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Night Vision	By : ehiltebe Category: M through R > Pitch Black Views: 1117 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Black. All I can claim is Eileen, really; all else is borrowed, and profits me not at all!

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter Nine
Santana did, indeed, have a box, a Plexiglas cube slightly larger than a human head, fitted with cryo valves to preserve its contents during transit. With a veiled glare at its owner, Boss used the container like a tiny stool, setting it in front of Rick and perching on it.
“Riddick.” My lover didn’t respond, though I could tell from his breathing that he was awake. “Riddick?” Still no reply, and the old soldier hauled back and delivered a solid right with a grunt.
“Johns.” Moss’ chiding voice cut through the tense silence. “We beatin’ men in chains now?” He got a chagrined grimace as Dahl tore apart a strip of medical tape to wrap around the toes of one foot. Rick quit trying to pretend that he was unconscious.
“Okay, from the beginning.” Boss leaned forward. “For the historical record… The Hunter-Gratzner. Thant’s the commercial vessel my son uses to transport you back to the slammer. But that ship sends a distress call somewhere near M-344/G. It’s a backwater system with two suns, one habitable planet.”
“Three suns,” I corrected absently, earning a mild glare.
“Does he survive the crash?”
“Big drama, th’ next few hours.” My mate appeared to completely ignore the question. “But whatever happens, no matter what they tell you, don’t let ‘em take these chains off me.”
“Them? Who’s ‘them’?” The long-time merc shook his head. “Who are you talking… Do you know who you’re talking to, here?” But Boss wasn’t Rick’s current focus.
“That was for me?” Santana, apparently, had heard the warning for what it was.
“When th’ chains come off…”
“Jesus Christ.” The old man jumped up in well-faked frustration.
“Box-Boy, you go in th’ first five seconds.” My lover grinned maliciously.
“Really?” The asshole wasn’t taking him seriously. “And you plan on killing me with what, your mouth?” He had drawn his machete, its highly polished blade reflecting bits of light.
“That shiny blade.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Santana retorted sarcastically.
“For the historical record.” Rick focused on Boss again. “He made it.” That got the man to sit down again.
“So it’s just you and him?”
“You know better than that,” came the reply. “Thirteen survived th’ wreck.”
“So how many made it off?”
“About th’ same number as is in this room, actually.”
“But he was one of the two who didn’t.”
“Correct.” My mate glanced toward a window.
“So between the time of the crash and the time you leave that planet, my son dies. And I can safely assume it’s at your hands. Is that right?” A second later, Boss jumped up again. “I’m wasting my fucking time here!”
“You grant any last wishes?” A smirk was directed at my blonde friend. “I was referrin’ t’ you.”
“Not that th’ chains aren’t a hot look, but no,” Dahl drawled. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not gonna straddle you in front of all these guys.”
“What if I killed all of ‘em first?”
“Easy, boy.” The sniper smirked back. “There’s a lot more tranq where that came from.”
“Tell me what you see outside that window, Dahl.” She glanced at the old man, then did as Rick had asked with a sigh. Next to where she’d been sitting, Dog shoved his head under Jack’s arm and whined.
“Cyclops unit, two ships, couple dead guys in plastic,” the blonde reported.
“An’ ya don’t see anything else?”
“Nothin’ else.”
“Lemme know when ya do.” She turned her back on the opening, and my lover grinned again. “Love those toenails, by the way.”
“Yeah?” She grinned, too; I could tell that she’d caught on to Rick’s verbal game. “Predator Pink.”
“Matches your nipples.” Dahl blinked, startled, as I snorted.
“Why are we even listening to this big fuckstick?” Santana asked testily. “Can we just detach his head, please?”
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Boss said quietly, leaning over his prisoner. “The next sixty seconds, you’re gonna watch your own head drop into that box. Nothing, nothing is gonna keep you from that special place in hell.” An internal worry that he might be serious rose, and I firmly squashed it. “Maybe in the last minute of your life, you wanna be somethin’ more than a goddamn savage! Gimme some fucking answers! Please!” The old man paused to collect himself, and most of us looked away to give him a semblance of privacy. “Is there anything you’d like to add on the subject I just raised?”
Instead of words, the question was answered by drops of water pelting the building. I cringed momentarily; my sister’s eyes went wide as she spotted the movement. Dog pressed himself against her more firmly than before, causing Jack to actually stagger into Squeaker, who wrapped his arms around her to stabilize them both.
