The night had entered its darkest and coldest hours, but with the flame rekindled with what little wood Dirk had managed to gather before the creatures attacked, the Scout Unit stood a real chance of surviving until dawn.
It was no time for relaxation, however, as the looming threat of another attack was becoming more and more real with each passing minute. Movements in the dark, just at the edge of the perimeter stirred unease among the mercenaries as the work on the pyre progressed. Wild wails pierced the cold dark, chilling and animalistic. A testament to the effectiveness of Dirk’s idea. The things, mutated as they were, really didn’t like seeing their packmates being found onto a mound, stacked like trash.
There were a few shots in the dark as the more skilled shooters took their chances at potential picks, but none flew true, hitting snow and dirt alike. The moods were tense, but with a threat clear and palpable, the Scouts managed to finally get their act together, working fast and paying attention to their surroundings for once. Dirk just wished it had happened sooner.
As the last of the corpses found its way to its final destination, Dirk spared a glance at the creatures, now from up close, making use of the lights all around. They were disgusting. Malformed and malnourished, they resembled wolves, but skinned by an amateur. Muscle fibers glistened salmon-pink in the chemlights, speckled by an occasional tuft of rough, gray fur. It was a wonder how those creatures managed to survive the cold with this little insulation.
Dirk turned one over with his foot, examining the body in detail with a kind of professional curiosity. He wasn’t much of a biologist, but searching for weak and vulnerable spots fell right into his field of expertise. Where he expected to meet soft flesh with the tip of his boot, the body responded with a sort of hollow feeling. Squinting his eyes, Dirk pulled out his knife and, in one decisive thrust, plunged the blade into the corpse.
The resistance was surprising. It was something one couldn’t really get a feel for by fighting from a distance. The thing had a sort of outer, calloused fleshy shell around its body, which, as vulnerable as it looked from the outside, proved to be actually very resistant to shallow cuts and blunt force trauma. Perhaps it was a good insulator, too, but Dirk was now less interested in that aspect of the monstrous hide.
He traced the cold carcass with a finger, pressing in a few spots in a practiced motion, feeling out the muscles, bones and cartilage in spots he suspected as weak spots. His worries quickly proved justified, as he realized that most of them were well guarded against attacks. Places such as the throat and the surrounding arteries were thick and hard to pierce. The solar plexus and the surrounding areas proved even more formidable, guarding the internal organs well against fangs, claws, and unfortunately for Dirk’s group, small blades. In all likeliness, very few animals could stand against this creature, let alone a whole pack of them.
Letting one get close could prove fatal on its own, and letting one pin you to the ground would almost certainly be a guaranteed death sentence, if not for the one chink in the thing’s armor that Dirk managed to find during his search. Next to the ear, where the jaw met the skull, the fleshy hide was weak, and the bone thin, potentially allowing for a swift kill in a pinch, but at a great risk. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that
- You’ll catch something if you play with corpses. - a male voice pulled Dirk out of his mind palace. It was Match with his uncanny weapon in hand. - Found something interesting?
- Just getting to know the enemy. - he answered back, standing up from a crouch. He gave the young man a meaningful look, as if answering a question yet unasked. The air got heavy, and Match seemed to catch Dirk’s drift.
- What did he do this time? - he asked in a sort of tired but entirely unsurprised tone.
- That’s between Ted and me, but know this: My patience is running thin. That was his one and only strike, but I don’t think he got the message.
- He’s just an idiot. Cut him some slack.
- He’s going beyond mere idiocy here. - Dirk’s eyes were cold, but Match could swear they were burning a hole in him. - I can see that you are good friends, but I can also see that there’s not enough brains between you three to make up for Ted’s deficit. - the old vet stepped up to Match and met his gaze from above, being a little taller, exuding enough pressure to break most civilians, but the young one stood firm, even if a glint of hesitation in his eyes betrayed him. - Cherish that friendship, but rein him in. - he said, pressing something into the boy’s hand. It was a knife.
- What the fuck, old man? - match took a step back, holding the knife out in front of himself in a sort of disgusted disbelief. - I won’t–
- Hold it firmly and come over. I will show you something. - Dirk shot back, stepping back to the pile of carcasses, pulling a relatively intact one to the front.
- Uh… - Match fumbled to find any words, the foreign weight of the blade sending his mind racing.
- You’re a mid-to-close-range fighter with a cumbersome weapon. You must know how to defend yourself if something slips by and attacks you directly.
