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。
28
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；
30
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 fever’s broken； so he could be alright。 Best leave him to
sleep it off； and hope he’s seeing things more clearly when he comes to。 How’d it go with the
gretchin？”
“We got ’em；” said Storm； baring his white teeth。 “They won’t be taking any tales back to their
greenskin masters。”
Commissar Mackenzie came crashing through the foliage then； Guardsman Braxton at his heels。
“What the hell was all the screaming about？” the young officer demanded to know。 “And who let
off a bomb？ Where’s the point in our chasing down gretchin left； right and centre if some idiot just
broadcasts our position to every ork on the planet？”
“Couldn’t be helped； sir；” said Dougan。
31
“And the jungle would have deadened the sound of the explosion；” added Donovits。 “I’d say it
couldn’t have been heard more than； say—”
“I don’t want to know； trooper！” snapped Mackenzie。 “This operation is turning into a shambles。
Where’s Greiss？” He turned； and jumped to find that the sergeant had appeared noiselessly at his
shoulder。 Recovering himself； he snarled； “Sergeant Greiss！ Is it too much to expect you to exercise
a modicum of restraint over your men？ God…Emperor knows； I wasn’t expecting much—but so far
I’d have been better leading a squad of orks into the jungle。 At least they have some semblance of
self…control！”
Greiss glared at Mackenzie as if he was an acid grub he’d just found eating into his boot。 The
rest of the Catachans—somehow without seeming to move； just shifting their stances—formed into
a vague circle around the commissar。 No words had been spoken； but something had definitely
changed。
Lorenzo caught Braxton’s eye。 The Validian didn’t know what was happening—but he couldn’t
have been more aware at that moment that this was Catachan turf； that he and the commissar were
the outsiders here。 Instinctively； he shrank back against Mackenzie。 He looked pale。
Mackenzie himself appeared to keep his cool； but Lorenzo could see the apprehension in his
eyes。
Sergeant Greiss broke eye contact； took a half…step back； and just like that the threat was
dissipated。 “Well done； men；” the sergeant barked。 “A bit of bad luck； Sharkbait here going crazy
when he did—but it couldn’t have been helped； and you dealt with it well。”
Greiss wasn’t normally so effusive with his praise—it wasn’t usually needed—so Lorenzo knew
his words hadn’t been for the Jungle Fighters’ benefit。 Mackenzie looked irritated； but he didn’t
protest。
It was only when Greiss detailed Woods to pick up the unconscious and bound Muldoon that the
commissar broke his silence with an outraged splutter。 “What the hell are you thinking； Greiss？ That
trooper has given us away once already。 We can’t afford to let it happen again。”
“And it won’t。” Greiss promised。 “I’ll see to it。”
His tone left no room for argument； but Mackenzie didn’t take the hint。 “That man is diseased。
He might be infectious。 Even if he isn’t； what can we do for him out here？”
“You got anything at the camp that could hel