cut the jaw from one monster, used her blade to hurtle back another that went for her throat – and then suddenly another shock ran through the Screamer horde. Beau’s squadrons smashed home into their flanks, rolling them up, crushing them under claw. Pendleton ploughed deep into the middle of the battle, slashing and hurtling monsters aside. The Screamers quivered – then suddenly broke, fleeing back from the town walls and trying to run for safety out across the plains.