“Time’s up,” Rick rumbled.
“Time is up.” Boss winked at me again, then nodded to Santana. “He’s all yours.”
“Hold him down,” the asshole snarled at his cousin as he kicked his box closer. Diaz planted a hand between my mate’s shoulders, forcing him to bend with a grunt. Smirking, Box-Boy raised his machete. “Finale de parti, amigo.”
Thankfully, that was when Rick’s mudbugs set off the Cyclops system’s alarm. Everyone stiffened again.
“More dingo-dongos, maybe?” Vargas suggested hopefully. The boy, though, noted the way that the canid had begun to tremble, and shook his head.
“Lucky,” Santana snarled at the convict before heading for the door. Jack and her boy stayed put while Lockspur sidled toward the hotseat and the rest went to investigate.
“I know what’s coming,” the quiet, enigmatic merc muttered. “They’re called the ‘vanyu’… the serpents.” My lover and I exchanged puzzled frowns as he, too, followed the rest outside.
“Spotlight!” At the yelled command, Moss dashed back inside and scaled a ladder. Rain poured through a roof hatch as he worked the high-powered lamp from the lookout post. Hisses and shrieks began to fill the air. The dark-skinned man slid back down, eyes wide, as a fine tremor started to show in my sister’s hands.
“Like I said, it ain’t me ya gotta worry about.”
“What is it?” Squeaker asked as people piled back inside and slid a heavy bar across the main door. “What’s out there?”
“I don’t know,” Moss replied with a shake of his head.
“Fucked up or something out there,” the big jamoke added unhelpfully.
“It ain’t right. An’ it’s comin’ our way.” I hadn’t seen the creatures, except at extreme distance, but they had clearly unsettled my teammates.
An automatic rifle chattered unexpectedly; Lockspur had stepped up to a window, aiming through the louvers and heavy-gauge wire mesh before firing wildly into the darkness. He unloaded an entire high-capacity magazine and pivoted, putting his back against a section of wall as he reloaded.
“Whatever they are, they ain’t so hard t’ kill,” he snarled. Half a second later, three bony spikes erupted from his chest, the muscles behind them then thrusting him back toward the window. On the other side of the protective measures, a creature—presumably the owner of the tail which had impaled Lockspur—snarled as his body was bashed against the wire mesh. Jack shrieked, her voice full of fear, and I swore under my breath. Murphy’s Law, between the darkness, rampaging strange carnivores, and rain, she’d been thrown into a flashback to M-344/G; she hadn’t had one in years.
Our other three teammates and Diaz stepped up, though. As soon as they had a clear shot, they poured fire into the beast. It took a fair amount of ammunition before it collapsed with a wheezing sigh, but Moss didn’t quit. His rifle ran dry, so he switched to his pistol, emptying it and pausing to reload. The skylight above him shattered.
“No!!” My adoptive sister hurled herself at the dark-skinned man, barreling into him as another spiked tail plunged through the now-empty frame, missing them both by a couple of centimeters. Other mudbugs beat at the walls.
“What the fuck?” Dahl snarled as she helped Jack and Moss get up. Boss moved from opening to opening, closing and locking louvers and shutters with frantic speed, while the brunette all but curled in on herself, her shaking far more pronounced.
“Fuck,” he growled, running out of barriers to secure. As I crouched by Rick’s side, everyone else formed an outward-facing circle in an effort to prevent attacks from behind. Santana’s cousin raised his rifle cautiously.
“No more holes, please.” The Vagos leader accompanied his request with a hand on his second’s arm. At least one mudbug leapt onto the roof; sections of the metal creaked and sagged under the extra weight. My mate chuckled evilly, swinging his arms to make the chains clank.
“Now here’s what’s gonna happen,” he declared when he had everyone’s attention. “In sixty seconds, you’re gonna take these chains off me. We’re gonna make a play for those nodes an’ get off this rock. But somewhere along th’ line, when it gets really bad, Johns is gonna fold, just like Little Johns did.” Boss’ jaw clenched in frustration. “Then, when it’s all over an’ you men are all ready for Dead Animal Pickup, I’m gonna go balls deep into Dahl. But only because she asked me to. Sweet-like.” Rick grinned at the sharpshooter as she rolled her eyes.
