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Death World(科幻战争)-第31章

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they couldn’t finish。 Another ork shape was clearly outlined; watching him with unblinking eyes;
one of which had slid half out of its socket on a slagheap of dried blood。 As Lorenzo watched; it
withdrew and sank silently into the ground。
“They’re watching us;” he announced。 “We’ve survived everything else Rogar has to throw at
us; so it’s got its zombies watching us; looking for a weakness。”
“I’d almost rather they made their move;” murmured Braxton; “and got it over with。”
“Careful what you wish for。” Storm cautioned him grimly。
“When you people first arrived;” said Braxton; “and you were talking about Rogar like it was
a—I don’t know – a living thing; an enemy; like an ork or something; I didn’t know… I mean; I’m
starting to see it now。 I’m starting to feel like this planet is alive; like it’s intelligent; like it really
wants us dead。” He sounded as if he wanted somebody to contradict him。 No one did。
The jungle had started to close in again。 Greiss had sent Myers and Storm ahead to clear the way;
and the squad’s pace had dropped to a crawl。
And the ghosts were gathering at their backs。
“Maybe we should send a few las…shots their way;” suggested Armstrong; worriedly; hefting his
gun in his good hand as if to reassure himself he could still operate it。 “Discourage them a little。”
“Don’t know if it’d work;” murmured Greiss。
“Hotshot fired at…” Lorenzo began; then was unable to say Dougan’s name; “…the first one。 It
didn’t seem to react at all。”
“They don’t feel pain;” said Greiss。 “You remember what Brains said。 We’ve got to stop
thinking of these things as living creatures。 They’re less than that—less than orks; even。 They don’t
have hearts—or if they do; they sure aren’t beating anymore。 No internal organs; no nerves; no
pressure points; and I doubt their brains are getting much use。 They’re plants; no more than that。
Part of the jungle—the planet itself—just wrapped around the remains of the dead。”
Lorenzo stole a quick look at the collecting shadows; searching for one that was shorter and
thinner than the others; hoping he wouldn’t find it。 If the God…Emperor had any influence at all here;
so far from his Golden Throne; he would see to it that Dougan could rest in peace。
“Then we deal with them like we would any hostile plant;” reasoned Armstrong。
“Can’t tear ’em up by the roots;” growled Greiss。 “They’re up and walking about already。”
“Shred ’em?” suggested Storm; his fingers twitching over his knife hilt。
“Take too long with the knives;” said Greiss。 “Way I’m thinking; those things will keep going
till you get to the skeleton and can take it apart。”
“We’ve got to do something;” said Braxton; “before they attack!”
“Boy’s right;” said Armstrong。 “We need a show of strength; give them something to think
about。 If they can think; that is。”
“If they can’t;” muttered Myers; “looks like something does it for them。”
“How much ordnance do we have left between us?” asked Lorenzo。
“Couple of shredder mines;” offered Storm。
“Still got my demolition charges;” said Myers。
“Save ’em;” said Greiss; with a gleam in his eye; “for a special occasion。 I got a better idea。” He
and Armstrong spoke as one: “Burn “em!”