- I can handle–
- We’re on a schedule here. - Dirk disregarded the young man’s words completely, hurrying him along with an imperious note in his voice, like a drill sergeant speaking to a private. - Your three practice stabs just turned into two. You can keep yapping, but you won’t get a proper feel with just one.
Match groaned, shifted in place and came forward all in one swift motion, as if put under a spell. Whether it was Chernobog’s authority, or the lad’s own curiosity, he budged, and Dirk didn’t miss a beat. Grabbing the corpse by the scruff of its neck, he flung the cold bag of flesh and bones onto Match, who in a moment of panic yelped and fell over onto his back, scrambling to free himself from under the beast.
- Wrong! You already died. - Dirk announced all too seriously, his face stern and calculating. - Defend yourself, you have one stab to save your life! - he continued, prodding the slack corpse with his foot, making it flail around on top of the guy.
- Fucking hell! - Match exclaimed, moving the dead thing’s toothy maw away from his own face and stabbing it in a clouded-over eye, only for it to come down on him with retribution as Dirk pushed harder.
- Wrong again! It’s still alive, and you just made it angrier! - Dirk’s tone was serious, but it almost seemed like he was having fun.
- Guh! - with the weight of another shove added to the already heavy corpse, Match got the wind knocked out of him, then stabbed again at the throat, only for the knife to sink in at an awkward angle, missing the vitals.
- Three times dead. You’re out! - the words rang out like a round-end’s bell, and the skinless wolf slumped to the ground, freeing the young lad, who scrambled to his feet with a greedy gasp.
- You’re crazy! - Match accused, staggering, but Dirk didn’t care.
- Watch this. - he grabbed the oversized dog’s head with his bare hand and applied pressure at just the right spot he found earlier. With a sickening crunch, his thumb sank into the thing’s skull. - This is where you have to aim.
- How was I supposed to know that?!
- You weren’t. But now you do, and you won’t forget. - the soldier admitted smugly, wiping his hand on the snow, ready to leave, but seeing Match all flustered and also ready to bail, he stopped him for a moment. - Before you scoot, be so kind and light the pyre.
- Man, fuck you.
- Teach the trick to your buddies, too. I didn’t patent it yet, so I won’t charge you royalties.
The flash of fire from the nozzle of the lad’s weapon was immediate, brief and incredibly destructive. A puff of barely visible chemical flame flew through the air like a projectile, and the whole mound caught ablaze almost immediately as it made contact, making Dirk raise his brows in barely concealed amazement. He’d never seen anything like that in his long years of service, but even then, a few potential applications came to mind almost instantly. Before he could prod for some info, though, the owner of the weapon grumpily took his leave. For shame.
Dirk’s time alone was brief, however, as heavy mechanical steps coming from behind him announced the arrival of one mech pilot, all too eager to spill some senseless drivel.
- Why are you bullying the little guy? - Barbara asked through the loudspeaker, its volume thankfully adjusted for a relatively candid conversation.
- He’s not exactly “little”, you know?
- From up here, you all seem little to me. - she admitted, her voice dripping with coy pride.
- Compensating for something, “little lady?” - Dirk ribbed, remembering how Barbara fumed the last time she was called that, and the results didn’t disappoint.
- I’m so gonna squash you.
- I’ll get to dismantle your toy sooner than expected, then. I wonder which one of the 307 structural weaknesses I should exploit first?
- Wait, what? That many? Are you serious? No freaking way! - the woman’s tone flipped on a dime, her love, maybe even unhealthy fixation for her machine painfully apparent. - Where, you old liar? Point to ONE!
- No freebies, Garuda. Score some kills in the next hour, and if nobody dies, I’ll consider sharing a few pointers.
- Ugh! - she spelled out the onomatopoeia like in some comedy skit about rebellious teenagers, which actually made Dirk crack a brief smirk.
A long time ago, Jason did a similar thing once, speaking certain sounds and grunts from comic books that Dirk had smuggled into his subject cell on occasions. He didn’t know what they meant then, just that the weird words on the pages corresponded to some vague emotions he didn’t have a grasp on yet.
- Fine, whatever. So again, was the corpse-humping necessary?
- No, but it was funny. - Dirk let it slip, his mood suddenly and inexplicably lifted.
- Wow! So there is a soul somewhere in that March of Tin Soldiers: Volume II - Electrolysis body of yours! Somewhere very, very deep, but it’s there!
