Storm Of Iron(科幻战争)-第14章

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lumpen　mass　lay　against　one　wall；　though　he　could　not　make　out　its　nature　in　the　gloom。　Hawke's　ears　rang　and　every　sound　his
movements　made　seemed　tinny　and　far　away。　He　shifted　position　once　more；　twisting　onto　his　back　and　gritting　his　teeth　as　pain
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
lanced　through　his　shoulder　again。　But　this　time　he　was　able　to　gain　more　of　a　sense　of　his　situation。　Something　heavy　lay　across
his　legs　and　as　he　twisted　around　he　could　see　it　was　the　shattered　carcass　of　the　vox…unit。
Hawke　dragged　himself　from　under　the　bulky　unit　as　the　events　of　…　how　long　ago　now？　…　came　trickling　back　into　his
consciousness。　He　propped　himself　up　against　one　wall；　exploring　his　injuries　with　his　good　arm　and　remembering　the　clatter　of
the　grenades　as　they　landed　inside。　He'd　gotten　one　into　the　sump；　but　the　other　had　detonated　before　he　could　reach。　Thank　the
Emperor　that　the　decrepit　equipment　installed　in　this　wretched　place　was　so　clunky　that　it　had　shielded　him　from　the　force　of　its
blast。
He　rubbed　his　arm；　feeling　the　pain　from　the　gash　at　his　shoulder　flare　anew　then　glanced　over　at　the　blackened　shape　across　the
bunker　from　him。　The　gleam　of　bone　and　the　hand　burned　into　a　claw　told　him　that　it　had　once　been　his　felloate；　Hitch。
Hawke　couldn't　feel　sorry　for　Hitch；　he　had　his　own　problems　to　deal　with　…　like　what　the　hell　was　he　supposed　to　do　now？　The
equipment　here　was　smashed　and　he　was　sure　that　there　was　no　way　he　could　fix　it。　He　was　stuck　near　the　top　of　a　fragging
mountain　with　no　sure　way　down；　and　his　arm　hurt　like　a　cast…iron　bitch。
With　a　groan　Hawke　pushed　himself　onto　wobbling　legs　and　leaned　back　against　the　wall　of　the　listening　post。　His　breath　hurt　in
his　chest　and　he　wondered　if　any　of　his　ribs　had　been　broken。　He　lurched　drunkenly　towards　a　gunmetal　footlocker；　partly
concealed　beneath　the　remains　of　the　assault　cannon　and　vox…console。　He　kicked　the　debris　clear　and　hauled　open　the　locker　lid；
lifting　out　a　canvas　rucksack　and　rummaging　around　inside。　He　lifted　out　a　small　medi…pack　and　ripped　it　open；　painfully
shrugging　off　his　uniform　jacket　and　undershirt。
As　he　doused　his　wound　in　analgesic　fluid　and　applied　a　pressure　swab　to　his　arm；　he　wondered　who　the　hell　had　attacked　him。
The　question　only　occurred　to　him　as　his　thoughts　became　less　disjointed　and　confused。　He　hadn't　had　much　of　a　look　at　them；　but
whoever　they　were　they　were　enormous。　He'd　had　a　fleeting　impression　of　iron…grey　vastness；　too　bulky　to　be　anything　but　a
Space　Marine。
Hawke　paused　in　his　ministrations　as　the　breath　caught　in　his　throat。
Space　Marines…
He'd　seen　Space　Marines　a　few　times　…　when　he'd　been　unlucky　enough　to　pull　a　tour　at　the　Hope　and　had　watched　them　march
from　their　armoured　gunships。　At　first　he'd　been　in　awe　of　their　stature；　longing　to　ask　one　of　them　about　his　life；　the　battles　he'd
fought　and　the　places　he'd　seen。　But　their　stoic　demeanour；　martial　bearing　and　enormous　guns　had　made　it　clear　that　to　do　so
would　probably　be　the　gravest　and　last　mistake　he'd　ever　make。
Still；　there　was　something　about　the　glimpse　he'd　had　of　the　anonymous　warrior　that　caused　him　to　shiver　in　sudden　fear。　He　was
like　no　Space　Marine　Hawke　had　ever　seen　before。　For　all　their　arrogant　superiority；　none　of　them　had；　even　when　they　deigned　to
glance　his　way；　chilled　him　with　such　ancient　malevolence。　This　was　something　else　entirely。
A　wry　smile　creased　Hawke's　ash…streaked　features　as　he　suddenly　realised　that　his　desire　for　action　had　been　granted　in　the　most
concrete　way　possible。　He　had　come　eye…to…eye　with　the　enemy　and　was　still　alive。　The　puzzle　of　why　his　attackers　had　let　him
live　was　solved　when　his　gaze　fell　once　more　on　the　body　against　the　wall。　They'd　seen　Hitch's　corpse　and　figured　it　for　his。　He
laughed；　the　pitch　a　little　too　high。
'Well；　Hitchy　boy；'　giggled　Hawke；　'looks　like　you　managed　to　do　something　useful　with　your　life　after　all。'
Like　most　people　had　throughout　Hawke's　life；　the　enemy　had　underestimated　him　and　he　felt　a　sudden　anger　rise　up　in　him。　He
