Dead Worlds (Necrospace Book 2) by Sean-Michael Argo Page A

but only stopped shooting long enough to clear a stove-pipe jam in his weapon. The rifle's action had clamped down on a spent shell's tip instead of ejecting it. The Reeker pointed his rifle at Spencer as the marine jerked his knife from the first enemy and turned to rush the shooter.
    The Reeker reacted swiftly, chopping his hand over the action of the rifle, dislodging the spent casing and sending it bouncing off of Spencer's faceplate. The impact was nothing, but it distracted Spencer for a split-second which gave the shooter enough time to lift his boot and stomp kick the marine.
    Spencer did not fall, but the force of the blow halted his charge and put him off balance. The Reeker fired his weapon at point blank range, his shots pounding into Spencer's armor mercilessly, dropping him to the ground in a shower of sparks, armor fragments, and blood.
    Samuel shouted and slammed his boarding knife through the back of the Reeker's neck, the point emerging through his throat. The Reeker kept firing wildly as blood fountained from the wound. Samuel used the handle of his knife to pull the shooter to the side before letting his corpse fall to the ground.
    On the other side of the shanty Samuel could see what appeared to be a sort of plaza filled with containers of every shape and size. Scattered among them was a group of roughly ten cor-sec troopers, most armed with pistols and shotguns, locked in a desperate shootout against Reekers who had taken up position all around them.
    It was little wonder the cor-sec troopers were being mowed down, having had no training in general battle tactics, let alone urban warfare specifics. They had allowed themselves to be driven from their entry point to this kill zone by a superior force who knew the terrain.
    This was Reekertown, and from what Samuel had seen as he and Spencer sought out the troopers, the marine knew that the Reeker defenders had been giving up ground to lure the cor-sec troopers deeper into the settlement. The cor-sec troopers had probably thought they were doing well, considering that there had been several Reeker corpses strewn about as the marines honed in on their position.  
    Spencer coughed up a mouthful of blood as he dragged himself over to the far wall. Once the Reekers realized enemies were flanking them, they began to fire into the shack.
    Samuel moved to the opposite wall, emptying an entire magazine in an attempt to suppress the Reeker shooters so that he and Spencer could recover. The marine knew that his comrade was wounded badly, but not so grievously that he couldn't be helped. Samuel crouched behind the splintered wood to reload and gave silent thanks for the metal sheeting that he could hear repelling many of the bullets sailing towards them.
     "So much for flanking them unawares!" shouted Samuel as he reached for his med kit and then slid the compact little box across the dirty floor within Spencer's reach.
     The wounded marine wasn't able to speak, though he did manage a weak thumbs up before cracking open the box and rummaging through it for the adrenal stims and nu-skin.
    Samuel could see that even at close range, Spencer's stout combat armor had blunted much of the firepower. Though his chest plate was intact, his more articulated abdominal plates had been horribly mangled. The Reeker had been using what looked like a homemade weapon and likely hand-crafted ammunition, so at worst Samuel figured a handful of rounds had made it through. Then again, as he knew all too well, it took only one well placed bullet to bring a marine down, often for good.
    Spencer's hands were shaking he worked quickly to hit himself with a series of injections meant to keep him going for a short while until the platoon medic arrived. Samuel had been the medic for several years, but since the recovery period after his spinal injury that duty had been shifted off to Holland, who had served admirably in keeping the bodies of Squad Aiken stitched together and the duty was