The Dogs of God

by Chris Kennedy

  Vance nodded. “Apologies, Corporal.”

  Egger double-checked her HUD’s topo map to see that Second Platoon’s icon was still positioned more than 375 meters ahead. “I’m gonna take it out,” she said, focusing on the squib again. “I want you both watching the windows on either side in case more get flushed out.”

  “Copy that,” they replied, and then set up against a burnt-out skiff, blasters up.

  “You ready?” Egger aimed at the Simikon’s face and then zoomed in. The beast’s long incisors glinted in the afternoon sun.

  “Ready,” Vance said.

  “Same,” Stowe added.

  Egger slowed her breathing, steadied her aim, and squeezed the trigger. The round streaked across the street and into the window’s corner, striking the squib in the jaw. The creature screamed and fell from the edge. The thing was a little larger than a spaceball and seemed to be a mess of spindly legs and fluttering wings.

  “You got it, Corporal,” Stowe said. “Nice shot.”

  “Thanks,” Egger replied, but she couldn’t help feeling that something was off. She glanced at the nearest buildings, looking for movement. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

  “Roger.”

  “Do you want us to go up and check it out?” Vance asked. “See if it’s a nest?”

  “Negative,” Egger replied. “We’re proceeding toward Second Platoon’s position.”

  “Hey, look.” Stowe pointed down the street. “There’s another one. Fifty meters.”

  “Splick,” Egger said. “Range finders. They’re tracking us.”

  Vance turned his head. “You sure, Corporal?”

  “I’m sure. You take it out. Stowe, you and I keep watch.” Egger led them down the street until Vance set up on the second squib from behind a sandstone column. A single blaster round streaked across the street and into the adjacent building’s second story.

  “Got it,” Vance said as the Simikon scout thrashed about on the upper veranda.

  Egger looked back and saw Loo and the rest of the squad following twenty-five meters behind. Again she reported the find to her sergeant, and then continued down the street toward an intersection. According to her HUD, Second Platoon was around the corner and to the left another two hundred meters. Faintly, she could hear their weapons fire ringing off the buildings.

  “You think those are going to be a problem?” Loo asked Egger on a private channel.

  She ignored the small voice in the back of her head that said, “Hell, yes!” She’d done enough research on the Simikon to know some of their tactics. Range finder scouts—like the two her fire team had taken out—were meant to gauge the enemy’s location. But her HUD didn’t show any new hordes in the vicinity. Instead, the Simikon were massing further to the east, as Second Platoon had discovered.

  “No, Sergeant,” Egger replied. “They’re loners. We’re clear to advance.”

  “Roger that.”

  Egger waved Vance and Stowe forward. They continued down the street, walking across the glass from blown out storefronts and weaving between columns that once designated outdoor seating areas. Everywhere there was rubble and the charred remains of both buildings and their inhabitants. While the Repub was new to this conflict, the Miblimbian’s war against the Simikon had been raging for several months. It was only after half of the capital’s population had been wiped out by the blight that Capriana’s high tower finally decided to get involved.

  They approached the intersection, and Egger held up a fist. Her unit stacked up behind her, and she scanned the cross street in both directions. To her right, which led south, there was only wreckage and street fires. But to her north, she could see what remained of Second Platoon pinned down behind a few rows of old skiffs.

  “Great mystics,” Vance whispered as he looked around her shoulder. “Are you guys seeing this?”

  “Whaddya got, Egger?” Loo asked. She could tell he was running to catch up with her.

  “They’re holding their line but need our help,” Egger said.

  “We clear to proceed?”

  Egger looked up and down the cross street one more time. She wanted to do a full scan of the vicinity, not trusting the orbital sensors, but based on the scene unfolding to the north, there was no time. “Doesn’t matter if we’re clear, sir. They’re goners if we don’t back them up.” Without another word, Egger rolled out and started running north.

  The Simikon fell on Second Platoon by the dozen, pouring over the sides of the adjacent buildings and climbing over the makeshift barricades. They shrieked as they moved, most running on their spindly legs. In the densest pockets, Egger couldn’t even see sandstone between the aliens.

