Billy Sunday didn't like the specks moving across the desert. He didn't like the specks moving at night like they had no problem seeing. He didn't like the fact that if he used all of his ammo, he didn't have a way to replenish his supply.

He wondered what the others thought about the mess they were in.

“Take the top of those columns,” said Spinnelli. “Don't get too close to the plants. We will hold fire until we need to shoot. Remember to conserve ammo. We can't use everything up on one fight.”

Billy waited as the others climbed the rock columns surrounding the giant plant tower. He picked one away from where he figured the main rush would take place. He wanted to be able to run if he had to do that.

He doubted he would have the chance.

If the red specks were some kind of eyes, he was looking at an army fully capable of overrunning their position with men to spare. They would run out of ammo trying to stop all of the enemy.

And they couldn't run far over the desert. The enemy moved faster than his squad on the sand and grit. He didn't like the thought of what would happen if they were caught with no cover at all.

Being eaten alive jumped to the top of his list for some reason. He tried to push the thought down as he watched the specks draw closer.

“Keep a bullet for yourselves,” said Spinnelli. “We don't know what these guys do to prisoners, and I have a feeling we don't want to find out.”

“Eating people is on the list,” said Hanson.

“Did you have to say that?,” asked Eckles. “They might stop their charge once they know we'll kill a few of them.”

Billy doubted that. As the mob charged full-tilt across the desert, he studied them. And his study said these guys weren't going to stop if a few of them were shot. They would keep coming until they drowned their enemy with bodies.

He thought about the situation.

The enemy stood in a bipedal way with long arms descending to hands with long fingers. Some of them looked bulkier than others. Some rode sleds. A few carried poles. Wisps of vague hair waved on the top of their gourd heads. Their skin looked gray and leathery. Their irregular teeth stood out when the loose lips of their mouths fell from them.

“Try for head shots,” said Spinnelli, on the radio. “We don't know if rifle bullets will do anything to their bodies.”

“Look like human sharks,” said Hanson.

Billy didn't disagree with that assessment.

His squad had climbed five of the six columns. They faced the horde in a loose crescent. Espy had taken the column closest to the middle of their formation. He wouldn't have to correct that much at point blank range with his rifle. Hanson and Eckles had taken the columns next to his. They carried the heavier ordnance. Spinnelli had taken a flank, leaving him the other one.

He took aim with his rifle. He didn't need the telescopic sight the way the horde covered ground. They would be right on the squad in another minute of hard running.

“All right,” said Spinnelli. “Single shot. We can't let them pull us down. They'll chew us up.”

“What if they are friendly?,” asked Hanson.

“Then they better stop,” said Spinnelli.

Billy wished he had another bag of magazines. They would shoot their ammunition out before they ran out of targets.

The horde closed on the column. They made some noise in the back of their throats. They seemed happy to have something to latch on.

Espy fired his rifle into the face of the closest enemy. He jacked the shell out of the breech of his rifle and closed it up. He fired again, and again, until he ran through his first magazine.

Every shot had gone through a head. The enemy fell and crumbled under the assault.

Billy took aim and fired as efficiently as he could as the horde kept coming. He noticed the ones with the poles sprint out in front. He saw them plant the poles and start to vault up to where he was crouching. He switched the rifle from single shot and fired bursts into the pole vaulters.

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“What are you doing, Sunday?,” demanded Spinnelli.

“The ones with the poles and get on top of the columns with us,” said Billy. He dropped his empty magazine and replaced it. “Take them out first.”

“Everyone got that?,” said Spinnelli. “The ones with poles can get up to us without having to climb.”

“But can they jump over a grenade?,” said Eckles. He tossed one of his remaining grenades into the crowd. The resulting bang scattered parts everywhere.

“Hold on the grenades,” said Spinnelli. The radio squawked. “The sleds are mobile battering rams.”

Billy took aim at a sled heading his way. He couldn't stop the mass of it with bullets. He could and did shoot the driver. He winced as body parts came off the driver, but he kept pushing the sled.

“Body shots seem ineffective,” he reported.

“No joke,” said Eckles.