“What does he mean, ‘when things go bad’?” Vargas asked bitterly. “What, this doesn’t qualify as bad?”
“What th’ fuck is happening?” Dahl demanded. “How fucked are we?”
“He saw it.” Santana’s middle boy had gone from bitter to downright accusatory. “He saw it with those eyes of his and he didn’t tell us what.” Another creature banged on the roof, making him cringe. Boss returned to his seat on the cryo box.
“One ship for you an’ yours, one for me an’ mine,” Rick told him solemnly.
“I need to know that these nodes are retrievable.”
“An’ I need t’ know we have a deal.” The old man paused a moment in thought before nodding.
“We got a deal.” He leaned down, unlocking my mate’s right ankle.
“The chains stay on.” The end of the machete was laid on Boss’ shoulder, its honed edge against his neck. A brief scuffle ensued as the blonde tried to help her best friend, but Diaz quickly corralled her. I suspected that, if not for the flashback she was still trying to escape, Jack would have helped.
“Why don’t we sit this one out?” he sneered. Santana returned his blade to its previous position and applied pressure.
“Okay, okay.” The former soldier rose smoothly but slowly, his hands in the air and the key for Rick’s restraints hanging from one thumb.
“Up, up, up…” Box-Boy took possession of the key and forced his rival to move away a couple of meters. “Good doggie.” Then he turned. I ducked around my lover, making sure that I was out of his way but still had a good view; he could get quite creative with bastards like this one. Santana swung, yelling, as Rick swiftly wrapped the chains around his wrists. Holding his weight up with his arms, one crude boot rose to strike the merc’s hand, launching the machete up to lodge in the ceiling while a stomping motion drove the asshole back against the wall. As Santana struggled to his feet, his blade wobbled and fell to land on my mate’s fast-moving foot. He took a moment to properly balance its weight, then tossed the blade up and kicked it. As the weapon sailed across the room, he gently slid the box toward his foe.
The machete hit right along the line of Santana’s mouth with enough force to continue all the way through the man’s skull. The severed cranium slid off, thumping into the box while the lower mandible and occiput, still attached to the rest of the body, slumped to the floor. Vargas shouted in alarm; Jack and Boss both whistled, impressed. Figured that it would take something like that to shock her free of the bad memories.
“Holy shit,” Squeaker gasped, making me raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Diaz bit out sarcastically. “Let’s cut him loose.”
“That was five seconds.”
“I like t’ be a man of my word,” Rick told Dahl with a smirk. “How about you, Johns?”
“Alright, yes, you’re a deadly son-of-a-bitch when provoked. You can stop trying to get a rise out of me.”
“Come on, Boss,” I couldn’t help but reply. “Where’s th’ fun in that?”
~*~
“Fuckin’ nutcases, both of ‘em,” she muttered to herself. That panic attack had ambushed her and scared her sick. ~Gotta do something about th’ memories so that never happens again.~
“Who?” Oh, right, she had an audience of two now, though at least the one couldn’t speak.
“Rick an’ my sister.” She looked sideways at Luna. “Normally not this bad, mind. Been more than two years since they last saw each other, an’ separation ain’t good for any part of their health.” Then Jack grimaced. “Nothin’ really ‘normal’ about th’ three of us, though.”
“Offshoot species?” the young man ventured. The brunette nodded, surprised that he’d caught on so quickly. “Then what most people consider normal wouldn’t fit for you. Nothing wrong with that.”
~Don’t think you’d be sayin’ that yet if ya knew that a part of me wants t’ jump your bones right now,~ she thought wryly. Not that she was at all comfortable with the urge, herself.
Dog growled as Dahl handed heavy stun rifles to Jack and Luna, keeping the third for herself. The younger woman checked her katana, making sure it was just loose enough in its scabbard that it wouldn’t bind up if she needed it. Eileen was doing the same with her daggers.
Boss looked around, visually checking that everyone was ready to move out, then kicked the main doors open. The group advanced at a slow walk, blasting anything that moved as they headed for the newer, sleeker merc ship. The Prime Alphas brought up the rear, strolling casually. Then, as the ramp lowered, the brunette found and resisted the urge to curse as her shakes finally subsided.
