Bitter Harvest (Harvest Trilogy, Book 2) (28 page)

That made Jack wonder about the level of cooperation shared by the creatures. The old ones certainly worked well enough toward a common goal, although they typically operated as individuals. Then again, there had been so few of them that outside of very special circumstances, such as the attack on the seed vault on Spitsbergen or the final arrangements for shipping the New Horizons seed, gathering on any regular basis would probably have disrupted their many operations.

The ones here, however, had enough cognitive capability to set an ambush for a modern military force, and judging from the growing volume of fire from the airborne soldiers did not share the problem of scarcity.
 

While Kuybishev’s men were terrified, they didn’t break discipline. As they dashed into the expanding defensive circle, their officers and NCOs got them under control, prepared them to fight back.
 

The colonel shouted an order, which Mikhailov translated for Jack. “Lights!”

Hundreds of tactical lights, most of them attached to the men’s weapons, flicked on, stabbing outward from the defensive circle like spokes on a wheel.
 

Men were still coming out of the dark, sometimes diving over the heads of their comrades, who opened fire on the sinister shapes that pursued them.

It was then that Jack had a terrible thought. Leaving Mikhailov and Rudenko, he ran the short distance to where Kuybishev stood, watching the progress of the battle.
 

“Colonel! We’ve got to make sure the men coming in are really human!”

Kuybishev looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “What else would they be?”

“Sir, remember! These things are perfect mimics. They can change their appearance to anything that’s about the same physical size. Out there, in the dark, they could kill a man and replace him.”

Without a moment’s thought, Kuybishev unslung a rifle from his shoulder. It was one of the weapons fitted with a thermal imager. “Soldier who had this is dead. You use it. Find and kill any that get inside.”

Jack wasn’t sure he wanted the responsibility that Kuybishev was thrusting upon him. He reached out and took the rifle. There had been two such weapons. “Where’s the other one?”

Kuybishev shook his head. “I do not know. Ten, maybe fifteen men killed by those small things on ground. That soldier was one. More will die. Go now.”

Returning to where Rudenko was standing guard over Mikhailov, Jack told the big NCO, “I’m going to need you for this. Mikhailov, watch your ass, and keep an eye on the goddamn ground so none of those little bastards sneak up on you.”

Rudenko paused, uncertain.

“Go, you fool!” Mikhailov pushed him away. “I will be fine.”

“
Da, kapitan
.”

As Jack and Rudenko moved off toward the perimeter, Jack cursed. “I wish I could put this sight on my shotgun. This rifle isn’t going to be worth shit without tracers or Dragon’s Breath.”

“Let me see it.”

Jack handed the rifle to Rudenko, who undid some quick releases on the scope, then attached it to Jack’s shotgun before slinging the assault rifle on his back. “Joys of, what do you say, standards, yes?”

Pulling the shotgun in tight to his shoulder and peering through the sight, Jack told him, “Damn straight.”

The world that greeted his eye was alien, unnerving. Everything was in shades of gray, with warmer objects and surfaces, like the faces and hands of the men, appearing almost white, while cooler surfaces appeared in differing shades of darker gray. The muzzle flashes were stark white spears of flame that stabbed out into the killing zone around them, accompanied by deafening staccato
cracks
. “I don’t see any here.”
 

The two men turned at a sudden scream from their left. Looking through the sight, Jack saw that one of the men nearby was clutching at his shoulder. Like most of the soldiers, he had taken a prone position in the mud so he could aim better, and one of the larval harvesters had attacked him.
 

Jack cursed as he compared the gray tone of the harvester with that of the ground. It was a near-perfect match. He wouldn’t be able to pick them out of the clutter to shoot them.

Rudenko grabbed the man by his desperately kicking feet and pulled him back from the defensive line. He was thrashing uncontrollably, his hands already trapped in the harvester’s pulsing flesh after he’d tried to tear it off.

The soldier managed to get one of his feet free from Rudenko’s grasp and lashed out, knocking Rudenko to the ground. “Shoot him!”

For a moment, Jack stood rooted to the ground, paralyzed. He’d killed before, certainly, but he’d never killed a man in cold blood.
 