- Oh, please, spare me the ridicule. Isn’t teaching others invaluable, life-saving maneuvers enough proof of my good will?
- Maybe if you let the sun shine through that dark, cloudy sky of yours more often, then you’d get better results. “What” you do is only half the battle. You have a lot of work to do concerning the “how.”
- What a profound thought. Did you glean that from a fortune cookie? If so, you might want to double-check with Michael. He apparently gets his kicks from reading labels.
- Har-har.
- Now off with you. This place wants us dead. Let’s not make it easy for it. - he shooed the woman away, seeing another stray skirmisher zoom by at the edge of the lit area. The pack must have fully realized by now that they stood no chance in small numbers in the light, but their incessant movements could mean only one thing. That a new, bigger wave was coming.
Dirk checked his magazines, took one last glance around to ensure that nothing was out of place in their defensive position, and then moved towards a more favorable position with images of the mutated creatures' heads burned into the retina of his eye. Taking into consideration their line-up, he would be the only person that ever made use of that knowledge, realistically.
As much as he wanted to believe in Match’s ability to perfectly stab a monster gnawing at him in a pinch, that's not something one can learn in the matter of hours. If something ever topples the lithe man, passing through the wall of flames he commands, only the rush of adrenaline and sheer force of will could save him. But Dirk would rather focus on the positives.
With Pollux stomping away, the old man was left alone with his thoughts as most of the mercs kept to their position like flies to dung. Which in itself was promising, albeit inflexible. He knew that some of them could easily change their engagement zones and firing lines on a dime, were it required, but at least half of those could hit another merc with a stray bullet during relocation.
It was important to hold a firm and stable firing position when fortifying an area, but such textbook tactics only worked when fighting against human opponents also following those principles. Those beasts were a different story.
“Nothing to be done about that now” - Dirk mused, observing the surrounding darkness, picking up glistening fangs and eyes. - “They did manage to survive the previous assault, and back then their positioning was less than ideal. Those new positions will have to compensate for their potential shortcomings”.
That was not to mention that Garuda, Jason and him would be a trio of linchpins holding their defensive line together if the need arose.
- S-Sir, I mean Chernobog.- that wasn’t the voice he was expecting to hear.
The old soldier turned around to see Elephant trudging through the snow. Correction, he didn’t expect to see her on her own, without Armistice. But on the other hand, Dirk wasn’t really paying attention to how much time has passed since those two went on radiation sickness prevention duty. Time moved differently for him in situations like the one they found themselves in.
It passed so slowly. Seeing every second stretched into frames saved him many times, but when danger was lurking at the edge of his vision… It was excruciating.
Elephant’s slow strut through the snow certainly didn't help.
- What is it Elephant? Were my instructions unclear? - he asked, somewhat dejectedly, prepared for a pointless conversation.
- Your dose. - she extended an armored glove towards him.
It looked a bit like a misshapen claw. Only the trigger finger and thumb were separated, the remaining three fingers were stuck in the same sturdy sleeve together. Within the palm of said hand a few snowflakes and a shiny blister with two small tablets inside.
They made short work of the assignment, it would seem. Dirk was positively surprised, which must have shown on his face, as Elephant's stature seemed to have somewhat improved after looking at his face.
“Hope it doesn’t get to her head” - the grumpy man thought while pushing the tablets out of their protective, plastic compartments and gulping them down.
- Ah! - Elephant exclaimed.
- Something happened?
- Water, I brought water. - there was indeed a small canteen in her other hand that the soldier didn’t notice.
- Save it for a more urgent situation than someone swallowing pills. - Dirk smiled coyly, but he couldn’t measure a response from the woman's mask.
- Permission to speak frankly?
“That’s new” - Dirk couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow.
- Permission granted.
- That statement was juvenile, sir. - suddenly, a string of confidence plinked within the sheepish voice of the armored mercenary. - Prescriptions for medicine exist to help the patients and are meant to be followed, that’s why liquids are recommended to push the tablets after swallowing them.
- Can’t disagree with that. - Dirk chimed.
- What would happen if by some stroke of bad luck you started choking, Sir?
- That’s a hypothetical scenario.
- Possibility calculation is part of many different paths of life. Doing it is beneficial, just like natural instinct, it can dissuade one from taking a route bearing more risks than benefits. - her spiel told Dirk more about her than she probably realized, but he couldn’t fully disagree with the message peddled to him.
