Death World(科幻战争)-第37部分

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creeping　up　on　me。　I　couldn’t　resist　it。　I　gave　it　a　flick　with　my　lasgun；　catapulted　it　onto　the
greenskin’s　shoulder。　The　lizard　stuck　the　ork’s　neck　with　its　tongue　before　it　could　move。　It　was　on
the　ground；　thrashing　and　howling；　when　I　slipped　away。”
“Five　orks；”　said　Greiss；　“and　how　many　gretchin？”
“I　reckon　about　four。　Five；　maybe；”　said　Myers。
“Not　bad；”　mused　Armstrong。　“We　got　the　greenskins　down　to　less　than　half　strength；　and　they
don’t　even　know　they’re　under　attack　yet。”
The　Jungle　Fighters’　next　step　was　to　make　their　presence　well　and　truly　felt。
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They　synchronised　their　assault；　bursting　out　of　cover　from　six　points　simultaneously；　their
lasguns　flaring。　Lorenzo；　Braxton；　Greiss；　Armstrong　and　Storm　took　an　ork　each；　though
Armstrong　had　grumbled　under　his　breath　about　being　assigned　one　that　was　already　injured。　As
Lorenzo　fired　repeatedly　at　his　target；　he　was　aware　of　gretchin　scampering　away　towards　the　mine；
intent　on　taking　a　warning　to　their　warboss。　That　was　Myers’　job：　to　stop　them。
Myers’　las…bolts　struck　the　stunted　creatures　unerringly；　often　finding　the　best　angles　from　which
to　penetrate　two　or　three　of　them。　Two　gretchin　fell；　and　the　remaining　three　were　deterred　from
their　course；　giving　Myers　the　chance　to　get　between　them　and　the　mine　tunnel。　The　single　ork　that
had　been　guarding　the　entrance　had　been　lured　away　by　Greiss；　now　it　hesitated；　glancing　back；　not
sure　whether　to　press　its　attack　against　Greiss　or　to　tackle　this　new　foe。　In　the　event；　it　was　spared
that　decision。　One　of　Greiss’　las…bolts　passed　through　the　ork’s　thick　skull　and　fried　its　brain。
Lorenzo’s　ork　was　thundering　towards　him；　weakened　but　not　defeated。　He　dropped　his　gun；
pulled　his　Catachan　fang；　and　greeted　his　opponent　with　a　well…aimed　slash　to　the　throat。　The　ork
was　dead；　but　still　fighting。　Lorenzo　avoided　its　clumsy　grasp；　but　almost　fell　as　it　rammed　him　with
its　shoulder。　The　ork　toppled；　catching　him　off…balance；　and　bore　him　down　with　its　weight。　Its　left
hand　was　trapped　beneath　it；　but　it　seized　his　throat　with　its　right；　and　Lorenzo　grabbed　a　chunky
green　finger　in　each　hand　and　strained　to　pry　them　apart。
The　ork　ran　out　of　strength；　and　its　eyes　rolled　back　into　its　head　as　it　heaved　its　final　breath。
Lorenzo　pulled　himself　out　from　under　it；　in　time　to　see　Sergeant　Greiss　gunning　down　the　last　of
the　gretchin。　The　rest　of　his　squad　were　already　pulling　ork　corpses　into　the　foliage；　hiding　them；
and　Lorenzo　followed　suit。　None　of　their　targets　had　survived　to　spread　word；　but　it　was　possible
that　the　sounds　of　battle　had　carried　into　the　mine。
Lorenzo　waited；　crouching　silently；　watching　the　tunnel　entrance；　the　blood　of　his　dead　enemy
seeping　into　his　boot。　After　a　minute　or　so；　something　stirred　down　there；　and　Lorenzo　tensed　at　the
sight　of　an　oncoming　light。
It　was　another　barrow…pushing　ork。　Evidently；　it　hadn’t　heard　anything　amiss；　because　it　strode
