The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(18)

Behind her, MacDonald was firing at the creatures attempting to attack from the other side. One Abscrag in black SWD armor raced past the others and threw itself at the wall. Lindsey ducked as he flew over her head, landing on the stairs. Writhing about, it instantly scrabbled at MacDonald’s legs, trying to gain purchase. The man was without a helmet, his left cheek missing.

“Fucking hell,” MacDonald grunted and shot his former comrade in the face, turning his head to avoid the splatter.

“Did you get any on you?” Lindsey grabbed his shoulder and jerked him about.

“No, I’m good,” MacDonald answered, his thin face fierce.

He was furious, that much was clear. Lindsey didn’t blame him. Life was being horribly unfair to him. Heaving his weapon into position, he fired at the Scrags rushing him.

Discs pelted the stairs from the side and Franklin dropped from her perch as she attempted to avoid the incoming danger. “Shit!”

Lindsey fell back across the steps, the impact jarring the breath from her lungs, but she kept her weapon aimed at the darkness looming at the top of the stairs. Someone was out there, skirting the main battle to fire at them from the side. The blackness of the night was hazy, and Lindsey checked her map on the corner of her helmet. There was no wristlet signal emanating from where the discs had to have originated.

“The two dangerous ones, Master Seeker. Did they have wristlets?”

MacDonald was flush against the wall lining the steps, his gun aiming overhead in case a Scrag bounded onto the stairwell. “I don’t recall seeing any.”

Lindsey studied the red dots still on her helmet. Only two were still moving, but they weren’t the intelligent Abscrags they needed to worry about. “Franklin, we got two left. Attempting to sneak up on our blind spot. They’re not on our sensors.”

“I’ll find them. They’re mine,” came the brisk answer. Franklin was also lying across the steps, wary of any more shots fired from the electroshock weapons, but she started to rise.

“No, hold position.” Lindsey hated that they were pinned down, but it was a risk she’d taken when she decided to rescue MacDonald. Quickly analyzing all possibilities, Lindsey realized they couldn’t leave their position without risking the lives of Hobbes and Giacomi and themselves. If they opened the blast doors, they risked the Abscrags charging to get inside. Then she realized what she had to do.

“Can you move Giacomi?” she asked MacDonald.

Keeping his body flush against the steps, he dared to poke his head up to look at Giacomi. “Disc is dead. I’ll get her.”

While he crawled upward to retrieve the fallen soldier, Lindsey checked on Hobbes. The disc clinging to his armor was still sputtering, but was terminating. “As soon as it’s dead, we need to move him above us.”

“As a barricade?” Franklin asked incredulously.

“They want to disable and infect us. Giacomi and Hobbes are already knocked out.”

Lindsey was not comfortable with her decision, but if the three of them were hit, too, it was over. Lindsey continued to watch her screen and the two red dots of the remaining members of MacDonald’s squad. They were rushing about the area in a zigzag. She suspected they were trying to find more Inferi Scourge to direct to the subway entrance. It’s what she would do if she were the clever Abscrags. Gather a bunch of the mindless undead, drive them at the enemy, and then take advantage of the commotion.

MacDonald wiggled back down the stairs, dragging Giacomi with him. A few seconds later, the disc died. Hobbes was huge, so it took both women to scoot him up the stairs just as MacDonald reached them with Giacomi. A few discs ricocheted off the walls and steps, but fell short of their position. Realizing what they were doing, MacDonald angled Giacomi on her side above Hobbes. The three remaining soldiers squatted on the lower landing in front of the closed entrance.

“They’re going to cause a stampede with the regular Scrags.” Lindsey kept an eye on the two red dots on her screen as they separated and headed in opposite directions.

“I see it,” Franklin agreed. “They’ll hit us from both sides and the Abscrags will come down the center.”

“Right. But we’re not going to give them that chance,” Lindsey replied.

It was evident by how far away the two dots were from the subway that the two turned SWD soldiers were having difficulty rounding up Scrags. That was definitely a good sign. She opened the comm to Petra and merged it so Franklin could hear. She felt bad to exclude MacDonald. “Petra, I need you to open the blast doors.”

“Vanguard, I can’t—”

“Not all the way. Just open it to about a meter, then shut it. We’re pinned down and I need to draw out the intelligent Abscrags in charge of the others. They’re the ones left over from the failed Inferi Boon missions.”

“Do it,” Commandant Pierce’s voice ordered over the line. “Kill them and destroy their bodies.”

“Understood.” Lindsey leaned toward MacDonald. “Did you hear any of that?”

“Opening the doors as bait,” he whispered back.

She barely heard his voice, but could read his lips.

“Not all the way,” she answered him.

“Understood,” MacDonald said, nodding.

“Franklin, cover the right. MacDonald, the left. I’ve got center.” Lindsey glanced up at the top of the structure. “No way up to the roof other than scaling the low walls, right?”