  Second Platoon’s three RAB25 gunners were the most effective. The hip-fired 25mm rotary-action blaster sprayed torrents of high-frequency energy up and down the line, decimating the enemy ten at a time. Even as far away as she was, Egger noticed the rotating barrels’ red glow. But despite their unrelenting firepower, not even the RABs were enough to keep the Simikon at bay—the squibs’ numbers seemed insurmountable.

  “Find someone and double up,” Sergeant Loo yelled over the squad channel.

  As they ran up the street, Sergeant Worth’s First Squad emerged a block north and turned left to join Second Platoon. Similarly, Egger looked over her shoulder and saw Sergeant Pemberton’s Third Squad step into the street 150 meters back. The fact that neither squad had encountered significant numbers during their east-bound advance relieved Egger. Maybe she was getting worried about nothing.

  For her part, Egger led Vance and Stowe toward the right flank, joining six Marines as they fired up the face of a four-story building covered with Simikon. She raised her MC87 and fired on the closest creature she saw. Its eight beady red eyes blew apart as her three-round burst struck the half biological, half robotic creature in the head. But the squib kept running down the building face even though its head was blown in. So Egger fired again, splitting the body in two. The spindly legs bound each body half to the wall, while more squibs climbed over the corpse.

  Mandibles flared, and the beasties let out a hissing sound that made Egger think her helmet’s audio was shorting out. One leaped off the building and dropped toward her, mouth agape. She squeezed the trigger and watched as dark blue fluid whipped into the air. The Simikon’s body twisted apart, filleted by bolts. By the time it met her, Egger felt only globules of hardware and bone pelt her armor.

  “Get that splick off you, Corporal,” a voice yelled from beside her. It was a Marine from Second Platoon. Egger looked at her vambrace and saw some of the fluid beginning to smoke and glow bright blue. Wiping it off with her other glove would only spread the acid.

  “I gotcha,” another Marine said, stepping to her side and wiping her arm with a cloth while firing at a squib flying overhead. Its eight segmented legs dangled in the air, while its wings strained to keep the spider-like beastie aloft. His single shot punched a hole through the squib’s chin and sent it careening into the side of a building.

  “Thanks,” Egger replied and then fired at a new target of her own. “They didn’t give us one of those yet.”

  “Cloth is from the locals,” the Marine replied. “Ceramic fibers. Here—” he tossed the rag to Egger, “—I’ve got two.”

  Egger nodded and then aimed at another squib coming down the building face. This time, she made sure to keep from splitting the body, and then stayed clear of any juices as the creature fell. Egger felled two more beasties, and then a third, as she found her rhythm. Before she knew it, her MC87 had run through an entire mag. She swapped out for a new one, which she kept on her back per Norse’s instructions.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Loo said over the platoon channel as Sergeant Pemberton and Third Squad arrived.

  “Can’t let you have all the fun,” Pemberton replied.

  He’d no sooner said the words than a Marine exploded toward the center of the front line. The sudden release of electrical energy was accompanied by a giant
fireball and a shower of sparks. Four other troopers flew aside, two of whom looked mortally wounded. Their bodies slammed to the ground, tripping up their brothers in arms and temporarily stalling the steady wave of defending blaster fire.

  “Fill the gap and check yourselves,” Sergeant Worth ordered.

  Egger looked down and didn’t see any more of the glowing blue acid on her body or her weapon. Her blaster was up and firing within a second, popping off three more squibs in the time it took other Marines to fill in the line.

  “Damn, you’re a good shot,” said the Marine who’d given her the ceramic cloth. “Name’s Longo.”

  “Egger,” she said. “And you’re not so bad yourself.”

  “It’s only because they’re so close. I barely qualified for long-range.”

  “I’ll remember that once the field opens up.”

  Longo chuckled. “I don’t blame you. And hey, just in case—” he pulled a sleek looking combat knife from his chest plate, “—use this on the bastards in CQB.”

  Egger hesitated, knowing that a close-quarters battle weapon like this was expensive and rare. “You sure?”