Though he certainly could feel somewhat miffed.
Being schooled by the most sheepish member of their squad.
- So I implore you, Chernobog, for the future, do not take needless risks.
The old man was about to open his mouth and interrupt the speaker with a soliloquy on the benefits of being a risk-taker and the experience that he held, which allowed him to minimize danger that could befall him–
- You are the de-facto leader of our group, we rely on your guidance. Some more than others.
- What? You don’t know how to perform first aid on a person who’s choking?
- I-I do. - after a moment of cold professionalism she stumbled back into uncertainty. - But there will be moments without me or Armistice present, sir. You’re paramount to our success, be it as it may.
Dirk wanted to snap back with “they would figure something out”, but would they? Would people like Ted be even willing to save his life? Or would he just watch him choke, taking into consideration the shit the guy pulled in the forest.
His enthusiasm and energy reserves restored not so long ago were starting to rapidly dwindle by just thinking about it. As much as he was able to find common ground with Black and Michael they haven’t shown him enough to dub them “reliable assets” at this point in time. He knew too little about them.
Only two people he put any stock in when it came to survival and combat reliability were Jason and Barbara, the latter one, with a heavy heart. But as things stood, at face value, that duo would survive anything the frozen tundra could throw at them, making them the most reliable assets, after himself. But both of them worked the best when part of the vanguard, in places that he himself wouldn’t frequent during an ongoing battle.
So there was no helping it.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
- Very well Elephant, I’ll take your grievance into consideration. - he had to agree. - Am I correctly assuming that all the other team members received their dosage?
- Almost. - she answered, and Dirk frowned slightly, hearing her words. - I-I couldn’t catch up to Miss Garuda yet, and I do not have enough information to decide on a dosage for A-Argonaut.
- Then you can consider your orders completed.
- Why? I can still-
- You running after Garuda would only needlessly tire you out, taking into consideration your heavy suit and the rough terrain. - the man began to explain while glancing around. - Plus, opening Pollux’s sarcophagus at this critical moment could potentially result in the enemy targeting the exposed pilot. We don’t know if they possess range capabilities, but it is safer to assume they do to some primitive extent.
- O-Oh. - even though her face was invisible through the visor of her suit, Dirk could tell she already sounded a bit overwhelmed.
- When it comes to Argonaut, he doesn’t require the anti-radiation medication. Tissue of regenerators is cancerous by nature, radiation doesn’t affect them like normal living creatures. If it ever did, then it would mean that the regeneration core has been breached and damaged by another foreign particle that allowed radiation to alter their form.
At least that’s what Jason told him long ago while they were out drinking. Before it became a terrible habit.
- If that’s all, go and take a favorable defensive position. My advice? Near some other merc, one preferably skilled in close quarters. - with that, he began to turn around.
But it looked to him as if Elephant had something else to add, but she struggled to say it out loud.
- What is it? - approaching this woman reminded him how young Jason used to talk.
- Umm, that information on regenerators, c-could you share it with me once f-fighting subsides? I mean, mean, when we win, sir? I’d like to note it down.
With each word that left her mouth, the image of Elephant before she became a mercenary became sharper.
“So not an Empire researcher during Chrysos’s tenure, she would have known much more about regenerators than me” - Dirk thought. - “Desire to take notes shows that thirst for knowledge seen in either those fresh outta collage or those who left some old-life project unfinished. The accent doesn’t point towards Kintsugi descent, so either someone from the south of the ‘sphere’ or the Empire, but under Deus–”
- S-Sir? I-is that a no?
- Sorry, I was listening in on the sounds of the wind. - the old dog didn’t notice how long he left her hanging with that question. - Sure, once we get back on the road during beacon placing.
- Of course, thank you very much, sir! - her joy was palpable.
After that, she did a sloppy salute and ran off to find her advised team-mate.
She was an enigma to Dirk, to say the least. Probably the least problematic soldier of all those within his truck, but her demeanor was proof that he’ll never be able to dub her a reliable asset.
At least not in combat situations.
“Maybe I should ask her to take a look at those animal carcasses after we fend off the next wave?” - wind started picking up, howling louder and louder. - “Maybe they taught her something at college that could give us a slight edge over those beasts”.
That was when he heard it. The sound carried by the wind. It wasn’t just its howl, it was something else, barely audible pitter-patter. Like hundreds of droplets hitting the ground, but there was no rain trailing the falling flakes.
