Red Frontier: The Forbidden Jungles of Mars by Gayne Young

Author:Gayne Young [Young, Gayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Six Continents Communications
Published: 2021-09-29T22:00:00+00:00

23

The boat slowed to a halt and Taylor's line went slack.

He reeled it in, placed the rod in the holder of the fighting chair, and walked to the bow to see Rice, Flynn, and Hu staring at an immense downed tree spanning the width of the river. The tree had all but dammed the river with many branches and debris standing eight to 10 feet above the surface of the water.

“Break out the chainsaws,” Rice said.

“How long will it take to clear?” Taylor asked.

Rice stared at the logjam and thought.

“Half day maybe,” Rice offered. “Maybe a full day.”

“What happened? Wind?” Flynn asked.

Taylor ran his eyes down the fallen tree to the bank where he saw that the tree had been felled.

“It's been cut…”

Taylor's comment was interrupted by the sudden cacophony of automatic gunfire.

All spun around to see four men each holding an urban assault rifle and each soaking wet standing at the stern.

“You owe us money,” the tallest of the bunch exclaimed to Rice.

Rice raised his hands to show he was unarmed.

Flynn and Hu did the same.

“Flat, I haven't been up here this way in months,” Rice exclaimed.

Flat scowled.

“You owe me passage for twice before,” he said before turning his attention to Taylor. “Who's your friend? And why is he still armed?”

Taylor stood stoic.

“Drop your pistol on the deck and back away,” Flat demanded.

Taylor's eyes tightened.

His jaw clenched.

Flat walked forward. He held his rifle at the ready.

“I said…” Flat slowly and enunciated. “Drop your pistol and...”

In one seamless lightning-fast motion, Taylor drew his pistol and put two bullets through Flat’s head. The man toppled backward and to the deck. Taylor dropped to one knee and put two rounds into the chest of the man standing next to Flat’s falling body. The man jerked backward and fell dead. The other two men dove into the water. Taylor rushed to the rear of the boat and scanned the depths. One of the men came up firing but Taylor shot him in the eye. His head exploded outward in a rivulet of blood then sunk. The other came up with hands raised.

“Don't shoot!” he begged.

“Name?” Taylor barked.

“Mag.”

“How many more are there?”

The jungle on either side of the boat suddenly erupted in gunfire. Bullets whizzed through the air, cut into the sides of the boat. Shards of wood exploded upward and outward and in every direction.

Taylor rushed to the cabin, dove inside, and retrieved his HK Urban Assault Viper 1 combat rifle. He set the grenade launcher to 20 yards and ran back out onto the deck. He saw Flynn and Hu lying flat on either side of Rice. The man in the middle was bleeding from his shoulder and rolling back and forth in agony. Flynn and Hu were fighting to keep him from doing such.

Taylor aimed his rifle toward the burst of flame from the jungle to the port and fired. The 25-millimeter shell screamed through the air then exploded 5 feet from its target. Dozens of lonsdaleite shards sliced and diced through vegetation and human flesh.

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