November 16, 2010
C.O.G. Journal Log - Dennis Gali
It's a bright night. No stars, just a grayish look covering the entire sky like a blanket. Winter is here and the snow is falling. Finally able to take a break from the fight. Life's been good to us. We're still here. Still fighting. And still kickin' ass. But I still can't shake it... That fear every time it begins, it still feels as if it's my first time going into battle 4 years ago. And I still can't shake the one memory. That memory will never be forgotten. The unbelievable realization... of almost dying.
"Damn... It's been 2 years..." Staring at the ground with half a grin, Walter looks up at me and I can see the expression as if he's flashed back to that day. It's been two years since that night. Remembering that chilling fear of almost meeting death.
They came out of the night like a wave of endless shadows howling their devilish cries for blood... and it was just the two of us. It always has been. Turning just in time to catch the glimpse of 4 drones moving on his 3. He's so focused on telling me to open fire he doesn't even hear the footsteps getting closer. I pop the first 2 drones with my lancer, "Contact! Right side! Moving on your position!". He gears up and I focus back on the ones who have now surrounded me.
"Aw shit... Muhfucca'z want some of the big brown guy? Bring it!" Drawing my lancer, ready and waiting. I knew I only had 3 mags left and I could see the ammo supply up ahead. I look at my first target's slobbering ugly face and I fire. His head cocks back in a blur. He falls as the troops still rush in. "that's right bitch-nigga!"
1...2...3...4...5...16...17...18...30...32...34...36. They drop like flies, pulling head shots like its St. Patrick's Day. Just what I've been trained for.
I'm about to load my next mag when I see it land behind him... I knew I couldn't warn him in time. I drop my mag and run to grab it, throwing it with all the strength I had into the horde. The sound and pressure fills my ears as it explodes half-way in the air blowing me off my feet and 12 yards back. 2 seconds later and we would've been a pile o' meat. I look up and see him still standing, tearing them to pieces with his chainsaw, unfazed by the shrapnel slicing him up. "Heh... fuckin' show off..." I mutter as I get my ass up and keep firing.
"Walter! Last mag! I'm low on ammo!" I could see the supply 30 yards from my position, but I couldn't move. They had me pinned behind an old car.
"Move to resupply! I'll cover you!". He fires into the horde and I see my chance. Running without a second thought, slamming myself next to the box. Just when I tear it open to grab more ammo for my sniper and lancer, I hear the shriek of wretches from above. Wretches are weak when on their own, but deadly in large packs and their high-pitched scream can make any gear bleed from the ears. "They don't plan ambushes... they're too stupid..." I look up and see the fucker behind it all... "It's KANTUS!" only to be muted out as my brother's frag went off. Damn it... He's leading them. This can't be good. I loaded a mag and started firing... but I was too late.
They landed on me tearing at my armor holding me down. I couldn't get free and I felt them getting closer to my skin. Am I going to die here? What the hell have I been fighting for? My arms are getting numb. losing too much blood. "Walter! HEL..." I was cut off by the pressure of their bodies pounding on my throat. One slashed at my eye giving me a huge gash, but I could still see. I saw that my brother was in trouble... A boomer was approaching him and he wasn't moving. He wasn't firing. He was just sitting there.
Shit! Was he down? No... his lancer is jammed. Shit... I could've cared less if it was only me goin' out, but not both of us. We were the last of our line. No more brothers left. Just us two... I can't deal with that shit!
I reach up and grab the throat of the closest one to me and I crush it like a leaf. The adrenaline is rushing, so I've gotta use it to my advantage. I hold the wretch and swing it around knocking them down one by one. Finally I grab my lancer and chainsaw through'em like a knife through butter. I load my sniper rounds and find Kantus as he hurls an ink frag at me. "Aw hell naw!" as I turn my sniper rifle around like a bat and hit it back at him. He screams a chant... but it's too late. It barrels right into his mouth and I fire my pistol straight on, exploding the horrid shit smelling ink down his throat, leaving him falling dead before impact... and without a head. Signature of perfection.
I turn to see Walter as he fires his pistol into the stomach of the beast. I hop over the bodies of wretches and post up behind a car. I pull my rifle up as best I could with my arms still numb. But I was in still in trouble. I couldn't pull the trigger! My damn fingers weren't moving! I could see in my scope the look on my brother's face. He's given up. He's not shooting anymore realizing it's hopeless. I pan over to the Boomer as it was getting ready to unleash hell on him... and at that moment I felt a small sensation in my finger. It wasn't much, but it was enough to do it. Within a split second I squeezed my baby softly and it delivered the sweetest crisp sound I hadn't heard in weeks...
Screeching across the air right into the eye of the beast, the bullet split his head apart jarringly as it tore through every tissue and bone in his skull. "Got'em..." I chuckled a little knowing that it was close, but enough.
I watched the relief fill Walter's face as the Boomer's body dropped to the ground. The feeling in my arms came back and I picked off the last few of the locusts with head shots for target practice, yelling victoriously, "Booyah MuuhFucca!"
I head down to his position and we continued on after gathering more supplies. It never gets old ya know... That feeling you get when the odds are against you and yet you still come out on top.
The gash over my eye has become a scar now and we've been through more battles than ever. Walter has sharpened his skills and my baby, though roughed up through hell, is still as good as ever. The snow has covered us in white, but the fire is still going. We've been on our own for 2 years now without contact for several months. It'll be another year before we reach the grounds for the launch of the final battle and that's when we get to meet our new squad. I wasn't sure of the name, though I thought he said Delta before he cut out. I take a hit of my lucky thinkin' about how life use to be and as I do, I hear trembling strange roars off in the distance. It startles me. It sounds like them, but more ferocious.
"Bro...They know we're here."
"I know..." I reply. "But something's different...They don't sound the same..." In the distance, I see what I've prayed to never come across again. Something far worse than any locust horde.
"Bro... I pray that I'm wrong, but it looks like... maybe 80 or 90 so far and they got ol' grannies too..." Our own nickname for the berserkers.
"Damn it... is that all? Why you worryin'? We got this..." He tells me, and normally I would agree... but this time it was different. This time it wasn't the horde...
"That's not the problem bro..." I said, with a small crackle in my voice. He knew what I had seen and his head sunk.
"Bro..." I said in the softest voice. "They're Lambent..."
We came across lambent 4 years ago in our first fight. 40 of'em, and all 12 of our cogs were taken out in minutes. We are the only survivors of Kiva Squad. I saw the fear hit him deep... It hit me too... We both knew what it meant... That this might be the last time. The last time we see our way to the end.
I take the last hit of my 'lucky', inhale deep and make my wish. The sounds are getting closer. We stand up and give each other that last look as they close in surrounding us. We post back to back and prepare ourselves for the worst.
"Yo 'D'... We did good..."
"Yeah bro... We did..."
"... I know... They're here..." We raise our Lancers, yelling out our last battle cry as they rush in, "LET'S DO IT MUUUH FUUCCA'Z!"
-Maybe this is it. Maybe this is a good day to die...-