#60 - The Heart of the Queen (Part 1)

“We're being overrun!” Sarah Kerrigan shouted into her NepConX250 attached to her utility helmet.

A few moments of deafening battle ensued, the vicious creatures beginning to break through the first line of defense. By god, how many of them were there? Bunkers crumbled, tanks went haywire. People died. So many people died; she couldn't help but watch in amazement and horror.

“Requesting immediate Dropship assistance,” she then breathed into her radio, a bit calmer than before.

A sloshing growl suddenly echoed to her immediate right. She whipped her head around to see one of them headed straight for her, in a full gallop. The C10-Canister Special Combat Rifle seemed to aim itself as Sarah took a hasty aim and fired at the creature. The finger-sized bullet punctured the thing between it's red eyes. It staggered from side to side for a few gruesome moments as thick, black blood streamed from the wound. It let out a pained bellow, then settled to the dusty floor.

Kerrigan turned back to the heart of the battle. Their base of operations was crumbling quickly. A marine standing at a mere twenty yards from her was launched into a nearby structure as a kind of crystallized mass of organic matter punched into his armor and tore at his flesh.

“Guys?” she said with a tone of muddled desperation in her vocality, “How about that assistance?”

She listened intently. No voice came out of the speaker end. No reassuring words that help was on the way.

More of their enemy poured into the front lines; a horrid mass of claws, teeth and spines slowly working their way through gunfire and explosive shot. The battle seemed to slow to a painful pace as she witnessed it, taking note of details. Towering giants, known as Ultralisks, plowed through buildings, their gargantuan tusks lacerating iron, concrete and steel as if it were wax paper. She gazed to her left quickly, reddish hair flowing in front of her face. Dozens of the smaller, slithering Hydralisks rose in formation. They stretched their heads and began spitting highly sharpened spines at the Terran opposition. The fine, serrated tips in the projectiles could pierce the firmest of armor and the sturdiest of weaponry. Accompanying them were the even smaller Zerglings. They stood only a mere few feet from the ground, about the size of a dog, but their sharpened claws and fangs compensated for their small stature.

She continued to watch in horrified amazement as their enemy, known only to them as the Zerg, toppled structure after structure. Gunshots rang, cannons ignited the skies, people screamed. She looked briefly upward. No Dropships. The last of their defense is all that remained; they weren't going to hold out much longer. Kerrigan fired at some close enemies; the time taken from observation lasting only a few moments.

“Jim? Arcturus? What the hell is going on up there?” she breathed into the transmitter, attempting to keep her voice as even as possible.

Still, nothing. Strangling fear began panged at her spine as she now witnessed their final line of defense broken. Still, she fought alongside her fellow Terrans as the monstrosities cascaded into the heart of their base camp.

Building after Terran building crumbled before the overwhelming masses of their enemies. As the Command Center fell, Sarah, a squad of four marines and a maintenance worker known as an SCV were all that remained upon the blood-caked battlefield. The SCV was the first to die as the Zerg quickly advanced upon them. . A group of Hydralisks shot their destructive spit at the machine, it immediately breaking down and the poor man inside was left only to drown in gasoline and machine fluid . Sarah fired her weapon desperately, but little was achieved. When one of the slithering beasts would fall, ten more would rise to take its place. An Ultralisk shot out a prong-like tongue from somewhere under it's tusks and grappled two of the squad, their kicking and screaming bodies quickly becoming lost to what lay beneath the beast's tusks. She cringed as she heard the metallic crunching sounds of the colossal thing chewing her comrades.

#59 - The Escape (exerpt from The Mechanical Heart trilogy)

I heaved the both of us through the window, toward the least fiery corner of the opening. The fresh air was a moment of relief for my lungs, just as I came to the realization that I hadn't looked out the area I had just stepped from.

Cool air rushed past my face as we fell downward, coming in contact with the roof a few feet below. I ignored the fresh pain in my back and dug my heels into the roofing. We were still sliding; how far did the roof go out before we fell tumbling from the second story? Then, I felt my feet drop from under me, the rest of my body following.

It was only a moment, but the fear and anger I felt coupled with the adrenaline shooting through my veins made it feel like a forever downward spiral into nothingness. I hit the ground first, Paul's body coming in direct contact with mine an instant later. I felt my breath instantly knocked from me, along with the unprecedented cracking noise in my side and an explosive pain that threatened to deter me from my mission.

“We got to go,” I managed to say with heaving gasps that sent more pain throughout my body, “Paul, if you can hear me, please roll.”

Amazingly, the weight was taken from me in an instant. Paul had reacted; he was now lying beside me upon the cold dirt-caked ground. Ignoring every protesting muscle within my body, I sat up. I clutched at my side as a searing ache almost caused me to scream and give away our position. I sat there for a few moments, my breath slowly returning to me in waves. I placed my free hand beneath me and pushed myself to my knees, a slight dizziness filling my head. I attempted to shake away the unwelcome feeling, turning my attention to the man now lying beside me.

“Almost there,” I said to him while grabbing a hold of his arms again, “Grab onto me, Paul.”

This side of the building was mercifully unlit. I took a quick look of my surroundings while forcing Paul's body against me. It appeared to be the side of the house; the adjacent home a mere few feet across the way from where we were. I heaved Paul up, my legs shaking a bit from exertion and pain suppression as I lurched forward, toward the front of the building. I paused at the end of the wall, my breath slowing as I peered around the corner. Two men stood before the house, their backs illuminated by the glowing orange of fire that now consumed a large portion of the structure. They were hunched over, appearing to be doing something with the ground in the front yard.

I slowly maneuvered my free hand to my holster. White-hot rage filled me, threatening to give away my position with shaking fingers. I took a moment to calm myself, my eyelids sliding over smoke-burned and stinging eyes. I freed my pistol from it's hold, drawing back the hammer with slow, deliberate movements. My body edged outward, my arm extending forward with the gun pointing at the nearest one. I took aim; my side throbbed with pain, my muscles screaming from exhaustion and exertion of carrying a man twice my size.

The first shot caught the back square in the back of his head. He settled forward, likely dead before the rest of him settled into the ground. The other instantly reacted, but he was already too late. The second shot went a bit wide, catching him on the right collarbone. His scream fell upon two sets of uncaring, unconscious, rage-filled ears.

I fired twice more, striking him somewhere in the middle. His body was failing him. He stumbled and fell, his chest heaving in the glowing firelight. I stumbled over to him, Paul in tow.

“I was just doing my job!” I heard him scream as I approached, “Please don't-”

I let the barrel of the gun fall to his forehead and pulled the trigger. I continued walking onward, toward the black vehicle we had originally come from. It seemed akin to hours ago at this point.

“Paul, your keys,” I said to him, shaking my own body a bit to rouse him.

I looked to see his fingers gesture to an area on his right side. I reached down, finding a pocket. My fingers brushed against slightly warmed metal. I tore the object from his coat, jammed it into the car's lock, and turned. My side screamed for attention as I repositioned Paul in my arms to open the door, then laid him in the seat. I made my way toward the other side of the vehicle, taking a moment to look back at the house. The unmistakable shapes of people were beginning to flood the front yard, one running from a newly opened door from the neighboring house. It wouldn't be long before they took notice of my presence.