Click Click Boom (War Wolves Book 2)

by Jonathan Yanez

  The queen reared back on her legs, trying to block the yellow blaster fire as it struck the wound Atlas had already given her. The Zenoth queen landed hard, sending a shower of sand all around her.

  Riot hit the queen in quick bursts of fire. Unlike the repurposed alien weapon she used, the Trilord war hammer had two options: quick bursts of fire that wouldn’t overheat the weapon, or a salvo of concentrated fire good for a few seconds that would cause the weapon to overheat.

  The queen swatted at Riot with the three arms that remained. Riot ducked and weaved around the blows. She adjusted her aim up to the queen’s face and battered it with even more rounds.

  The queen screamed in pain. Green blood spurted from one of the queen’s mangled eyes.

  Riot jumped over one of the queen’s whip-like appendages. She rolled to her right as another bore straight down on her. It sunk deep into the sand where Riot had just been a moment before.

  An idea exploded in Riot’s weary mind, a plan so idiotic that in some kind of twisted way it made sense. Releasing her hold on the trigger, Riot assumed a wide stance next to the queen’s arms still stuck in the sand beside her. Raising the war hammer over her head, she swung down onto the queen’s arm with every ounce of strength she had left.

  A loud crack rewarded her efforts as the green appendage was driven deeper into the sandy terrain.

  A scream of blind rage erupted from the queen as she swiped down with her last two remaining arms. Riot felt hot searing pain rip through her right calf and her left shoulder as the queen punctured her armor.

  “Ahhhhh!” Riot snarled in pain as the fingers of unconsciousness caressed the edges of her vision.

  24

  There was chatter over the comms, but nothing that was said made any sense at the moment. The agony of white hot pain was making everything else too difficult to comprehend. Riot’s plan was working. She just had to hope and hold on a bit longer.

  The queen lifted Riot into the air, bringing her toward her massive mouth. The queen’s one good eye examined Riot, the black orb unfeeling, unforgiving.

  The war hammer in Riot’s right hand threatened to fall.

  The queen opened a mouth the size of a manhole on a city street. Razor sharp teeth covered the top and bottom. A dark green, thin tongue swished back and forth.

  Come on, Riot coaxed the queen in her mind as she went limp in hope of faking the queen into thinking she had actually died. A little bit closer, you overgrown grasshopper.

  Two feet from entering the queen’s mouth, Riot reared back. With her right hand she shoved the war hammer into the queen’s open maw. The top of the war hammer pinned to the underside of the queen’s upper pallet. The bottom of the war hammer was pressed inside the lower half of the queen’s mouth.

  The Zenoth queen shook her head, trying to dislodge the war hammer. When that didn’t work, she tried bearing down on the weapon in hopes of snapping it in two. The Trilord weapon held fast.

  “I hope you don’t have any last words.” Riot pressed the trigger on the war hammer. “Because this Marine doesn’t speak Zenoth.”

  Yellow blaster fire ripped through the underside of the queen’s jaw, obliterating bone and flesh as it made its way through her brain. After a handful of blasts, the blaster fire succeeded in cracking a hole in the top of the queen’s skull.

  Riot held on to the weapon with both hands. Her left hand gripped the shaft for support. Her right hand was on the lower half of the weapon, holding down the trigger button.

  The queen’s two arms still piercing Riot quivered and tore deeper into Riot’s wounds as the queen fell in her death throes.

  Her appendages ripped out of Riot, taking chunks of flesh with them. Whether it was the nanites or through Riot’s will to survive, she managed to stay conscious and hold on. The queen toppled forward in stages, collapsing to the ground like a green avalanche.

  Riot hit the ground hard in a heap next to the queen. Her head bounced off the sandy soil. The air was sucked from her lungs as she dealt with both the pain from the blow and lack of oxygen.

  A dull buzz in her ear told her just how hard she had hit the ground. There was only so much even a high tech helmet could do.

  She was on her back, but she knew she had to move. Wang and Rizzo could be in trouble.

