Halo_ Evolutions - Essential Tales of the Halo Universe - Eric Nylund [113]
Lopez took a step back, and another, and draped an arm over Smith’s shoulders. She pulled him companionably close, seemingly oblivious to the way the muzzle of her rifle drifted back and forth across his face.
“John,” she said. “Can I call you John?”
He leaned away. Not from her, no. From the bodies, the bits of bodies she was dragging him near. He really was a little man. There wasn’t much muscle on him.
“I think you know what this is.”
Smith glanced at each of them again, assessing them again. Seeing no escape.
“And I think you’re going to damn well tell me what this is.”
>Benti 1502 hours
As Benti grimly fired and fired, rifle hot in her hands, she had one small satisfaction: no room to miss, no distance to interfere with accuracy. The first figure jumped and spun with the concentrated fire from the five of them, falling back into the second and third, who didn’t pause. They just shoved their comrade aside, climbing over each other to get through the gap. They tripped and stumbled too as they pushed their way into the line of fire, even as the first was, oh god, Benti could make out the first thrashing its way back up. She knew she’d dropped a good line of hot lead straight in its belly, but it was getting back up.
Clarence threw another flare.
Most were human, some were actually Covenant. All of them so misshapen and shambly you could hardly tell. Branching fungi tumbled and poured from their limbs. Their eyes were glazed and vacant. The stink of them overpowered the shit smell. There was a low mumble coming from them, almost in concert, that unnerved Benti.
“They’re not staying down!” Gersten yelled. “Reloading!” Popped a clip and slapped in a new one as Orlav covered his zone. “What the hell are they?”
She concentrated her fire on the frontmost, and it dropped, and she shifted her aim to the next, and oh god, it was getting to its feet too, and she saw shoes on those feet, slippers, and a distinctive orange color.
They’d found the prisoners, and apparently they didn’t like the bilges, either.
Tsardikos wasn’t even firing. Just watching, mouth open. Benti elbowed him in the thigh. “Snap out of it, soldier!” she screamed at him. And he did. Miraculously. Started firing again.
Still, there was no way they could hold this position. No way.
“Fall back to the maintenance room!” Benti rose from her crouch, sliding up against Clarence, who stepped back, and she with him, moving like practiced dance partners.
“We lose this spot, they’re going to swamp us!” Orlav shouted.
“We stay here, they’ll swamp us sooner!” Benti shouted back.
The flares showed a swarm of pale globes, like living snotbags, scuttling up the ceiling from behind the shambling mob, toward them.
The passageway behind them was an unknown quantity. No time to look at the map. No telling what they’d find there.
No avoiding that. No time for caution.
She yanked a grenade from her belt, ripping the pin out in the same motion. “No more jabber! Get going!”
A raised eyebrow from Clarence, a look of panic from Gersten.
She tossed it as they broke and ran.
Not far enough.
The force of it slammed into her, slammed through her, throwing her forward into Clarence. Her bones shrieked in protest. All the air fled her lungs. She rolled over the top of Clarence, heat at her back and then on her face.
None of that mattered.
“Keep moving!” she screamed, before she’d even opened her eyes, crawling to her knees. Don’t ever stop moving. Unless you want to die.
Her ears rang like wineglasses. She couldn’t hear anything, hardly could see anything. Slapped a hand on Clarence’s helmet as he pushed himself from the floor. Cast about, Orlav and Gersten scrambling to their feet. Where was Tsardikos?
Aftershock: A wash of warm water came tumbling down the passageway and swept her legs out from under her just as she’d gotten all the way up. It was murky, it was rank, and swept along with it was one of them, flailing and thrashing,