I could see a large group of them approaching through the smudged red stains of Danielson's blood on the glass window of the machine-gun turret. Danielson lay crumpled in a folded, broken mess below the turret, the wires of the destroyed control box dangling over him. As the Flyer banked hard to the left my turret-gun spun wildly, sending me slamming into the opposite wall, tumbling back over Danielson's body that slid along the thin compartment of the passageway, all shredded and mangled.
The way the new flyers had been designed, it was impossible to avoid getting splattered with your best friends insides if they got hit in-flight. The small diamond shaped cockpit opened up directly to the our claustrophobic little rectangular passageway, host to the two machine-gun turrets on either side that protruded from large and exposed triple paned windows. Another few feet and our passageway became a flat wall, like a dead end, save for a tiny square crawlspace at the bottom that led back to PFC Taricani swearing and sweating like a bull in the tail-gunner turret at the way back.
I tried to get up off the floor as the flyer banked down for a moment then slammed upward. Danielson's loading computer had overworked, causing it to explode all over him, ripping apart his stomach and torso, and now my body slid briefly down the compartment towards the cockpit, slipping in his freezing, drying blood, rolling around on his insides that caked the floor like cartoon sausages. I struggled to stand, desperate to get back to the gun.
I could hear the high-pitch whining of the bugs wings as they ducked and swooped around the flyer, large dark blurs screeching and clattering, every few seconds another one slamming its enormously strong body into the flyers sides. PFC Taricani, the tailgunner, buried back in his private booth, shouted over the sounds of the flyers humming engines, unloading his machine gun on the charging bugs, mandibles biting out at the guns long, hot barrells.
Corporal Namek in the front turret next to the pilot, Reaves, fired madly at them as they raced past the large windshield of the cockpit, their wings whining like drag-engines, their long skinny legs thrashing out in whip-kicks as the soared by.
Somehow I managed to stand, reaching out to the guns handle desperately, pulling myself back into the turret seat and strapping in with a heavy Click, just as the flyer suddenly rolled sharp and violently to the left, Taricani now screaming at the top of his lungs in the back, the guns having stopped. Reaves screamed something about losing control, and as we spun and spun and spun to the left, I could hear the bugs chewing their way inside, through the aluminum tail of the flyer, all their teeth sounding like heavy hailstorm, like ten thousand bricks being dropped onto a tin roof.
The breach alarm erupted with high frequency shrill, red lights beating against the cobalt walls, Danielsons blood now frozen all over them in tiny clusters of dots and small trails.
I unclipped the harness straps and reached for the parachute that hung, bolted into the side of the passageway. Corporal Namek came rushing back, his oxygen mask dangling, his own blood frozen to half of his head and face. He shouted something to me as the flyer continued to spin out of control, both of us ducking, hovering over the escape hatch, PFC Taricani in the tail now screaming out in pain as the bugs presumably started to rip his limbs apart. Namek buckled the front of his choot-pack and placed both hands on teh hatch handle, heaving upwards as hard as he could as I slipped my shoulders into my own choot.
The hatch lid came bursting open and Namek dissapeared, dropping through the square hole. I clipped my harness as one of the larger bugs crashed directly through the window, slamming into Reaves in the pilot seat. Reaves kicked out, arms punching and flailing, as the bigs teeth started to nash and slice and suck and spit and chew him away.
I Jumped from the flyer, the slipstream heaving me head over heels, all the air in my body sucked out with the ferocity of the blow. Tumbling through the air i could see the flyer, burning now, the bugs swarming it even as it fell downwards. I pulled the ripchord and shot upwards as another flyer flew about a hundred feet over me, all guns firing.
Below me i could see Namek, floating peacefully towards the ground in the very far distance. I prayed i would make it as i listened to the terrible whining of the wings.
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