Survival Aptitude Test: Rise (The Extinction Odyssey Book 3) by Sheriff Mike

Author:Sheriff, Mike [Sheriff, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: The Appended Press
Published: 2017-04-22T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

SONIC ROUNDS SMACKED the wall’s southern parapet. Jagged chunks of crystalline sprayed from the impact points. Daoren crouched before Heqet, shielding her from the debris. Six Jireni guards kneeled in a semi-circle to their rear. They offered an additional layer of protection, one that was sorely needed.

Three hundred feet below, the Asianoid horde had advanced halfway across the cull zone—close enough to lay down effective suppressing fire from their personal arms. The battlement had become a lethal environment, the threats now emanating from two directions.

Daoren turned his head and scanned the walkway.

Half the crew-served weapons had been redeployed to engage the southern threat. The automated-weapon systems perched atop their nullglass pedestals, paralyzed and useless. They’d depleted their munition reserves minutes earlier.

One hundred feet to the west, Commander Slabidan huddled inside the watchtower’s base along with the other members of the hastily assembled command post. Commander Hyro remained at the northern parapet, coordinating the ever-thinning defenses arrayed against the mongrel attack. Her voice had grown more and more strident over the last few minutes.

A single aeroshrike remained airborne north of the wall. If it fell to the cullcraft’s devastating weapon, the attack’s momentum would surely swing in favor of the mongrels. That wouldn’t mean the battle was over, however. If the Jireni atop the wall could turn back the Asianoid advance, the city-state might still survive the day.

“Keep pouring it on them!” he shouted at the nearest gun crews. “Make them pay for every inch of ground!” He rose and strode the southern parapet, passing behind a line of chain guns. The crews had depressed each barrel at a forty-five-degree angle to reach the targets below. The opaque muzzles flash, emitting a relentless chatter. “Check your rate and mark your targets!” he said. “One sonic round—one cull! One glass dart—one cull!”

Two Jireni paused and bowed, acknowledging the command. Daoren stabbed his finger toward the parapet. “Don’t stop to salute me! Keep fi—”

Twin thunderclaps assaulted the air, rattling the parapet. Daren whirled around.

Half-a-mile north, roiling flames engulfed the tail section of the last remaining aeroshrike. Its six airscrews unleashed an anguished howl as its nose swung south—the commander must have ordered full power to evade the advancing cullcraft. The vessel wallowed from side to side, shedding speed and altitude as it closed the wall.

Daoren’s heart skipped a beat—the wounded aeroshrike was heading straight for the watchtower. If it lost any more altitude, it would—

A brilliant disk of flame punched through the aeroshrike’s skin, propelling armor panels through the air at near-supersonic speeds. Another hydrogen cell ruptured seconds later. The vessel’s sink-rate doubled.

Daoren sprinted toward Heqet, pointing up at the airborne inferno. He cupped his mouth with his other hand. “Clear the watchtower! Clear the watchtower!”

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