- Enemy attack! Safeties off, fire at will! - he roared through the wind to those that could hear him and to those that couldn’t…
He grabbed his prized Makarov and fired into the air.
“That should be loud enough.”
The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion as all hell broke loose. Teeth and claws flashed in the night as the monsters suddenly transgressed into the circle of light, like demons called from the depths of hell. They bore in their bottomless-black eyes the unquenchable thirst for blood seldom seen in mere predators. Five, ten, twenty of them appeared in seconds, with more to come, moving wildly and unpredictably, surging forwards and trying to penetrate the mercs’ defenses before they could react, but just as quickly as their ranks swelled, they got culled with unforgiving precision and sheer, brutal strength.
With Jason temporarily out of commission, their only frontline was Barbara, but it did not even remotely faze the hardy pilot as her machine kicked into higher gear.
Pollux activated its thruster on minimal output, so as not to kick up a snow-screen on the battlefield, and intercepted the ones that survived the initial volley. It crashed into the blob of flesh and teeth in a spray of bloody mist, then deftly unlocked its joints and crushed underfoot those beasts too slow or too dazed to escape. The ones that did, however, had a nasty surprise ready.
The flesh hounds, three of them, avoided death by the skin of their teeth, but instead of scouring back, pressed the attack in an unrelenting display of speed and agility.
Snaking between and around the suit’s feet, they surrounded it and jumped onto its back, where its limbs could not reach them, searching for a weak-spot to sink their teeth in. An impressive display. One, however, cut short by a burst of superheated air released from the steel colossus’ body.
Two of the three identified targets got launched off the mech in an instant, boiled alive in a fraction of a second, and almost cut in half by pressurized air. The third, annihilated in that same moment by a precise bullet to the head. Their bodies fell limply to the ground, only to be crushed by the back-stepping titan. Their deaths a mere after-thought as Barbara assumed a battle-ready position, clanging the suit’s limbs together, taunting their enemies to come freely.
- Leave the strays to me. Focus on what’s in front. - Black’s voice crackled on the radio waves as he claimed the kill in a roundabout way.
- Thanks, gramps.
- Don’t call me that! - he snapped back, sending another bullet under the machine’s armpit, wounding the next target in the leg. He must have assembled himself some kind of precision rifle
With another handful dead within seconds, something stirred within the horde, and the mutants retreated once more at the snap of a finger. Just like that, silence abruptly returned, almost fooling one to believe that nothing happened, if not for the bodies.
- Whu…? That’s it? Come on! I didn’t even get to really get into the rhythm! - Barbara pouted, audibly disappointed.
- Don’t let your guard down! - Dirk commanded, scanning the blood-soaked clearing. Something was amiss. Some crucial detail. For all the bestial unpredictability, this attack seemed rushed. Foolish. Almost wasteful, in a paradoxically intelligent way.
The pitter-patter grew stronger and more pronounced, more distracting, almost making Dirk fumble, gnawing at the back of his mind as another wave of enemies emerged. This time, however, they were different. The horde no longer rushed in mindlessly, but split into erratic formations, dodging gunfire and making Barbara choose where to engage. Dirk cursed under his breath, his voice drowned out by the roar of thrusters. The subtle change in the animals’ behavior did not go over Dirk’s head, almost certainly confirming his worries. There was something at play here. A hand in the dark, sending its pieces onto the board.
- Garuda, keep Pollux mobile! - Dirk barked, his voice steady despite the chaos. - They’re probing us!
- Aye! - she shot back, pummeling another hound into the ground.
Her thrusters fired again, sending the hulking mass of steel sliding across the snow, only to be ambushed by predators lying in wait below the snowy coat. They leapt as one, this time aiming for joints, but the suit twisted at its midsection, swatting away the assailants with redoubled strength. The metal arm rang out with each impact like a gong to a melody of broken bones and torn tendons. But this, too, wasn’t enough to stop the tide as more and more of the irradiated abominations slipped by, capitalizing on the gaps in the mercs’ reloads, the drum of their feet a deadly reminder of their speed and numbers.
- Watch your flanks! - another command rang out as Dirk sent two precise shots into the encroaching pack. He had no hopes of piercing the monsters’ vitals through their armor-like hides, but he made the best of a bad situation. The bullets flew true, hitting the joints of the beast at the front, bringing it to the ground, making the whole formation trip and fall over each other.