“…For He shall give His angels charge over me, keep me in His grace as long as I live…”
~Figures that th’ cutie my animal decides she wants is a religious type,~ she grumbled internally.
“Shut the noise, Luna,” Vargas growled.
“You know,” the kid continued, oblivious to his teammate, “I think the angels are here, protecting me. And if they’re here, watching over me, maybe they’ll deliver us all from this crazy, evil place.”
“Not th’ angels,” Jack retorted, giving in just a little to her temper and gently smacking the back of his head. “Th’ Furyans.”
“That shit is creeping everybody out, so shut the fuck up!”
“You shut the fuck up, Vargas,” barked the salt-and-pepper former soldier. “Leave the kid alone.” The grungy merc seemed to realize that mouthing off to Boss when he was in such an unpleasant mood was not a good idea, because he only scowled before turning toward the ramp.
A small form leapt out of the mud with a high-pitched shriek and latched onto Vargas’ ankle. Jack jumped, stumbling into Dog.
“Where the hell did that…” Diaz pushed forward as the other merc started to speak, aiming his scope-less rifle at the small creature. “Jesus Christ! No, no, no!” Despite the pleas, half a dozen shots rattled from the weapon, shredding the beast’s little body. But once the firearm was lowered, Vargas shoved his larger teammate away from him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, you crazy bastard? You could have killed me!”
“I got it, didn’t I?” The big asshole got a mulish, defensive look on his face as the other man backed away, then started to convulse and fell over. “Vargas, get up.”
Rather than responding verbally, the merc stiffened further and trembled as though he were having a seizure.
“Vargas, get up,” Diaz repeated. “Come on, let’s go.” Nothing but stuttering, ragged breathing from his teammate.
~Fuck… That’s kinda like Fry, just before Chillingsworth grabbed th’ skiff.~ The guy was a goner.
“Vargas, come on, man. Walk it off.” Douchebag toed the man. “Let’s go. It’s just a little one.”
“Small ones’re th’ worst,” Rick offered nonchalantly. “They save th’ most venom.” Even as he spoke, Vargas lost the fight with a final gasp. “An’ kid, leave God outta this. He wants no part of what happens next.”
“Oh, shut th’ fuck up, Rick.” Jack found herself snarling at the head of her pack. “Leave Luna alone!” But instead of getting Alpha-pissy and growly, the convict laughed at her, his grin liable to split his face in two. Even Eileen was chuckling as the brunette felt her cheeks warm.
The older Furyans still had business on their minds, though; Rick’s goggled gaze locked onto the biggest of the three uncovered hover-bikes.
~He gets a ride on one of those, an’ we’ll have t’ find th’ money somewhere t’ get him a Hog of his own for keeps.~
~*~
Th’ mercs are busy as I give th’ hefty machine a quick once-over. It’s a damned nice piece of gear, way more than th’ average bounty hunter could save up for in an entire career, an’ yet another sign that Big Daddy is as different from Billy as day is from night. Th’ man thinks long an’ hard about keepin’ his people alive t’ collect their pay.
“We’ll take mine out for a good run once this is all over,” my woman whispers in my ear. This Hog’s got a longer seat than the others, so I swing a leg over th’ saddle, feelin’ Eileen mount behind me an’ tuck in close t’ my body.
“I forgot to mention.” Boss steps up an’ grabs a weapon that was racked on th’ bike’s side. “There’s no weapons for you.” I shoot him a sour look. Leavin’ our defenses at just my mate’s long daggers? “You think you can ride one of these things?” For shits an’ giggles, I rev th’ engine an’ jack th’ handlebars up into cruise mode.
“I’ll ride it like I stole it.” Gunnin’ it, I rocket outta th’ ship, climbin’, then divin’ right as my woman’s arms tighten around my waist. For a few minutes, I keep th’ pace slow, but once Big Daddy an’ the big jamoke catch up, it’s pedal t’ th’ metal.
Lots of sweet bells an’ whistles on this beast. One switch lets me stand without th’ engine safety cuttin’ out. I hit it an’ take a good look around, figure out just where we are. Th’ mountain’s revealed by a lightning flash, a bit right of our current heading, an’ we’re about t’ hit a little dogleg pass that should be collectin’ water by now.
I know all too well how much mudbugs love water.
