Indeed, there was a smoking hole in the overplating of the hip area of the suit, exposing underpart beneath.

"Yes," said Grant. "The underplating of this armor is designed to withstand severe concussions. Still, you're probably right about that hip. You're going to need some help."

He helped her up. "Yeah. Thanks." She cringed. "I'll make it."

"Good."

"Looks like you did a number on Henrikson there. Surprised you didn't take his rifle and blast him."

"Don't think the thought didn't enter my mind. No, if we can get him back, I'll be able to use him to string MedTech up by its dangling prescriptions."

"Sounds good. We go now?"

"We go."

 

They revived Henrikson with a few slaps across the chops, and then they made sure that he knew which direction their rifles were pointing.

Grant propped Kozlowski up on the sideboard of the drone. She could walk, sort of, but he figured he'd better save that for later.

The suit was getting too heavy for him, so he took off the top.

"Helmets?" she said.

"Forget the helmets. We've got enough weight to slow us down as it is."

"At least stick them up here on the drone, dammit."

"Yes, sir."

He had Henrikson do that. The traitorous corporal performed the task grudgingly, without comment.

"The creatures should be miles from here," said Grant.

They started trudging back the way they'd come, with him keeping a bead on Henrikson while Kozlowski controlled the cargo drone.

They were just at the tunnel opening at the end of the chamber when they heard the rumbling.

"What the hell ..." said Henrikson, looking behind. "It's coming from that other tunnel, on the opposite end of the chamber."

"Oh, shit," said Kozlowski.

Grant watched, disbelieving, as an alien ran into view in the dimly illuminated distance.

Followed by another.

Followed by three ... four ...

A clot of the monsters burst out of the tunnel.

"They must be coming back through another entrance!" said Kozlowski. "They must have sensed the death of their queen, dammit, and started to head back."

"And took a short cut! Well, let's get amove on here. I—"

He'd taken his attention off of Henrikson for one moment—one short moment!—and had been rewarded by the big man, big time.

Henrikson's body plowed into his, knocking Grant down, bashing the rifle from his hands. It clunked down beside him, and Grant grabbed it up again.

Henrikson jumped on top of him and they wrestled for the gun. They were on the other side of the cargo drone, away from any chance of Colonel Kozlowski interceding immediately.

"For chrissake, you asshole," said Grant. "They're almost on top of us."

"I'm gonna make it out of here, Grant," said the big man. "I'm going to be the only one who does."

As they struggled, the bottle of Xeno-Zip fell out of Grant's pocket, cracking open on the alien floor beside him, spilling its contents.

Henrikson was distracted.

Grant used it.

He wrenched the rifle away from the man's hands and whacked the butt across the man's chin.

Stunned, the man fell back.

Kozlowski was limping around at that point, holding a rifle. "Stand back, Grant. I'm going to kill him!" she said, nostrils flaring with anger.

Grant took a look at the groaning Henrikson and the fallen bottle of Xeno-Zip and then at the approaching aliens.

"No," he said. "I've got a better idea."

He scooped up a handful of the pills, and he stuffed them into Henrikson's mouth, holding his hands over the man's lips so he was forced to automatically swallow them.

"Get yourself on the front of that drone, and let's get the hell out of here," he said.

"What ... ?"

"Let's just say that it's a far, far nobler thing that Corporal Henrikson is going to do today than he's ever done before."

Grant put the rifle down between the Corporal's arms and then he grabbed Kozlowski's arm and helped her over to the lander.

 

The man's eyes popped open.

Inside he felt as though an atom bomb had just gone off in his brain.

He rolled his head, and saw, just meters away, a horde of charging, hissing aliens.

In his arms was a rifle.

Fire raged through his bloodstream and nervous system. He felt the familiar flight-or-fight response, only flight didn't seem necessary.

Henrikson, after all, was God!

And in his hands was a fistful of lightning bolts.

Grinning, he got up as the aliens approached.

"C'mon, you bastards!" he screamed. "Let's play!"

He'd kill them all.

Then he'd go back up and nail that bastard Grant and that bitch Kozlowski.

Yeah!

The gun in his hand started blazing.

 

Something was going on down there. Something huge. The motion detectors were going nuts in Private Mahone's hands. And her own internal warning system, her instincts, told her that it was danger, pure and simple.

"Cripes," said Private Dicer, his eyes bulging, a tic working at his mouth. "I can even feel it in my feet!"

Sweat had broken out on the brow of Private Clapton. "Shit, man. What are we going to do?"

"Colonel says if they're not back, we should cut and run. I say we obey orders."

Every cell in Mahone's body agreed. She wanted to run and hide. She was exhausted in every respect but for the terror that had filled her from the very first. This mission was worse than she'd ever imagined.

Something deep inside her though surged up. Something strong inside of her took ahold of her, and she realized that it was as much her as her fear.

"No."

"Saywhat?" said Clapton.

The rumbling was building.

"Shit, Private, those idiots down there are probably getting torn to pieces. We wait here, and that's just what's going to happen to us," said Dicer.

Dicer started moving away toward the exit, eyes rolling with terror. Clapton started following him.

"You assholes move one more step, I'm going to blast you," she said.

Dicer kept moving and she put a blast a yard short of him, and then aimed in a fashion that they well knew could take them both out with a simple tug of the trigger.

"Jeez, Mahone? Are you crazy? Our asses are in a sling here!" whined Clapton.

"Well then rock in 'em, guys. We're going to stay right here and give aid and succor." Her eyes blazed. "And you know what! I've half a mind to go in after the others."

"You're nuts!"

"I'm looking at my watch here. We've got a good ten minutes to wait this out. I'm just following orders." She grinned. "Just doing my job."

Sweating and fidgeting, the others stopped.

Private Mahone smiled to herself. She was getting something out of this crazy jellybean hunt. She was getting her soul back.

She just hoped she was going to have a future to use it in.

 

"What happened?" said Mahone. "What the hell's going on down there?"

The three soldiers were still waiting for them patiently where Kozlowski had placed them. Seeing them there was a great relief, a testament to her ability to judge people.

"No time to explain," said Grant. "We've just got to getout of here. There's a batch of aliens coming up through the tunnel."

That was all it took.

The cargo van kept going, rolling along with a few more guards.

Behind them, she could still hear the echoes of Henrikson's blazing gun.

Then it stopped, and there was a shriek the likes of which she'd never heard before.

"If we're lucky, enough of the dead things piled up that they're going to have to clear them out first," said Grant. "C'mon, can't we get this beast to move faster?"

"It's flat out," she said.

Running speed. It would have to do.