The Void

CHAPTER 36

Sam Reid bullocked through the strange growths as all around them the dense fog was alive with sound and movement.

It’s like some sort of weird alien jungle, and it’s growing. Out in the speckled air things called, squealed and buzzed in a mockery of a real jungle, and each of the noises was strangely similar to something earthly but then foreign enough to not be identifiable.

One of the long bugs from the Orlando cockpit window alighted on Sam’s shoulder, and before it had a chance to stab at him with its stinger, he reached up with an armored-gloved hand, grabbed it and squeezed. Green mush burst from each end, before he threw it to the mud.

He briefly looked down to where it had landed, but already the weird slime had closed over it, sucking it down and swallowing it completely.

If we fall, there won’t be a need for a burial here.

The HAWCs were a wall on either side of the remaining civilians, and he and the other soldiers fired at things big and small that tried to take a run at them. The RG3s made a soft spitting sound and in return, there came screams that could not possibly have come from human mouths.

Sam never saw the things clearly, and frankly, he didn’t want to. One thing he knew for sure, there was no way he was going to end up like Steve Knight, peeled from his armored suit and devoured right down to bones.

The constant zumm of insects grew louder, and things flitted overhead, darting in and out of the soupy air, perhaps attracted by the sound, movement, or their body heat. Some of them were the revolting bugs from the Orlando shuttle, but others were the size of small dogs and looked assembled from overlapping plates, spikes, and too many eyes.

Underfoot things crunched like seashells and he remembered what Morag had said about the giant roach and imagined that if he left a foot on the ground for too long something with sharp, bristling claws would latch onto it. He lifted his feet a little higher as he charged onward.

Around them, towering columns rose where he was sure there had been none before, and they loomed from the fog like silent sentinels, dripping with the slime, but now also wriggling with life, as though under the coating of mucus. There were countless worms moving up and down their trunks. Or perhaps they were internal organs, drinking or digesting, or excreting strange materials they feed upon.

He glanced at one of them a moment longer, and he was sure a single grapefruit-sized eye opened stickily on the trunk. It was milky white, and it watched them pass by before the entire column leaned after them, like a revolting finger trying to touch them.

Sam put his head down, trying to focus; the trunk-like finger things were all around them — hands — that’s what they were. Wanting to grab at them as if the entire disgusting mess was trying to stop them from leaving.

Then, it was like they had fallen into a vacuum — there was no more sound or movement, and immediately Sam sensed danger. Behind him, Alex Hunter roared a furious warning. Then they were hit.

Sam swung his rifle around, but something big came out of the mist like a freight train and took him out of the line. He felt weightless as he flew through the air, landing in the slime.

Huge bodies came from both sides, moving so fast that they seemed to defy physics. Each of the HAWCs was smashed, and he saw Morag dive to the mud, roll and then grab at Anne who was down with her hands up over her head. They huddled together on the ground.

Sam launched himself back to his feet, engaged his shield and backhanded one of the massive beasts who should’ve been knocked a dozen feet, but instead just skidded backwards and then immediately came at him again, loping on all fours to gather speed, before rising on two and then leaping at him.

The hugely powerful HAWC with the power-assisted MECH armor took it head on, but was no match for the size and strength of the thing. They went down together, locked in a death roll.

Right beside them, Franks cursed as another of the massive bipeds ripped at her weapon, tearing it from her grip and pulverizing it in massive clawed hands. That elicited more curses, followed by her pulling a long, dark blade and swinging with all her upper-body strength to bury it hilt-deep into the meat of the thing’s neck. It screamed and pulled back, and then dragged at the knife in its flesh.

Chaos ruled, black blood spurted, and the nightmarish noise was near deafening — Sam felt they were in hell.

Morag spun about. “Where’s Russell?” Anne had her head down so Morag shook her and repeated the question at a shout. This time Anne just jerked her head and tried to crawl further under Morag’s arm.

Morag started to drag Anne away from the fray when she suddenly felt huge hands grab her shoulders, and she was lifted and then flung away like she weighed nothing. Even as she tumbled through the air, she saw Anne being seized by another creature.

Morag hit the ground and slid, but was immediately caught by the back of her suit and pulled through the slime. She glanced up, knowing what she would see, but was still terrified by what was there — the thing that had her was a monstrosity from a madman’s nightmare. She fought at it, remembering when they found the missing HAWC’s helmet, bloody and broken open like a fruit — she didn’t want to end up like that.

She pummeled at the hand, but her knuckles bounced off plating that felt like hard plastic. The thing looked down, and multiple eyes regarded her dispassionately. Its mouth worked feverishly with tiny arms and feelers on each side that opened and closed like some sort of crab.

Morag screamed. In turn there came grunts, clicks, and a sound like a whistle, and then the attack on the HAWCs was abandoned. She knew why — they had what they wanted — her and Anne.