by E L Strife
“She’s gone,” Sergio rasped. “They all are.”
Panton looked across the valley to the coal-black plumes billowing up into the smoky atmosphere. Half of the city was on fire, casting an odd orange glow over the land.
“Who was her team guarding?” Johna asked, slinging his e-rifle over his shoulder as he walked up to the group from his stakeout a few blocks back.
Panton silenced his mic for a moment. “Thanks for the ass-saving.”
Johna gave him a terse nod.
“Vimno. Our Simmaro rep.” Sergio paused. “Three hundred and fifty-two civilians were inside.”
Panton ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Jesus. Well, we need to get someone down there to check for survivors.”
At Hyras’s nod, the group followed Panton up the ramp of their transport hidden in the dense forest outside the destroyed H.Co. Once inside, Panton grabbed an overhead strap and gestured for Ramura to hold on. Her blue eyes smiled up at him in a shy way he hadn’t seen since he was a boy. She was nervous about flying but wanted to fight. Hyras needed bodies for crews. They were the miscellaneous, last-minute, thrown-together teams.
Engines whirred to life, and the ship launched for the other end of town. In the open side-doors sat Hyras’s preferred gunners: Mosa and Yillu, both Sniper Instructors and women familiar to Josie and, therefore, Panton.
Seeming to find some comfort in Ramura’s presence, Johna clung to the overhead straps beside her, his skin flickering from human tan to Xahu’ré grey and back again. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head with every shift.
Tiisan stared out the window like a man wandering alone on the tundra. Panton wondered if he was thinking of his friend, the girl from the water.
Two others sat upfront with Hyras, shepherds Panton didn’t know. Hyras had pulled them from medical. Both had nasty coughs.
Movement through the window caught Panton’s eye. Adjusting his grip on the strap and Ramura, he neared the glass for a better look.
Tiisan bolted closer. “What the hell?”
The others now leaned up against the windows, straining for a glimpse.
A chrome bullet-of-a-ship blasted Linoan fighters out of the sky, dodging their onslaught with ease.
Ramura bounced on her toes. “It’s a Prim ship!”
“A what?” Panton asked.
“Primvera.” Her eyes sparkled with hope above parted lips. “You can tell by the translucence, the way it curves like flumes. I’ve heard of them from captured Prims. Never seen one.”
“Where in the hell has he been?” Tiisan muttered, sounding annoyed.
Ramura scoffed. “Assuming it’s a he and not a she.”
“While it’s great they are knocking them down,” Mosa yelled back at them, the tails of her red bandana flapped in the wind. “We still have to kill all the Linoans who survive the crashes. As Panton’s team learned, they’re resilient miscreants.”
“Hyras, there’s one underneath us!” Yillu shouted up to the front.
The ship canted. Everyone in the fuselage spread their feet and tensed. Three thunks against the floor led a harsh peeping from Hyras’s controls.
Yillu fired at the fighter, blue-green flashes from her gun highlighting the wrinkles of her time-worn face.
Hyras swayed them back and forth, making several team members groan. “I can't shake them!”
Panton pulled an EMP device from a pouch on his belt, glad he’d grabbed them at the last second. “I’ve got an idea. But I don’t think any of you will like it.”
“Do it, Sergeant,” Hyras said. “Take your team. We’ll meet up later.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Do what?” Johna asked.
Panton lowered his goggles back over his eyes and snatched four parachute packs from the cargo racks along the walls, extending them to his team.
Ramura rubbed her hands over her face with a groan before catching the pack he tossed at her. “Not this again.”
“Come on.” Panton playfully elbowed her. “It’s fun. Where’s your warrior spirit?”
“Panton!” Yillu yelled back.
“Anyone hesitates, we all get blown off. That’s what the chutes are for.” Panton checked the harness clips on each of his followers. “Link arms. Jump as one. On my command.”
They collected in the doorway beside the pop pop pop of Yillu’s blazing gun.
“Approaching a hill, Sergeant. Don’t let them bank!” Hyras called back.
There were a lot of tiny details Panton didn’t care to pick up about the process, but making sure the ship had a straight and flat crash strip was critical. “Now!”
