The harnesses attached to his balloon pulled him back when he crawled away from the bodies. He reached for his knife, which wasn’t there. Then he remembered plunging it into the Siren.
Pushing himself to his feet, he gritted his teeth in anticipation of the wave of dizziness he knew was coming. Darkness washed over him, and he collapsed back onto the snow. The worst of the pain seemed to be coming from his stomach. He pulled a slimy hand away from his gut, warm blood steaming off his fingers. The wound was bad, but the threat of radiation poisoning was worse.
He had to get moving. The Hive wouldn’t wait forever. He doubted it was still up there even now, but he clung to the spark of hope. The spark grew as he pushed himself to his feet and worked his way carefully back to the first Siren. It lay on its back, wings outstretched. A halo of frozen blood surrounded the knife hilt protruding from its rib cage. He watched its chest for any hint of breath, but the bloody flesh was still.
X took a guarded step toward the monster. Certain it was dead, he bent down and plucked his knife from its chest. He staggered backward as a coarse tongue plopped out of its open mouth.
With one eye on the creature, he reached over his shoulder and cut the harnesses away. Then he yanked the useless booster from the slot in his armor and dropped it in the snow.
Ignoring every stab of pain tormenting his body, he struggled to a trot. He stumbled after a few strides, nearly toppling over in the snow. The crackle from his raspy breathing echoed in his helmet.
In an out, X. Focus. You can do this.
The eerie call of a Siren broke his concentration. Two others immediately answered its call. These screeches weren’t coming from the sky. They were coming from the ground. He didn’t need to turn to see the monsters advancing across the snowy landscape.
He reached for his weapons, but his hand came up empty. He had lost both the rifle and the blaster in the fall. There was only one thing to do: run—and pray that he reached the supplies in time. Pain shot up his legs and burned through his gut as he fell into a jog.
The sight of Sirens loping across the snow energized him. All at once, their screeches seemed to collide in a wavering, electronic-sounding whine that shocked him into motion. He could see still more of them behind the first wave, fighting through gusts of snow in the distance. They rushed toward him, closing in from all directions. He pushed harder through the deep drifts, gasping for air, running on adrenaline and little else.
The supplies weren’t far now. He could see them just a few yards away—boosters, weapons, boxes of extra ammunition—lying in the snow, where he had tossed them to make room in the crate.
X launched himself in a headlong dive for the gear. The uncontrolled slide ripped at the wound and packed it with dirty, radioactive snow so cold it ached. Swallowing the pain, he searched frantically for a weapon beneath the light coat of powder that had fallen.
He gripped the stock of a blaster and brought it up to meet the four Sirens galloping in from the north.
Without thinking, he fired a flare at the cluster. A split second later, he realized his mistake. As the flare exploded in the snow between the creatures, he chinned the pad to shut off his night-vision optics. The Sirens squawked away, darting off into the gusting snow.
X scooped up a new booster, slid it into the slot on the back of his armor, and secured it with a click. Then he grabbed one of the assault rifles and turned to see two dozen Sirens stalking him.
He could power down and pull his battery unit, but he would never survive the trip back without the heating pads in his suit. His only option was to fight.
X planted his boots in the snow and struggled to shoulder his rifle. His arms shook as he raised the weapon. The crack of his own gunfire was a welcome sound, blotting out the encroaching wails. He fired in short bursts that punched through leathery skin and shattered bone. Four bodies pitched into the snow. He killed three more before ejecting the empty magazine and shoving in another. Smoke curled from the muzzle as he trained it on the six Sirens drawing closer. He squeezed the trigger, moving his sights from target to target.
Between the cracks of gunfire came a shrill cry above. He looked up to see three Sirens cutting through the sky in a nosedive. Swinging his rifle skyward, he fired single shots into the mass. One of the creatures veered away, wounded, but the other shots went wide as panic threw off his aim.
X concentrated this time, aiming with greater precision, knowing that each round was precious. He closed his eyes and flinched as the two Sirens crashed headfirst into the snow around him, sending up a cloud of white. He didn’t check to see if they were dead. Now was his chance to escape. He changed out his magazine, then reached over his shoulder to hit the booster. The balloon shot out of the pack and launched him skyward.
Two converging Sirens bashed into each other right where he had stood a moment before, throwing up more snow. He angled the muzzle toward the ground as soon as he was in the air. Ten of the creatures writhed just under his feet, their eyeless faces turning this way and that, as if confused by the cloud of snow.
Not wanting to waste the stolen moment, X squeezed the trigger at one of the monsters as it looked skyward. Several of the rounds punched through its skull, spraying the others with fresh blood and sending them into a frenzy.
One down.
The next shot left another flopping spastically in the snow, with a shattered leg.
Two down.
He mowed down three more with a single controlled burst, but the rifle’s recoil pushed him higher into the air in erratic jerks.
The remaining Sirens locked on to his position from the ground, squawking furiously. He dropped three more with calculated shots before the final two got airborne.
X centered the weapon on them, but the stock felt light in his hands, and when he went to squeeze the trigger he realized his fingers were almost completely numb. His entire body shuddered. Shock and blood loss were taking a toll. The wind whistled over his armor as he rose toward the clouds.
Even with numb fingers, he managed to fire off another volley, ripping through the wings of the Siren to his left. It tumbled away before smashing into the ground. He focused on the other now, holding the rifle as steady as he could.
The monster soared through the sky. It was almost elegant, the way it caught the air currents. Even as it closed on him, X found himself marveling that somehow these creatures had survived in this harsh environment. Maybe it was the next step in evolution on earth. Maybe humans’ time was indeed over.
No. We still have time.
Holding in a breath, he lined up the sights and fired into the creature’s torso, knocking it off course and sending it spiraling out of control. He pulled the trigger again, but the gun wouldn’t fire.
X reached for his final magazine just as a crosswind knocked the rifle from his hands. He watched helplessly as it disappeared into the clouds. All he had left now was his knife. If the Sirens returned, he would have no choice but to use the blade.
He searched the darkness for any sign of them. His vision was tinted red, the field growing narrower, the images dimmer.
Almost there. Almost home.
He pressed against the wound on his belly and groaned at the stab of pain. Ascending higher, he drifted closer to unconsciousness. He fought it, but this wasn’t a foe to be vanquished with grit and a tactical knife.
Lightning shot across the clouds to the west, and ten seconds later, he heard the dull roll of thunder. X had drifted to the east, his balloon pulling him away from the storm.