- Don’t mind if I do! - Spoon called out with a mischievous note in his voice, a split-second before an explosion made short work of the clump.
Ted held the other flank with suppressive fire, but even his gun was bound to run dry, and then the real trial was going to start. Or so Dirk thought. Before he could say anything, as if in response to his thoughts, Ted bellowed at the top of his lungs.
- Three… Two… One… NOW! - the rhythmic roar of his gun stopped perfectly on signal, as Ted unlocked the reloading mechanism to the clatter of an empty mag.
- I’ve got you! - Match stepped forwards seamlessly, putting a wall of living fire between them and the hounds, singeing their leathery skin, but mostly acting as a deterrent.
In a cacophony of snarls and yips, the whole group turned tail, giving Ted the window to reload his gun. Perhaps the Three Stooges had potential after all. If only they weren’t such a pain to deal with.
But there was no time for begrudging acknowledgements as the battle raged on. The killcount had to be in the twenties now, but for every hound slain or escaped, two more materialized from the snowy abyss in an incessant assault, spilling out like water from a broken dam.
Elephant ducked in a panic as a couple of the creatures penetrated their defenses, slipping under the hailstorm of bullets. Their flight was cut short, however, by Michael’s bulk as the man swatted one of them out of the air with the butt of his shotgun, putting it down with one shot to the head, then caught the other by the throat in an impressive display of strength and reflex as it leapt for him and eviscerated it, point-blank.
- I’ve got you, I’ve got you. - Michael panted, obviously a little shaken by the close call, wiping some splatters off his face.
- I-I’m sorry, I–
- Relax. Deep breaths. - he reassured her, extending a hand.
Elsewhere, Pollux was slowly disappearing under a mound of flesh as dozens of hounds threw themselves at the metal giant, swarming the mech like a throng of agitated ants, impairing vision, most important of all.
Barbara did her best to throw them off, though her superheated air reserves had long run dry. Black aided her to the best of his abilities, but his weapon simply could not stand up to the sheer volume of meat that kept piling up on her. Even though the machine’s metal armor proved impenetrable to the natural weapons of the hounds, Pollux’s battle efficiency was plummeting by the minute, as evident by the increasing numbers of monsters that slipped by.
- Garuda, how are you holding up? - Dirk checked in, his tone demanding an immediate answer.
- I can hold them off forever, but my killing potential dropped to shit here. - she stated the obvious with a bitter note of frustration in her voice.
The chaos made it hard to think, and with the incessant droning in Dirk’s ears, it was almost impossible, but he didn’t have the luxury of being indecisive.
Not now.
Not ever.
If their firepower dipped any lower, it would spell their end. The dogs were adapting, too, the cries of their deaths getting sparser and sparser as they dodged and weaved, dipping in and out of the light, playing with them.
“C’mon Jason. How much longer do you need?” - he thought to himself, gritting his teeth, glancing at the dormant regenerator. What was supposed to be a quick rest turned out to be something much more pressing.
Dirk squeezed the gun in his hand tight, finding little relief through the pain as regret gnawed at his mind. He neglected to check in on him in time, and they were all paying the price now.
- Head back to the group. We have to scrape that filth off you. - he commanded on the radio.
- I’ll take care of them. - Match volunteered with an unnerving chuckle, his sights already set on the mech, but was quickly shut down by Barbara herself.
- And cook me to death? I’m already boiling here, don’t need an additional coat of liquid flame on my ass, god dammit.
- Fine then, you ungrateful bitch. Drown in the meat-pile, see if I care. - he scoffed back.
- Yeah, you tell her. - Ted cackled, starting another round of his spray and pray routine.
- Hey! You wanna scrap, smartass? Then let’s scrap. The dogs can wait. - she huffed, tossing one of the dogs flying towards Ted, its mangled carcass slamming against the truck and rocking the mercenary on it from side to side.
- Focus, fools! Don’t break the formation! - Dirk yelled into the radio, laying dead another dog that slipped dangerously close to the group, his tactical sense going all kinds of haywire. They were losing ground, and fast.
- Can’t you wake your fucking dog up already? We’re getting fucked here! - Ted growled, angry and frustrated to have to rely on Argonaut.
