“So who are we pulling for in this battle? The English or the French?”
Jettison finishes coiling the ladder and stuffs it back into Genesis’s pack. “Well, King Phillip II of France was a rabid anti-Semite who robbed Jewish synagogues and eventually expelled all Jewish people from France. King John of England was a usurper who murdered his own cousin to secure his claim to the throne. You can choose your poison.”
I pick up a sword from one of the fallen soldiers. “Okay, I guess I’m rooting for team us.”
Genesis pushes through the door to the tower on her side and gestures for us to follow. I hear a couple of zapping noises and climb over more bodies once I get inside the door. Mayra and Genesis are resetting the charges on their Tasers before pushing through the next door. Genesis looks up at me. “Where are you headed, Travers?”
“I have to find the chapel.”
“Okay. Jet and I have to make it inside the main keep. We’ll have to split up soon. You good?”
“Yeah. I’m good.” I take a tighter grip on my sword as she gets ready to push the door open. Cliff is behind me holding his shotgun. Viznir has his pistol out. Even Jonah has something in his hand, though it doesn’t look like any weapon I’ve ever seen. It looks like a miniature satellite dish attached to a power pack at his waist. I nudge him with my elbow. “What does that do?”
He looks up at me from under his snail helmet and smiles. “You’ll see.”
Genesis shoves the door open and sunlight floods through the doorway. She steps forward and a gray-feathered arrow strikes her in the neck.
14
“Free-jumping is making a jump without prior knowledge of the time and space you’re arriving. It can be employed using walls, floors, or other stable objects as anchors. It should be used only in emergencies. Unfortunately, emergencies tend to happen quite often with time travel.”–Journal of Dr. Harold Quickly, 1868
“Get her back inside!” Cliff yells, as Jettison and Mayra reach for Genesis. The arrow is still quivering in the door and Genesis has her fingers to her neck in shock. She teeters sideways and Jettison and Mayra catch her and drag her back inside. Cliff lunges for the door handle and yanks it closed before more arrows can find their mark.
“Those sons of bitches!” Genesis curses as she pulls her hand away from her neck and looks at the blood. Mayra grabs her pack and starts tossing things out to get to her med kit. Jettison keeps pressure on Gen’s neck with his palm until Mayra can replace it with a gauze pad. Genesis’s steady stream of curses at her attackers reassures us that the injury is not grave.
When Jettison is relieved by Mayra, he steps to an arrow slit in the tower wall and tries to make out the source of the attack. “Looks like they fired on us from the main keep. That’s where we’re heading anyway.” He gestures to me. “Ben, you’re going to shoot this thing for me.” He starts setting up the tripod for the ascension gun and aims the rail out the arrow slit to the top of the inner keep.
“Me?”
“Yeah. It’s easy enough. I’ll get it set. Just pull the trigger.”
I look back to Genesis who is still seething but allowing Mayra to wrap her neck in bandages. She nods to me.
“Okay. Sure. I’ll give it a shot.”
Jettison pulls another gun type device from his pocket and stuffs it into the waist of his pants. “I’ll set up the anchor on the other side, then shoot it back through here with the coordinates. The others will follow me over. We’ll see if we can’t take out some of those archers for you and give you an easier path to the chapel.” He looks to Jonah. “Where are you headed?”
“I’m going to the chapel, too,” Jonah replies.
“Okay, then you can stick with Ben.” He programs his Temprovibe to the flying anchor and they both beep again. He checks the scope and then sets the flying anchor on the track.
Cliff steps over to Jettison and rests his hand on his shoulder. “Set that thing for two. I’m coming with you to sort out those defenders.”
Jettison resets his Temprovibe. He slaps me on the shoulder before placing his hand on the anchor. “See you next level, Travers!” Then the two men vanish.
I look nervously to Genesis, but she just points me to the gun. “Just don’t shake it too much.”
