James Axler – Gemini Rising

“No, sir. Some hunters found us,” the corporal said. “We have them buried in the back under some rocks.”

“It’s these wired muties,” the private continued. “Ropy things drop from trees and drain your blood unless you get them off fast. And if their stingers get under the skin, you die from blood poisoning. Triple bad. You go crazy screaming and shitting yourself. Tom bit off his own fingers!”

“I’d rather take a bullet in the belly,” the corporal added.

“How many have we lost?” the lieutenant asked grimly.

“Fourteen. Bill and I here are the only men left.”

“It was getting bad, sir , the flapjackswe call them that sir, ’cause that’s what they look likewell, they were getting bold. Hell, we found one of the suckers inside the cave.”

“So we disobeyed orders, sir, cracked open some crates of grens and went hunting,” the corporal said nervously. “Pretty damn sure we got them all, sir.”

The lieutenant waited a few minutes, watching their faces, then relaxed and cracked a smile. “Must have been tough. Well done, troopers. My compliments.”

“Thank you, sir!”

A piercing scream sounded outside. Slapping the bolts of their blasters, the sec men rushed out of the cave to find the sergeant running around the clearing with a translucent pulsating mass on his back. The writhing tentacles were wrapped around his chest and face, the clear, ropy limbs visibly pulsating as the mutie drained off his blood.

The corporal rushed forward brandishing a knife, but a dozen other sec men burped their blasters, the rounds tearing the mutie apart. The riddled mess hit the ground and was torn to pieces by another fusillade.

Staggering away from the dead mutie, the sergeant fell to his knees, bleeding from a dozen open wounds. “Help me” the man croaked, his face and neck bristling with the torn-off stingers.

“Poor bastard,” the private said, raising his blaster. “Don’t” the lieutenant snapped, slapping it aside. Rushing to the side of the fallen sec man, the officer brushed the matted hair off his sweaty face. “Easy, old friend,” he whispered, drawing his handcannon. “You’re going to be fine. Just fine.”

Foaming at the mouth, the dying man convulsed, blood welling freely from the slashes and punctures. The blue cloth of the uniform was now black over most of his body.

Clicking the hammer on his piece, the lieutenant chuckled. “Hey, remember when we found that farm with the three beautiful daughters, so we shot their folks and did them until we just couldn’t do it anymore?”

Wheezing for breath, the man fell over on his side, fingers clawing the empty air.

“Remember those three blondes!” the lieutenant demanded, going to a knee and shaking the man’s shoulder. “The blondes!”

“What?” the sergeant asked weakly, clearly disoriented. “The girlsyeah, they were so pretty”

The blaster discharge slammed the body flat, the muzzle-blast setting fire to the mutilated shirt. The sergeant made no attempt to move, and in seconds the tainted blood ceased flowing from the wounds.

“Sweet Jesus,” a sec man gasped from the turret of the LAV 25. “You chilled one of your own men!”

Snarling in rage, the lieutenant swung the weapon on the driver of the APC. “Say that again, and I’ll open you like a self-heat. Charlie was a buddy, and I made his last thoughts happy. There was nothing else anybody could do. He was already dead.”

“It’s the truth,” the corporal said from the cave. “He did the best thing, the only thing.”

Confused murmurs arose from the rest of the troops, and they reluctantly accepted the information. Now they fearfully watched the trees, hands twisting on the stocks of their blasters.

The lieutenant bolstered his weapon. “Corporal, you’re a sergeant now. Take ten men and sweep this whole forest. Kill anything you find. Deer, birds, mice, men. I want a fucking clear zone eighty yards in every direction!”

“Sir!” The new sergeant turned to address the others. “Okay, you apes, let’s move with a purpose! Unless you want one of those stinking muties sucking out your guts some day!”

Snapping the bolts on the Kalashnikovs, the grim sec men swept through the forest, the stuttering fire of their predark weapons rattling the dense greenery in the clarion call of death.