Chương 158: Chapter 156 – Rail Blazers

Cole cast an eye north towards the mountain. Arley was up there somewhere, looking down at them. Even with vision many times better than an unenhanced human, Cole couldn't pick him out on the slope. But Arley had no problem coordinating Cole and Wayland with Morganstern and Fasil, who circled around to the north.

"What's it doing?" Wayland asked. Cole keyed his radio." Arley, status?"" Still milling around the river. Looks like something tore up a patch of forest." Cole clicked his teeth." That'd be where I fought Bessie." Wayland whispered next to him." Who's Bessie?" Cole ignored him and listened to Arley's reply." That explains it. Probably got your scent all over those woods. He's confused. Trying to pick up your trail again, but he found the old one and he's following that instead." Could be.

Made as much sense as anything else the reanimated mage had done.

"If that's the case, he'll be headed up to a ridgeline and then right back to the clearing where he died, because that's where I went after I put down Bessie." Morganstern's voice crackled on the radio." I know that spot. The ridge where you made camp the first night, right?"

"That's right."" Arley, give me six mikes, I'll circle around and get ahead of him. Pin him to that cliff."" Good copy, I'm ready when you are." Cole kept moving, keeping his ears alert from any motion ahead of them. His rifle buzzed in his hands with anxious energy that he was sure reflected his own nerves. Maybe it was just apprehensive about fighting an enemy that didn't go down under a hail of the eldritch gun's projectiles. Wayland followed behind, thirty meters or so.

Any further and he'd lose Cole in his ape-skin cloak. If his squad went on another Babel cycle, Cole wanted to get some of these for the entire team. The breeze blew past from the east, and Cole caught a trace of rotted flesh and rusted metal. The thing's ragged robes and armor hadn't been treated well by the Curahee weather—and neither had what remained of its flesh. The fungal infestation had moved in and made itself at home.

They reached the river and waded across, watching the opposite tree line for signs that the Beast Cult mage had circled back, but made it to the relative cover of the canopy with little fuss. Cole started to pick along the trail he'd once retreated through, running full-tilt away from the massive, armored knight with the ram-headed helmet. The trees still bore the signs of the knight's passing, pushed to the side and leaning as though they'd dived out of the way of his thundering charge.

But now the tables had turned. Cole was the one in pursuit. And he wasn't alone. Even if he'd prefer his own team, Morganstern and Arley were experienced Kickers. And he'd been itching to see Morganstern fight ever since his first night in these woods." Cole, Arley, I'm in position," said Morganstern.

"Good copy," whispered Cole." Cole," said Wayland.

"I can't maintain your blood buff and curse this guy at the same time. Your buff's gonna fade over time. It'll suck." Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Cole took a deep breath.

"Alright. I'll manage. Do what you gotta do." Wayland nodded, expression grim." Alright, Cole," said Arley." You're up. Make sure you crack its shield." Cole looked at Wayland.

"Catch up ASAP. I'm going to get the jump on this guy." Cole burned a charge of Meteoric Leap and bounded up out of the canopy. The blurred, red silhouette froze ahead of him, shifting uncertainly." Cole, whatever you did, he just felt it. He's looking your direction." Good. Let him see what was coming. The wind whipped around his face as he skimmed the treetops. Cole stopped his momentum over the trees two-hundred meters west of the ridge and fed the kinetic energy into his rifle.

The ravenous weapon opened up vents, hissing steam from the influx of power. Cole fired the first shot almost straight down at a silhouette close to him. His barrel started crawling with small blue tendrils of electricity and he sent the rest of his enhanced rounds in a single full-auto burst, then burned a second charge and shot himself at a forty-five-degree angle as a set of white ethereal claws scythed through the top of the canopy where he'd just been floating.

His oblique path carried him within sight of the creature, far enough off his previous path to see the tail of the accretion-enhanced rounds curve toward the silhouette on the ground. The creature was nimble, but three of the four rounds still found their mark, flaring with bright bursts of white and blue light as his electric affix sparked off the energy shell.

The last shot sent a crack of spiderwebs across its surface and punched through both the shield and the creature, jerking it to the side and kicking up a small fountain of dirt. Just before landing, Cole shot a second volley. This time the shield only held up for the first round. The creature was being pressured by the onslaught—but was far from dead.

However, having the tables turned and finding itself ambushed, it attempted to withdraw to the north, sprinting along the ridge and dropping another of those poison smoke screens." Oh no you don't," muttered Arley over the radio. An orange trail of fire split the sky between the mountain and the ridge, disappearing into the cloud. It kicked up an even bigger cloud of dirt and debris where it struck. The shockwave of the impact hit Cole like a brick wall, and then the sound.

The sheer volume stabbed his eardrums even through the ear protection, leaving his ears ringing. Guess I don't have to worry about him being miles away, thought Cole. That shot must have been going at least six-thousand feet per second. Practically looked like a laser. A hypersonic projectile from a small arm. Arley wasn't kidding about his marksmanship. As he continued to fall, Cole reached around and grabbed his gas mask, pulling off his helmet to slide the straps of the mask over his head.

His field of vision reduced to the front window of the mask and he dropped into the poison cloud and dust that was already starting to get blown from the ridge. The mage's silhouette was much clearer, now. It scrabbled against the ground but didn't seem to make any headway. Cole fired into the cloud. The ringing in his ears was replaced with a high-pitched shriek. A white wave pushed out of the cloud. Cole felt heart-stopping terror as it hit him, causing him to flinch.

But he'd already experienced that spell on Babel and resisted the overwhelming urge to flee. Instead, he fired until his gun ran dry. It didn't wait for his permission for a reload, snagging the next magazine directly from Cole's belly band and shoving the whole mag, rounds and polymer case, directly into its crunching jaws. The toxic cloud burned at his exposed hands and throat, feeling like the skin crawled with fire ants. But his flesh wasn't melting off his bones, so he continued forward.

Wind worked in his favor, clearing enough that he got a direct look at the mage, where a ten-centimeter barbed rod pinned one of its legs to the ground. It pulled, desperately trying to dislodge the projectile. As soon as it saw Cole, it sent another ethereal slash his way. Cole threw himself sideways, bounding over the rocks on top of the ridge. The spell passed close enough to sting his flesh more than the venomous cloud, and a fleck of blood splashed across his mask.

He fired back at the mage fixed firmly under his reticle. Chunks blasted off the creature's body, but it paid them little attention as if the heavy 7. 62 rounds were just horseflies. Instead, it brought up its hand, wrapped in the ethereal white energy, and scythed down, severing its own leg just above the puncture. It bounded away, running on three intact limbs and a stump, towards the opposite tree line. Cole moved forward to chase it, and his world went double.

Nausea roiled up in his stomach and he staggered to the side, trying to figure out which eye was lined up with his reticle and target. A wave of pain, deeper than his flesh, washed across his body. He growled and kept shooting at the retreating Beast Cult zombie that moved way faster than something with a missing leg ought to move. His magazine ran dry just as the mage reached the trees at the other end of the ridge.