Chapter 15 Dead

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For several seconds that Saltek just stood there, unsure of how to deal with this new threat. Then, at a barked command from somewhere in their midst, they charged forward.

The howling, charging, enraged mass of alien flesh stampeded towards Malachi, and Tamar screamed for him to do something, anything. He couldn't just stand there and hope to survive, yet he just stood there, his head down as if he were studying something on the ground. His head snapped up only when the first wave of the advancing horde was upon him.

His first movement took Tamar's breath away. No, not because it was spectacular, though it was that. The air was punched from her lungs because she was standing too close when his single hand shot forward, impacting with the lead Saltek. With his palm flat, the solid thud of skin on armor didn't punch through the creature, instead it sent a visible shock-wave out in every direction. The pressure wave swept over Tamar, the over pressure sucking the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping for breath.

As bad as it was for her, for the Saltek horde, it was far worse. In a shower of body parts, the lone Saltek flew backwards, its figure disintegrating piece by bloody piece until with a last squelching impact the head smashed into the right leg of one of the hordes, knocking the howling soldier to the ground where it continued to scream in rage and pain.

Taking advantage of the space he'd opened; Malachi grabbed Tamar and threw her as if he was tossing a baseball around the infield after a strike out. Only instead of flying a few yards, she was propelled up over a stone wall and into an old rusting dumpster on the other side. It was filled with nothing more than old newspapers, but she had the feeling he'd have thrown her in no matter what it had contained.

"Is she safe?" Malachi leapt into the air.

"Yes, you're clear."

"Good." A split second of concentration was all it took for Malachi to ignite the surface of his suit. It sizzled and popped, fire pouring off him in crimson waves. With his suit ignited, he dove straight into the heart of the horde.

Tamar's nostrils were assaulted with one of the most rancid smells she'd ever known. It was burnt flesh, that much she knew, but from nothing she knew of. Leaping out of the dumpster, she landed on its lip and sprang again. Coming down on the top edge of the stone wall, and became witness to the most violent scene she'd ever seen.

Saltek charged forward while others dropped to their knees and heaved huge rifles on tri-pods into position. The energy weapons were so ponderous only a few could be brought to bare. Dark purple packets of energy filled the space between the charging aliens and Malachi, yet they did no damage. Slim, razor-sharp blades were created with a thought. They congealed from his suit and slid into open palms. Bringing them both up to guard, he parried the first volley of shots, deflecting several into the aliens closest to him. They went down in showers of blood and gore.

 Moving with blinding speed, his blades disappeared and ten twelve inch needles took their place, each growing from the end of one of his fingers. He caught the downward arch of one of the aliens' two-handed swords and rammed the talons of his other hand deep into its chest. Blood fountained into the air as it spewed out of the alien's huge mouth. It splattered over Malachi even as he hoisted the body and spun so that the next barrage of incoming fire was taken by his shield of meat.

Dropping the body, he threw both arms back and let forth with a scream that could be seen as well as heard. It distorted the air in front of him, kicking up dirt and debris in an ever widening cone to his front. The Saltek caught in that cone went down, clutching the sides of their heads, thick orange blood running from every orifice in the skulls. The sonic assault ended when three aliens grabbed Malachi from behind, bringing him to the ground in a tangle of legs and arms.

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