Droppin’ back into th’ saddle, I wait ‘til Eileen’s got a good grip on me again, then whip around th’ valley bend. Sure enough, th’ ugly fucks are gatherin’ in th’ slop, an’ I use our combined weight t’ roll th’ Hog so its exhaust roasts ‘em but good. More felt than heard, my woman chuckles against my back.
I lead our ‘chaperones’ up th’ mountain’s flank along a pretty narrow path—two people could walk next t’ each other on it, but there’s no way t’ get two of these rigs on it side-by-side. My bet? Diaz will try t’ get Boss outta his way when he sees th’ excuse. Which is why we’re usin’ this route. Th’ path is a dead end, low enough that jumpin’ th’ Hogs off it’ll put some momentary strain on th’ engines but not do any true damage.
Sure enough, I catch a flash of light from behind an’ double back after leaving th’ mountainside. Boss has wiped out an’ had th’ breath knocked outta him. Eileen slips off t’ deal with a nearby mudbug; she doesn’t even seem t’ think about armin’ me, but she’s been a little touchy about her daggers. Boss gets up, takes a few shots with his pistol, then finds his gauge by almost trippin’ over it. Once he’s got it steady, I whistle, an’ he spins.
“You asshole motherfucker!” Big Daddy yells. “Just sittin’ there watchin’!” Okay, now that’s uncalled for.
“Woulda covered ya, but you said ‘no weapons,’” I snarl back.
“An’ I was coverin’,” my mate adds, reappearin’ as she wipes pale green ichor from her blade with an apparently disposable cloth. “Goddammit, Boss, cut th’ paranoid crap, we’re on th’ same side.”
As th’ man rubs a hand over his face, I grin an’ pat th’ saddle of th’ borrowed Hog. Hell, now I’ve got an excuse t’ rib him some.
“How bad ya want those nodes, Johns?” His ‘oh, hell’ look is worth th’ light punch I get from th’ other side. So I swing my leg back over an’ wait. Th’ old man gingerly gets on th’ back, getting’ so close t’ fallin’ off that he puts his hands behind himself t’ hold a little piece of rail. When I turn t’ Eileen, she gives me this dirty look that makes me scoot back until there’s room for her t’ slide in front of me.
Like she doesn’t wanna even touch Boss. Kinda pleases my animal side, actually.
We only just get started again when th’ big jamoke roars up, lookin’ a little more disgruntled than before when he realizes I’ve got a second passenger. Asshole has realized he’s got exactly zero support now; I could already tell when we left that Squeaker’s startin’ t’ genuinely like Jackie-girl. Boy wears his heart on his damn sleeve, which ain’t a good thing for a merc, but might help him as a normal among animals—two-legged an’ four-foots.
Finally, we sweep up th’ small hill an’ stop under th’ rock shelves. My woman an’ I go straight for th’ trench spades we left here, while Diaz makes like he’s gonna guard th’ Hogs, and Big Daddy hovers. So I start bringin’ up th’ sand, an’ Eileen moves it away, keepin’ an eye on th’ bad guy.
I get close t’ uncoverin’ th’ nodes before Boss breaks th’ silence, apparently keepin’ up his act. Or maybe he wants t’ hear things from th’ horse’s mouth.
“I don’t suppose you took the time to do this for him, huh?”
“This may come as a shock t’ ya, Johns, but I didn’t ghost your son. He seemed set on killin’ himself.” I’ll play along a bit more.
“What the fuck does that mean?” He actually sounds vaguely insulted.
“Morphine.” I huff, kinda aggravated by th’ memories of Billy chasin’ me. “Your son liked his morphine. Liked it twice a day.” Now I look up at Big Daddy’s shocked face. “Didn’t know your son was a junkie?” I shrug. “Johns was like most mercs. They look all stand-up an’ do-right ‘til ya cut ‘em open an’ find somethin’ missin’. In his case, a spine.”
“I don’t have to listen to this shit!” th’ old man explodes. “That’s not the man I knew, that I raised.”
“Then ya didn’t know your son anymore.” I go back t’ diggin’, just t’ have somethin’ else t’ do. “He wanted t’ kill a kid t’ save his own skin. I had a problem with that, an’ so did Eileen. ‘Cause of us, that kid’s in your ship right now.”
“You expect me to believe my son was gonna kill that girl to save his own life?”
