Chapter 94

Chapter Ninety-Four

It wasn’t quite the stampede of hooves Connor imagined a herd of Earth animals would make, but with easily fifty of the giant bugs tearing up chunks of moss as they skittered headlong toward him, he thought he could feel the ground vibrating.

Their coppery stench preceded them, carried by the wind.

That was the smell of death.

He swallowed and took the camp in with a desperate glance. Bright orange canvas flapped, eerily louder than the murderous aliens.

But there was no cover anywhere, no defensible position. Whoever had chosen the site for the camp hadn’t understood how critical that was. Or, Connor admitted, they hadn’t understood the threat this world presented.

He waved everyone in tight in front of the endmost tent. “Form here! Firing ranks!”

It was the last thing he would ever want to do in a regular firefight, especially if an enemy had explosives of some sort. Pack the targets in close, and you made things easier for the other side.