  With a flurry of pain coursing through her body, Riot managed to free herself from the queen’s grip and roll onto her stomach. The dead Zenoth queen still shook beside her. Riot lifted her head in the direction of her comrades. Rizzo, Wang, and the Spartans were giving as much as they got. It was hand-to-hand warfare. Rizzo and Wang bled across their armor where Zenoth pincers had found openings.

  The Spartans’ mechs were rent in a dozen different places. With their sword-length claws, they swung and battered back like heavyweight champions in a fifteen round fight. Their laser cannons were useless as they tried to regain their feet.

  The sheer numbers of the Zenoth were overwhelming. It seemed the death of their queen only infuriated them further instead of instilling any kind of desire to surrender. Hundreds more of the aliens fell, more than what had dropped out of the open hatch in the ship.

  The ship itself still rose from the ground. The monster of a craft was now three-quarters of the way out. In a matter of minutes, it would fully emerge and be completely airborne.

  “There’s too many of them,” Atlas screamed over his headset. Or maybe he had been yelling all along and Riot was only now able to focus on his words. “I can’t get up. They’re tearing through my armor.”

  “We’re with you.” Wang let out a wet gasp like there was blood in his mouth. “Don’t give up!”

  “Never give up!” Rippa screamed.

  Riot propped herself up against one of the extended arms of the dead Zenoth queen. She looked for her weapon, but there was nothing around her beside the carcass of the giant insect. A thousand Zenoth still offloading from the transport ship bore down on her now, no more than a hundred yards away.

  “Come on,” Riot grunted, pushing herself to her feet again. She faced the next wave of Zenoth soldiers. With no weapons to use, she put up her fists. “Get knocked down seven times, get back up eight. Let’s go!”

  VRRRROOOOOOM!

  BAM! BAM! BAM!

  It happened so fast, Riot wasn’t sure what she was seeing. A wall of flame engulfed the army of Zenoth bearing down on her. Grovothe Warwings screamed through the air over her, followed by the much larger Archangel transport units that used heavy guns on either side of their open craft doors.

  “Heard you could use a hand,” Troy’s voice lit up their comms like the voice of a miracle. “Stay where you are. Warwings are hitting them, danger close. I’m offloading shock troops now.”

  Hearing the voice of their salvation sent a wave of relief and exhaustion over Riot. It was as if somewhere her subconscious realized they were safe now, that she didn’t have to be strong anymore.

  Riot ignored these false sensations of peace. Her Marines and Ketrick were still in trouble, which meant the fight for her was still far from over.

  Riot turned from the wall of flame and the burning Zenoth in front of her, courtesy of the Grovothe Warwings, to the struggling Spartans and Marines behind her. An Archangel transport unit dropped ropes on either side of their open doors and grey-armored Grovothe shock troops rappelled down. Accompanying their descent were additional Archangel transport ships, their weapons loosing a wall of fire that eviscerated the Zenoth.

  The Zenoth still struggling with the Spartans and the Marines were cut down in a matter of seconds. The newly arriving Grovothe troops bore heavy rifles that looked like SAWs and wide-barreled shotguns that turned Zenoth into green goop.

  Weaponsfire still erupted over the carnage, but the Zenoth were already defeated whether they knew it or not. The Grovothe shock troops had them off of the Spartans and Marines by the time Riot limped over to Wang and Rizzo. The two men looked like they’d been put through a meat grinder. Their black-and-red armor
was torn and punctured in a dozen different locations. Their blood spilled from at least half of these spots all over their bodies, from their hands to their shins.

  Riot pulled off her helmet. “You two look horrible, like ‘sloppy drunks fell off a curb and messed up your prom dresses’ horrible.”

  “If I look how I feel, it must be pretty bad,” Wang said, pulling off his helmet. He ran a hand through his short Mohawk haircut. “We need to go check on Vet and Doctor Miller.”

  Rizzo’s right hand was a bloody mess of skin and twisted armor. He ignored the pain as he removed his own helmet. With solemn eyes, he nodded his chin over to the Spartans.

  Rippa, Atlas, and Brimley were out of their cockpits, yelling for help as they gathered around Ragnar’s mech.

  Riot and the others ran as fast as they could to help, but it was too late.

