Calm Before The Storm (Apocalypse Paused Book 6) by Michael Todd & Michael Anderle

Author:Michael Todd & Michael Anderle [Todd, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2019-02-16T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

A scorpion dug free from the earth between a pale bush and a sagging luminescent tree. It emerged behind Garpiel, who had focused his fire on another pair of the creatures that had appeared on the opposite side of the group.

Without thought, Wallace used his suit to propel himself forward. It whirred loudly as he vaulted to clear the significant distance with a single leap. He landed almost directly on the emerging scorpion. One of his metal-shod feet stamped on the creature’s nearer claw and cracked it, and the other struck the at the point where the stinger began to push free. The arachnid froze and squeaked. Its many-tentacled head, the true face it kept hidden until it needed the attack advantage, blossomed out from beneath the carapace that usually covered it.

He punched downward with his left fist and used the suit and all his natural strength to generate maximum force behind his gauntlet. The attacker’s head shattered into a disgusting mass of slimy chunks and its body writhed before it stilled. No ammo had been wasted.

“Whoa, damn—thanks,” Garpiel muttered.

The sergeant’s gaze stilled and settled on a noticeable smudge that looked like the entrance of a tunnel about a hundred yards ahead. He could faintly discern its shadow between the trunks of the trees, which at least were not so tightly packed as those in the jungle above the surface. “That way,” he said. “Go.”

Garpiel hustled in that direction followed immediately by the other soldiers. They’d killed another of the attacking scorpions to leave only one, which seemed slightly wounded, near the rear. Wallace jogged toward it.

The arachnid didn’t seem to notice him until the last second, by which point it was too late. He kicked it in the side as hard as possible to break two of its hind-legs and crack its armor. The creature lurched away, albeit only a few feet since it was large and heavy. Its tail lashed out clumsily and he pivoted to dodge it. Fortuitously, the creature somehow tripped over a glowing root and fell backward to expose its underbelly.

“We have a real winner here,” he muttered, his rifle already raised, and fired. Three rounds tore into its central abdomen, severed another leg in the process, and scattered ichorous gray guts and blood across the alien foliage. It crumpled into the weeds as its squeak gradually died like a squeeze-toy from which all the air had been forced.

A quick glance confirmed that there were no more of them. Wallace hastened to join the fleeing column, glad that he was able to cover their rear but worried about what the hell might await them in the tunnel ahead. Probably more fucking scorpions, he decided morosely.

“Everyone stay in tight formation,” he ordered as he reached the group. Thanks to his exoskeleton, the uphill did not seem to slow him down as it did everyone else. “Try to have two men abreast in front—lights on, eyes open. There aren’t any more of them behind us for now.

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