Lay the Hate (Forgotten Ruin Book 4) by Jason Anspach & Nick Cole

Author:Jason Anspach & Nick Cole [Anspach, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WarGate Books
Published: 2021-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

I heard Sergeant Thor bellowing through the black smoke, “Talker, on me!”

I checked in with Sergeant Herrera that Skerrit was back in the fight. Position two now had a crossfire on the new enemy advance and their ammunition was holding with Skerrit operational. Hochner was getting breathers, but he was still continuing to effortlessly cut down any demon orc that managed to get close enough to play.

I had no idea what was going on with any of the other fighting positions at that moment, but a wind was starting to come from offshore and push the black smoke back into the faces of the attacking orcs, and I counted that as a win for us.

The unseen orcs firing indirectly from farther out and behind cover replied with more arrow fire, supporting screaming suicide assaults on all positions as smaller, more wiry demon orcs came in savagely frothing at the mouth and swinging wicked cleavers for the Rangers before they got riddled with outgoing lead or hacked to pieces by Rangers.

At the same moment, the MPIMs must have detonated over on the left. A deafening explosion rocked the soundscape and made the ground shake near the tower. Bits of stone crumbled and fell onto the old mosaics and tiles. History surrendering to violence. Letting go of stories we would never know, and that weren’t important anymore.

The only thing that mattered here in the battle between the demon orcs and the Rangers… was who was meaner.

To the orcs’ credit they understood that, and didn’t fade or give ground. Or even relent from assaults that left every one of the last wave dead.

But neither did the Rangers.

Relent, that is.

More of the survivors of Three Four Heavy joined the fight and went into action immediately. Lobbing grenades that had stayed on their carriers as they cast off from the wreckage of the galley, their frags sailing out into the identified staging position of the demon orcs making ready to push and push again.

I made the tower entrance and found Sergeant Thor firing from there now. The targeted arrow fire had been too much for the top of the tower. I came over the sea wall and low-crouched to the entrance, slipping past the massive sniper and into the emerald gloom of the Tower of Mermaids.

He didn’t wait long to tell me what he needed. He faded into the room, ejected a huge magazine from the anti-materiel rifle, and cocked his head, listening for a moment to something I was immediately aware of.

“Talker… you hearing something?”

“Uh… hearing a lot of things, Sar’nt. Gunfire. Orcs shrieking that madness they’re doing like they’re junkies on super meth. I’d like them to stop that. Seriously. Uh… explosion about a minute ago which I assume was the mines on the left flank. What else?”

“Negative, Private Talker. Getting something else and it’s…”

He reached down and pulled a new magazine on Mjölnir. He pulled off his EarPro and listened as he counted his remaining mags.

We were all running low now.

That’s not good.

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