Chapter 75

Chapter Seventy-Five

In the waning light of late afternoon, the tearing moss covering the ruins sounded uncomfortably loud to Connor. He tried setting his boots down more slowly, but that didn’t change a thing: The moss tore with a loud, deep pop.

And he was the quietest of the forward team.

If he paid attention, the sound of crunching or tearing moss occasionally came from Aubriella, Lem, and Tim Moon.

Gregor and Mosiah didn’t even seem to make an effort to keep quiet. The whole way through the woods, they’d griped about the pace and the heat baking them or about how hard it was to breathe the thick air.

Then across the open ground and the pollen-spewing scrub brush, they’d hissed and cursed.

Now in the ruins proper, they exhibited all the grace of a blind drunk.

Connor knew that he was letting his mind color the moment. The complaints were legitimate—the day had been brutal. And it wasn’t their noise that was troubling but the lack of all the noises that should have been there.

Where had the chittering lizards and their rotting smell gone?

What had become of the human-sized flying scorpions and the drone of their flapping wings?

No threat had presented itself since Martienne had set the ship back down on the low butte.

Something had changed.

Connor signaled a halt, then waved for Tim to follow to the shadowy entrance of a familiar standing ruin. A stench like rotting meat came from within.

Tim peered into the shadows. “You think he’s still in there?”

He. Rudy.

No one else cared about Drew. Selen had poisoned the well, turning the engineer into the cause of every problem they’d encountered.

But Connor cared. He hunched low. “I aim to find out. Watch my back.”

There was enough light this time to be sure bugs weren’t clinging to the ceiling above. Connor didn’t change his approach, staying low and testing the floor before putting weight on his forward leg.

At the hallway that separated the two big rooms of the building, he listened and tried to remember what had happened.

Chaos. They’d split up to be sure the building could be secure.

He stopped outside the entry to the other large room and drew his swords. Rudy had died just past there, and the stench of death was still strong. In such heat, maybe his body had ruptured.

Only one way to find out.

Connor rushed into the room, swords raised.

Nothing threatened from the ceiling, and no body remained near the entry. There were the dark stains of blood, which trailed off to the far door where the bugs had poured in that night, but no body.

He rushed over to the small chamber Drew had taken cover in. Something had hacked the entryway wider, and blood stained where she’d been crouched.

Once again, a bloody smear ran across the floor to the door.

Their bodies were gone, although all the blood and the stench made it likely they had been torn open before being dragged away.

There would be no burial, then.

He backed out to the hallway, where Tim was pressed into a corner where he could watch every entrance.

The clone squinted. “No luck?”

Connor shook his head. He sheathed his blades. “The bodies are gone.”

Tim’s chin lowered to his chest. “This place wants to kill us all.”

“We won’t let it. C’mon.”

Outside, Connor took lead, no longer worrying over the noise they made. The bugs would make themselves known when they were ready.

His radio crackled, and Selen’s ID flickered in and out on his visor. He listened.

Of course she had seen him go in. She and Kalpana were on top of the highest points uphill. They could see almost everything downslope.

After a string of static, Selen’s ID solidified. “What were you—?”

Doing, he thought. The static had eaten her last word, but he caught the intent. “Checking for our dead.” His own transmission was a ghostly echo in his ears.

“They’re gone. Head in.”

Ahead and to the right rose a structure nearly as large as the one he’d just checked. He kept west, hoping to avoid line of sight blockage. Earlier, he’d spotted where many of the bugs had erupted from the ground. Those holes led down into darkness.

Maybe into caves or tunnels or a hive.

Crunching moss brought Connor around to see Gregor approaching on his left.

The old man’s face was wet with sweat and red from exertion. He pointed his assault rifle at the circle of darkness ahead. “We just hold position, yes?”

Connor tried not to look into that darkness. “And Vicente brings the crates down to us.”

“Then we go?”

“No. Tim, Aubriella, and I take Mosiah down while you and Lem hold.”

Gregor grunted. He seemed relieved. “You know, the data cores—it was not our fault. We made backups.”

“I understand.”

“No, no. The computer, it does not behave—”

A deep rumbling came from the ground ahead, and a sharp, biting burst of sulfur made Connor’s eyes water.

He threw a clenched fist up to signal a halt. “Selen, we’ve got something—”

His radio crackled, then went dead.

That wasn’t a good sign.

More rumbles came from behind.

Tim whistled. “There’s cracking back here!”

Connor took a cautious step back. “Fall back.”

But it was too late. Chunks of earth flew up from the ground. Stones and bits of moss were flung aside.

A dark, bug form scrambled up from the ground and extended its wings.

No one fired. Where was the overwatch?

Connor put a short burst into the winged scorpion’s thorax, blasting it apart.

Then he turned and sprinted. “Go! Get into that building!”

He pointed them to the big building he’d avoided. There was an entry on the downslope side, and there’d been another on the opposite side. This time, he would keep the team together.

Gregor’s old legs chugged. He wheezed. “My…breath…”

“I’ve got you.” Connor threw an arm around the communications expert’s hip and pulled him along. “Lem, help Mosiah!”

Together, they got through the door. Behind them, the deafening buzz of giant wings filled the sky.

Tim stood at one of the doors leading from the large room. “Three other entries.”

Connor fell back, swords drawn. “We need a room we can hold.”

He switched to infrared and rushed through the center door, which opened into a hallway that hooked to the left, leading upslope. A little to his right, there was another doorway. “Here!”

Instinct guided him. With a wall to the right, the room shouldn’t be very large, maybe four meters wide.

Once through, he froze. It was at least six meters deep, and there was another doorway.

He stuck his head through, into what amounted to a smelly closet.

Then something moved, and he backed up.

Whatever it was squealed. It unfolded into a bipedal form. “Wait!”

At that, Connor checked his swing. The thing was human—a female. “What—?”

Gunfire roared, then stopped abruptly, replaced by a deep, raspy groan.

Connor spun around as a scorpion tale lifted Gregor from the floor. His assault rifle fell from bloody hands, as he grabbed the wicked thing. Then he coughed blood and slumped forward, twitching.

Without thinking, Connor rushed the monster, first cutting through the tail when it yanked free of the corpse, then chopping off its head.

It staggered back, dark gore oozing out from the wounds.

Another stepped through the entry, tail whipping forward. Then another crawled in along the ceiling.

Then another.

Aubriella shrieked when the one on the ceiling dropped near her.

But Connor couldn’t help her. The hall outside was filling with the things. He hacked and stabbed, kicked and stomped, dodged and parried. Six, eight, twelve—he lost count of how many strikes hammered his armor but didn’t punch through.

And then the surge of scorpion-things broke.

The floor was slick with ichor and broken bugs.

Where were the others? Why had they abandoned his team?

Something squeezed his arm, and he brought his swords up.

It was the woman—just a human outline in the infrared, a smelly, terrified, sunken form with greasy hair plastered to her scalp. “They’re massing.”

He nodded. If she was looking for assurances, he couldn’t offer any. Gregor was dead. Lem was tending to Aubriella and Tim. Mosiah was trying to figure out how to use Gregor’s weapon.

The woman pointed to the hallway. “There’s a way out.”

Would it be any safer than fighting to hold the room? His team was ready to collapse.

Connor pointed to the doorway. “Show us.”