“That’s a great idea,” Harris told me eagerly. He’d reappeared from somewhere. “Leeson and his muscle heads will flush this thing out, or nobody can.”
“Harris, you’re up next. If the weaponeers fail, you’re going to do the job.”
“With what?”
“Force-blades, if you have to. Get going!”
“Shit…” Harris called up his platoon, and they marched upward resolutely.
I followed with the ragtag specialists and injured troops who weren’t much good for fighting monsters. This was it, we were going to do or die right here.
Some might have thought I was mad to march right into the jaws of a half-seen leviathan, but the way I figured it, we didn’t have much choice. Whatever this thing was, it was native to this environment. It could outmaneuver us and take it’s time. If we waited until it seemed to go away, it would just come back later, dogging us when we were all strung out on the pathway and virtually helpless.
Worse, we couldn’t afford to screw around. We were slowly running out of power, air—everything. A waiting game could only benefit the monster.
No, the time to move was right now. We knew where it was, and we were going to gut it if possible. Maybe we’d all die right here. I knew that was a distinct possibility, but I couldn’t see how we could hope to get a better shot at it later on.
It was now or never.
We advanced a dozen shuffling steps. Then two dozen more.
That’s about as far as we made it upslope before the creature—if it truly was a creature—took notice.
It stopped dipping and dragging its silvery loop of wire. Instead, it snatched the line up and away.
“It’s gone!”
“It’s running!”
My troops gawked overhead like dummies. They stopped walking and turned in circles, trying to see it again.
“Keep moving, dammit!” Harris shouted. “March men, march!”
He’d beaten me to it this time. The troops obeyed, moving uphill at an increased pace. The floating dust from the seabed rose up in a hazy brownish-gray cloud.
“Weaponeers,” I called out. “Stand your ground until ten troops pass, then start moving uphill again one at a time. I want you placed evenly throughout the column. I have a feeling your belchers are our best defense. Kivi, you and Natasha start rigging up some explosives in our wake. Nothing too smart, no mobile crawlers. Just proximity mines on a timer.”
“But sir,” Natasha complained. “An explosion might rupture this field we’re in. If it collapses, we’ll collapse. The water could come in and crush us.”
“How sure are you that this will happen?”
“I’m not at all sure, Centurion. I’m giving you a possible scenario.”
“Kivi? What do you think?”
“Uh… I don’t know. It could happen. But unless we actually blow up one of these rails, I doubt it will.”
I thought that over. “The order stands,” I said. “We’re in a bad way down here, and we’ve got to take some risks. Deploy the mines at the rear of the column.”
They did as I ordered, and the rest of them moved upslope in a scrambling trot.
Suddenly, a part of the ocean water rippled right in front of me. I almost jumped out of my skin. Then Della appeared.
“McGill? This thing is hunting us.”
“No shit. Did you see any details? You were up close and personal with it.”
“Not really, but it knew I was there. It kept dipping that loop into the field, dragging it over the seabed, trying to snare me.” She gave a little shudder. “Now I know what it’s like to be a crab under a rock with a predator lurking nearby.”
“Yeah… that’s what it is, isn’t it? A predator. That could be a good thing. If it’s a natural creature that just happens to live down here, it won’t be too determined. It might flee if we give it a hotfoot. Also, it’s not likely to be working as part of a team.”
“All true James, but … it’s intelligent. It was using an improvised tool. It’s been stalking us for many hours now. Don’t underestimate it.”
“Good advice.”
Della disappeared again, and I didn’t give her any special orders. As far as I was concerned, she’d done her job and then some. If a ghost could flush an enemy and not die—well sir, that was as good as it got in her line of work.
For about ten long minutes, nothing really bad happened. The troops slogged along, with Natasha and Kivi playing sapper in the rear. They dropped a dozen mines before I told them to save the rest.
Everyone began to breathe more easily. Sure, we were still looking around with wide eyes, but we didn’t have that icy edge of panic in the back of our minds any longer. It was beginning to look like the sea creature had moved on.
After the tenth minute passed, however, we heard a crump behind us.
A shockwave ran through the water, and it kicked up dust and sent a gush of bubbles our way.
“Damn, that was close! Sound off! Anyone hurt?”
Kivi answered—but Natasha didn’t. They’d been in the rear, and Natasha had been blown off the path and crushed.
“Shit… Kivi, what happened? Did she screw up one of her bombs?”
“No sir, I don’t think so. We were done with laying the mines when it went off. It should have been behind us.”
“Oh… oh shit. Troops! Advance! At the double!” I shouted this last over tactical chat, so the entire unit heard me.
If there’s one thing a Varus man doesn’t do after his first dozen deaths, it’s hesitate. They all kicked up the pace as one. Everyone began to jog, whether they were sipping water, playing with their dicks or chatting to a friend on their tappers. They all moved at once.
I saw it a moment later.
