The Last Bastion of the Living (The Last Bastion #1)(58)



Examining the pieces of Coleman.

The armor was old and the many sharp fingernails and teeth had managed to rent tears along the seams of his arms and legs. One arm was completely torn from his body, another was a mangled mess. Numerous bites covered each.

Coleman’s mouth was moving, but no words were coming out of his lips. There wasn’t a throat to push air through, no larynx to speak. His neck had been torn open, bits of flesh strewn about his head. His spine was exposed and that was all that connected his body and head.

Omondi swore under his breath. Cruz gasped, but didn’t say anything more. She knelt next to Coleman and rested her hand on his forehead through his shattered visor.

“I can’t save him,” Denman said in a stricken voice, looking at Maria. “Do you understand? He may be able to survive as a Boon, but we can’t fix this. No medicine can put him back together. We can’t resuscitate him like this.”

“We’ll med-pod him back,” Omondi decided.

Denman rose to his feet and shoved a few Scourge out of his way to draw closer to Omondi. “I’m out here to fix wounds that may occur from physical rigors of the job or accidents. Nothing like this was supposed to happen. The SWD was clear on my directives. Any mortal wounds are to be considered fatal. I am supposed euthanize anyone with this sort of massive injury.” He shook his head, agonized over the situation. “Dear God, he’s already dead. If not for being Boon...”

“Is Coleman okay?” a voice called from above.

The soldiers were lined up along the edge of the vehicle attempting to watch. The forest of Scourge standing over Coleman blocked their view.

“No, he’s not,” Denman answered in a bleak voice.

Omondi glared at Denman, his jaw flexing as though he was chewing over the words he was going to speak. He briskly gestured for Cruz to stand back. Shoving Scourge away as she obeyed her commanding officer, Cruz stared at Coleman with sadness in her gaze.

Maria moved to stand at her side. It was a strange relief that she couldn’t cry in this terrible moment. Coleman’s eyes followed her and she averted her gaze.

“Chief Defender Omondi, I need to take care of this now. It’s not right to leave him like this,” Denman persisted.

Omondi’s dark eyes glowered at Denman, then he gave a quick nod. “Do it.”

Falling to his knees, Denman opened the medical kit that hung from his waist. He withdrew what looked like a smaller version of the bolt weapon.

“Coleman, I’m truly sorry,” Denman said softly as the Scourge moaned and swayed around him. With more care than Maria expected, Denman turned Coleman’s head, the last bits of muscle strung across his ruined neck tearing apart. Pressing the weapon against the base of Coleman’s head, Denman hit the trigger. The bolt punched through the soldier’s skull and whirred as the blades inside destroyed Coleman’s brain.

Falling onto his backside, Denman covered his face with his gloved hand. “Oh, Jesus.”

Maria glanced at her wristlet.

Thirty minutes into their mission they had already lost one of their own.





Chapter 16



Jameson drew his weapon, and with anger twisting his young features, slammed his bolt weapon against the skull of one the Scourge and fired. It grunted, its body thrashing, then fell to the ground.

“Sir?” Cruz asked, unsure if she should follow Jameson’s bold action.

“Clear the area around the carrier,” Omondi ordered, his voice gruff as he stared down at Coleman’s broken body.

Weapons drawn, the Inferi Boon Special Ops butchered the creatures surrounding them. The metallic clang of the bolts punching through the Scourge skulls mingled with the moans of the swaying creatures. The Scourge didn’t fight back or even seem aware of the danger around them. The creatures fell all around Maria. Their skulls were a ruined mess of broken bone and mangled brains. The sight was horrific, yet Maria felt emotionally removed from the slaughter. The memory of Ryan being torn away from her by the Scourge buffered her emotions.

The stench was still pungent despite her muted senses. Maria pulled a scarf from her pack and wrapped it around her head and over her nose. Using hooks from their packs, Maria and Mikado dragged the corpses away, heaping them into a pile. Arms and legs covered in decades of filth and dried gore wove together in a knot of death.

McKinney climbed into the carrier and tossed out a body bag. Anger strained his features as he knocked over a few Scourge blocking his way.

“He was f*cking terrified to be out here,” McKinney snarled. “I told him it was going to be okay.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.” Denman snatched up the body bag and carried it over to Coleman’s body.

“We all knew the risks,” Cruz said.

McKinney wagged his lowered head angrily. “Fucking Scrags.”

“Calm it down, McKinney,” Maria ordered.

Cormier patted the big guy on the back, then guided him away from Coleman.

It took all of Maria’s willpower not to stare at the dead soldier’s torn body.

“We f*cked up,” Mikado grumbled, hooking a dead child through the eye. With an angry tug, he hauled it onto the top of the stack. It flopped there like a doll, its dead face staring at the rising sun.

Maria snagged another one by the shoulder and dragged it over. Guilt tore at her and she wondered why they had never even considered the confusion their armor and helmets might cause. “No one ever really knew how Scrags could recognize their own from the living. Hell, some people thought they had a supernatural ability.”

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