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Mackenzie；　trying　to　conceal　himself　behind　a　blossoming　nettle　plant。
Guardsman　Braxton　caught　on；　and　ducked　under　cover　himself。
More　footsteps；　and　the　rustling　of　leaves。　Whatever　was　out　there；　they　were　coming　closer。
Eight　or　nine　of　them；　Lorenzo　now　estimated。　Too　small；　too　nimble；　to　be　the　muscular；　lumbering
orks。　Gretchin；　most　likely。　Genetic　cousins　to　the　orks—smaller；　weaker；　subservient；　but　far　more
cunning。　If　they　realised　they　were　outnumbered；　they　were　likely　to　scatter　and　run；　take　word　to
their　masters。
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There　was　no　urgency　to　their　movements。　Chances　were；　they　didn’t　know　they　had　enemies
nearby。　The　gretchin　were　probably　just　out　foraging—but　they　might　get　lucky。　Thick　as　the　jungle
was；　they　wouldn’t　see　the　Catachans’　trail　of　severed　tendrils　and　uprooted　plants　unless　they
stumbled　right　onto　it。　It　sounded　to　Lorenzo；　though；　like　they　were　within　a　bloodwasp’s　length　of
doing　just　that。
Suddenly；　somebody　slammed　into　him　from　behind。
Lorenzo　was　taken　by　surprise；　winded。　No　mean　feat—but　then　this　attack　had　come　from　the
last　direction　he’d　expected。　From　a　comrade；　a　man　he’d　entrusted　with　his　life　countless　times；　and
who　was　now　bearing　him　down　into　the　dirt；　eyes　ablaze　with　madness；　a　black　knife　raised　to
strike　at　Lorenzo’s　throat。
Muldoon　was　trying　his　best　to　kill　him。
And　he　was　screaming　with　incoherent　fury　as　he　did　so—a　sound　that　could　hardly　have　failed
to　reach　the　gretchin’s　ears。
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CHAPTER　FIVE
Muldoon　was　bigger　and　stronger　than　Lorenzo；　and　certainly　heavier。　Lorenzo　was　pinned　to　the
ground　by　his　weight；　the　jungle　grass　now　growing　above　his　head；　rough　against　his　neck　and　his
cheeks。　His　right　arm；　and　his　Catachan　fang　in　its　sheath；　were　trapped　under　Muldoon’s　knees。　All
he　could　do　was　strike　out　with　his　left　elbow；　knocking　his　attacker’s　knife　hand　aside。
Muldoon’s　night　reaper　was　smaller　than　Lorenzo’s　fang；　but　just　as　deadly。　Its　blade　was
triangular；　shaped　to　leave　a　large　entrance　wound　that　wouldn’t　clot—and　knowing　Muldoon　it　was
almost　certainly　poisoned。　Probably　with　the　venom　of　a　jungle　lizard。　He　was　always　the　first　of　the
Catachans　to　turn　a　deathworld’s　threats　to　his　advantage。
Lorenzo　kicked　out　with　both　feet；　trying　to　unseat　Muldoon；　but　Muldoon　knew　too　well　how　to
spread　his　weight　to　maintain　his　balance。　That　knife　hand　was　coming　around　to　strike　again。
Muldoon　loomed　over　Lorenzo；　his　unshaven　features　crazed　with　blind　fury；　his　eyes　wide；　white；
unblinking。　There　was　no　point　talking　to　him；　in　appealing　to　reason。　He　was　too　far　gone。　There
was　no　way　to　know　what　was　going　on　in　Muldoon’s　head；　what　those　insect　bites　were　making
him　see；　but　Lorenzo　would　have　laid　odds　he　didn’t　even　recognise　his　old　comrade　right　now。　He
was　fighting　his　own　daemons。
He　couldn’t　afford　to　hold　back。　He　found　Muldoon’s　face　with　his　free　hand　and　dug　his
fingernails　into　his　eyes。　Momentarily　blinded；　Muldoon　threw　back　his　head　and　let　out　an
uncharacteristic　howl　of　pain　and　rage。　Lorenzo　pulled　his　right　arm　free；　twisted　out　of　the　path　of　a
badly　aimed　knife　blow　and　seized　Muldoon’s　wrist　in　his　left　hand。　He　tried　to　shake　Muldoon’s
grip　on　his　weapon；　but　his　fingers　were　locked　around　its　haft。　As　Muldoon　lashed　out　again；
Lorenzo　guided　his　thrust　and　buried　the　night　reaper’s　blade　in　the　ground　beside　his　head。
If　Muldoon　had　been　in　his　right　mind；　he　would　have　abandoned　the　knife　until　it　was　safe　to
retrieve　it。　Working　on　primal　instinct；　however；　he　only　knew　the　night　reaper　was　a　part　of　him；
his　most　important　possession；　and　he　all　but　forgot　about　Lorenzo　as　he　struggled　to　reclaim　it　from
the　unyielding　earth。　Lorenzo　crawled　out　from　beneath　him；　and　tackled　him　side…on。　He　hurled
blow　after　blow　at　Muldoon’s　head；　praying　each　time　that　the　next　one　would　be　the　one　to　put　him
down；　knowing　he　was　made　of　sterner　stuff　than　that。　He　was　afraid　he　wouldn’t　be　able　to　stop
him　without　inflicting　a　lasting　injury。