  Despite his own wounds over his head that sent a curtain of red blood down the left side of his face, Atlas ran toward his fallen brother. Tears fell from Atlas’s and Brimley’s eyes as they removed the still body of their friend from his cockpit. Rippa waved away the Grovothe medics who had come to see if there was anything to be done.

  With one final push, the Zenoth ship was finally through the ground. The doors at the front of the ship closed as the craft gained altitude. A squadron of Grovothe Warwings began lighting up the craft with heavy weaponsfire as it limped through the sky and made its feeble attempt at escape.

  The loud sound of flapping wings accompanied Vikta and Ketrick as they landed next to the group of mourning Spartans and Grovothe. Ketrick jumped off Vikta’s back and threw his war hammer to the side. Relief at seeing Riot safe, then anger at Ragnar’s still body, clouded his eyes.

  “I should have come back,” Ketrick said, shaking his head and baring his teeth in frustration. “I should have come back to help.”

  “And done what?” Rippa shook her head. “You single handedly kept the other Zenoth craft from escaping or bearing down on us. You did exactly what you should have done, giant. Ragnar wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

  “Rippa speaks the truth,” Atlas said, looking up from his friend’s body. “It played out how it was meant to. Ragnar died like any one of us would have wanted to: protecting his brother and sister. He’s with the Allfather now, and there is no better place to be.”

  Feelings and memories of those she had lost since the Syndicate had invaded the Earth all the way to the present day were beginning to bubble to the surface for Riot. Instead of acknowledging her feelings, she pushed them down and focused on a question she had been wondering since Ketrick arrived: Where was the ship he had been keeping at bay?

  Riot shaded her eyes with her right hand as she searched the large Raydon sky. Apparently, the Zenoth craft had rethought its initial decision of joining the fight on the ground and made a complete one-eighty. It now gained altitude in the east, trying to make for space.

  There was one major flaw in their escape route. The Grovothe Dreadnaught had broken through the planet’s atmosphere, heading straight for the Zenoth craft. Whether the Zenoth didn’t have time to turn their craft or had simply resolved themselves to their fate was uncertain. The one thing that seemed likely was that very soon there would be two more Zenoth ships crashing to the planet’s surface.

  “A Grovothe Archangel has been sent to pick up Corporal Vetash and Doctor Miller,” Rippa said as she joined Riot. “They’re safe. Vet will receive the very best care, as will your entire team.”

  Riot nodded along slowly. The Grovothe Warwings hounding the Zenoth ship that had just recently broken the planet’s surface hit a fuselage.

  KABOOOOOM!

  The ship erupted in flames and, losing altitude quickly, it slammed into the ground, sending up a mushroom cloud of smoke. A wave of sand billowed from its final landing spot.

  Shouts of approval from the Grovothe force on the ground rose into the air.

  “Thank you,” Riot said, turning her gaze once more to the Zenoth ship being intercepted by the Dreadnaught. “Saying I’m sorry for Ragnar just doesn’t seem like enough.”

  The Zenoth ship trying to reach space and disappear into hyperdrive was met with blaster fire from the Dreadnaught. Riot almost felt sorry for the weaponless Zenoth ship as it was swatted from the sky like a fly.

  Flames erupted from the blimp-shaped ship as the Dreadnaught weapons tore holes through its frame. What looked like a handful of tiny escape pods disengaged from the Zenoth craft as a few Zenoth made it to their escape crafts in time.

  Tiny specks Riot knew to be Warwings flew from the Dreadnaught’s hangar bay as they moved to intercept the escape pods.

  I could almost feel sorry for them, Riot thought. If I were capable of feeling sorry for an enemy that killed one of our team members and sent another one into a state of uncertain coma.

  “Thank you, nonetheless.” Rippa turned back to her unit. “You and your Marines are warriors unparalleled in the universe. Believe me. I’ve seen my fair share of planets and the various militia that protects them.”

  Riot nodded along with Rippa’s words. There was no reason to say more.

  Rippa walked back to where Atlas and Brimley sat with a still Ragnar, then stopped mid-stride. She pressed two fingers to her right ear.

  “What is it?” Ketrick asked the major. “Trouble?”

  “No.” Rippa held up a hand asking for a moment of silence.