  “I have another one, and I see you’re without. Bought ‘em off a Recon buckethead. Thing’s made of duradex, so it won’t melt in the squibs’ juices.”

  “No kidding.” Egger took the offered weapon and slid it in her chest plate. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. Plus, you’re kinda cute.” It was an old Marine pickup line. Rarely did anyone see what another Marine looked like, because everyone always had their helmets on. Still, it worked for Longo.

  “Does giving women knives normally get them to lift their helmets for you?” She fired her MC87 over her cover and nailed a squib running up the skiff.

  “Nah,” Longo replied. “Why, is it working on you?”

  “Nope,” she lied.

  “Eh. It was worth a shot.”

  Egger aimed at three more squibs that ran south across a building face, presumably to get behind the platoons. “High marks for not quitting, Longo. Thanks for the knife.” She fired, tracking the demons to the ground. Then she saw something glint in the street to the south.

  It was a set of mandibles.

  She let her eyes hover on the squib, and her HUD zoomed in once, then twice. There, 250 meters away, was a pocket of squibs crouched beside a burnt-out supply crate. She wondered what they were waiting for. That’s when she noticed the second cluster of squibs skittering down the opposite side of the street. Then several more pouring out a window, and then another batch leaping off a building and using their short-flight wings to advance north.

  “Sergeant Loo,” she exclaimed. “Contact to the south!”

  Loo turned, then jumped on the company channel. “We have multiple sightings to the south, plus 200 meters, bearing 5º.” Even as Loo spoke, more squibs emerged from the side streets, including the main thoroughfare Egger’s squad had used to advance from the COP.

  “Dammit,” she said to herself. The range finders weren’t alone. She didn’t know how, but the squibs had stayed off the orbital sensor scans.

  “Requesting immediate backup,” Loo added, his voice tight.

  “Copy that,” Lieutenant Norse said from the COP. “We’re sending help your way. ETA five minutes.”

  Egger felt Loo hesitate upon hearing the time frame. More squibs were appearing than she could count, and the situation was going from bad to unsurvivable in seconds.

  “Roger,” Loo said. “We’ll keep them back as long as we can.” The sergeant spoke over the platoon channel next. “Second Squad, on me. Cover our six.”

  “We’re with you too,” Pemberton replied, having just come from the south.

  “You didn’t see any of these little bitches a second ago?” Loo asked as he started to run.

  “Negative. Scouts only. But we didn’t have time for local scans.”

  “Right.”

  Egger thought she heard Loo curse under his breath.

  “Let’s push ‘em back, people.”

  “On it,” Pemberton replied, ordering Third Squad to detach from the defensive line to cover the rear.

  Seeing a deep pocket of squibs moving along the left sidewalk, Egger flipped her MC87 to full auto and aimed. When she squeezed the trigger, a blistering stream of blaster bolts ripped into the Simikon line, tossing the alien bodies up as her fire went down the sidewalk.

  “Fragger out,” someone yelled on the right flank. A Marine lobbed a variable output detonator toward the advancing Simikon line. As soon as the VOD touched the hardback, it exploded, sending a plume of squib parts flying into the air. At this distance, annihilating the little bodies didn’t matter because there was nothing left for their blood to detonate.

  Several more VODs arced through the air, blasting holes in the enemy’s advance. But the droves were growing denser. Egger knew she wasn’t the only one wondering how the two platoons were going to defend two fronts when the first platoon was already barely holding on.

  Surely feeling the same apprehension, Sergeant Loo said, “We’ve got to keep them from closing off an exit back to the COP. We’ll defend our street as main egress.”

  All units reported in affirmatively as they pushed forward, firing on the Simikon with every step.

  Egger lobbed her own VOD, calling it out over the platoon channel. The detonator sailed through the air and accidentally struck a flying squib. The creature was flash-incinerated, as were a dozen others in proximity to it. Their bodies whizzed out of control. One in particular veered north.

  “Heads up,” Egger yelled. The squib leaked a trail of blood as it flew toward Third Squad. Someone blew the creature apart, but gore flung forward and touched off a Marine’s VOD, which was in mid throw. The resulting explosion obliterated his torso and mutilated three other Marines beside him. The blast wave struck Egger, forcing her to take several steps to the side. The blow felt as though someone had taken a durite-tipped sledgehammer to the side of her helmet. Her HUD flickered, but the armor’s integrity held.