I crouch and look through the scope, gently wrapping my hand around the grip. The trajectory looks clear, so I exhale and squeeze the trigger. The anchor zips off the rail and arcs over the inner bailey wall. I can’t see where it lands. I study the battlements, then look back to Genesis. She gestures toward the ascension gun.
“Fold that thing up and get out of the way. Once they scout a good anchor location, they’ll shoot the anchor back through for us.”
I fumble with the legs of the tripod and drag the device over to the two women. Mayra has finished taping the last of the wraps around Genesis’ neck. Genesis stretches a hand toward me. “Help me up.” I pull her gently to her feet and she probes the bandages with her fingertips.
Jonah is consulting his map while Viznir fidgets with his gun. A sudden buzzing makes me turn around. The flying anchor has whizzed back through the arrow slit and hovers a few feet off the ground. Genesis taps the bottom and catches it as its rotary wings stop spinning. She presses another button on the anchor and consults her Temprovibe before turning to Mayra. “He sent us coordinates.” She sets the anchor on the ground, and Mayra helps her gather the rest of their things. Mayra takes more than her share of the load so Genesis can keep her neck straight, and they both crouch low around the anchor.
After setting their respective devices, Genesis salutes me with her free hand. “Later, boys.”
The pair of them vanishes, leaving only the anchor rocking gently on the floor. I wait a few seconds, then step forward and pick it up. It’s lighter than the blown glass anchors I learned on, and its construction is far more complex. I consider the blade-like wings protruding from the side.
“Can I have that?” Viznir steps up next to me. “I might be able to program it to my unit.”
I hand it to him. “Sure. If that fails, we’ll find ourselves some brooms and have a killer game of quidditch.”
Jonah perks up. “I can play that. I was in wizard club at my school.”
I pat Jonah on his snail helmet. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit.” I push past Barley and open the door a crack. The noise from the far side of the castle has increased. Shouting and the clang of steel are coming from the battlements past the next tower. I shut the door and consult my map. “We need to get to the ground and across to the other side of the castle.” I point out the chapel on the map. “It’s bound to be a mess on the way, but it sounds like the French are attacking for real now on the outer wall. If we move fast during the distraction, we might make it.”
Viznir calculates the distance on his tablet and his brow furrows. “We’ll never make it waiting on the kid.”
Jonah is punching coordinates into the dog’s collar.
“I have a feeling he’ll keep up okay.”
The metal skullcap of a dazed soldier scrapes against the floor, and the man wearing it lets out a moan.
“It’s time for us to go.” I pick up my sword and crack the door again. “Stay with me, Vizzy. We got this.” I push the door wide and dash onto the wall.
Here we go.
The volume of the outside world has changed rapidly. The ring of metal on metal is inside the walls now. A French contingent has appeared from the chapel and is engaging the defenders around the moat of the inner keep. Arrows rain from the battlements on that side also. Wall defenders rush down from the outer battlements to engage the French. Viznir and I run along the wall behind a pair of defenders who haven’t noticed us yet. They reach the stone stairs and we follow them down. On the lower landing, the trailing soldier turns his head and spots us. He looks immediately confused as I point my sword toward the chapel and shout “For England!” The man continues to run after his compatriots but looks back again twice before having to conc
entrate on the French attack.
Trailing the other English soldiers gives us a little added safety, as the archers on the wall of the inner keep are not firing at us. The feeling of safety is only momentary, however, as we are running headlong into the fray around the chapel. The French soldiers have used the element of surprise to their advantage and are fanning out into the courtyard. None of the French are carrying shields, but most have pikes and swords. The English fall on them in force, initially with deadly effect, but the French men-at-arms keep multiplying from the chapel.
Viznir snatches up the shield of a fallen Englishman and narrowly misses being stuck by a spear. One of the Frenchmen charges me with a pike and I dodge to the side, parrying it with my sword. The man’s momentum carries him too far forward and he is struck down by an English knight. I cringe as the sword cleaves through the man’s shoulder. The knight wielding the sword pauses to look at me in curiosity, and for a moment I think he’s going to attack me next, but he rushes forward to engage more of the French men-at-arms. The French have knocked a window out of the top of the chapel and are pouring onto the walls. The tide of the skirmish turns quickly and the knight yells for the English men-at-arms to fall back. I signal Viznir to follow me and we dash to the wall of the chapel and press ourselves against it near one of the broken windows. A couple more Frenchmen jump through and dash toward the gate before I poke my head around the corner.
