With the cacophony of shots echoing off the ridges and genebank, the troopers still couldn’t quite pinpoint their location. They spun, guns drawn. H124 shifted her scope to the entrance just as Olivia reappeared and then vanished back through it, her face panicked.
One of the PPC soldiers happened to be looking in the right direction when Byron’s rifle went off, cutting down a Death Rider. The soldier pointed up the ridge, pinpointing their location. Everyone scattered below, some running inside the genebank, others racing for cover in the airship. The DisPos soldiers took up shielded locations along the genebank entrance, flash bursters drawn, pressed into recessed sections. Three PPC soldiers emerged from the airship, pushing a sonic gun. They began setting it up. Byron took aim and shot one of them. The target collapsed in the snow. The other two hunkered down behind it. Dirk took a shot, the round pinging off the gun and going wild.
H124 wondered if Epaulettes was inside the medpod, making a plan for when he emerged.
The two soldiers by the sonic gun managed to find enough cover to get it online, then aimed it at the top of the ridge.
“What’s the range on that thing?” H124 asked.
“Not exactly sure,” came Byron’s reply.
Dirk left his perch and slid a few feet down onto the protected side of the ridge. “Better take cover!”
She and Byron did the same, just as a blast of rock came raining down over them.
Byron smiled mirthlessly. “Guess we know the range now.”
H124 scrambled back up to the ridge, threw herself down, and quickly took aim at the two soldiers. She hit one, whose exposed arm was just barely visible behind the sonic gun. He clasped his hand over the wound, and she could see the blood pulsing out. She’d hit an artery. The soldier next to him shoved him aside, and readied to fire. H124 slid back down to where Dirk and Byron waited.
Another hail of rocks. Again she sprinted to the top, collapsed, and took aim. But the remaining soldier wasn’t exposing any part of his body. “Damn!”
She switched to the grenade launcher mode, the scope readjusting to accommodate the different ammunition. She only had a second before he fired again. Before the scope was fully calibrated, she pressed the trigger and slid back down. They heard a dull whump far below as the grenade hit, and no sonic blast came in reply this time, no rocks falling over their heads.
The three scrambled to the top of the ridge, discerning the remains of the sonic weapon lying in scattered rubble across the snow. A red splotch of lumps told them where the PPC soldiers had been.
Her PRD beeped. She lifted it. Raven’s face filled the floating display. “We’ve found something strange. Looks like the this genebank is armed.”
“What? Why would it need to be armed?”
“Someone’s been doing repairs. Updating it, just like in Greenland. This is the largest genebank we’ve found yet. Someone wanted it protected. Right now someone inside the genebank is trying to bring the weapon system online.”
“Olivia?”
“We think so. Onyx is trying to block her. If we can get control of that system…”
“Keep us posted!” H124 told him.
A retinue of PPC soldiers emerged with long-range rifles and took up protected stations around the airship. As the first one took aim, Dirk picked him off. She and Byron took out two more.
The DisPos soldiers remained pressed against the entrance or flattened behind snowbanks, still lacking weapons that could reach H124 and the others. Either they didn’t have enough long-range munitions to go around, or the PPC was hesitant to arm them lethally.
H124 swept her scope up the sides of the entrance, spotting two guns mounted at the top of the entrance tower.
She returned to sniping the PPC soldiers who had rifles, and managed to hit one in the leg. But the others were too well-guarded behind the airship. Bullets chipped away at the rock by H124; one drove into the snow, sending up a plume of white.
A gust tore at her parka hood and threatened to roll them right off the ridge. She had to plant her boots between two rocks to steady herself. The wind tugged at the barrel of her rifle, threatening to tear it loose from her grasp. These were not ideal shooting conditions.
Then she heard a dull thrum. The airship weapon was warming up. It would take out the entire ridge, and them with it.
Chapter 20
“Can they fire that thing when they’re not airborne?” she asked Byron.
“I’ve never seen it done before, but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”
“What do we do?” She was just about to turn and flee down the ridge when the snowy ground on both sides of the genebank entrance started to rise up. Two mounds grew skyward, dry snow cascading off them in the wind.
