Prologue: In the Field
A blast of heat brushed by William Palmer's cheek as he took a quick look from around the tree he hid behind. He brought his head back quickly, quick enough to see the shot that just grazed his face impact on a tree not four yards away, sending splinters flying.
William checked the ammunition on his autorifle. Less than half in the clip, but he had fresh clips in his pack. He pressed his back to the tree, his heart pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears. Then he jumped out from behind the tree, swinging his autorifle down to his hip.
He squeezed the trigger so hard he thought he might break it, and swung the rifle across his front so that it sprayed bullets in a wide arc. A few aliens fell to the spray of bullets. Others were saved by their large shoulder pads, and they returned fire.
William dropped down in the grass, rolling toward another tree.
There he ran into someone. Looking up, his pulse pounding, he was relieved to see Robert Oliver, a fellow Guardsman.
Robert grabbed his webbing and yanked him behind the tree he was using for cover. It was wide, like all the other
trees in the area. William scrambled to a kneeling position. He looked around.
Men were running around, firing at the aliens, taking return fire. Screams of pain rang out as some were hit and killed by pulses of energy. Cries of anguish came from other men, men who had seen their best friend cut down by merciless fire. Others cursed the Emperor for not giving them the protection they needed.
This was what hell was truly like, William thought.
|
