Are you ready?' he asks, glancing back over his shoulder towards the trenches a few dozen metres away. The odd stray ork shot zips past, but not that close. Greaves soon appears too,
stamping through the snow to stand in front of the Colonel with his hands on hips.
'You're disobeying orders, Schaeffer/ Greaves says hotly, jabbing at the Colonel with an accusing finger. 'You're abandoning your position/
'If you get the opportunity, follow us/ the Colonel replies calmly, ignoring the accusation.
You're a coward, Schaeffer/ die bulky man counters, prodding a finger into the Colonel's chest. 'You're no better dian these scum we have to lead.'
'Goodbye, Colonel Greaves/ the Colonel says shortly, and I can tell he's holding his temper in check. 'We probably will not meet again/
Greaves continues cursing us as we trudge off through the snow, Franx and Loron leading the ploughfoots at the front, the Colonel at the rear.
As we near the top of the ridge again die wind starts to really bite, managing to push its way onto my face despite the thick fur lining of my coat's hood. Already my legs are beginning to feel tired, after just a couple of kilometres. The Colonel pushes us hard, not saying a word, just giving us a scathing look when one of us falters or slows down. I trudge on, concentrating all my dioughts on lifting my feet and taking the next step, my eyes focused on Lord's back in front of me, letting me detach my mind from die real world.
The light begins to fail soon after, the sun dipping beneath the mountains and casting a red glow across the summits. It would be quite beautiful if I hadn't seen the snow back in die valley stained red and black with blood. Now all the sunset reminds me of is hacked limbs and dismembered bodies. It seems diere's notiiing left that isn't tainted by bloodshed now. I see children and they just remind me of the pile of small corpses we found in Ravensbrost on Carlille Two. Every time I think of somediing like flowers, I just remember False Hope and the alien beast of the Heart of the Jungle. A sunny day just takes me back to the crushing heat of the Gathalon ash wastes, where two hundred men sank into the shifting ash dunes, the corrosive dust eating away at diem even as they were sucked down. As for any kind of bugs, well I guess you know what tfiey remind me of. There are no pleasures left anywhere except the
company of my fellow Last Chancers, and those moments are few and far between. Why does everything have to remind me of a war or batdefield somewhere? Does the Colonel realise this? Is this part of the punishment, to have everything stripped away from you? All my comfortable illusions have been torn apart over the past three years. When I joined up, I thought I'd be able to make a difference. Hah, what a joke. I've seen batde widi ten diousand men killed in an afternoon, die rockets and shells raining down like explosive hail for hour after hour. I've shot, strangled and stabbed more enemies than I can remember. There's not a sensation I can feel now that hasn't been stained somehow. Even jumping in the tub back in Epsilon Station, my first thoughts were memories of a river crossing on Juno. Mangled bodies floating past as we tried to swim across, men being dragged down by the swift undercurrents, tracer fire screaming dirough die night towards us.
It's around midnight before the Colonel calls a stop. We don't even bother setting camp or cooking, everybody takes a few bites of salted meat and then collapses with dieir blankets wrapped around them. I drift into an exhausted sleep, woken occasionally by die Colonel, who's doing the rounds, making sure the cold hasn't got to anyone too much. It must only have been a couple of hours when he kicks us all awake again. It's still pitch dark as we flounder around getting ready, die Colonel snarling at us to get a move on. Once more die march starts, forcing my aching legs to work, at points literally hauling myself dirough die snow on my hands and knees, sinking into die cold white layer up to my elbows.
A sudden scream of panic has everybody reaching for their guns, but Gappo comes hurrying back to tell the Colonel someone's wandered into a crevasse in the dark. I push myself after die Colonel as he forges ahead, Gappo guiding us to where the hole is. I can see frag all in the dark, and die Colonel asks who it is. There's just a groan in reply, and we do a quick name check of everybody else and find that bloody Poal is missing.
'We cannot afford the time for a rescue/ the Colonel announces, stepping away from die crevasse's edge. There is no way of telling how far down he is and we do not have the proper equipment/
There's a few discontented murmurs, but everyone's too cold to really argue. Gappo stays by the edge after everyone else has gone. When he turns and looks at me, there's a blank look in his eyes.
'It only takes a few minutes/ he says, to himself I think. 'He'll just fall asleep. He won't know what's happening/
'If it's deep, he's probably out of it already/ I say, laying a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away. He takes a couple of steps, then stops again.
'We have to keep going!' I snap at him, dragging him forward again. "We reach Epsilon or we all die/
The Colonel pushes us without a break for the whole of the next day as well. I walked past someone lying in the snow in the afternoon. They were face down, I couldn't tell who it was and didn't have the energy to try to find out. I try to see who's missing when we stop, but my eyes are crusted up and sore, and everyone looks the same in their heavy coats with the hoods pulled tight across their faces. I force myself to gulp down some more preserved meat. Nobody says a word to each other, and even the Colonel is quieter than usual. I sit there shivering, hands clasped across my chest, feeling an ache in every single bone and muscle. My head's just nodding as my body gives up the fight against the cold and sleep begins to take over, when someone's shaking me awake again.
'What the...?' I snarl, slapping the hand away.
'It's Franx/ says Gappo.
That's all he needs to say. He helps me to my feet and we make our way over to where he's lying. I crouch down beside him and peer inside his hood. His face is crusted with ice, and looks extremely pale. A moment later and Lorii joins us, bending close, her cheek next to his mouth.
'Still breathing/ she tells us, straightening out. 'Barely/
'I can't leave him/ Gappo declares, and I nod in agreement. I kind of promised myself that Franx was going to survive this one. 'What can we do? I'm too tired to carry anything other than this coat/
'Put him on the sled/ Lorii suggests.
"The ploughfoots are already pulling as much as they're supposed to/ Gappo cautions, stamping his feet to keep himself warm.
'Well, they'll have to work harder. We'll get them to do it in shifts/ I decide. Nobody argues.
There's a strange whinnying of pain from the ploughfoot at the head of the diminishing column. Two men didn't wake up, another two collapsed this morning. The midday sun glares off the snow, making it as difficult to see during the day as it is at night.
'Kage!' I hear the Colonel bellowing, and I shuffle forward. The ploughfoot is lying in the snow, its left hind leg at an odd angle and clearly broken. The sled is over-turned on a rock nearby.
'Sir?' I ask as die Colonel stands up from where he was kneeling next to the stricken animal.
'Organise the men into teams of six, and rig up the harness into drag ropes/ he says. He pulls his bolt pistol from its holster, places the muzzle against die side of die ploughfoot's head and blows its brains out. My first thought is the fresh meat it could provide, but a glance at die Colonel reminds me that we won't be wasting a second. Then I'm filled with a sudden surge of hatred.
You wouldn't do the same for us/ I snarl at Schaeffer, pointing to the still-smoking bolt pistol.
'If you had also served the Emperor well, you might have deserved some mercy/ he counters, bolstering the pistol. You have not, and you do not deserve anything/