“Morphine makes th’ brain soft,” my mate chips in. “Weakens th’ morals. Junkie’ll do anything t’ get his next fix.” She’s got her shades up, so I can see her eyes tighten.
“I don’t fuckin’ buy it,” th’ old man snaps back. “I just can’t believe that my son’s the bad guy in this fuckin’ demented fairy tale of yours.” Right as he’s finishin’ his rant, I get down t’ where th’ argon-generated blue-white light of th’ nodes is visible.
“I have no reason t’ lie now, Johns,” I reply, hoistin’ his pack out first. “Neither of us does.” Diaz comes closer as I bend back down for Santana’s unit. I notice his sudden movement from th’ corner of my eye an’ reach for my buried switchblade. But he’s too close, an’ I hafta jump outta th’ hole before he can trap me in it.
As I come out, I manage t’ kick th’ big jamoke’s hip an’ grab his wrist, knockin’ away Big Daddy’s shotgun. Follow-through lets me get my other leg over th’ arm I hold an’ my free hand behind his head; I use th’ leverage t’ throw him off t’ one side, away from where Eileen’s doin’ a quick check on Boss. Once she sees Diaz on th’ ground, though, she’s up with her daggers out, launchin’ a scary-silent attack he just barely fends off with his reach an’ brute strength.
Given that she once almost decapitated a professional bodyguard her own size with those blades, he’s lucky t’ even survive th’ assault. In fact, he ends up puttin’ an elbow into th’ side of her head, which just pisses off my inner animal. So I throw myself at him again, getting’ rid of his pistol in th’ process.
Which, of course, turns out t’ be a mistake. Th’ big jamoke takes advantage of my rage an’ manages t’ nail me more than once, drivin’ me t’ hands an’ knees. My head rings; my mate must be stunned as badly or worse, ‘cause she’s not back in th’ fight yet.
“Thanks for startin’ the killin’ spree for me, Riddick.” Diaz pins my wrists together behind me, an’ I lock my elbows straight as he starts t’ lift. “But I’ll take it from here.”
“No shot!” I can hear th’ old man yell.
It takes enough startin’ effort t’ force air outta me, but I manage t’ get my wrists movin’ away from each other. Soon, my weight acts as leverage, an’ th’ asshole’s th’ one groaning’. With my arms horizontal, I pivot like they’re an axle, kickin’ off Diaz’s chest an’ divin’ into th’ hole. This time, th’ big blade comes back up with me, an’ before he can get his sidearm aimed at me again, I’m airborne.
Th’ carefully-knapped flint strikes between Diaz’s left shoulder an’ his neck, cleavin’ through a good ten or fifteen centimeters of his ribcage as Eileen drives a dagger into his right side an’ pulls it right back out with a rippin’ motion. Bein’ rough stone, my weapon sticks, so I use my foot t’ shove th’ asshole clear. Dunno if he’s still a bit alive; his trigger finger flexes as he topples, an’ bullets hit th’ turbine fan of th’ Hog he was ridin’.
“Jamoke,” I snarl. Fuckin’ idiot.
“Was that blade meant for me?” Boss asks, soundin’ cautious.
“Nah.” My lover wobbles slightly, so I put an arm around her. “Figured there’d be treachery at this point from Vagos, not you.” He snorts, then slings a strap from his node over one shoulder.
“We’ve got a problem, though. Two nodes, one Hog. And I sure as shit am not ridin’ bitch again.”
“Nobody’s ridin’ bitch,” my woman corrects. “Motherfucker pulled th’ turbine pin an’ tossed it.” Alarmed, th’ old man checks th’ remaining machine quickly.
“Son of a fucking bitch!” He looks up, oddly… woeful? “Lemme guess, ground game?”
“Head of th’ class,” Eileen replies with a chuckle. “Wish we’d grabbed those repeaters t’ drop on th’ way here. No way we’d get Jack out here with our bikes, though.”
“Oh, god, is that why she can’t keep her eyes off the kid?” She giggles a bit at his reaction. “So more than half—plus that dog-thing—going with you. At least Santana’s boat is bigger.”
“Plus, with full power available, you’ll be able to trace an’ retrieve th’ damaged Hogs for repair.” It sounds like my mate’s negotiatin’ to get us off scot-free; I check th’ Pack bonds in my mind for Marcus an’ Niklas.