As the mounds grew in height and more snow sloughed off, she made out shapes beneath them. Several DisPos soldiers moved away from them.
Transparent glass shields at the top of each snow tower slid away, revealing two massive cannon turrets. They had only seconds before the airship’s weapon would have sufficient power to fire, and they didn’t know if Olivia or Onyx controlled those turrets.
The turrets swiveled, centering on the airship. Brilliant lights flashed out of both of them, then more came from the two guns mounted atop the entrance. The pulses hit the airship, igniting its skin of tiny solar panels. As the ship erupted in flames, PPC soldiers and Death Riders streamed from its belly. She didn’t see Epaulettes at first. Maybe he was still in the medpod when the ship caught.
Then she saw him, limping out, hanging onto the shoulders of two comrades.
Obviously, the medpod hadn’t been able to finish. She couldn’t see a neck wound anymore, but the hole in his leg seeped blood onto the snow.
The guns swiveled, but they didn’t fire on the DisPos soldiers who’d taken shelter beside the genebank. It was apparent Onyx didn’t want to risk damaging the vault.
As the remaining PPC soldiers scattered, fleeing to the safety of the entrance, H124 saw Olivia appear again. She blocked the doorway, arms crossed. Her inferiors pointed outside, gesturing toward the cannon, but she remained a stone. She pointed to the ridge. She yelled something, still not exposed enough for H124 to get a clear shot. H124 watched as the PRDs on all the DisPos soldiers lit up simultaneously. One looked reluctantly up the ridge to their location. The soldiers at the door, still gripping their long-range rifles, turned and faced them. They gestured to the DisPos soldiers, pointing to H124’s location, clearly ordering a charge.
Some of the DisPos responded, lining into formation behind the troopers, but several hesitated, still standing against the entrance.
Moments later, all three grabbed their heads and collapsed into the snow.
“They’re shocking them,” Byron told her.
The three DisPos troopers staggered to their feet, arming their flash bursters, and reluctantly joined the fray. It was ridiculous to send them up there with only this weapon. They’d have to make it all the way to the top of the ridge before they would be able to hit H124 and the others.
But Olivia didn’t care. They were disposable, after all, just meat vehicles to throw at the enemy in the hopes of overwhelming H124’s location.
With a collective roar, the soldiers raced toward them, charging up the gentler side of the ridge. H124 took up position and picked off the PPC troopers in the front, targeting rows farther and farther back as the front ones fell. Rifles fired in return, their rounds pinging and cracking off the nearby rock. One struck only an inch to Byron’s left, but the troopers couldn’t aim well enough as they ran.
The cannon swiveled and began launching on the advancing soldiers. Some fell pitifully, tumbling down the hill. But there were too many of them. In time they overwhelmed their location at the top of the ridge. H124 slid down the back side, careening down in the snow until she reached level ground. She spun, bringing her pisto
l to bear and slinging her rifle across her shoulders. She had to rip off her mitten, relying only on the thin glove beneath to guard her hands from the bitter cold. She hit a PPC trooper. Dirk nailed a few more. She ran in an attempt to keep out of range of the flash bursters.
A DisPos soldier pulled out a baton, turning on Byron. He tried to get off a shot, but she struck his Henry repeating rifle, sending it flying. She advanced on him, and he stepped backward, tripping in the snow.
Suddenly aware of a PPC solider mere feet away, H124 spun and fired, blasting him in the torso. Bleeding, he grasped his chest, and fell back.
Only one PPC soldier remained now. The rest looked to be DisPos, racing feverishly toward them to avoid a lethal shock. Though she couldn’t see any of their faces through their helmets, she imagined they were as desperate as she was.
The PPC soldier advanced on her, leveling his rifle. She took aim, but he ducked and rolled, rising up again and letting off a shot. She dove to the side just before he pulled the trigger, landing hard on the cold ground. It took a moment to shift her weight and bring up her gun, but she did so just as he was preparing to fire again. This time the bullet hit his arm. He dropped his rifle, gripped his humerus, and watched the blood stream out between his fingers.
