Eight days...
Chips of ice flew from the spiked all-weather tires as Sergeant Arn barreled across the tundra to the base of the mountain range. In the caves there he would find his target, and his months of hunting would be over. He could almost taste victory. It wouldn’t be long now.
He slammed on his brakes, bringing his bike to a skidding halt in front of an ice encrusted cave mouth. The thin line of smoke coming from inside the cave would have been invisible to the naked eye, but to the autosenses in his helmet it was a beacon drawing him in. As the rest of his squad pulled into position he stepped off of his bike. Black armor contrasted starkly against white snow as he stepped forward.
“Marcus Allexus,” Arn bellowed. “I have hounded you for six months across this entire sector. Your days of running are at an end. Tell me the location of your Fallen master, and I will spare you the torment of the Interrogator Chaplain.”
The man who exited the caves was small, even for an unaugmented human. His eyes had a wild, crazed look to them, and they darted back and forth. His skin had an unhealthy sheen to it, and he was sweating despite the cold. His stomach was distended to a point that it looked like it was about to burst. When he finally spoke, his voice had a distant quality, as if he was no longer concerned about the world around him. As if there were more pressing matters to attend to.
“So, Ravenwing, you finally found me. It only took you half a year to run me to ground. Me, a single insignificant human.” He spat the word in disgust. “I expected better. Even from the blinded sons of the treacherous Lion.”
Faster than the eye could track Arn’s bolt pistol was in his hand. It took every ounce of discipline not to spatter the traitor’s brains across the snow. “I will make sure the Chaplain’s take their time with you scum. You are coming with us.” He looked to the other two bikers in his squad. “Reebus, Coran, restrain him. We’ll take him back to the rendezvous point and get off this frozen rock.”
As the bikers moved to flank Marcus he continued staring at the Sergeant. “You will not be leaving this Planet Ravenwing. My former master chose it as our meeting place for good reason.”
Arn lowered the bolt pistol slightly. “Former master? What do you mean?”
The man put his hands on his distended stomach. “I no longer serve the Dark Angel you are pursuing. You see, I have a family now.”
There was a blur from the depths of the cave. Even with his enhanced senses Arn could barely see what happened. Four creatures burst from the cave, their bluish white skin blending in perfectly with their surroundings. Coran’s helmet erupted in a shower of gore as diamond hard spikes erupted from the back of it. Reebus tried to draw his bolt pistol but two of the creatures were on him before he could clear his holster. They bore him to the ground and Arn could hear him scream as they tore open his armor. He finally got a good look at his attacker as the final one assaulted him.
Genestealers.
With his bolt pistol already drawn Arn managed to get a single shot off. The explosive bolt shot into the genestealers open maw, exploding at the top of its esophagus and nearly decapitating it. Its corpse skidded to a stop right where he had been standing, but the Sergeant was already on the run.
He leapt onto his bike and slammed the ignition rune. The throaty engine roared to life. The rear tire threw up a spray of ice chunks as he rocketed onto the tundra. He risked a quick glance behind him and was shocked to see the genestealers scant feet behind his bike, their claws snapping shut inches from his rear tire. He opened up the throttle the whole way and slowly, agonizingly the genestealers began to fall behind.
Arn flicked the activation switch on the homing beacon mounted on his bike. Accounting for the amount of time it would take for the signal to reach his ship and his brethren to muster for battle it would be almost eight days until reinforcements arrived.
All he had to do was survive for eight more days…