“Throw grenades,” said Spinnelli. “They're going to overrun us unless we blast a clear zone around our columns.”

Billy let his rifle fall down on its sling. He pulled a grenade, armed it, and threw it into the crowd. He dropped down and covered his ears and closed his eyes. The grenade blew a hole in the line with flying body parts dropping down out of the sky.

“These guys are still coming,” said Hanson. “I've never seen anything like it.”

Billy hadn't either. How many would they have to kill before they gave up. Would they ever give up?

“We need to fall back,” said Spinnelli.

“We can't, Cap,” said Hanson. “The only place to fall back to is the plant tower, and they already cover the open ground.”

Billy looked around.

The swarm of gray monsters had split around the columns. Some of them had tried to get at the squad, but the ones who hadn't had run straight for the plants.

“Only shoot at the ones trying to get at us,” said Spinnelli. “Any who leave us alone can wait.”

Billy pulled his pistol. This close meant a rifle would be hard to maneuver if the things tried to climb up to grab him. And he needed to keep his vision clear while he watched for threats.

A green ball flew by Billy. He checked the path. He squinted at the flowers on the vines climbing down from the top of the tower. A few of the flowers close to the gray runners spit more of the green balls at their targets.

“The plants shoot things,” said Billy. “It's a good thing we didn't try to get close earlier. It would have been a perfect ambush.”

“We should have taken our chances with the armored column,” said Eckles.

“This is great,” said Hanson. “We would have never seen this back home.”

“We still have a major problem or two to iron out,” said Spinnelli. “First, we have to get through the night, and hope those things don't stick around in the day time. Then we can try to deal with the rest of it.”

Billy agreed with the captain. They were running low on ammo after one encounter with those gray machines. What happened if they ran into another horde without a place to get off the desert floor. They couldn't kill the things fast enough in his opinion.

And the plants seemed to target anything moving in their area. That made them a great defensive barrier but also a natural hazard for his squad.

And he had no way to get back to where they belonged without that shimmer in the air. How did he find another so he could get out of this death trap?

The horde thinned out after continuous pummeling by the plants. The last one shattered before falling into a pile of ash. Billy put his pistol away and relaxed for the first time since this began.

“We get some sleep here,” said Spinnelli. “We need a watch until the sun comes out.”

“I got the first two hours,” said Hanson. “I don't think I can go to sleep after what we just saw.”

“All right,” said Spinnelli. “Wake up your relief in four hours. That guy will wake up his. As soon as the sun comes up, we need to think of a way to get food and water.”

“I don't think the plants will like that,” said Hanson.

“We'll think of something,” said Spinnelli. “And if you guys have some way we can cross the desert faster, that would be nice.”

Billy sat down on the top of the column. He had a blanket in his kit. He got it and pulled it around his shoulders as he looked at the battlefield at his feet. His eyes drifted to the sleds. They had survived where their owners had bitten a bullet.

Maybe the squad could use those to get across the sand. That just left food and water. The heat would cook them fast without water.

Billy considered options as he let himself doze. Until he was barricaded behind walls with firing ports, he wasn't going to sleep deeply again.

Facing an implacable enemy that wasn't scared of losing individuals as long as they accomplished their objective was not something he expected to deal with after their mission.

He expected to be fishing near his home in Minnesota.

Billy woke with a start several times, but he tried to keep his movements to a minimum. He didn't want to fall off the columns after surviving the battle. That would be a disaster at this point.

Where could they go from here? They had no idea where water would be, or if there was edible plants or animals on the planet. They had no transportation unless they could use the sleds somehow. And they had no idea if there were more of the desert people they had killed.

And they had no way to replenish their supplies of ammunition and water.

What they needed was some kind of air transport. He doubted they were going to find anything like that unless they did a lot more walking.

The sun came up as Billy dozed in place. Eckles called for him to wake up and get ready to move out.

Billy stretched and put his blanket back in his kit. He rubbed his teeth with a finger.

“Which way are we going?,” he asked.

“Wherever that river is going,” said Eckles.

Billy looked around. A strip of silver drifted across the sand. It looked like a mirage.

“Let's go before something else shows up,” he said. He climbed down from his perch.