The DisPos soldiers streamed onward, circumventing him. She glanced back to Byron. The same DisPos solider stood before him, delivering a savage kick to his head. Byron staggered back, and she was on him in an instant, aiming a blistering blow to his throat, but he managed to parry, and her fist landed on his jaw, snapping his head back. He went down in the snow on his back, and the soldier leapt on him, twisting his arm around to dislocate it, ready to kill him with a palm to his throat.
H124 leveled the gun on her, her finger moving to the cold metal trigger. Then Dirk grabbed her hand, and wrenched it upward. The gun went off in the air. “Don’t!” he shouted. “Don’t you see?” His face was desperate, emotional.
She didn’t see. But now the wave of DisPos soldiers had closed in on them, aiming their flash bursters, some opting for their batons. She couldn’t see any of their faces behind the opaque face shields, but imagined some of them were relishing the act of cornering their prey.
And then they all fell prone to the ground, completely immobile.
She stared down at the fallen bodies, and already Dirk was running over to Byron. The DisPos trooper who’d attacked him lay sprawled across his body, face down in the snow. “What the hell?” Byron breathed.
H124’s PRD beeped. Onyx’s face filled the comm display. “I shut down their cranial webs, but it won’t last long. You need to pull the nets off quickly.”
H124 dove into the snow, whipping off the closest trooper’s worn helmet. On his shaved skull clung a metal net filled with electrodes. Needles went down into his skin. Carefully H124 peeled it off. Then she went to the next trooper and the next, shucking off the webs. But Dirk and Byron remained by the trooper who had so savagely attacked Byron. When she’d removed the last net from a trooper, she jogged over to them. Dirk was bent down by the fallen soldier.
Hearing H124 approach, he looked over his shoulder, wearing a huge grin. She hadn’t seen him beam that much in a long time. “I knew I recognized that fighting style,” he said.
Perplexed, she came around his side and gazed down at the fallen trooper.
It was Astoria.
Chapter 21
H124 couldn’t take her eyes off her fallen friend. They’d shaved her black-and-red mohawk, and her hair was shorn all the way to the scalp. Astoria’s eyes fluttered as she propped herself up on an elbow, groaning. Her eyes fell on Dirk, and her brow creased in confusion. “What the…” she began to say.
Dirk bent and hugged his sister, clinging fervently to her. Over his shoulder, Astoria stared up at Byron and H124.
With their help, she stood groggily. She took a long look at H124, then extended her hand. H124 shook it, knowing better than to pull the warrior into a hug, no matter how much she wanted to.
Astoria sized up Byron next, then gripped his shoulder as she swayed in a wave of dizziness. “Damn thing.” She shook her head. “I sort of recognized you. Something deep down was telling me that if I fought you hard enough, I’d somehow break free of the thing.” She kicked the cranial web where it lay in the snow.
“How did you…” H124 managed. “How did you survive?”
Astoria gripped her forehead. “I didn’t think I had. The explosion on the rooftop took out most of those soldiers. Some of us lived though. Olivia found me in a coma.” She went silent. “Then she…” She shook her head, unwilling to finish. She stared back at the cranial web with disgust.
Others troopers struggled to sit up, cradling their heads, some groaning in pain.
Byron stepped forward. “We’ve removed the nets,” he told them. “You’re once again your own masters. The PPC no longer controls you.” He allowed them to absorb their new reality. “If you’re willing to go on your way or join us, then our fight with you is done here.”
Several struggled to their feet, their faces worn and scarred, deep circles lining their eyes. Olivia had obviously been working them to exhaustion. Many were gaunt with sunken cheeks, clearly malnourished.
“And where could we go to in this godforsaken place?” one asked, gesturing around at the barren white expanse.
“Then I suggest you join us, and we go kill this damn PPC faction once and for all,” Byron told them.
Astoria gripped Dirk’s shoulder, ready to pass out. The others swayed on their feet. Without the pain of the cranial web driving them on, these soldiers were spent.
H124’s PRD beeped, so she brought up her comm window. Willoughby looked concerned. “You all okay?”
