The ice-encrusted fuselage was a hundred yards east of the floodplain, where it was hidden in a narrow ravine that the forces of wind, water, and time had cut into the bluff over the centuries. Judging from the dozens of holes in the fuselage, the Suzy Q had been badly shot up as Larson tried to bring the transport in. Capelli figured it had been dark. He could imagine the stomach-wrenching moment when both of the ship’s stubby wings were torn off. But damaging though the blow was, it had slowed the VTOL down, and preserved the hull. It was wedged between two rock walls about fifty feet off the ground.
Capelli was ecstatic. And it wasn’t long before he and a half-dozen other people had scrambled up to the point where they could enter the Suzy Q through an open hatch. Capelli had a flashlight, and as the beam played across the crates that were still strapped to the deck, he saw that the VTOL was loaded with everything from carbines to individually boxed MP-47 Pulse cannons that were sitting on top of the load. It was an extremely rich find, and he was still in the process of inventorying the newly acquired arsenal when something unexpected happened.
The interior lights came on. It took him a moment to process the development. Then he shouted, “Turn the power off!” As the lights went off, he followed the downward-sloping deck to the cockpit, where Tilson was seated next to a raggedy skeleton busily flipping switches.
“You fool!” Capelli said, as he jerked the businessman out of the pilot’s seat. “The moment you drew power from the battery the plane’s nav system came on, and the odds are pretty good that a light appeared on a stink control panel somewhere. If so, they know where we are and you can bet a shitload of the bastards will arrive soon.”
“I’m sorry,” Tilson said lamely. “I didn’t know.”
“Get Bo,” Capelli ordered tersely. “And tell him to hurry.”
The Chimeran drop ship came in from the west. It was all angles. Artificial lightning stabbed the ground as onboard sensors detected heat sources and weapons fired on them. Deer, wild horses, and rabbits died. Pressor beams crushed the water flat as the ominous-looking vessel drifted across the creek. Loose snow billowed into the air, icy pebbles sleeted sideways, and a wave of heat rolled over the land. And it was then, as the ship hovered, and a cloud of steam rose, that Capelli fired the Pulse cannon. He was hidden behind a cluster of snowcapped boulders that fronted the open area west of the crash site.
The bolt of concentrated energy hit the Chimeran vessel a fraction of a second before Bo fired the second cannon. The combination of two nearly simultaneous blasts caused the drop ship’s bow to tilt alarmingly. It hit the ground at a steep angle and plowed a deep furrow into the rocky soil. A grinding crash was heard as the hull lost forward momentum and pancaked in. That was when Capelli swore. The plan had been to destroy the ship, not just damage it. He fired again and saw a flash of light as the bolt hit the hull. But it took a moment for the cannon to recharge, and that was long enough for half a dozen Hybrids to open a hatch and come charging out.
The humans had one thing going for them, however, and that was the element of surprise. As the stinks trotted forward, three Osage warriors rose from their various hiding places to release carefully aimed arrows.
Capelli saw a feathered shaft penetrate a Hybrid’s neck as another arrow took a stink in the thigh. It stumbled and fell. At that point the humans opened up with a wide variety of conventional weapons. The battle might have ended then and there except for the Ravagers who lumbered out of the ship’s hold with more Hybrids right behind them. And because of the powerful energy shields that the eleven-foot-tall monsters carried, they could protect both themselves and the ’brids to the rear.
The humans had two hand-held radios and Capelli spoke into his. “Sixkiller! Get around behind them if you can. We’ll divide their fire.”
The stinks were only yards away by then, and all Capelli could do was trade the Pulse cannon for a Rossmore in hopes of taking as many of the Chimera with him as he could. But Capelli had a guardian angel—and her name was Susan. She was positioned on a rocky ledge above the Suzy Q, firing over the shimmery energy shields. So as a Ravager arrived in front of Capelli he saw the stink’s head jerk spastically. That was followed by an explosion of blood as the bullet blew a hole through the back of the Chimera’s skull.
When the Ravager went down, it left the Hybrids sheltering behind exposed. Capelli was only a dozen feet away. The shotgun had a devastating effect. Projectiles pinged all around him as he fired again and again. A blood mist fogged the air and turned the snow pink as a succession of stinks fell. Some had the misfortune to be hit by both a hail of buckshot and a succession of skillfully aimed bullets from Susan.
As this took place, the warrior Sixkiller and three Osage braves thundered onto the scene. They controlled their mounts with their knees. That left their hands free to fire a variety of weapons. When the second Ravager and its escorts turned to confront the new threat, the humans were free to attack. There was a risk, however, which was why Capelli shouted at them, “Aimed fire only! We have friendlies out there.”
Now, having been caught in crossfire, the aliens were going down one after another. The battle was far from one-sided, however, as a Hybrid jumped an Osage who had paused to reload. The stink left the ground with powerful arms spread wide, wrapped them around the warrior, and was in the process of ripping the human’s throat out when they hit the ground together.
There was blood all over the ’brid’s face as it bounded to its feet and ran straight at Sixkiller. The warrior released his bow to grab the cut-down Winchester Model 37 shotgun slung across his back. He pulled the weapon free, brought it to bear just in time, and jerked the trigger. The charge blew half of the stink’s face away. Sixkiller’s Pinto jerked his head wildly as the coppery smell of blood flooded the horse’s nostrils. What was that, anyway? the warrior asked himself. Number nine or ten? Maybe a name change was in order. Tenkiller had a ring to it.
The voice came from the radio lying on the ground next to Capelli’s right foot. It belonged to Bo. He was a hundred feet away, half concealed in a dry channel. “The ship! It’s taking off.”
As Capelli turned his attention back to the shuttle, he saw that the Osage was correct. He put the Rossmore down and brought the Pulse cannon up onto his right shoulder. The drop ship was a couple of feet off the ground by that time. Steam rose all around it. Once it was high enough, say fifty feet or so, the vessel would be able to fire down on the humans with impunity. So as Capelli pulled the trigger he was conscious of how high the stakes were.
The side hatch was in the process of closing as the bolt of energy passed through the opening and struck somewhere inside. After a flash of light came the partially muffled sound of an explosion. A gout of plasma shot out through the hatch. The ship shook wildly and blew up.
Capelli was flat on his stomach by that time. The shock wave rolled over him, sent small stones skittering east, and flattened a clutch of young trees. Capelli lay there for a moment, stunned by the violence of what had taken place, and gratified to be alive. Then he did a push-up and was in a kneeling position when Bo arrived to pull him up all the way.
“That’ll teach the bastards,” the Osage said grimly. “We sent at least two dozen of them to hell.”
As Capelli looked at the still-smoldering wreckage of the ship and the bodies that lay helter-skelter all around, he saw that Bo was correct. But it wasn’t over yet. There were millions more.