Bitter Harvest (Harvest Trilogy, Book 2) by Michael R. Hicks

Author:Michael R. Hicks [Hicks, Michael R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Imperial Guard Publishing, LLC
Published: 2012-09-13T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

The night had dissolved into a maelstrom of screams and chaos as Jack and the others ran, following Kuybishev, who was still bellowing orders at his men. Gunfire had erupted all around them, the muzzle flashes illuminating the terrified faces of the soldiers.

Jack had no idea where they were going. He now had his arm wrapped around Mikhailov’s waist, helping him along, while his free hand clutched the KS-K shotgun. Rudenko ran behind them, periodically turning around to watch their backs, his heavy footsteps splashing in the cold, muddy ground.

A man in front of them went down, clutching at his leg and screaming. Jack couldn’t see him well in the dark, but knew what must have happened: he’d stepped on a larval harvester. As they ran, he saw five more men near them go down. Jack slowed down, instinctively wanting to help them.

“No!” Rudenko shoved him forward. “Too late for them!”

Jack didn’t turn around at the boom of Rudenko’s shotgun and the blinding flare of the Dragon’s Breath. The screams of the men who were suddenly transformed into blazing pyres rang in Jack’s ears, but he kept running.

Kuybishev stopped and made a series of hand signals while he spoke rapidly into his radio. The company commanders shouted orders to their men who were converging out of the darkness.

“Here, Jack,” Mikhailov gasped. “We make our stand here. Defensive perimeter.”

Looking around them, Jack could see that they were in an open field near the center of the town. While there was little light to aim by, it made for a good killing ground against opponents who had to close to short range. The only alternative would have been to hole up in some houses, but then the harvesters could have overwhelmed them piecemeal.

That made Jack wonder about the level of cooperation shared by the creatures. The old ones certainly worked well enough toward a common goal, although they typically operated as individuals. Then again, there had been so few of them that outside of very special circumstances, such as the attack on the seed vault on Spitsbergen or the final arrangements for shipping the New Horizons seed, gathering on any regular basis would probably have disrupted their many operations.

The ones here, however, had enough cognitive capability to set an ambush for a modern military force, and judging from the growing volume of fire from the airborne soldiers did not share the problem of scarcity.

While Kuybishev’s men were terrified, they didn’t break discipline. As they dashed into the expanding defensive circle, their officers and NCOs got them under control, prepared them to fight back.

The colonel shouted an order, which Mikhailov translated for Jack. “Lights!”

Hundreds of tactical lights, most of them attached to the men’s weapons, flicked on, stabbing outward from the defensive circle like spokes on a wheel.

Men were still coming out of the dark, sometimes diving over the heads of their comrades, who opened fire on the sinister shapes that pursued them.

It was then that Jack had a terrible thought. Leaving

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