right　out　into　the　clearing　and　stood　there；　blinking　in　the　harsh　light　of　the　lanterns；　just　beginning
to　register　the　fact　that　it　was　alone。
It　dropped　its　barrow；　which　teetered　and　upturned　itself；　spilling　its　contents。　A　look　of
confusion；　tinged　with　fear；　began　to　spread　across　the　ork’s　face—and　froze　there　as　multiple　lasbolts
stabbed　out　of　the　darkness　to　impale　it。
The　Jungle　Fighters　emerged　into　the　clearing　again；　and　Greiss　jabbed　the　fallen　ork　with　his
toe　to　check　that　it　was　really　dead；　that　it　wouldn’t　spring　up　and　surprise　them。　Myers　asked　if　they
should　burn　the　bodies；　to　prevent　the　planet　from　making　use　of　them。　Greiss　concluded；
reluctantly；　that　they　had　no　time；　that　their　work　here　could　be　discovered　at　any　moment；　and　that
they　would　just　have　to　take　that　chance。
They　headed　into　the　mine　tunnel；　in　single　file；　Storm　taking　point　wearing　an　ork　miner’s
helmet；　lighting　their　way　through　the　darkness。　Myers　was　behind　him；　then　Armstrong；　Braxton；
Lorenzo　and　finally　Greiss；　his　knife　drawn；　ready　for　anything　that　might　try　sneaking　up　on　them
from　behind。
They　had　taken　only　ten　steps；　hardly　left　the　lights　of　the　clearing　behind　them；　when　they　came
across　another　ork　with　a　barrow。　Its　helmet　beam　dazzled　Lorenzo—but　Storm’s　beam　blinded　the
ork　in　turn　so　that；　for　a　fateful　moment；　it　didn’t　recognise　the　intruders　for　what　they　were。
Sergeant　Greiss　had　decreed　that　lasguns　should　only　be　used　now　when　strictly　necessary—not　just
because　they　were　low　on　ammo；　but　because　who　knew　how　far　the　sound　would　carry　through
these　tunnels—so　Storm　leapt　at　the　creature　with　a　muted　snarl　and　his　Catachan　fang　raised　and；
impressively；　he　gutted　it　before　it　could　raise　much　more　than　a　whimper。
Storm　took　the　dead　ork’s　helmet　and　passed　it　back　along　the　line　to　Greiss；　who　turned　off　the
helmet’s　light　but　placed　it　on　his　head　for　future　use。　Then　they　crept　on　downward；　the　slope　of　the
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tunnel　becoming　more　pronounced　until　Lorenzo　judged　that　they　were　descending　below　ground
level。
He　eyed　the　precarious　wooden　struts—most　of　them　just　branches　chopped　to　size；　still
sprouting　offshoots　and　leaves—that　were　wedged　into　the　passageway　supporting　the　increasing
weight　of　the　earth　above　their　heads。　He　didn’t　trust　them。
The　ground　shook　again　then；　as　if　to　underscore　his　fears；　and　Lorenzo　swallowed　as　the
makeshift　struts　rattled　fiercely　and　a　shower　of　loose　soil　fell　about　his　ears。　He　couldn’t　tell　if　this
tremor　was　lighter　or　heavier　than　the　first　two；　he　only　knew　that　it　felt　more　ominous　down　here；
where　it　wasn’t　just　below　him　but　around　him　and　above　him　too；　and　where　he　knew　there　would
be　nowhere　to　hide　from　a　more　severe　quake；　no　way　to　avoid　being　buried　alive。
“You　realise；”　said　Braxton；　putting　Lorenzo’s　own　thoughts　into　words　as　the　tremor　subsided；
“if　this　place　caves　in；　we’ll　have　come　all　this　way　for　nothing。　Rogar　will　have　dealt　with　Big
Green　for　us。”
“Maybe；”　grunted　Greiss；　“and　maybe　not。　Maybe　he’ll　just　slip　away　through　his　escape　tunnel；