was　a　soldier；　damn　it；　and　he'd　make　sure　these　bastards　knew　it。
Cradling　his　arm　close　to　his　chest；　he　fashioned　a　crude　sling　with　bandages　from　the　medi…pack　and　dumped　the　contents　of　the
rucksack　onto　the　floor；　tossing　aside　items　that　were　just　extra　weight　and　loading　up　with　anything　that　looked　useful；　not　that
much　had　survived　the　explosion。　He　stuffed　as　many　ration　packs　as　he　could　find　into　his　pack　as　well　as　a　couple　of　plastic
bottles　of　hydration　capsules。　He　checked　his　uniform　jacket　for　detox　pills；　sighing　in　relief　as　he　felt　the　container　in　his　inside
pocket。　Without　them；　he　might　as　well　put　a　bullet　through　his　brains　right　now　as　the　poisons　within　the　atmosphere　would　cause
him　to　sicken　within　the　day　unless　he　took　the　purgatives　and　cleansing　chemicals　the　Adeptus　Mechanicus　Biologis　distilled　and
manufactured　for　the　soldiers。　They　were　perhaps　the　foulest　things　Hawke　had　ever　tasted；　but　if　they　kept　him　alive；　then　he
guessed　he　could　bear　it。　He　didn't　have　too　many　left；　though…
He　rummaged　around　the　locker；　pulling　out　a　battered　respirator　kit　and　stuffing　it　in　the　rucksack。　The　oxygen　level　inside　was
just　over　half…full；　but　it　would　come　in　handy　if　he　got　caught　in　one　of　the　frequent　dust　storms　that　lashed　the　mountains。
Hawke　grinned　as　he　pulled　out　a　portable　vox…unit　from　the　bottom　of　the　locker；　though　calling　it　portable　was　a　joke。　The　bulky
battery　packs　weighed　a　kilo　each　and　the　vox　itself　would　take　up　over　half　the　space　in　his　pack。　Still；　he'd　heard　it　said　that
there　was　nothing　more　dangerous　on　the　battlefield　than　a　man　with　a　means　of　communication。
Personally；　he　would　rather　have　a　lascannon；　but　such　was　life。
He　emptied　Hitch's　and　Charedo's　packs；　searching　for　anything　useful　amongst　his　former　friends'　gear。
A　direction　finder　and　a　set　of　magnoculars　once　belonging　to　Charedo　went　into　one　pocket；　as　well　as　six　energy　packs　for　a
lasgun。　A　gleaming　knife　and　tooled　leather　scabbard；　once　the　pride　and　joy　of　Guardsman　Hitch；　was　buckled　around　his　waist
with　a　quick　nod　to　the　blackened　corpse。
'You　don't　mind　if　I　take　this；　do　you？　No；　thought　not。　Cheers；　Hitch。'
Satisfied　that　he　had　salvaged　all　he　could　from　the　listening　post's　meagre　supplies；　Hawke　turned　to　search　for　his　lasgun；
overturning　twisted　debris　and　kicking　aside　drifts　of　amber　dust　that　had　drifted　in　through　the　door。
There。　He　reached　down　and　gripped　the　stock；　pulling　the　weapon　clear　of　the　dust。　Seeing　that　the　barrel　was　twisted　and
buckled　he　dropped　the　useless　weapon　with　a　growl　of　disgust；　and　turned　towards　the　buckled　doorway。
Hawke　stepped　outside；　squinting　in　the　sudden　brightness　and　staring　in　open…mouthed　surprise　at　the　pillars　of　smoke　rising　in
the　distance　from　Jericho　Falls。
'Emperor's　holy　blood！'　hissed　Hawke　as　he　gazed　up　at　the　packed　sky；　clustered　with　enormous　craft　that　surely　should　not　have
been　able　to　stay　aloft　such　was　their　vast　bulk。　The　Falls　was　busier　than　he　had　ever　seen　it。　Tens　of　thousands　of　men　and
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
machines　filled　the　environs　of　the　spaceport；　even　more　than　when　the　entire　regiment　had　been　gathered　for　embarkation　at　the
Great　Muster　on　Joura。
His　knees　sagged　and　Hawke　felt　the　hotness　of　the　mountain　ash　through　his　combat　fatigues　as　he　sank　to　the　ground。　Who
could　believe　that　anyone　could　organise　such　vast　numbers　of　men？　He　put　his　hand　out　to　steady　himself；　his　fingers　meeting
cold　metal　and　closing　around　the　barrel　of　a　gun。
Hawke　looked　down；　seeing　a　Jouran　pattern　lasgun　on　the　ground；　its　stock　smeared　with　dark　blood。　Smiling；　he　picked　it　up
and　saw　that　the　charge　indicator　read　a　healthy　green。
Fresh　resolve　filled　him；　and　he　pushed　himself　to　his　feet。
He　had　to　do　something；　but　what？
He　couldn't　fight　that　many　men。　Even　the　fireside　legends　of　the　Space　Marine　primarchs　balked　at　such　odds；　yet　the　Emperor
had　seen　fit　to　grant　him　this　chance　to　prove　himself　worthy。　How　he　would　do　that　he　wasn't　sure；　but　he　was　pretty　resourceful；
he　would　think　of　something。
He　couldn't　see　the　citadel　from　here；　but　the　k