Tevun-Krus #81 - DesertPunk

Guns and Guys - A Short Story by @elveloy

 Author's Note - Written for the third round of the UWSC senior's challenge.

Guns and Guys

Knives are for Pros

"Guns are for show. Knives are for pros." Logan murmured his C.O's favourite saying as he fingered the knife in his hand. Then he swore. Fuck that! The fucking bastards had a motherfucking rocket launcher! Shit!

He slithered backwards in a hurry, out of sight behind the red dusty rampart, catching a small avalanche of sand in his boots. Logan lay on his back for a moment, looking up at the pale bluish sky, trying to think. Jones had fucked up on the intel. The Venusians weren't supposed to have rocket launchers. In fact, no-one was supposed to have any high-powered weapons at all, let alone rocket launchers on Mars, it would be all too easy for something to go horribly wrong. He shivered at the thought. One badly aimed missile and the whole delicate dome above them would be breached, the precious oxygen sucked out into space, the fragile ecology set back decades, if not more.

Mars was a fledgling colony, only two thousand people living beneath the dome, most of them scientists and farmers. Their job, to carefully clone and cultivate the plants that would take hold and thrive, eventually providing an atmosphere for more than the small area under the dome. Despite initial success, the process was expected to take years. There was no way they were ready yet for unrestricted colonisation, but the Venusians hadn't waited.

Venus colony was failing, the intense heat finally too much even for the advanced technology that Earth had developed specifically for its nearest neighbour. And instead of going back to overcrowded Earth, a bunch of Venusians had decided to take over Mars. Whether the Martians wanted them there or not.

They had come armed and swept through the small colony like a pack of wolves amongst sheep. They had caught the Martians totally unprepared for an invasion and had met little resistance. Few of the colonists had any military background and in any case it was hard to pit hands and pocket knives against automatic weapons despite what anyone said.

Camelli's men had been the exception. Each of them came from an Earth service background before making the move to Mars and in such a small colony they had soon gravitated towards each other. As the Constable, Camelli was the only one with an official position but they often hung out together in their spare time, running mock engagements for the sheer fun of it.

As soon as he realised what was happening, Camelli had slipped out of town and contacted his unofficial team, arranging to meet them in one of the hydroponic farms.

"It'll be a piece of cake," Logan remembered Camelli saying only a few hours ago when the five of them had set out on this mission. "They're not expecting trouble, they think they've won. Disable the guards and we can walk in and just take control of the plant. Once we command the electro-converter, we'll be the ones calling the shots."

Now they were out here in the Martian desert, trying to take back the planet, preferably before the Venusians destroyed it with their fucking extreme weapons.

EEeeee! The high pitched scream of a rocket launcher tore through his head. He could see the puff of red dust billowing up into the air to his right. Fuck! That was where Jones was supposed to be. Had they got him? He poked his head up just a fraction above the rampart, got his bearings then ducked down just in time as a rifle shot parted the hair on his head. Logan licked his lips. Rifles and a rocket launcher! What chance did they have?

Any sensible man would surrender at this point. Logan grinned. He didn't think he'd ever been a sensible man. If someone was stupid enough to get in his face, he'd get right back in theirs. He couldn't help it. He started off in the direction of the last place he had seen Jones, crouching as low as possible to keep below the rampart.

Jones had had the only decent weapon amongst them, a Colt he had managed to slip in through customs and quarantine as an antique. He had to get to him, maybe the rocket had missed, and if it hadn't, maybe his weapon was still usable.

Logan heard another rifle shot and ducked reflexively, but this one wasn't aimed at him. Then a second shot. He cursed. Camelli, Ford and Jorge were still out there somewhere. He gritted his teeth, he hoped the motherfuckers had missed but he couldn't do anything about it, all he could do was put his head down and get to Jones as fast as possible.

Camelli was sweating as he tied a strip of his shirt over the bleeding wound in his arm. It hurt like the devil but by god he'd been lucky. A fraction nearer and instead of a graze he would be missing an arm, or worse. He could see the unmoving form of Tom Jorge lying crumpled on the sand about sixty meters away, and swore that somebody was going to pay for that. He sat for a moment, his back braced against the side of the electro plant as he got his breath back. He had to keep moving, if one of the Venusians came outside he would be a sitting target.

He had made it to the rear of the electroplant. He scanned the wall in front of him, seeking an entrance, hoping to get inside where he could use his knife. He thought he could still throw a knife, despite his arm.

He knew there were at least three of them inside, two with the rocket launcher and one with the rifle. But there could be more. He stood up and put his hand ever so lightly on the small door, all he needed now was a distraction at the front of the building, something to keep the Venusians busy. He heard the rifle crack again, and pushed open the door.

Logan finally reached the spot where he had last seen Jones. He couldn't help himself, he doubled over and threw up. Bits of Jones were scattered over the sand, the scarlet red of blood bright against the rusty red of Mars. He wiped his mouth and pulled himself together, time enough for that later. Right now he needed to concentrate on finding the Colt. Finally something went right, he could see the hint of silver gleaming up at him, half buried in the sand.

Logan held the weapon snugly in his hand as he squinted at the plant, estimating the distance. Just over a hundred metres he guessed. If only one of the team was left to provide a distraction, he thought he could get a bead on the men holding the rocket launcher.

As if on cue, he heard a yell from inside the building. As fast as a snake, he stood up straight and fired a burst from the colt into the opening where he could see the mouth of the rocket launcher. Then he ran, zigzagging across the sand, heading towards the electroplant.

Camelli got one of them with his knife before they shot him.

Logan had never run so fast in his life. He couldn't see whether he had hit anyone inside the plant but the rocket launcher was silent so maybe he had. With a final lunge he threw himself right though the window, knocking the launcher to one side and came to his feet still holding the Colt. Scanning the room, he saw one of the Venusians on the floor with his face blown off and another staring at him in shocked disbelief, gripping his bleeding shoulder. Without hesitating he fired again, then stepped over the body to check out the rest of the plant.

He had no idea how many rounds were in the Colt so he took out his knife, just in case.