  Egger swallowed a throat full of bile as her brain replayed the incident, beginning with her fragger toss. She had been the cause of those downed Marines.

  With almost half of third squad dead or out of commission, Egger felt her leaders growing anxious—hell, she was starting to get nervous. But they still had a job to do, and nerves got Marines killed. She fired on a small cluster of squibs moving down a building face, but her MC87 only seemed to be making room for reinforcements to fill the enemy’s line. She swapped out for a fresh mag, racked the first charge, and then raised her weapon to see a gray mass amble around a distant corner.

  “What in Vesper’s twin bitches is that?” Vance asked.

  “I don’t know,” Egger replied. “But I don’t think I want to hang around to find out.” As she spoke, the mass came into view, sporting eight legs, two wings, and a toothy maw capable of swallowing a person whole. The Simikon giant was the size of a bus, and Egger swore she felt the ground tremble as it walked.

  “Aww, hell no,” Stowe shouted. He racked a fresh mag and opened fire on the creature, sending a torrent of blaster fire downrange. But the enemy was too far away for his shots to count, and those that did seemed to deflect off the creature’s metallic hide.

  “Are you seeing this, Sarge?” Egger asked Loo.

  “Affirmative.” Loo switched off the channel, but based on the way he was pointing down the street, Egger guessed he was speaking to Lieutenant Norse.

  A moment later it was Norse’s voice on the platoon channel. “All units, fall back to Zimorran Street, fourth block.”

  Egger replied with a green icon on her squad leader’s command tree just as Loo called out orders. “Second Squad, sidestep right, adjusting fire left.”

  Egger acknowledged the order and kept one eye on Vance and Stowe to make sure they were moving in line with everyone else. The other eye stayed on the giant Simikon that crawled down the street toward them. It was coming in range now
, and several Marines were already firing on it, probably to see what effect their blasters might have, which was, apparently, none. Knowing that a CO would call for an SMDL at any moment, Egger decided to lend her blaster power to the more immediate threat of smaller squibs converging on the intersection.

  She blasted four beasties that tried to climb over a delivery skiff that had long lost its logo placard, though it was still hovering. The squibs charged along the cargo bed and then leaped over the cockpit’s roof, attempting to take flight. But Egger made sure they didn’t get more than a meter, dropping the first three to the ground in a heap.

  The fourth one, however, never made it off the vehicle’s hood. Egger’s amazement turned to horror as the creature’s juices melted through the metal and landed on the electronics deeper within the skiff.

  “Everyone down,” she yelled over the squad channel. The squib’s acid touched off the skiff’s drive core in an explosion that rivaled anything a VOD could do. Egger’s audio sensors clamped down in an attempt to save her hearing. Even with the safety measure, the sound managed to find her head, piercing it like a thunderclap to her temples. She winced and lost her balance.

  To her left, she saw Stowe take a piece of shrapnel to the chest. A half-meter section of the skiff’s door hit him like a Mangronic war scythe, knocking his feet out from underneath him. His back slammed against the road, and Egger was on him in a second.

  “Man down,” she shouted. The metal stuck straight up, limiting her access to Stowe’s med-pack. “Stowe! Can you hear me?”

  Stowe let out a wet cough.

  “Stowe! Talk to me, dammit.” She struggled with Stowe’s helmet—his blood made it hard to grasp. Suddenly, his hand reached out and grabbed her bicep, squeezing hard, and then fell to the ground.

  Egger gritted her teeth in frustration. Loo had warned her about pushing too hard. So was Stowe’s death on her? Or was it just a consequence of war?

  Blaster fire snapped Egger out of her momentary trance. She turned and started firing on the closest squibs she could target, which wasn’t hard, as the enemy was converging on their location. To the north, Second Platoon was running to join Third. Egger reached down and grabbed Stowe under the shoulders. Her HUD said he was gone, but she’d be damned if she left his body behind.