Read The Orion Plague for Free Online

So he clicked on “10” and put ten
rounds into each vehicle in turn. “There’s an underground parking
garage,” he warned as a tunnel leading down hove into view.
    “Lockerbie, as soon as we dismount, push some
of these hulks to block that tunnel. Butler, I see windows. I don’t
like windows.”
    Butler grinned. “Roger that, Top.” He flipped
the gun back to full auto and walked a stream of rounds from the
building’s corner to corner, holing every window and the front
glass doors as well. They didn’t come apart the way they should,
though. “Armored glass. Bulletproof. Good thing these ain’t
bullets,” Butler muttered.
    Profligate with ammo this time, he sprayed
the penetrators along the top and bottom of the window line, and
great gaps appeared as chunks of the hardened crystal fell to the
ground by the hundredweight. “Ammo!” he yelled, and Donovan
scrambled to reach over the seat and pull up several 200-round
cases of 20mm penetrator. Grusky helped him manhandle the
fifty-pound shell holders into the turret hoppers.
    Without windows the rooms beyond were
visible, well-lit offices with computers, shelves, desks, chairs.
Tiny blue lightnings popped from broken electronics. Here and there
a small fire started, smoke curling up toward the ceiling to
activate the suppression system. In several places inverted
fountains of halon gas poured down, obscuring their view.
    And a few things, once human, twitched redly
in the wreckage. The hundreds of penetrators had probably sliced
all the way through the building to burst out the other side,
slaughtering everything in their path.
    Jill’s conscience banged on its box lid,
trying to get out. Shut up , she said to that piece of
herself. I’m not wrong about this place. Whatever is going on
here, it’s evil. The only thing I am going to regret is if there’s
no one left to give me intel.
    “Hurry up!” she barked as she shoved the
Beast’s heavy door open and dismounted. Her PW10 snugged on its
retractable sling under her right arm, and in her hands she hefted
the rotary grenade launcher. “Butler, finish loading the Vixen
yourself, and keep an eye on that jail. There may be armed guards
in there, but there may also be prisoners, so don’t perforate it.
Grusky, Donovan, you’re with me. Get moving, go go go!”
    The three burst out of the vehicle and
followed Repeth as she jogged toward the shattered front door of
the office building. Behind them, Butler reloaded his depleted bin
as Lockerbie bulldozed wrecked cars to block the underground
garage.
    Repeth saw movement in a gutted room and
resisted the urge to fire a grenade. I need information, not
revenge, she scolded herself. For now, that other self
listened. She clambered over the sill into the office and through
the mess.
    Legs struggled weakly beneath a heavy
overturned desk. Repeth pointed and the two men heaved the thing
off the body while she covered them. Beneath the wreckage lay a man
in shirt and tie, bloodied and dazed. She reached down to haul him
to a seat in a surviving chair. Grabbing his hair to look him in
the face, she lifted an eyelid. Running her half-gloved fingers
over his torso, she searched for the wound that had produced all
the blood.
    She found a moist, bloody but rapidly-closing
hole in his abdomen, and she put her grenade launcher down on the
desk behind her to pull up her PW10. She set its muzzle to his
head. “He’s healing. Nano or bio of some kind. That’s good, he
won’t die on us. Cuff his hands, then tie his feet with that lamp
cord, Donovan.” Once he was secured and his eyes were starting to
clear, she slapped him gently. “Hey, you. You. What’s your
name?”
    They heard a burst of Vixen fire, then
silence. The man looked around wildly, realizing his
predicament.
    “Hey you,” she repeated. “Focus. What’s your
name?”
    “Bill,” he said dazedly.
    “Okay, Bill, are you an Eden?”
    A sly look crossed his face before it
smoothed. “Yeah, Eden.