Lorenzo　could　have　drawn　his　own　knife。　He　could　reach　it　now。　Against　any　other　foe；　he
would　have　done　it。　He　would　have　ended　this。
Blood　rushed　in　his　ears；　dulling　his　senses。　He　could　hear；　though；　that　the　rest　of　his　squad　had
broken　cover。　They　were　slashing　and　beating　their　way　through　the　jungle；　regardless　of　the　danger
from　hostile　flora　or　more　insect　hives；　toward　the　gretchin。　The　creatures　couldn’t　help　but　hear
them　coming；　and　they　turned　and　fled　back　up　the　path　they　had　cleared　for　themselves。
Muldoon　must　have　been　in　pain；　near　senseless；　but　he　was　fighting　back。　Lorenzo　would　have
expected　no　less　from　him。　Fortunately；　his　fever　slowed　his　reaction　time；　and　Lorenzo　ducked　the
worst　of　his　punches。
Help　came；　at　last；　in　the　form　of　Dougan。　The　older　trooper　knew　his　bionic　leg　slowed　him
down；　and　so　it　was　natural　that　he　should　have　been　the　one　to　stay　behind。　Dougan　came　up
behind　Muldoon；　and　tried　to　restrain　him　while　Lorenzo　knocked　the　wind　out　of　him　with　a　double
jab　to　the　solar　plexus。　He　remembered　head…butting　a　Validian　Guardsman　the　previous　day；
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finding　his　stomach　soft　and　yielding；　in　contrast；　hitting　Muldoon　was　like　driving　his　knuckles　into
rock。
Muldoon　let　out　another　animal　roar；　and　broke　Dougan’s　hold。　Lorenzo　held　back　for　an
instant；　waiting　to　see　what　he’d　do。　Muldoon　looked　wildly　from　one　of　his　comrades　to　the　other；
realising　he　was　surrounded。　His　eyes　flicked　towards　his　night　reaper；　still　buried　in　the　ground；　but
it　was　too　far　away。　Muldoon　reached　into　a　pouch　of　his　bandolier　and　pulled　out　a　demolition
charge。
b；　he　popped　out　the　charge’s　pin。
Lorenzo　and　Dougan　hit　him　at　the　same　time；　from　opposite　sides。　Dougan　was　trying　to
wrestle　the　charge　out　of　Muldoon’s　hand；　but　his　grip　was　as　resolute　as　that　on　his　night　reaper　had
been。　Lorenzo’s　survival　instinct　was　telling　him　to　dive　for　shelter；　but　he　wasn’t　about　to　abandon
Muldoon　while　there　was　the　slightest　chance　he　could　be　saved。　He　added　his　strength　to　Dougan’s；
taking　one　of　Muldoon’s　fingers　in　each　fist　and　forcing　them　open。
The　demolition　charge　dropped　out　of　Muldoon’s　hand。
Lorenzo　had　to　dive　for　it；　cradling　his　palms　to　give　the　explosive　device　the　softest　landing　he
could。　In　so　doing；　he　left　himself　exposed；　and　Muldoon　punished　him　with　a　brutal　kick　to　the
face。　Lorenzo　felt　his　lip　splitting。　He　rolled　with　the　blow；　and　was　back　in　the　grass　again；　his　own
blood　on　his　tongue。　But　Dougan　was　keeping　Muldoon　busy；　keeping　him　from　pressing　his
advantage；　and　Lorenzo　had　the　charge　with—he　estimated—less　than　a　second　to　spare　before　it
went　up。
He　hoisted　himself　onto　one　elbow；　took　a　fraction　of　that　second　to　orient　himself；　to　check
where　the　others　were；　then　he　put　all　the　strength　he　had　into　an　overarm　throw。　The　demolition
charge　seemed　to　have　barely　left　his　hand；　arcing　towards　the　treetops；　when　it　burst　and　showered
him　with　hot　shrapnel。
Dougan　had　locked　an　arm　around　Muldoon’s　throat；　and　was　holding　on　despite　his　kicking　and
screaming。　Lack　of　oxygen　had　an　effect　on　the　frenzied　trooper　at　last；　and　Muldoon’s　eyelids
fluttered　and　closed。　Dougan　waited　a　moment　longer　before　he　relinquished　his　grip。　A　flicker　of
regret　crossed　his　face　as　Muldoon’s　legs　buckled　beneath　him　and　he　crashed　into　the　undergrowth。
Lorenzo　and　Dougan　drew　their　Catachan　fangs；　cut　down　a　couple　of　thin　vines　and　bound　their
unconscious　comrade’s　wrists　and　ankles　with　them。　Lorenzo　yanked　the　night　reaper　out　of　the
ground；　and　respectfully　returned　it　to　its　sheath。　Even　with　Muldoon　in　this　state；　he　couldn’t
deprive　him　of　his　knife—though　he　ensured　that　his　tied　hands　couldn’t　reach　it。
Lorenzo　could　hear　las…fire　through　the　foliage；　and　he　knew　the　rest　of　his　squad　were　close　on
the　heels　of　their　prey。
Myers　and　Storm　were　the　first　back　from　the　gretchin　hunt。　They　were　followed　by　Donovits　and
Armstrong。
“How　is　he？”　asked　the　one…eyed　veteran；　nodding　in　Muldoon’s　direction。　He　must　have　seen
the　start　of　the　fight；　and　deduced　the　reason　for　it。
Dougan　shrugged。　“Hard　to　tell。　His