CHAPTER 4. KRILLAZ ATTACK!
The thought flashed through my brain like the speed of light. Krillaz. And Clemency was alone and in a very vulnerable position. Instantly, I turned round and kicked open the rest room's door. In my mind's eye I visualised the horror I'd find. She'd be buried under a pile of Krillaz, all of them ripping and tearing her into shreds; her vocal cords chewed out, eyes bulging, fresh arterial blood running in rivers.
I've always had a vivid imagination.
The door crashed into the tiled wall, bouncing back onto my boot. My Mettallist Hi-Ripper's short barrel moved to cover every danger point – the ceiling, the dark space within a cleaner's cupboard, the other cubicles.
Clemency screamed. "Get out, get out!" She was sitting, her combat trousers down past her knees.
"Sorry, ma'am, my mistake," I muttered, backing out of the rest room.
Voices came loud and clear over our comms-link. "What's going on back there?" Kham demanded, alarm in his voice.
"I thought I heard something," I explained as best I could.
"There's nothing here," Çrámerr's voice broke in. "Nothing recent, nothing that could have belonged to your Âgustin's team. Looks like nobody's been here since the initial Krilla attacks."
I had to agree with his assessment.
"We should have gone onto the north coast. We're wasting our time; there's no Krillaz here," Geroge NcDona moaned.
"Yes there are, dost. Just because we can't see them, doesn't mean they aren't here," said Kham with the voice of experience. "Now the excitement's over, let's move out."
Clemency came out of the rest room. She couldn't meet my eye as we walked in silence back under the main part of the dome where we regrouped.
"This was the last location Âgustin's GPS was detected. However, that doesn't mean he met his end here. It could have been damaged," Kham said.
"Where would he be likely to go next?" I asked.
Kham thought for a moment. "If his GPS was damaged, that probably meant injuries. I think anyone would try for the hospital. Although it would have been wrecked by Krillaz, there might still be facilities to tend injuries – overlooked medical equipment and the like."
That made sense. "Where's the nearest hospital then?" asked Çrámerr.
Kham checked his GPS link. "The Tisht-Ravat Memorial Infirmary. It's only two kilometres away."
"Let's get the ball rolling," Çrámerr said. "Hopefully we'll find some Krillaz lurking about."
We formed up and made our way out of the ex-Botanic gardens. Out into the howling gale – at least the rain had tapered off for the time being – and the sun cast its weak, blood-red rays through the clouds. We passed ruined ground-cars on both sides of the road. We were in the centre of Bas-Hinna so the boulevard was lined with what had once been upmarket department stores, hotels, restaurants and apartment blocks for the city's wealthier people.
It must have once been a good place to live, even on this miserable world. What do they say? Life is what you make of it? But that was then, this is now. Bryophytes covered any surface where they could find a toehold. Or should that be root-hold? The road surface was cracked and potholed with 'mosses' pushing their way through the Konkreet as they reclaimed this urban environment for wilderness. Only larger bones had lasted outside but we saw very few.
But I couldn't shake off a feeling of being watched. Nothing definite, more a case of sixth sense. Several times, I wheeled around covering side streets or entrance halls as we passed them by. I more than half expected to hear the scratching of Krilla's claws, the chittering squeals of their cries followed by the rush of their foul bodies as they fell on us in a tidal wave of ferocity, overwhelming us with blood-lust.
Nothing happened but I think all of us felt brooding menace. Certainly the execs bunched together in a tighter group until Kham brusquely commanded us to spread out. Clemency found herself near me. She must have realised I'd meant no harm and I hadn't seen anything.
"It's a bit of a long-shot, this?" she asked. "How do you think you'll find Âgustin if he's not at this hospital?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But I've got a week. Something will turn up."
"Unless the Krillaz dragged his body down to their lair," Çrámerr broke in over the link.
"Thanks."
But although Krillaz love flesh, they have no use for armour or advanced weapons. They wouldn't bother hauling them underground. I've heard rumours that the very brightest Krillaz use clubs and even knives but that's their technological limit.
We turned off the main drag and down another road, still wide, that would take us to the hospital. A building had burned out and before the rains quenched the flames, fire had spread to neighbouring businesses. The feeling of being observed increased as we scrambled over fallen debris and rubble. It must have been some time ago as bryophytes smothered everything.