There’s no hope for him
, Jack told himself. In his mind it was a cold voice, a dead voice, and Jack wondered if someday someone might not say the same for him.
 

Raising the shotgun, he aimed at the darker, cooler mass of the harvester larva on his shoulder and pulled the trigger.

The thermal sight blanked out for a moment in the white glare of the Dragon’s Breath, and the man’s screams ended with sudden finality as the harvester spreading up his chest and neck exploded into flames.

Turning the sight away from the dead soldier, Jack scanned the others around him. “It looks like this area’s clear. Wait.” He saw something in the shape of a man, but whose “face” was distinctly cooler, darker in the thermal imager, than those around him. “Shit. Follow me.”

Sprinting through the muck, Jack saw that his target was giving orders to the men around him, shouting with authority, and even taking shots with a rifle at the harvesters continuing to charge the defensive perimeter.
 

As he got closer, Jack could see the outline of the thing’s skeleton beneath the malleable flesh. There was no question.
 

The only problem was that the thing was right in the middle of a group of soldiers. If Jack shot it now, it could easily kill other soldiers when it burst into flame.

“Rudenko! We've got to get him away from the others!”

The big man didn’t hesitate. He simply charged him and grabbed the harvester by the arm, swung it around, and let it go, flinging it away from the men and putting it in Jack’s line of fire.

The thing recovered its balance almost immediately, much faster than a man possibly could. The human-looking face glared at Rudenko, but before it could do anything more, Jack fired.

The Dragon’s breath shell speared through its thorax and the harvester’s malleable flesh exploded into flame. It did a dance of death, burning gobbets sailing away into the night.

The soldiers around the thing cried out in terror, turning their attention away from the other harvesters that were still coming on fast.

Rudenko bellowed at the soldiers, gesturing with his shotgun for them to turn away from the flaming harvester, harmless now, to watch for the enemies that could still kill them.

As if the sizzling pyre of the harvester was a signal, the firing around them died down, then stopped.
 

The silence was stunning.
 

“Did we kill them all?” It was Rudenko’s question, but every surviving soldier was wondering the same thing.

“Don’t count on it. They gave up too easily.”
 

 
“Too easily?” Rudenko looked around them. At least a quarter of the men were down, either injured or killed. There were piles of bodies, soldiers who had fought and died at close quarters with harvesters that had made it to the perimeter. Most of the creatures were in their natural, insectoid form, their limbs and killing appendages exposed. A few were part man, part beast, as if they had come running at the humans in the process of changing form. The air was thick with the foul stench that the harvesters exuded in their natural state, and more than a few men were choking and gagging, the smell was so intense. “This must be all, Jack. There were not so many people living in the village to act as hosts for there to be many more.”

Jack shook his head, remembering the poor monkey who was the very first victim of this new generation of harvesters. “Remember, these things don't need humans. They can use any organic material. Animals, plants, almost anything.”

“
Da
. Even plastics and rubber.” Rudenko wiped a bloodstained hand across his forehead. “I had forgotten.”

“And we have no idea how quickly they reproduce, spawning the smaller larval forms. God knows how many of those little sons of bitches are oozing toward us right now.”

Rudenko reflexively looked down at his feet, but he knew that one of the abominations could be right next to his foot and he probably wouldn’t see it in these conditions. “
Chyort voz’mi
.”

Jack finished scanning the men left in the defensive perimeter with the thermal imaging sight. He didn’t see any others who looked like harvesters. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find Mikhailov.”

* * *

They found the Russian captain where they’d left him, near the center of the defensive perimeter, not far from where Kuybishev was talking on the radio in quiet, urgent tones.

“That was exciting.” Mikhailov patted Jack on the shoulder and nodded at Rudenko. “Glad to see you made it.”

“You, too.” Jack looked more closely at the Russian captain. “You seem a bit better than when we left you.”
 

“Drugs, Jack, they do wonders. Our medic gave me something. My ribs still hurt, but it does not seem to matter as much.”

Rudenko snorted. “Vodka is better medicine.”