“These guys smell pretty funky.” I scrunch my face up as I get a whiff of body odor and feces. Viznir tosses his shield aside and we clamber through the remains of the window. Shouting and scuffling reverberate across the roof as fighting continues outside. The interior of the small room we’ve entered takes me aback because it looks nothing like a church. The stone walls are broken up by two wooden doors. The one to the outside is shut, but another stands slightly ajar and shows a route to a larger chamber. The wall to the exterior side of the castle has a wide slab of stone set horizontally with a series of holes cut out of it. It dawns on me that they are used for toilets. I hear voices coming from the latrine holes and inch my way closer out of curiosity. There is a smattering of French I don’t understand, but then I hear a voice I recognize. I inspect the nearest hole and see a collection of ropes dangling down the chute. At the bottom, where the hole exits to the cliff face, a handful of French soldiers are rigging a makeshift harness around a frazzled looking Horacio. Donny is standing next to him holding their packs.
I can’t help but laugh. A couple Frenchmen look up, and Horacio does as well. He scowls when he recognizes me.
“Hey, man. Having fun down there?” I grin.
Donny sees me and flips me off. Horacio scowls and pushes one of the Frenchmen away. He grabs the rope and starts climbing.
“Can you hurry up, man? Cause I kind of have to go.”
Donny shouts up the shaft, “We’re gonna beat your ass, Travers!”
“Oh. Hey Donny. Didn’t see you back there. I guess it’s cause you’re number two.” I grin at Viznir, but he merely rolls his eyes.
“We don’t have time for this. We need to get our objective.”
“Not even a chuckle? I know it’s not my best stuff, but I’m still warming up. I’ve never been given this much ammo all at once.” I gesture to the latrine. “This is a comedic goldmine.”
“Laugh later. This place is dangerous.”
As if on cue, the wooden door swings open and a snarling bearded man in chain mail takes only a moment to decide he doesn’t like us. He swings his sword left-handed, slicing through the air toward my head.
Holy shit! I barely get my own sword raised in time to keep from being cut in half. Even so, the blow knocks me off balance and I stagger backward toward the latrine. His next swing requires Viznir to leap into the corner. I straighten up and slash at him before he can strike again. He deflects my blow with ease and starts hacking back at me, swords clanging as he drives me backward with brute strength. I stumble and land on my backside at the base of the stone latrine. He swings for my head, but impacts the top of the stone slab when I duck. He aims his next blow more carefully, but doesn’t get to take it. He shudders as the room echoes with gunshots. He slumps over me in a heap and I scramble to get out from under him. Viznir is in the corner with the gun still smoking in his hands.
I get out a winded “Thanks.”
I flinch as something furry leaps through the broken window. Barley skids on the landing, then immediately darts through the door into the chapel area. The beeps from his collar have gotten rapid again. I climb to my feet and look down at the body of the soldier. He’s slumped over the latrine, staring vacantly into one of the holes. I brush myself off and look to Viznir. He’s staring at the dead man, and his hand holding the gun is shaking.
“I owe you one, man.”
“You should bring your own gun next time.” Viznir holsters his pistol.
“Yeah.” I nod and lead the way into the chapel.
Jonah has arrived and is searching the sanctuary at the far side of the room. Viznir stops in surprise when he sees him. “How’d he get past us?”
I gesture toward Barley. “Jonah’s been using the dog as an anchor stand to get around. Saves all kinds of time.”
Viznir scowls. “That’s cheating!”
Jonah pauses in his search. “No it isn’t. I asked the committee. They said no one has ever done it before so there’s no rule against it.”