Rocks sailed out of the buildings, raining down around us. Lumps of Konkreet, stone, rusted office equipment. Instantly, we wheeled around, crouching. From the upper storeys we saw a tribe of Krillaz. One, a large male, lifted what had been a chair and hurled it down. It struck Geroge, knocking him down. From the glassless window we heard their shrill chittering cries mixed in with shrill howls and grunts.
Bad mistake. It must have been some time since this tribe had encountered hunters. Or maybe they were so fed up with chomping on bryophytes or old bones that their blood-lust overruled their caution. All the same, we opened up with everything we had.
It was long range for my Mettallist Hi-Ripper but as a very rapid fire weapon I hosed it up at the monsters. The big male – well, basically my Hi-Ripper did what it should. It ripped the Krilla apart. Meanwhile, Hari Thalami's Gatling PPD's plastic flechettes shredded the group to its left. They fell back, a hail of razor-sharp shards chasing them deeper into the building. I doubt if any made it.
Sharp blasts from Geroge NcDona's Flux-Blaster followed a couple of seconds later. Boom-boom-boom. Bolts of super-heated plasma crashed in and around the window, exploding in gouts of orange-blue energy. A scream, surprisingly hi-man-like, sounded from the opening. Then silence, except for bursts of weapon fire.
"Cease fire," Kham commanded. "They're all dead."
A few seconds later, possibly only after they had run out of ammo, it all fell quiet. There was a smell of burned air and charred rat-meat.
"That was fun. Hey, let's go check 'em out," NcDona shouted, his fist pumping the air. His expression looked like he'd just single-handedly won a war.
"There won't be much left. Your flux-blaster will have totally destroyed them."
Both NcDona and Çrámerr looked disappointed but followed Kham's lead as he crossed the rubble and down the road. The rest of us followed, me taking the rear as usual. We heard more shrill chittering in the distance and once a group of Krillaz hurriedly crossed a side street.
They ran in a curiously low-slung way, their forearms held out underneath them. Their backs were hunched, their tails held out behind them for balance. One of them looked at us as it passed, its horribly long-snouted, heavy-jawed yet hi-manoid face filled me with loathing. It yawned showing its yellowed, rat-like incisors and hyena fangs. Instinctively I raised my Hi-Ripper and fired. The shards fell short but the Krillaz swerved away.
Clemency also watched them but didn't waste her ammo.
"Should have given me a shout," Çrámerr called over the link. "I'd have wiped 'em out for you."
"You'll get your bag," NcDona told his leader supportively.
I kept silent. I didn't like the way the Krillaz also seemed to be heading in the general direction of the hospital. It was like they knew where we were heading. Of course, it could be only coincidence but... I kept my thoughts to myself as we approached our destination.
The Tisht-Ravat Memorial Infirmary had been equally trashed. We entered through the main entrance. All the glass was smashed and lay in dull shards over the floor. Bryophytes had colonised the entrance foyer, festooning it with their g
rey-green fronds. We crunched through the entrance and saw long, gloomy corridors stretching away on either side. The hospital was vast.
"If he did ever come here, where do you think Âgustin would have gone?" Hari Thalami asked. A good question.
I'd never met the guy so I put myself in his shoes. Where would I go if I, or somebody in my group, was injured? The operating theatre or the pharmacy and hope that there was still some equipment or medicines I could use. A long shot but that would be my guess. I looked up at the signs. Of course, they were in local script but using my neural implant I translated them.
"We'll never cover the whole hospital. We'll split up into two teams," Kham decided after a moment's thought. I don't think we'll come across anything we can't handle. But stay in touch."
Perhaps I should have reminded them of the group of Krillaz we saw earlier heading in this direction but didn't. I was thinking more about searching through this vast building for Âgustin. Also, I didn't think a bunch of unarmoured beasties with no weapons would prove any threat. How wrong I was.
Clemency, Hari Thalami and myself became the 'B' team, leaving the Alpha-male types to take the part of the 'A' team. The pharmacy was closest so we checked it first. Unsurprisingly, it was wrecked – maybe because people had made their last stand here. Skeletons of both hi-mans and Krillaz lay strewn about among corroded weapons and rotten armour. I noticed two skeletons locked in their death-throes. A Krilla's long snout locked on a man's neck while his pistol was jammed into what had been the Krilla's belly. They had killed each other in the same instant.
