The Thorne Legacy

Thorne cleared his throat.  “We’re not going to die,” he told them.  Knightlinger’s red face relaxed just a little.  Malcolm looked unconvinced. 

“Let’s get what we came for.”  The battle in this area of the base had ended thirty or forty minutes ago.  The trio had snuck from the barracks tower to this vehicle to arm themselves.  Fortunately there were no dead soldiers inside to demoralize them further; the bodies were all out in the street.  “What have we got?” Thorne asked.

The pair had a pile of salvage assembled on what was now the floor of the overturned vehicle.  Malcolm pointed as he spoke: “There were four magrifles still inside, plus there’s more outside we can pick up.  Nine autopistols, lots of ammo.  Looks like they didn’t bother with pistols,” he said, referring to the squad of dead System Guard soldiers.  “Thirty 35mm grenades of various payloads, two hellstorm grenade launchers, plus six of the smaller rifle-mounted ones.  And there’s more stuff outside.”  With the dead was omitted from the end of that sentence.

The corporal shook his head.  “There’s no point in trying to take more than we can carry.”  He thought about how the battles they’d seen from the roof had gone: these weapons were all but useless against the monsters.  The magnetically-hurled projectiles that might normally punch through human-worn body armor deflected harmlessly off of the giant crabs’ shiny black shells.  Soldiers were either struck down or torn in half by the huge claws of the beasts.  Thorne had no intention of getting that close.  “We’ll each take a magrifle and a pistol, and fit our rifles with mini-launchers.  Knightlinger and myself will take the hellstorms.  You strike me as being the trigger-happy sort, Malcolm.  I don’t want you popping off all our grenades at the first sign of trouble.”

Once armed, they peered through the view slits along the hold.  All seemed clear, though they couldn’t see through the overturned undercarriage, which faced west.  They listened to the call of weapons and screams in the distance, and their own pounding hearts.  Convinced of their relative safety, Corporal Thorne led his men into the open street.

There were several bodies there in front of the barracks.  The boys tried not to look at them, their heads swiveling in every direction but down.  Thorne looked westward first, into their previous blind spot.  Destruction stretched out against the broken skyline.  The wreckage of a downed Night Hawk fighter craft burned a few blocks away, giving off thick smoke.  Another barracks tower smoldered from blackened windows.  The collective smoke of all fires rose to mingle with the artificial haze that shrouded them from the sun.  Bodies littered the street.  Had there been any warning at all? he wondered.  He thought of his father, probably still en route and leading nearly all of Giger’s ships to the far side of the system.  This had been a set-up.  These creatures may look like overgrown beach crabs but they were cunning, strong, and malicious.  Thorne felt a cold gripping his heart.  Hopelessness was right there, so easy to accept. 

He turned back to his men.  Knightlinger’s lips were quivering.  He scratched at his reddening face.  Malcolm was rubbing his eyes, itching or pushing back tears, Thorne couldn’t tell. 

“We go for the headquarters building and join whoever’s there,” Thorne commanded.  “That’ll be the last bastion.”  Knightlinger, he knew, wanted to help his fellow soldiers.  Malcolm wanted safety.  The corporal wanted both.  This was the right course for all. 

They moved quickly along the side of the barracks tower and then down an alley.  Thorne had a history of getting around base out of sight.  He knew all the back alleys, where all the proverbial slack chains and crinkled fences were.  Of course, he also depended heavily on having the right friends on duty at the right times.  All of his drinking buddies would be fighting now, and with his privileges suspended his own electronic access would be very limited.  He started mentally mapping a course with minimum obstacles.