Lawson looked from Watson to Staniszak before looking at the ground. “No,” he mumbled.
“I didn’t think so. Our mission hasn’t changed. We need to get the Doc to safety so we can figure out what in the hell is going on.”
Doc Staniszak peeked in the wrecked C-17. “Holy shit.” She turned toward Watkins. “You do that?”
Watkins leaned against the wheel well and nodded. He grabbed his weapon and eyed Lawson. While he understood his intentions were noble, or at least he was giving him the benefit of the doubt, it didn’t change the fact that that son of a bitch had just tried to shoot him.
“Whatcha got?” Chen asked.
“He killed a technophile all by himself.”
Chen turned toward Lawson and said, “And you wanted to shoot him. Dumb ass.”
Lawson stormed off toward the tree line grumbling. He turned like he wanted to say something but didn’t.
“What’s with him?” Watkins asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, it might have something to do with the fact that he had to shoot his friend in the face a few days ago. Lawson's never been the most sociable guy to begin with. Throw some freaky alien worms who take over people’s brains and you can respect his crankiness.”
Watkins grabbed his ribs. “We’ve all seen some freaky shit. Doesn’t give anyone the right to fly off the handle like that. I thought he was supposed to be trained for high-stress situations?”
“He is,” Chen said, his tone darkening. “Most of us Spec Ops guys don’t get many days off. We get orders and we go. No questions asked. We literally live for this.”
“Sorry,” Watkins offered. He understood the life of a soldier. He'd watched a friend forced to serve six months longer than his enlistment due to 9/11. The brass called it stop loss. Watkins called it bullshit.
A gunshot rang out from the direction Lawson had taken.
“Stay here with the Doc and get ready to go. I’ll be back in two minutes.” Chen didn’t wait for an answer and took off for the tree line.
Watkins tossed Staniszak the keys. “Fire the Humvee up. I’m going to make sure their way back stays clear.”
Staniszak caught the keys. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Watkins cracked a smile as she walked through the cracked fuselage. He focused on the tree line, finger on the trigger. From inside he heard the Humvee’s engine turn over and chug to life. Staniszak eased the vehicle out through the already open cargo door of the crashed airplane and waited.
True to his word, Chen came tearing through the tree line after two minutes, Lawson and an injured Delta Force soldier a short distance behind.
“Get in the Humvee,” Chen shouted, hopping over a downed tree. He was moving fast. “We’ve got company.”
As the three soldiers neared the wreck, a static hiss cut through the mountain dusk. A chorus of screeches seemed to answer the call.
Chen skidded to a stop after reaching Watkins. He raised his weapon and fired into the tree line. Watkins jaw dropped when he saw three screamers come tearing into the clearing. Right behind them were half a dozen ironhides carrying assault rifles, followed by two technophiles.
Lawson pulled up. He turned and shot, providing covering fire for the injured Delta Force soldier who was running with a limp, blood leaking from a bullet hole in his thigh.
One of the technophiles spit static and as one, all six ironhides fired. Lawson took a bullet in the shoulder but held his ground. The Delta Force soldier wasn’t as lucky. The first bullet ripped through his midsection while the second went clean through his good thigh, sending him sprawling. Chen fired on the screamers. He put a bullet through the fastest one’s brain and just as quickly took out another. The third plowed into Lawson sending him tumbling over a stump.
Watkins fired at the line of ironhides. Bullets hit metal and ricocheted away. He got lucky and struck one in the chest and it fell. Without a fresh clip, he tossed his useless weapon aside and ran for the injured Delta Force guy.
One of the technophiles opened its mouth. An electric blue glow, faint at first, shone from its throat. A rumbling noise came from its chest. It reminded Watkins of a jet engine powering up.
“Take that glowing bastard out,” Chen shouted. “He’s trying to fry the Humvee.”
Watkins remembered the blue flash that hit the C-17 right before they lost power. He could hardly believe what used to be a man could be capable of such things. He could hardly believe anything anymore.
The blue glow intensified as the sound raced faster from within the technophile.
Chen was yelling but Watkins didn’t hear what he said. The Delta Force guy was on his back firing into the thick of the worm-controlled freaks. A bullet tore through the glowing technophile’s calf and it fell to a knee. The blue glow abruptly stopped.
The ironhides fired back.
Watkins danced around as chunks of ground erupted from the hail of gunfire. Someone yelled that they were reloading. An ironhide fell, blood squirting from its neck. Lawson was running toward the Humvee. Watkins slid down next to the injured Delta Force soldier. “Time to go.”
The guy didn’t answer.
Watkins checked for a pulse, couldn’t find one.
Lawson, limping now, hobbled closer, his weapon gone. Watkins hurried to him, placed an arm around his waist and aided his retreat. Chen continued firing. “Last mag,” he yelled, slamming the cartridge into place.
The ironhides had tossed their weapons aside. Instead of running, they walked briskly toward the survivors, jagged metal tearing into their flesh. Maybe all the metal prevented them from running.
“Move your asses,” Chen shouted. One of his bullets struck an exposed head. Worms wriggled around under the freak’s scalp until bursting through his skull. Chen moved with ease over a downed tree, doing his best to cover them.
Staniszak leaned on the horn.
Through gritted teeth Watkins pulled Lawson along, ignoring the pain burning like lava under his skin. He’d be damned if he’d die in the middle of nowhere, his brain food for the worms.
Chen was at his side then and together the two of them pulled Lawson into the Humvee. The uninjured technophile spoke statically to the ironhides who immediately retreated. They ran to the aid of the injured technophile, two of them carrying it toward the downed aircraft.
As Staniszak weaved through the trees, night fell over the Adirondacks like a lid on a coffin. Watkins leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment.
Lawson tapped him. “Thanks for the assist.”
“Together, or not at all, remember?”
Lawson nodded, cracked a smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
Staniszak slammed on the brakes, swerving around two screamers in fluorescent-orange hunting vests. She threw the Humvee in reverse.
“Hit those sons of bitches,” Chen said.
“Hold on.” Staniszak slammed the Humvee in drive and plowed into the freaks. One flipped over the hood and landed with a crunch on the already cracked windshield, the glass giving way. The Humvee rose and fell as it passed over the second screamer.
Chen grabbed the screamer and struggled to force it back out. Staniszak slammed on the brakes and it flew forward as the vehicle stopped. Chen pushed, sending it onto the hood. Staniszak pressed down on the accelerator, swerving before the screamer could recover. It slid over the side of the Humvee and into the night.
“Wait!” A helmetless soldier in standard camouflage came running like a bat out of hell from the woods. He looked over his shoulder as he ran. “More crazies behind me.”
Watkins opened the door and the Delta Force soldier hopped in. It was Haley. Staniszak hit the accelerator and the Humvee shot forward as about a dozen sets of electric-blue glowing eyes raced into view.