The dog is panting happily. “That makes sense,” I say. “I don’t know how many other guides would be willing to run most of the racecourse without their racers. They’d probably want more of the winnings.”
“I wouldn’t do it,” Viznir says. “The guide would be doing all the work. Why should the racer get any winnings in that scenario?”
I smile at the dog and pat him on the head. “And Barley here probably does it for milk bones.” The dog wags his tail.
“He likes belly rubs,” Jonah says.
I scratch behind the dog’s ears. “I’ll bet he does.”
“There’s the Bible.” Viznir points to the altar and I climb the raised platform. I lay my sword against the altar and step over to the book. Its leather cover is embossed with metal, and when I flip it open, I realize the entire copy has been hand written. The beginnings of chapters are illuminated with elaborate colored illustrations.
“This thing is beautiful.” I hold it carefully. “And heavy. What do you think the committee is going to do with it?”
“Probably preserve it,” Viznir says.
I notice the smell of smoke getting worse, and it makes me wonder if the Bible originally survived the siege. A clatter comes from the doorway and two French men-at-arms are followed into the room by Horacio and Donny. I take a step toward my sword.
The soldiers stand at attention as Horacio says something to them in French. Jonah has found the object he was searching for and takes up a position near the dog, depositing the little wooden statue into the saddlebags. Viznir puts a hand to his gun holster. Cradling the Bible under one arm, I pick up my sword as I step down from the altar. What do these clowns want? Horacio takes another step into the room while Donny shoots me dirty looks from behind.
“We can’t stay and chat, boys, but we’ve arranged for you to have a little company so you won’t get lonely.” Horacio gestures behind him and a few more soldiers enter the room looking exceptionally unfriendly. “Good luck getting to the next gate in one piece.” He smirks and disappears back through the doorway. He and Donny are replaced by three more soldiers. All of them have their weapons in hand. Viznir draws his pistol. The motion makes Jonah look up from his saddlebags and he finally notices the half dozen soldiers menacing us from the doorway. As they begin to approach, he pulls the unusual dish-ended weapon from his belt and aims it at them. He squeezes the trigger and each of the men’s faces silently relax in turn. The men crumple to the floor like so many limp fish. One of the men slumps against the wall with his mouth in a sloppy grin. His eyes roll back in his he
ad, his eyelashes flutter a few times and then his head droops forward on his shoulders.
I stare at Jonah in disbelief. “Holy crap, kid! What is that thing?”
Jonah calmly secures the weapon back to his belt. “It’s my dad’s organism gun. He invented it.”
“Organism gun?”
“Yeah. He made it at his job, but they made it illegal so he couldn’t sell it. He says it makes people feel like they’re having organisms in their brains. He says it’s not really bad though. People think it feels good.”
I look at the goofy expressions on the soldiers’ faces as they lay dazed on the floor. “Uh-huh. Are you sure the word he said was ‘organisms?’”
“Yeah. He says they have thirty-minute organisms in their minds. He says I shouldn’t shoot people too much, though, because they will try to steal my gun. I guess they really like the organisms.”
I laugh and look at Viznir. “Kid’s dad sounds like a unique guy. He’d be a zillionaire in my century.”
Viznir doesn’t smile. “We need to get to the repository. The French army will be all over this place soon. They were raising the gate from the inside. I don’t know how we’re going to get out through that mess.”
“Barley can take us,” Jonah offers. “You guys helped us over the wall. We could help you get back out.”
I consider the handle on the back of the dog. Jonah has simply strapped a wooden stick from the woods onto the handle to use as an anchor. “Isn’t that dangerous? What if someone stops him or tries to shoot him?”
Jonah shakes his head. “Barley is really fast.”
Viznir looks skeptical, but after he takes a look out the window at the massing French troops in the courtyard, he seems to reconsider. “They’re less likely to shoot a random dog. They’re definitely going to have an issue with the three of us walking out of here.”
“Do you think your dog can carry the Bible? There’re no gravitites in it.”
In Times Like These Boxed Set Page 71
