Project Hyperion (A Kaiju Thriller) (Kaiju #4)

“A lot more,” I say.

He shakes his head slowly, but then his eyes widen. “We’ve got an M-32 grenade launcher!” He leads us to the back of the second Humvee and opens the hatch. Inside is what looks like an oversized black briefcase. He punches in a combination and lifts the lid to reveal a grenade launcher with six barrels, like an oversized revolver. He lifts it out and hands it to me. I have no idea how to fire the weapon, but he says, “She’s fully loaded and the safety is off.”

Just aim and shoot, I think.

Collins reaches into the back of the vehicle and takes out an MP5 assault rifle. She checks the magazine, stuffs it back in and slaps the cocking lever forward.

“Here it comes!” someone shouts.

I turn and see a tree-sized leg step out of the shaded woods. The taloned, four-toed foot drops down on the far side of the highway, pulverizing the blacktop. On its hind legs, the monster now stands a colossal eighty feet tall. It leans forward and looks down at the throng of men, bravely holding their ground. Its large, human eyes scan back and forth, perhaps a little confused by all the action, or just indecisive about who to eat first. The membranes on its neck flare bright orange, and I see a few men adjust their aim.

A flash of understanding strikes. The creature glowed hot white in the infrared. It’s not cold or warm blooded, it’s hot blooded. And when that orange blood hits the open air, it combusts! When Collins was shooting the creature from the helicopter, a single round struck and pierced that membrane. The resulting spray of blood must have ignited. That’s what caused the explosion. “Aim for the legs!” I shout as loud as I can.

The men adjust their aim down again. Thank God.

The monster brings its second leg out of the woods and takes a step forward.

Close enough, I think.

“Fire!” I shout.

A hundred men with assault rifles open fire on the creature’s legs. The sound is like thunder. The bright orange tracer fire glows hot, like a fireworks finale. Then the five heavy machine guns open fire, their roar drowning out the hundred other firing weapons.

The creature roars with surprise, or pain, I’m not sure. But it stumbles back.

The trees behind the creature are shredded by missed rounds, but I think most are finding their mark. With a higher-pitched roar, the monster snaps at the air, biting nothing. Its arms flail, striking at invisible targets.

Collins steps up next to me and opens fire. That’s when I pull the trigger. With a dull poonk that’s quieter than any weapon currently being fired, the grenade launcher sends a single round sailing across the four lanes of highway. The grenade strikes the giant knee and explodes.

The monster shrieks and stumbles.

Men cheer.

I fire again.

And again. Striking the same leg two more times.

The monster raises its head to the sky. Its chest expands. Then it leans down, landing on its forelimbs. It opens its mouth and lets out a blast of sound that drops me to my knees—me and everyone else. My eyes clench shut. My hands go to my ears. And my insides quiver from the intensity of the sonic blast.

When I open my eyes again, just a second later, the monster has recovered. It rears back up onto two legs, steps forward and twists. The knowledge of what it’s doing is the only thing that saves my life. I shout, “Get down!” and tackle Collins and Humm to the ground.

There’s a crash, and I look up to see a Humvee pass by overhead. Then three more, pirouetting through the air like Ice Capades skaters. The long black tail, tipped with what looks like a six-foot-long, three-pronged blade, flashes over the roof of the fifth Humvee, cutting the gunner in half at the waist. The tail continues its deadly swipe, passing over the spot where we had been standing and continuing through the ranks of soldiers.

Those who are struck by the tail’s tip are simply cut down, their top halves flipping away with a spray of blood. The rest of the men caught in the tail’s path, struck by the meat of the thing, are sent flying—rag dolls with pulverized insides. The number of men suddenly dead is impossible to count, but since there are only three of us on this side of the fire line and maybe twenty on the far end, I’d guess the monster killed upwards of eighty men with the single strike.

I look to Collins, making sure she’s okay. “Collins.”

She groans and opens her eyes, which suddenly go wide.

Poonk!

I turn to find Humm firing the grenade launcher.

Up.

At the creature’s glowing neck.

Poonk!

Poonk!

At that same moment, I hear the distinctive high pitched whine of an A-10 Thunderbolt, renowned for its ability to decimate tanks. It comes in low behind the creature and opens fire with its powerful chain gun. Hot tracer rounds ricochet off the monster’s carapace.