Dirk was ready to snap back with all the bile he was holding back till now, until he caught something in the corner of his eye, off in the distance. A faint, green light in the depths of inky darkness. Growing, consuming the black void and bathing it in the emerald hue. Somewhere within it, something sinister stared back at the old soldier.
Two putrid black orbs.
What if the monsters didn’t need to take the metal giant down themselves. What if they just had to hold it down long enough for something else to strike. A pit formed in Dirk’s stomach as his eyes grew large with realization.
- I don’t care how you do it, Match. Just free Garuda, now! - Dirk roared with newfound urgency, his voice almost drowned out by the full on metallic buzz that now flooded the battlefield. His own bullets whizzed through the air, hitting the fleshy coat hanging heavily from Pollux, but they did little more than sting the beasts.
- Chernobog! Are you trying to kill me?! - Barbara accused the team leader in disbelief, but there was no time.
- You heard the old man. I wish I could say it’s nothing personal, but you just piss me off, woman. - Match scoffed, and the fire started flowing like water from a hose.
The beasts screeched in pain as the flames licked their flesh, but held on to the mech, powering through the pain. In seconds, however, their grips visibly weakened as the first ones succumbed to their injuries. Whatever Match was spraying, it burned hot, and so their margin of error to save Barbara was even slimmer than Dirk originally thought. He shot the weaker monsters, making them fall off like old scabs, but a gnawing feeling was eating away at his mind. What if it wasn’t enough? He gritted his teeth, his vision betraying him for just a moment as it went blurry.
“Not now.” - he growled to himself, his blood running cold as his fatigue finally started catching up to him, but his will to fight soared to new heights.
He needed more firepower, his own wasn’t enough, not when time was nabbing at their heels. Around him still were few others who could help, in theory at the very least. Just a quick glance told him that many were overwhelmed as it were by the wave of beasts. Michael was barely keeping up while helping Elephant whose weapon proved to be vastly underperforming in the closer-range combat situation.
Ted and Spoon were faring much better, but their duo was the only efficient source of long-range support they had, forcing them to alter fire support lanes could cost them dearly. Each second of concentrated fire and cloud of shrapnel that reaped death within the snowy mist meant that at least a dozen mutated beasts weren't jumping at their throats. So they were both out of the equation.
Good doctor could certainly help but he wasn’t around. Sounds of his bolt action rifle were audible, but his location remained elusive. Which meant that there was only one person left. He stood within the mist, firing something that approximated a Designated Marksman Rifle, but it lacked a long range scope and its magazine was side-fed. There were many corpses at his feet.
Unlike Dirk the frail looking man avoided using anything but his firearms, each time a wild beast got too close he rolled to the side or ducked while still firing, his grip never left the weapon, not for a moment. It showed, as the barrel of the armament flashed white-hot in the snow, sending plumes of vapour to chase the howling wind.
He found the linchpin.
- Black! Finish off the one I mark! - he called out, sending a bullet through the night.
It was a gamble in a way, calculated one, but nonetheless a dangerous bet. If the other man couldn’t hear him through the battle craze or they weren’t on the similar wavelength, it could cost them Pollux.
Still, if the words of the soldier he called out were to be trusted, they were kindred spirits. About time to put that kinship to a test. A small caliber bullet hit one of the beasts, it wasn’t too accurate, one could even call it sloppy.
Rare occurrence for Dirk. But it served a different purpose, it was a nail to a proverbial hammer.
But would the blunt instrument respond to its call?
In the middle of a deafening snowstorm and equally chaotic battle?
Blood erupted from the hurt animal. A cascade of crimson in the raging inferno. The creature unlatched itself, rolling limp over its brethren.
- Consider it done. - Black muttered on the radio with the satisfaction of a hunter aiming at his prey.
He pulled the trigger and the next moment another hound fell dead, its demise marking the beginning of a chain reaction, as the other monsters just below it also fell to the ground, having lost their grip, uncovering Pollux’s thrusters.
- Dash away! - Dirk screamed into the radio, gripping it hard enough to almost crush it in his hand.
He saw the jets light up and the titan shift, but it was too late. As the chittering buzz reached its crescendo, the rest of the hounds jumped away in unison, and an emerald arc of lightning reached out from the darkness, bent like a hooked talon ready to sink into flesh, striking Pollux in the shoulder.
They all first bore witness to a flash, then they heard the sound. Like a horizontal thunder strike.
The radio merely crackled and went silent as the machine fell to the ground.
More teeth flashed at the edge of darkness.