Vengeance Enlisted
Page 8
The gecko moved on to easier targets. I took a moment to breathe and then looked at the marine the gecko was heading for. The next target for it to kill.
It was Beth.
I froze. Beth froze. Taylor froze.
The gecko charged towards her.
Even though she was standing at the far end of the cavern, I could make out her features clearly. She was scared. Her beautiful face was white, her eyes wide orbs. Fear had gripped her like nothing else.
I wasn’t going to reach her in time. With the ledge I was hiding under blocking my aim, my gun with its lethal energy clip was useless. The most I could do was throw it at the gecko’s legs.
Throw it… Perhaps there was another way.
Taylor was standing to the side, at an angle away from the gecko. He could shoot the alien if he had the weapon.
“Taylor!” I shouted, and I threw him the gun. It slid across the dirt, spinning like a top. Taylor picked the gun up, confused. He didn’t know the death held within his grasp.
The gecko was almost on top of Beth. She was pressed against the far side of the cavern. There was nowhere for her to go.
“It’s live!” I shouted. “The clip is live!”
Taylor turned, opened fire. Lethal bursts of electric fire shot out of the gun into the gecko.
The live fire was devastating: even the armour plating couldn’t withstand it. Purple blood exploded out of its hide. Chunks of burned flesh popped into the air. Smoke filled the cavern.
The gecko collapsed to the ground, dead. Its flesh and armour made strange sounds: the armour was cooling from the sudden heat; the flesh was boiling within itself, cooked by the electric fire.
A great cheer went up: the marines that could stand shouted and hollered and slapped each other on the back. Taylor and Beth embraced and kissed. I turned away, saw Harrod lift Wilson up. Wilson was dazed but alive. He took a step and tripped over a chain, fell back on his face.
I stared at the chain, blinked. The chain was connected to the entrance of one of the caverns and ran to a loop that encircled the gecko’s neck.
“Huh,” I said. The gecko wasn’t a threat, it was a prisoner. It had been planted here, all part of the mission.
We had killed a pet.
“What are you thinking about?” Harrod asked. I stared into his face. He was so happy about the dead gecko that I couldn’t bring myself to ruin his mood.
“I’m thinking about how good it will feel once we’re off this rock,” I told him.
TWENTY-THREE
Graduation. We were back at Earth, but still on the Devastator. Tomorrow we would have a parade through our home cities, and then we would wave goodbye to Earth and head to war, never to return.
That was the marine’s creed: you never come back.
It meant something new to me, as I stood at attention and stared at the back of Taylor’s head. Was I the same person that had left Earth, all those weeks ago? No, I don’t think I was—and not just in a physical sense. Mentally, I had changed. I had matured. I had grown.
“Attention!” the drill sergeant bellowed, and we all snapped to attention in perfect unison. The sergeant lingered for a moment, surveying us. A sly smile crept onto his lips.
“Dismissed!”
Perhaps there should have been a cheer, but there was too much discipline inside us, now. Too much exhaustion, too—we bore the scars of training and it showed. Beth must have sensed me looking at her man and turned to stare at me. Her face was blank. Mine was, too. Whatever had been was gone, and in its place was… Nothing. Emptiness.
There was nothing left but war, now. No more dreams, no more hopes for the future.
It was almost funny: I was heading off to war, but I was finally at peace. I was ready for it. My identity was whatever the marine corps wanted it to be. My body was theirs. I would go where they ordered, kill who they ordered, and die when they ordered.
My name was: marine!
Also by the same author:
Origin: Unknown
A Man of Evil
The Challenger
Servitude
Moral Code
The Good Terrorist
The Albatross in the Desert
Preacher Man
The Last Mammoth
Centurion Blood
Terraformer
Exiled
Lost Fortune
Nightmare Ship
Slaves of Rome
© 2019, James Scholes
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