The shuttle touches down on the roof. It’s a small shuttle, a four-person shuttle specifically, one built to carry squads from the main ship to a mission somewhere else. Marshall was right, they plan to kill us as soon as they get the information. My body is filled with anticipation and anxiety. A few weeks ago, I would have taken off running, but now I’m trying to focus the energy. Force down the vomit and do what needs to be done. I watch as they step out of the ship, full armor, no missing helmets. They’re armed to the teeth. I gave Marshall my rifle because I didn’t want to seem threatening to them. They didn’t have the same concerns about scaring me.

“Are you Duane Bishop,” one of the soldiers asks through her mask.

“Yes, I’m Duane,” I keep my answer short. No need to get comfortable.

“You have some information about what happened here?”

“Yes, we can talk about it on the shuttle,” I step forward.

“Wait, you said there were two of you. Where is the other.”

“He didn’t make it.”

“I need to see the data,” she demands.

“We can talk on the shuttle.”

“Data first.”

“You’re not letting me on that shuttle are you,” I ask.

“You’re not going to give me the data either,” she gives a hand sign and the other soldiers prepare their rifles.

“Data is down stairs. I don’t suppose you’re going to let me get a head start?”

“Sure, why not,” she jokes, prompting laughs from the other three.

“Idiots,” I mumble as I turn and walk away.

“What did you just say,” a male soldier yells after me.

“I said you’re dead,” I yank open the door.

Marshall extends his hand down. His injured shoulder makes it hard for him to pull me up. My feet kick and slide along the wall until I’m finally up high with him. The soldiers shout expletives as they come face to face with the grubs. Face to face with the creatures that their superiors had a hand in creating. I’m sure only seconds go by before they fire the first shots, but it feels like minutes. They didn’t know what they were walking into. They thought they would kill us and go home then sleep well. I watch as they fire aimlessly. Body shots are the best shots to take because it’s easy to hit the body shots. But they’re surprised as the grubs simply shake off the gunshots. They’re panicking, they haven’t figured out that head shots are the way to kill them.

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Marshall fires several shots to prevent them from reaching the shuttle. They’re forced to choose between Marshall’s bullets or the grubs. They choose the grubs, the unknown and they’re worse for it. The grubs swarm them, easily take them to the ground. They’re unable to break through the armor. A bunch of gunshots fire through the dogpile of grubs from the soldiers at the bottom. The screams force me to close my eyes, not wanting to see what comes next.

But people are made for war, we love a violence. I can’t help but to reopen my eyes when the screams get louder. A few of the grubs fall from the building trying to break into the shuttle. The engines begin to sound as the shuttle prepares for takeoff. There was a pilot, we forgot the pilot. The shuttle is gone in an instant leaving a trail of grubs falling from the roof and comrades being mauled. The screams intensify and it becomes clear the grubs have cracked through the armor. Likely the helmets as the screams soon fade. The grubs turn their attention to us as the lucky few feast on the fallen soldiers. Their face being gnawed off, flesh giving way to the bone as grubs cover their own faces in blood while trying to crack through the armor.

“Time to clean up the rest,” Marshall passes me my rifle.

We’re dead no matter what happens now. When the pilot tells the rest of the crew sent to wipe us our what happened, they’ll send more to kill us. They’ll be more prepared, it’ll be the end. This is it, our last stand. A triumphant one. Me, Marshall, and a seemingly endless stream of grubs. As I fire hole after hole into grubs reaching towards our feet I can’t focus on the task at hand. I wonder if Aaimina knows that she’s walking into a trap. Even if she betrayed me, I can only think of her as someone I want to protect. I’m wishing I had tried some of Niko’s sunshine right about now. I’m wondering just how many survivors are going to go meet Draven and if they have guns. I hope they can take him, at least a few can get out and send for the rest. That’s the best cast scenario.”

I hear Marshall’s armor crash to the ground as a grub pulls his foot down. I focus my aim on the grubs yanking Marshall down. He falls for a moment but I fire at the grubs close by. He tries to fight them off as I pull him by the back of his armor, back to the platform with me. I pass him the handgun I had taken from him and he resumes firing. We don’t need to speak we’re in synch at the moment. Watching for the grubs grabbing at our legs and taking as many headshots as we can land while the frenzies grubs move in a crowd bashing at the small structure supporting us.

It seems like forever before the final grub stops moving. The rooftop and ground below are covered with the dead. I’ve never seen so much blood in one place. I check out the soldiers who got covered. All four have their faces gone, nothing but bone left beneath but the grubs couldn’t get through the armor. I suppose losing my helmet wasn’t a big deal after all. Sucks that we weren’t able to get the shuttle, but it feels good knowing that we at least got some sort of revenge.