I rolled over again and prepared to land in the clearing, working the flight-pack controls on my belt to bring me to a gentle touchdown on the grass. My boots touched the grass, all right, and then kept right on going. I splashed and started sinking.
“It’s a swamp!” I yelled into my helmet mike. “Don’t touch down. Hover and look for solid ground.”
I tried to lift out of the quicksand-thick swamp but my left leg had caught on something. I could hear Sergeant Manfred and some of the troopers calling back and forth:
“Looks like some rocks up there.”
“Set down easy, see if it’s solid ground.”
“Boulders—yaargh!” A scream.
I was trying to pull free of the swamp, ratcheting up the power level of my flight pack slowly because my leg was caught and I did not want to wrench it or pop the tendons in my knee. At the same time I was searching across the open area, watching my troopers as they hovered, searching for a safe landing spot. One of them had screamed. Why?
“Look out! That thing’s moving!”
What in the seven levels of hell was going on? And what was my leg caught on? The equipment packs were coming down now, splashing into the swamp like rocks falling in slow motion; sinking out of sight.
“It’s alive!”
“Blast it! But don’t hit Jerron.”
I realized that my leg was not caught on anything. Something had grabbed the leg and was holding on to it. Tightly. Tight enough to bend the armor of my legging. I could feel it squeezing against my calf. Whatever it was, it was trying to pull me down into the grass-choked water.
I cranked the flight-pack power up higher and lifted up out of the swamp with something hanging on to my leg. I looked down and saw a nightmare tangle of tentacles and sharp snapping claws. It was climbing up my leg, trying to crack my armor and get at the meat inside.
Still rising slowly into the night sky, I pulled my pistol from its holster and took careful aim. Don’t shoot your own foot off, I warned myself. I thumbed the laser power to low and tried to convince my would-be devourer to let go. It snaked another tentacle toward my wrist, pincer snapping audibly despite the rush of wind whipping past my helmet.
“It’s you or me,” I said aloud, thumbing the pistol up to half power and slicing off the reaching tentacle. The creature made a growling sound and waved the severed end of its tentacle in the air, spewing dark blood.
Looking down again, I saw its face: a collection of clacking mandibles and glittering eyes, dozens of them. I fired at the eyes, raising the power of my pistol slowly, astounded that the beast—whatever it was—took the punishment for what seemed like an eternity to me. Just as I began to wonder if the laser beam was having any effect on it at all, it gave a howling shriek and dropped away from me.
Suddenly freed of its weight, I shot up even higher into the night sky. I gulped for breath and then started back down.
A full-scale battle was going on below me. I could see laser flashes and hear my troopers yelling and calling back and forth.
“The damned rocks are alive!”
“And hungry!”
“And friggin’ hard to kill!”
The entire swamp was filled with carnivorous creatures thrashing, slashing, grabbing at our bodies as if we had been sent by heaven to feed them. My troopers splashed through the soupy water, shooting at the swamp creatures while trying not to hit one another.
And our equipment packs, the components of the transceiver and all our supplies, had sunk out of sight to the bottom of the swamp.
“Full power on the pistols,” I called to them on the command frequency. “Whoever’s got two hands free, unlimber a rifle and go after them.”
Panting, battered, frightened, we finally fought free and made our way into the trees. The ground was firmer there and free of things that wanted to eat us. At least, it seemed that way.
We sprawled on the solid ground, massive trees rising in the darkness all around us, and caught our breaths.