wherever　that　is；　and　maybe　it’ll　take　us　a　year　to　find　him　again。　No；　I　don’t　care　if　this　whole　damn
world　blows　itself　apart　around　us—I　for　one　am　not　backing　out　of　this　on　a　‘maybe’。　Far　as　I’m
concerned；　that　brute’s　still　alive　until　I　clap　my　own　eyes　on　his　stinking　corpse！”
Lorenzo　became　aware　of　a　sick　ache　in　his　stomach；　and　he　fought　down　a　surge　of　bile　in　his
throat。　His　skin　felt　hot；　prickly；　and　he　was　short　of　breath。　The　symptoms　came　from　nowhere；　and
at　first　he　thought　the　tunnel　must　have　caused　them；　this　unfamiliar；　claustrophobic　environment。
Then　he　remembered　the　effigy；　and　its　spines。
His　precautions　had　done　him　no　good。　Rogar　III’s　poison　was　coursing　through　his　veins。　He
knew　he　should　tell　the　others；　warn　them　in　case　he　went　crazy　like　Muldoon　had；　became　a　threat
to　them。　But　then　they　would　probably　have　left　him　behind；　to　die　on　his　back　like　Woods；　and　he
couldn’t　face　that。　Not　when　they　were　so　close　to　their　goal。　Not　when　he　was　so　close　to　a　chance
to　earn　his　name；　at　last。
He　would　earn　his　name。　Lorenzo　swore　that　to　himself。　He　didn’t　know　how—but　if　he　couldn’t
find　a　way　down　here　with　a　world　against　him；　then　where　could　he？　A　way　to　surrender　his　life　for
his　squad；　for　his　cause；　for　a　chance　to　be　remembered；　and　he　knew　he　wouldn’t　hesitate　this　time。
Because；　this　time；　he　had　nothing　to　lose。　This　time；　he　was　dying　anyway。
Might　as　well　go　out　in　a　blaze　of　glory。
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CHAPTER　SIXTEEN
Sergeant　Greiss　swore　under　his　breath。
The　orks’　mine　tunnel　had　opened　into　a　cave—and　Lorenzo　could　see；　from　the　lack　of　wooden
props　and　the　uneven　texture　of　the　rock　where　Storm’s　light　fell　upon　it；　that　it　was　natural。
Passages　snaked　from　the　cave　in　all　directions—ominous　black　holes　in　the　walls。
“Looks　like　the　greenskins　have　bust　their　way　into　a　whole　underground　complex；”　Greiss
grumbled。　“Could　spread　for　kilometres。”
“What　do　we　do　now；　sergeant？”　asked　Braxton。
Before　Greiss　could　answer；　Myers　let　out　a　“Ssshh；”　and　held　up　his　hand　for　silence。　A　second
later；　they　all　heard　it：　lumbering　footsteps；　echoing　from　the　walls　until　there　was　no　way　of
knowing　which　direction　they　came　from。
Storm　snatched　off　his　helmet；　snapped　off　the　light；　and　the　Jungle　Fighters　dispersed；
navigating　by　memory　in　the　total　darkness；　finding　nooks　into　which　they　could　squeeze。　Lorenzo
found　himself　in　the　mouth　of　a　narrow；　twisting　passageway；　and　feared　for　a　moment　that　it　was
along　this　very　route　that　the　orks　were　approaching。　Then　the　footsteps—two　sets；　he　estimated—
seemed　to　move　around　him；　and　he　saw　the　bobbing　beam　of　a　helmet　light；　and　then　there　were
two　hulking　shapes　in　the　cave；　striding　toward　the　exit　tunnel。
Then　the　Jungle　Fighters　were　upon　the　orks；　Storm　reaching　them　first；　leaping　onto　the　back　of
the　nearest　and　drawing　his　blade　across　its　throat。　Greiss　and　Braxton　crashed　into　the　second
creature；　staggered　it；　and　Lorenzo　lent　his　shoulder　to　their　efforts　and　it　fell；　three　knives　plunged
into　its　chest　and　stomach。
“You　notice　something？”　asked　Armstrong；　as　the