“Yes. We’ve had some amazing news.” She told Willoughby about Astoria, showing her on the display.
“Now we just have to take out Olivia and her crew of sycophants,” Willoughby said over the comm link.
Needing to form a plan, they climbed the ridge again, some of the DisPos soldiers coming with them, others sitting down in the snow, exhausted.
Astoria held onto Dirk’s shoulder, struggling to make it up the steep incline. The deep hollows under her eyes and the sharpness of her cheekbones told H124 that she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks. Her arm trembled. Soon Byron joined them, Astoria leaning on both of them to make it to the top.
When they reached the jagged rocks at the crest of the ridge, they stared down at the damage that lay between them and the genebank entrance. The remains of the airship smoldered, the solar skin completely tattered and melted, the luxurious contents of the cargo hold burned black and giving off an acrid, black smoke.
Corpses of soldiers and Death Riders lay in the snow, with smears of red staining the pure white.
Beyond, the entrance to the genebank was closed. The cannon swiveled, Onyx keeping an eye on everything through its remote cameras.
“What do we do now?” Dirk asked, catching his breath from the climb.
H124 opened a comm link to Onyx. When the hacker’s face appeared, she asked, “Any chance you can open the main doors for us?”
She watched as Onyx entered commands on her floating keyboard. “Looks like I can override the inner lock they’ve engaged. Let me know when you’re close so they won’t have the chance to counter my commands.”
“Will do.” H124 signed off.
She looked at the others in turn. Astoria hung on Dirk’s shoulder. Byron checked his long-range rifle’s targeting system. Then he checked his Henry repeater. On the other side of H124 stood two DisPos soldiers who had made the climb back up, a man and a woman. The man, likely in his sixties, was battle-worn, his thick, mahogany neck scarred as if he’d survived having his throat slashed. His dark eyes focused on the genebank entrance. The woman was younger, probably just a few years older than H124 herself. A jagged scar ran from her ch
eek to the back of her neck, and part of her ear was missing. Tattoos on her pale, shaved skull spiraled in elaborate designs.
“We’re going to have to infiltrate the genebank on foot. Root them out,” Byron told them.
The man nodded, his grizzled face a mask of grim determination. He gritted his teeth. “I will have revenge.”
The woman turned to H124. “As will I,” she growled, the scar pulling at her mouth as she clenched her teeth.
She stuck a mittened hand out. “I’m H124.”
The woman shook it. “Scarlet.”
She held the same hand out to the grizzled veteran. He gripped her in a tight handshake. “Garrett.”
Scarlet eyed Astoria. “You know these people?”
Astoria patted Dirk’s shoulder. “This one’s my brother.” She nodded toward Byron. “This one’s an old friend.” She gestured toward H124. “And this one’s a pain in the ass.”
Scarlet’s expression grew wary. “You Badlanders?”
“Some of us,” Astoria told her.
Scarlet glanced at the snow. “I came from a Badlander camp in the southwest. Hot there.”
“Did the PPC capture you there?” H124 asked.
Scarlet crossed her arms. “I sabotaged one of their transmitters. They moved on my camp, killed everyone. I escaped, but they picked me up out in the desert. I couldn’t find water, so I collapsed. Woke up in a prison cell.”
“What about you?” H124 asked Garrett.
He cleared his throat. “I was no captive. I actually used to guard Olivia, the PPC cream of the crop. For years I protected her, escorted her through the city. Then one night she got news that someone she thought was dead was actually alive. I didn’t hear the specifics. But she broke down. I mean, sobbed. I moved to help her.” He went silent, staring back at the entrance. “Offered to listen.” He narrowed his eyes. “I guess she doesn’t like people seeing her cry. She ordered a group of soldiers to her quarters and they arrested me, dragging me to prison. I couldn’t believe it. I’d served her faithfully for years. When I saw they were going to fit me with a cranial web, I was incredulous. I tried to fight them, but they hit me with a flash burster. When I woke up, they’d shaved my head and attached the damn thing, and I was on a dropship sent to wipe out a Badlander camp.”
Shattered Skies Page 21