What was left of the medicines had long spoiled. Packages and broken bottles lay scattered about the bodies. But there was no sign of any recent activity. The bryophytes hadn't got this far yet but moulds and mildews still colonised the walls and ceiling.
We turned left and followed signs to the operating theatres. They were on the same level. We passed overturned trolleys, rusting oxygen cylinders and the usual clutter you'd find in any busy hospital. And more skeletons – many more – both hi-man and Krilla. It looked as if the vermin knew sick and injured people would take shelter here and had made a bee-line straight for it.
I scanned the dirty corridor floor for recent tracks but didn't see anything. That didn't lift my spirits – but it was early days yet.
"What was that?" Thalami said, his voice higher pitched than normal. He wheeled around, facing back down the long passageway. Turning his head-lamp up to the max, the beam of bright white light made every shadow stand out in sharp contrast. Infected by the little guy's jumpiness, I turned my ear-piece up, listening for any sounds, and heard scratching in the distance.
"Could be the 'A' team?" Clemency suggested. She licked her lips nervously, looking around. I realised that this management excursion wasn't her idea of a good time.
"Maybe. But keep your fingers on the trigger, folks," I suggested.
We made our way through a set of double doors into a scrub room. Sinks lined one wall. Beyond was the operating room itself. A rusting robot-doc hung from the ceiling, its vast array of precision arms limp and dead. I shook my head. I doubted Âgustin had ever come here. Other doors led off the theatre – probably to recovery rooms.
Nobody needed their enhancements for what came next. We all heard scratching and shrill chattering from the next room.
"Here they come," I shouted. The Krillaz genetically enhanced blood-lust had triumphed. They wanted flesh – red, raw meat; hot and fresh. The doors burst open and a flood of Krilla's leaped into the theatre. The first thing I noticed was their heavy-jawed muzzles – their faces looked more like hyenas than rats – with a row of razor-sharp teeth designed to rend and tear. Above, heavy-lidded eyes stared at us with pure hatred.
Their hands – no, not paws – reached for us, eager to pull us down when they would overrun us. A few carried clubs – any length of twisted metal would do – which they raised high to smash us to the ground.
"Let 'em have it," I shouted, opening up with my M-88 Mettallist Hi-Ripper. At the same time Hari Thalami's Gatling PPD blazed away. Over the harsh shredding sounds of our very rapid-fire weapons, I heard the louder booms of Clemency's Bassoonka – it looks a little like an old-fashioned musical instrument but instead of notes, it fires high explosive shells. Nasty.
The front wave of Krillaz had no chance. They were shredded to slices – deep gashes and slashes opening on their bodies as the flechettes bit deep. They went down in heaps. Some screamed and howled their agony and rage, others died instantly. But they all died. Blood sprayed in arcs and gouts.
The sight of blood enraged the others. The second wave leaped over the bodies howling and hissing. They also died, just like their mates an instant before. Bloody heaps piled up before us. But the third wave – those Krillaz reached us.
Now we were in trouble. While we were able to keep our distance, our weapons more than negated the Krilla's numbers. No way could a creature armed only with claws and teeth beat modern weapons. But directly on top, with us unable to freely use our weapons – that was a different story.
A big male, jaws open wide, leaped on me. I staggered back from the impact, fetching up against the operating table itself. I managed to wedge my Hi-Ripper into his belly and squeezed the trigger. Guts, flesh and visceral blood sprayed out, washing over its mates. The Krilla collapsed down around my boots. It tried to bite my ankles even as it died.
More blood just enraged the others. Three more leaped onto me. Their strong jaws biting and tearing at my armour. Super-Kevlar is tough but nothing short of battle-dress can withstand a Krilla's jaws for long. One of them went for the weak spot between my shoulder and helmet. I felt its hot breath as its evil eyes stared into mine.
I slipped on the tangle of guts at my feet and crashed to the floor. More Krillaz piled onto me, pinning me down. I was in deep trouble now. One pinioned my arm to the ground. Instinctively I pulled the trigger. A stream of metallic shards sprayed out over the floor, tearing up still another's leg. It toppled over, clutching its ruined limb, its scream surprisingly hi-man.
But that didn't worry its friends. More food for later. They carried on piling onto me, worrying and biting my armour, trying to tear through to the meat underneath. My tender body in other words.
"Hari!" I screamed over the noise from the Krillaz.
Krillaz Page 5