80
Lorenzo and Braxton took over clearance duty as Myers and Storm assembled the flamer again。
Greiss wielded it himself; straining under the weight of the device as he lugged it a few steps closer
to the watching zombies。 Then he pulled the trigger; and simultaneously swept the flamer around in
a wide arc。
It was like a dozen explosions had gone off at once; plants and trees erupting as if they’d just
combusted from within。 The zombies—those Lorenzo could see—they were burning too; starting
with the parts of them that were the most flammable: the clumps of weeds and grass embedded in
their bodies。 They reeled in apparent confusion; their arms pumping in futile slow…motion; patting
themselves down; trying to extinguish themselves; succeeding only in setting fire to their hands or
bumping into each other and spreading the flames to their comrades。
Lorenzo was amazed at the severity of the reaction; until he remembered that Rogar III had felt
fire before—from the Jungle Fighters’ small campfire of two nights ago to the all…out attempts by
humans and orks alike at deforestation。 It knew what fire could do to it; and—Lorenzo knew this
didn’t make sense; but he was suddenly sure of it; more sure than he’d been of anything his instincts
had told him of late—it was afraid of it。 The deathworld itself was afraid; and in its fear; it chose to
attack the creatures that had hurt it so much; while it still had the means to do so。 And it sent its
soldiers forward…
The Jungle Fighters drew their lasguns as six flaming zombies—those that could still walk—
came stumbling towards them; trailing smoke; like a small army of infernal daemons。 They let off a
fusillade of shots; to no effect; and Greiss sent another blast of fire the zombies’ way in the hope of
hastening their demise; before abandoning the flamer and leaping aside; not an instant too soon。 A
zombie hurled itself at him; and hit the ground where Greiss had been; setting light to the
undergrowth。 It tried to stand again; but scorched earth was sloughing from it like dead skin;
withering to ash; and the bones of its purloined skeleton were beginning to show through and it
could no longer lift its own weight。
The rest of the squad dropped their packs and tried to scatter; but they couldn’t go far; confined
to the narrowed corridor their knives had cleared。 The same couldn’t be said of the zombies: their
movements were slow and awkward but unhampered; the foliage itself seeming to part for them。
They separated too; each choosing a target。 Lorenzo found himself side by side with Braxton; both
trying to press themselves back into the jungle; thorns tearing at their jackets and their hair; nettles
stinging their hands; as two flaming zombies homed in on them。
He heard a yell; “Aim for their kneecaps!” and he followed Armstrong’s suggestion and tried to
shoot the nearest zombie’s leg out from under it。 He got in four shots before it was upon him。 It
raised a ponderous fist; and Lorenzo wasn’t sure who its target was—him or Braxton—but then the
fist came down towards him; and he ducked; and he tried to scramble past the zombie’s leg; but his
hand recoiled from a flaming footprint in the grass。 The zombie swung around to follow him but a
bone snapped; and its leg buckled; and Lorenzo knew his las…shots had done some good after all。
The zombie was falling—but it managed to turn its fall into a lunge; and Lorenzo couldn’t get
out of the way in time as the creature; now little more than a burning skeleton; plummeted towards
him。 For an instant; he was staring into its hollow eye sockets—piggy ork eye sockets—and they
seemed to be mocking him。 A tusked mouth gaped in a rictus grin。 Lorenzo brought up a foot;
planted it in the zombie’s stomach and tried to fling it over him。 It fell apart with the impact of his
boot; and though the bulk of its mass passed safely over his head; Lorenzo was showered with bones
and mud and burning leaves。
He rolled; to put out any flames that may have taken hold of his clothing。 Then he sprang to his
feet; lasgun in hand; to find that the other zombies had suffered the same fate as his。 The
combination of flames and las…fire had destroyed their cohesion; and they were collapsing at the feet
of the relieved Jungle Fighters。 Two skeletons were relatively intact; and as Lorenzo watched they
were drawn into the ground。 Storm reached one before it could vanish; and drove his gun butt into
its spine; breaking it。 The other—the skeleton of the monster that had attacked Greiss—escaped。
81
The Jungle Fighters relaxed and regrouped in the sudden silence; dozens of small fires flickering
around them until the rain extinguished them。
“Think that’s the last we’ll see of them; sergeant?” asked Myers。
“I hope so; Bullseye;” growled Greiss。 He cast a disparaging eye over the discarded flamer。
“Because this thing’s just about on empty。” Myers and Storm packed up the device anyway; in case
they were being watched—although for the first time in two days; none of the Catachans felt as if
they were。
“There were more of those things out there。” Armstrong pointed out to Greiss。 “You only burnt
the front ranks of them。 There were at least a dozen more behind—they escaped into the ground
when they saw the flames。”
“Not to mention all the other orks that must’ve died on Rogar these past few years;” said
Lorenzo。
“And Guardsmen;” said Braxton quietly。
Greiss nodded。 He knew。
“Do you think they can move underground; sergeant?” Braxton asked。 “Or will they have to
resurface where they went down?”
“I don’t know;” said Greiss。 “What’re you thinking?”
“That it might be the right occasion to break out those mines。”
Greiss studied Braxton for a moment; then a grin tugged at his lips。 “I like the way you think;
Guardsman。 Right; troopers; all the shredders you have; hand ’em over。 Patch; you’re with me。 You
saw where some of them walkin
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