“We’ll let you have as much of th’ cryo system as you want,” I offer. That shit’s expensive; seven hibernation units should cover work on three hover-bikes, an’ th’ drugs could pay or exceed fuel an’ ammo costs. Our backup’s close enough that we won’t need any of it.
“I wasn’t gonna try to keep you,” th’ old man protests. “But I’ll take you up on that cryo if you’re sure you can spare it.” He works his node’s second strap onto his other shoulder, then extends th’ other power unit t’ us. “Let’s get going.”
~*~
Rick was displaying his unconventional brand of chivalry again: the node was on his shoulders, not mine. Of course, he considers me to be more nimble than himself, so he probably wanted me better able to maneuver quickly, as well.
We formed a rough triangle with Boss as we fought our way through the mud and carnivores. The going proved slow; some of the slop was more than ankle deep. Mudbugs apparently had even less in the way of smarts than grues; where the latter would have backed off to think, the former kept attacking despite the trail of body parts and carcasses. Simply injuring them didn’t work, either, not unless it took out a leg. Anything less severe, and they kept coming.
“Reload!” We stopped, my lover and I covering the former soldier as he slid fresh shells into his shotgun and swapped pistol magazines. One creature leapt toward me and met a swift slash.
“Watch your backs,” I warned the men. Another beast came up the for side of a boulder and met Rick’s switchblade in midair. Boss worked the action on his gauge, chambering a round.
“Go!” But a new wave of mudbugs hit, keeping us too busy with self-defense to make headway. One of the last ones in the group seemed to focus on my mate.
One final crack of gunfire, and then silence, broken only by the falling rain. I turned to see the blade of my man’s weapon driven into the big creature’s neck, the flint snapped in two near the pivot point. It collapsed as Rick staggered, and I hurried to his aid. A tail spike had lodged in his torso, low on his left side, and a rush of blood accompanied his initial attempt to remove the object. My lover stopped the alarming flow temporarily by replacing the spike, but his knees gave out with the loss.
“Boss!” He glanced over at my shout. “We need space!” Grim-faced as he recognized the danger, he pulled a canister off his belt, armed it, and hurled the grenade into the faintly-visible mass of advancing mudbugs. While the timer silently counted down, he joined us, crouching in a protective manner. With him shielding my mate’s eyes as well as his own, I pressed my face against the firm bicep bared by Rick’s handmade leather jerkin.
~Phosphor frag,~ I guessed; he’d mentioned using them earlier. That would be useful for more than the blast, since the volatiles included white phosphorus—a chemical that burned until it ran out of fuel, even underwater. We’d be able to cauterize that enormous wound.
And the grenade’s flash seared despite shielding my vision; definitely phosphor. Once the afterimages faded to a tolerable level, I began gently removing the node from my lover’s back. He turned his head toward me, brow wrinkling in confusion.
“Take it!” I told Boss as I shoved the device at him. “Get those back t’ th’ ships an’ get back out here. Trace my earpiece. We’ll try for th’ peak.” It was the closest major terrain feature. “Go, dammit!” For once, the old soldier took an order from me and dashed away.
~*~
“I’ve got inbound.” The boy’s voice startled Dahl out of her worried mood. She hit the buttons that began opening the hatch, then turned toward the pair at the console as Moss rose from his seat, as well.
“Just one?” She winced at the hitch in the brunette’s voice; she didn’t really understand what ‘Prime Alpha’ meant for Furyans, but it sounded very important.
“Don’t jump to a bad conclusion, Jack.” Whether or not her instructions would help the girl stay calm… The blonde picked up a rifle just in case.
When the actinic light of the packs emerged from the gloom, they were both being carried by her dear friend. He stumbled up the ramp, and Dahl reached out to help him.
“Take this!” He shoved the older-looking node at Moss, then started struggling with the newer one’s straps.
“Is it just you?” The sniper winced again, sure that she could feel her young friend’s incipient panic. How she sensed it, she didn’t know, but if Jack lost it, there would be significant bloodshed as a result.
“Just slam this thing in!” Boss turned to give Dahl better access to the straps. “Get us in the air, prep the winch, and put out a trace on comm units!”
“Boss…” Before Jack had the chance to demand an answer again, Luna reached over and shyly took her hand. The emotional pressure in the confined space eased.
“Just do it!”
~Shit. Did he take lessons in snarling on his field trip or something?~
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Night Vision