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“Let’smove , people!” the noncom said. “Raise the bait, and drop the bombs.”
Energy bolts stuttered upward as the winches whirred, the Helljumpers rose, and twenty grenades fell through the grating and into the mob below.Not fragmentation grenades, which would have thrown shrapnel up at the Helljumpers, but plasma grenades, which burned as the Flood congregated around them, then went off in quick succession. They vaporized most of the gibbering monsters and left the rest vulnerable to a round of gunfire and a second dose of grenades.
Ten minutes later word came down that the plugs were ready, and a larger combat team was sent down, followed by four teams of techs. The arches were blocked without incident, the shaft was sealed, and the grating was repaired. Not forever, but for the next day or so, and that was all that mattered.
The Master Chief arrived at the top of the gravity lift and fought his way through a maze of passageways and compartments, occupied by Flood and Covenant alike. He rounded a corner and saw an open hatch ahead. “It looks like a shuttle bay,” Cortana commented. “We should be able to reach the Control Room from the third level.”
The CNI link that Cortana followed served to deliver a new message from the Captain. The voice was weak, and sounded slurred.“I gave you an order, soldier, now pull out!”
“He’s delirious,” Cortana said, “in pain. We have to find him!”
. . . pull out! I gave you an order, soldier!
The thought echoed in what was left of Keyes’ ravaged mind. The invading presence descended. It could tell this one was nearly expended—no more energy left to fight.
It pushed in on the memories that the creature so jealously guarded, and recoiled at the sudden resistance, a defiance of terrible strength.
Keyes clutched at the last of his vital memories, and—inside his mind, where there was no one but he and the creature that attempted to absorb him—screamedNO!
Death, held in abeyance for so long, refused to rush in. Slowly, like the final drops of water from a recently closed faucet, his life force was absorbed.
With the memory of the voice to spur him on, the Master Chief made his way out onto a gallery over the shuttle bay, found that a pitched battle was in progress, and lobbed two grenades into the center of the conflict. They had the desired effect, but also signaled the human’s presence, and the Flood came like iron filings drawn to a magnet.
The Flood onslaught was intense, and the Spartan was forced to retreat into the passageway whence he had come in order to concentrate the targets, buy some time, and reload his weapons.
The pitched firefight ended, and he sprinted for the far side of the gallery and passed through an open hatch. He fought his way up to the next level of the gallery, where the Flood appeared to be holding a convention at the far end of the walkway.
The Chief was fresh out of grenades by then, which meant he had to clear the path the hard way. A carrier form exploded, and sent a cluster of combat forms crashing to the ground.