No wonder this village looked different to the others they’d seen. No wonder it looked so old and decayed, like everyone had disappeared overnight; just gone away and left everything they owned behind them.
They had left. In coffins.
The buildings must have been lying there exposed to the sun, wind, and radiation for decades, since the last villagers died. It was no surprise that walls and floors had collapsed in that time, with no-one to repair them.
The girl had vanished into a rectangular building near the edge of the village. It looked about six metres tall, and twice as wide, with doors big enough that a horse and cart could pass through them. Some kind of barn, from the look of it. The doors were closed now, and she must have shut them behind her. But why? She couldn’t live up here, unless she’d built some kind of radiation shelter inside. As soon as the sun rose, she’d just be counting the hours until a solar storm killed her.
“Alice, infrared.”
The image on Logan’s visor flickered for a split second, then became a mass of colour. The wood was still warm from the heat of the day, and glowed brighter than the dimmer dirt and the cold, dark sky. There was no sign of the girl, or anything human, but something glowed brighter than the wood through the narrow gaps between the planks that made up the wall of the barn. Her horse, maybe?
“Plateau looks clear, sir.”
“You see the girl?” Volkov said.
“I see her horse, sir. And the drones haven’t seen her leave the building. No sign of anyone else.”
“Alpha, Charlie, advance. And be quiet about it. Bravo, find the damn girl, and see if she has friends here.”
Logan glanced behind him. Bairamov and Desoto’s squares on his HUD were moving up the hillside toward him. The rest of the section were spreading out as they clambered toward the edge of the plateau, ready to move in and clear the buildings.
“Sir,” Desoto said, “can’t the drone just put a few missiles in the buildings, and save us the trouble of clearing them?”
“I don’t think Poulin would be very happy about that,” Bairamov replied. “Besides, missiles are expensive.”
Logan pushed himself to his feet, and began to run toward the barn. His metal claws dug into the dirt as he accelerated, then scraped against the ground as he slowed.
Get up. He sees me. Get down. One of the first things Beauchene had drummed into them even in the early tactical training they received back at The Farm. Never stay out of cover long enough for the other guy to shoot back at you.
The suit slid to a stop behind the trunk of a tree outside the village. The tree might not stop a gaussrifle round, but it would hide most of his body from view if anyone was looking that way. And there was nothing better between him and the barn.
He crouched behind the tree, raised his rifle, and studied the buildings ahead of him. Still no sign of life. Nothing moved or made a sound. The village looked as silent and empty as it must have the day the colonists died.
He heard a scraping and thumping as Bairamov hit the dirt behind a rock ten metres to his left, then swung his rifle around it, toward the village. Desoto followed. His feet skidded across the dirt as he tried to stop behind a decaying wooden cart that lay on its side. His suit fell to its knees, and he slammed into the cart. The wood cracked and fell around him as he slid to a stop in the middle of the pile.
“I said quiet,” Volkov said. “What moron did that?”
“Sorry, sir,” Desoto said.
“Next idiot who makes a noise like that is on shit-burning detail for a month.”
The green squares indicating the members of Alpha and Charlie teams lined up in Logan’s HUD as they took cover just below the edge of the plateau. Logan scanned the building again. Still just a big blob visible in IR through the gaps in the walls, and no other sign of life. Nothing showed in the drone’s cameras, except the glow of the suited men around the edge of the plateau, waiting to move in.
“Bravo,” Volkov said, “capture the girl or kill her, whatever works for you. Alpha, move in and clear those buildings. And watch for mines.”
“Desoto, McCoy,” Bairamov said. “Move in. McCoy, be ready with that grenade launcher if there’s trouble.”
Alpha team were moving to Logan’s right. Desoto glanced toward Logan, who stared at the buildings through his rifle scope as Desoto moved closer to the barn, stopping behind a pile of wood that looked like it had once been a shed of some kind. Still no sign of life inside the barn.
Logan pushed himself to his feet, ran to the nearest corner of the barn, then slammed down in the dirt. He peered through a narrow gap between the planks in the wall. Even with the light intensification in the visor, he could see little inside.
The grey blob of the horse showed faintly in the shadows, but no sign of the girl or her lantern. Nor did the suit’s sensors show any sign of weapons or explosives inside. There was nowhere to hide a bomb from the sensors in an inch-thick wooden wall.
“See her?” Desoto said.
“Just the horse.”
Logan rose to a crouch, and approached the doors as Desoto covered him with his rifle. Then he ducked as rifle rounds cracked in the night, breaking the silence that had filled the air beforehand. But they weren’t coming Logan’s way.
“Contact,” someone yelled. A red square appeared on the HUD in a building near the far end of the street. Then another, on the upper floor of a building hidden behind the barn.
“Charlie,” Volkov said, “flank them.”
Charlie team began to move on the HUD, approaching the village. Alpha split up, taking cover along the cross-street. The wooden buildings wouldn’t do anything to stop a rifle round, but they’d conceal the suits behind them. With no muzzle flash from the gaussrifles to give away the shooters’ position, the fight would come down to who saw the others first.
Logan kicked the barn doors. Splinters flew from the wood as his metal foot smashed into the door, and the claws tore into the planks. The lock ripped away under the impact, and the door twisted on its hinges. He kicked it again, and the nails holding the top hinge to the door tore away.
The door twisted further, and the top fell inward, stopping at an angle where the lower hinge still managed to hold it off the ground. Logan stepped up onto the door.
The hinge creaked beneath the weight of his body and suit. Then he crouched as he stepped through the doorway, and jumped down onto the dirt floor of the barn.
The horse whinnied and turned, and wood crunched as the animal backed into one of the poles that supported the roof. Its reins strained as it pulled back, lifting its muzzle toward the pole they were tied around.
“Alice, IR.”
The visor’s image shifted to infrared. The heat of the horse’s body glowed against the wood, but there was no other source of heat in the barn. He looked up, into the roof. The girl wasn’t hiding above him, either. She’d simply disappeared.
“I’m hit,” a voice yelled. One of the HUD squares for Alpha team showed suit damage.
“Stop shooting,” Poulin said. “We need them alive.”
Volkov’s voice sounded like he was torn between laughing and yelling with rage as he spoke. “You heard the mademoiselle. Please try not to kill all of the bastards.”
The shooting continued. Logan crept toward the far side of the barn as Desoto clambered over the door behind him. The final hinge gave way, and the door slammed down onto the dirt floor with a loud crack of torn and broken wood.