Jack nodded toward the regimental commander. “What’s Kuybishev doing?”

“Trying to get air support. Unfortunately, he is having a difficult time persuading our superiors to bomb this place.” Mikhailov glanced over at Kuybishev as the colonel gave the handset back to the radioman while hissing a stream of curses. “The memories of what happened in your California a year ago are still fresh, it seems.”

Kuybishev stomped over, his feet splashing in the mud. Unable to help himself, Jack watched every step the colonel took. He’d become acutely aware of how dangerous the ground had become.

“We are ordered to withdraw.” Kuybishev spat on the ground. “The fools are sending trucks for us.”

“What about the rest of the battalion?” Jack had a sinking feeling. “When is the second drop supposed to arrive?”

“They are not coming. Second drop has been canceled. Army is sending 205
th
Motorized Rifle Brigade from Budyonnovsk to sanitize area.”

“And what is to become of us,
polkovnik
?” Mikhailov asked, shocked. “They think we have failed, and so simply remove us?”

“No, they do not think we failed. We are being recalled as part of general alert of airborne troops and military operational commands. The Chinese have gone on full military alert.” He shot a look at Jack. “I should not be saying this to outsiders, of course.”

“I understand, colonel,” Jack told him. “Your secrets are safe with me. But it’s not the Chinese you should be worried about. One of my people informed me that she thought something like what is happening here was happening in China, too. There are also outbreaks in Brazil and India. Their military response is being triggered by the harvesters, just the same as yours.”

Kuybishev’s expression hardened. “I do not wish to believe you, but I cannot dismiss what I have seen with my own eyes. I requested air strike here, to kill any little horrors that might have survived, but command denied it. Now we count our dead and await transport.”
 

Jack was about to point out that he didn’t think the battle here was over when he heard something over the pattering of the rain. It was a mewling screech.

Soon the lone voice was joined by others, creating an unholy din somewhere beyond the nearest houses on the eastern flank.
 

“Colonel,” Jack said quietly, “I suggest you reinforce that side. We’re going to have company in a minute, and probably lots of it.”

“What is that terrible sound?” Rudenko tightened the grip on his shotgun as, like every other man in the perimeter, he stared in the direction of the noise.

“Unless I’m badly mistaken, those are cats. They’re the only animals that have an instinctive revulsion toward harvesters. We use them as living detectors, and I sure wish someone would figure out a way to bring them on operations like this.” In that moment, he wished more than anything that he had his own cat, Alexander, here with him, but knew that the silly beast was a lot safer at home with Naomi. “One of them even saved my life a couple times.”

One of the soldiers on the eastern side shouted something.

Mikhailov translated, his voice thick with dread. “Movement!”

Turning to the young captain, Kuybishev said, “Stay here. I am putting a platoon under your command as reserve.”

“
Ponyatno
.”
 

Pointing at Jack, Kuybishev said, “You stay with him. Kill any that mimic my soldiers, and stay alive. You know these things, and information you bring back will be priceless.” He looked at Rudenko. “You will protect him. At all costs.”

Before Rudenko could respond, Kuybishev had spun around and was trotting away into the darkness in the direction from which the cries of the cats were growing steadily louder and more frenzied.

“I have never heard such a sound.” Rudenko stood close by Jack while Mikhailov spoke to the men Kuybishev had pulled out of the line and sent to him, there in the center of the defensive ring.
 

As Jack had suggested, Kuybishev had pulled as many men as he dared from the other quadrants to reinforce the eastern sector, and made the perimeter even smaller in hopes of making it easier to defend.

“There’s something about the harvesters that seems to override the cats’ natural instincts,” Jack explained quietly as he scanned the houses to the east. There was still nothing. “They’ll band together, attack and fight.”

“I wonder where the cats were before now?”

“There’s no way of knowing.” Jack saw small, light gray shapes dart around both sides of the nearest house. Like a school of fish, the cats seemed to move as one. They paused, just for a moment, and then made a beeline for the humans. A torrent of nightmarish shapes followed right behind them. “Shit, here they come! Tell Kuybishev they’re coming!”