  Riot thought for sure Ketrick would give her grief for hushing him. To her surprise, Ketrick remained content to give the Grovothe her time.

  What felt like a full minute stretched on before Rippa removed her hand from her ear and looked to Riot. “They’ve captured the Zenoth escape pods. One … one of the Zenoth was able to communicate. He said … he said he has information for a Warrant Officer Riot from Earth.”

  25

  The Valkyrie was more of a home to Riot than she realized. It wasn’t until the Marines had been given a ride back by Lieutenant Troy in his Archangel transport craft that Riot realized how much she had missed her ship.

  Riot, Wang, Rizzo, and Ketrick all took a corner of Vet’s stretcher as they offloaded him from the Archangel transport and moved him to the med bay inside the Valkyrie.

  “Everything I’m reading from his vitals points to no lasting injury. His nanites should have been able to keep him from going into the coma in the first place,” Wang rattled on as they placed the stretcher onto one of the exam tables in the Valkyrie’s med bay. “Now that we’re back, Doctor Miller and I can take a closer look.”

  Riot glanced down to a still Vet. His one good eye was closed as if he were sleeping. His chest rose and fell softly as if he would wake up at any moment, ready to give one of his signature scowls. But Vet would not be waking up any time soon. Not until Wang could figure out what induced his coma.

  “Get some rest.” Doctor Miller aided Wang in removing Vet’s armor and hooking him up to the equipment in the bay that would monitor his condition. “There’s nothing any of you can do. Rippa is sending over the Grovothe medics to see if there is anything they can do for him. Go take care of yourselves.”

  Riot looked over to Ketrick and Rizzo. If she looked anywhere close to the way they did, she understood Doctor Miller’s concern. Both men were streaked with sweat, and their bodies were covered in a combination of their own blood and the Zenoth’s green ooze. Rizzo’s armor and Ketrick’s vest were torn in a handful of places where the Zenoths’ pincers had gotten too close.

  In the back of Riot’s fatigued mind she knew, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stay by Vet’s side. She had a meeting with Admiral Tricon and a Zenoth prisoner who not only could speak but somehow knew her name.

  “Let me know as soon as he wakes up or if there is any change in his condition.” Riot nodded numbly to Wang and Doctor Miller before heading out of the room. The only things on her mind now were a shower and change before meeting with the Grovothe brass.

  Riot headed to her quarters, with Ket
rick and Rizzo following in her wake. Rizzo peeled off to the armory to return his armor. Ketrick lengthened his strides to join Riot.

  “Oh, great. You’re going to want to talk about feelings or something right now, aren’t you?” Riot rolled her shoulders as if she were preparing for a physical confrontation. “You know I’m not good at that stuff.”

  They reached Riot’s quarters. Ketrick moved to stand beside her, looking down at her with his bright red eyes. “I was just going to say I’m happy you’re safe. If you were to fall, I would have had to rip the rest of the Zenoth apart with my hands, and we would have missed our date.”

  Riot rolled her eyes, laughing at how ridiculous the Trilord was. It was pointless to try to reason herself out of anything at this point. Whether he knew it or not, Ketrick already meant more to her than she was willing to admit to herself.

  “Yeah, well, I’m glad you made it, too, Muscles,” Riot said. She felt a twinge of guilt as she thought about Vet lying in his unconscious state. “We all weren’t so lucky.”

  “Corporal Vetash will pull through from the fog that is wrapped around his mind. He’s strong, like you,” Ketrick said with such belief, Riot found herself wanting to believe him.

  “How do you know, though? How can you be so sure?”

  “I have faith.”

  “Faith?” Riot rolled her eyes again. “You’re too much sometimes.”

  “I don’t believe that Corporal Vetash was spared death with the Zenoth, only to be killed now. He will pull through.”

  “I wish I had your faith.” Riot leaned against her doorframe. She looked up at the Trilord prince, discovering yet another thing she admired about the warrior. “You need rest.”

  “So do you.”

  “Yeah, well.” Riot shrugged. “No rest for the wicked. I’ve got a meeting to find out how a Zenoth can communicate and how it knows my name.”

  Ketrick placed his left hand on the right side of Riot’s face.