Page 105 of Monsters within Men
There were twenty-nine other soldiers with him in this graveyard, but he’d be able to pick out any of his squad in a group of thousands.
Of course it was him.
Zeke.
Noah was forever destined to lose everyone he ever loved.
Brodie called for assistance through the comms for the second time, his shouts ringing in Noah’s ear.
He was closest to Brodie.
Ithadto be Brodie.
The commitment he’d made when he took the CO position. His promise to Habib that the squad would always come first. The knowledge he wouldn’t ever be able to forgive himself.
He closed the distance between himself and the struggling soldier.
The types were so fixated on Brodie that Noah held the advantage—he took down three with his rifle as Brodie slashed the necks of two more with his dagger. A spray of dark blood coated Brodie’s helmet as the types fell to the floor, twitching.
“Thanks LT,” he said, panting.
But Noah turned away from him without replying, already moving in the other direction now that Brodie was safe. He flew towards Zeke, stumbling over tree roots, uneven ground and tombstones as he barrelled towards him like his life depended on it. Because Zeke’s life did.
He could only watch as Zeke reached Wolf far before he would get to them, raising his rifle at a type that rushed towards him. He missed, stumbling backwards to give himself time to aim again. Even from a distance, the shake in Zeke’s rifle was evident.
Please, please, please, please.
Zeke’s bullet exploded from his rifle with a bang, and the type went down.
Noah was almost there. He was so close—
The other three types were on Zeke before he had time to react. He hit one on the head with the butt of his rifle—yes!—before sprinting off, the types mere inches behind him. Wolf joined the chase, nipping at the legs of the types and dodging out of the way when they lunged for him.
Zeke ran and ran and then… disappeared into the darkness. The types stopped chasing him, falling to the floor.
Noah, just five strides away now, blinked. Were the types… clawing at the ground? “Zeke?” he shouted.
A panicked shrieking sound reverberated through him. But where was it coming from?
Distracted by Zeke’s voice, Noah flew off his feet as something shoved him to the ground, a heavy weight pushing him into the earth. His wrist flew back to collide with unyielding stone, resulting in a sharpcrack. His father’s watch! But this was no time for sentimentality. Angry, desperate claws scraped at his torso as the smell of rotting flesh assaulted his nostrils.
“Wolf!” he shouted, as he thrashed in the slick mud, trying and failing to shake the type off him.
A snarl to his left, followed by a bark. Noah felt the heavy weight of the type slip down his body as Wolf dragged the beast off him.
He jumped to his feet. Wolf’s jaws were fully clamped around the typeB’s leg, allowing Noah to take great satisfaction in shooting a round through its head. The two types that remained leapt towards them. Wolf dispatched one by tearing half its neck out, and Noah finished the remaining typeB with his dagger—his ammo supply was dwindling. One smooth, gurgling slice of his knife through its stomach saw the type falling lifeless within moments. He grimaced as its entrails splashed onto the ground with a sickening squelch.
“Help!” came a weak voice, a stone’s throw away. Wolf darted over to it.
And there Zeke was, at the bottom of a rectangular burial pit. Should Noah laugh or cry?
“Holy mother of—”
“I can’t get out! The mud is too wet. I can’t grip on anything.”
Noah darted his eyes around to check there were no more incoming surprises. Most soldiers were now standing around in groups, rifles still at the ready but postures relaxed.
The onslaught was over, for now.