He and his team leapt out of the door, falling through the humid wind like a living kite tail. Landing heavily on the metal roof started the pattern in the back of Panton’s mind. It had become second nature in recent weeks.
Panton freed his SI from his holster and fired rapidly at the gun circumvolving toward the group.
Sparks and pieces pelted his jacket as they ripped by the group and disappeared into the wind. Checking on his team, Panton drew the EMP device from his pouch and pressed the button in its circular center. Three flanges whipped out like fan blades. The device hummed to life. “Watch out!”
Tiisan, hunkered at the tail, crept back a step.
Panton slung the device at the aft area of the roof. It attached with a magnetic clunk. White sparks crackled out at the feet. The ship’s engines sputtered, and their velocity dropped.
Clipping his harness to the roof latch, Panton waved for them to link up again. “Hang on!”
Ramura whined beside him and closed her eyes.
The landing was always the hardest part. Their momentum carried the team forward along the smooth hull as the fighter buried its nose in the dirt. Rock and silt sprayed up in waves on each side as the ship creaked to a stop. Dirt rained from the sky. Panton bit back the pain in his side and caught a shoulder strap on Tiisan’s vest as he slid by. The harness snapped tight around Panton’s large body, shooting pangs through his left lung. He held on to his teammates. Bennett would have.
When the team was stabile, Panton unclipped himself. “Time to crack an egg, and then some heads. Does anyone want dibs? Hard to say how many there are.”
All three stared at him like he was crazy.
“No takers?” he asked, praying someone else would volunteer. It was everything he could do to not grab his side and curl in pain.
Ramura stood and drew two knives from her belt. “I’ll go.”
Panton studied her. “You sure?”
“I am small and fast,” Ramura defended, throwing her shoulders back. “I am best for tight spaces, compared to the rest of you.”
“I can’t argue with the woman,” Johna admitted. “But aren’t we wasting time?”
“Naw.” Panton chuckled, then instantly regretted it. He wedged his blade into the control panel beside the hatch, struggling to keep his breaths even. In the tangle of illuminated cables, he grabbed the pair wrapped together and tugged them free. “They’re still freaking out down there trying to figure out what system malfunctioned. Ready?”
She nodded.
Peeling the wires apart, Panton took one and tapped an exposed contact on the switchboard. Thunk. Panton opened the hatch and offered it with a hand.
She gave him a sadistic grin and dropped inside. The three of them left on the roof gathered around the opening. They watched as she slit two throats, back-kicked a Linoan in the chest, rolled on the floor to dodge a swing, then stabbed a fourth in the spine.
“She’s like a gremlin on boosters,” Johna breathed. Drawing his SIs, he steadied himself by the hatch. His face darkened with stripes, his eyes alighting bright blue.
“Think of Yari,” Panton warned.
“I’m the next smallest. Fighting turns me on.”
Panton listened to the grating sounds of tearing flesh, gurgling throats, and Ramura’s grunts as Johna dropped in the hole. The moment the floor below was clear, Tiisan dropped
in.
Panton followed but lowered his guns when he counted the bodies between the drop tubes. “Nice job, kids.”
Johna snorted. “I’m the same age as you.”
“But you’ve only just popped your cherry.” Panton holstered his SIs with a smile. Marching up to the pilot’s controls, he found the same symbol for ramp as collectors had and punched it. He waved them toward their exit.
Ramura wiped the blood from her blades on her cargo pants. “What does that mean?”
“It’s just when—” Johna started.
Tiisan cut him off from the ramp. “Don’t tell her.”
“Why not?” Johna asked, peering outside the ship. “We’re all virgins, so it’s equally uncomfortable. Don’t you think she should know slang?”
Tiisan nervously rubbed the back of his neck, catching Panton’s attention.
“Holy shit.” Stifling a gasp from shock, Panton turned around in the dirt to face the man. “You’re not, are you?”
Tiisan’s gray cheeks darkened, but his expression remained apathetic. “When Ilyrmi saved my life, she healed me in her cave. I was there a long time.”
“How does it work, exactly,” Johna asked, holstering his SIs against his thighs and drawing the e-rifle from his back. “I mean, as compared to something with legs?”
Panton led the way out into the field at the edge of the city, trying not to roll his eyes. “Rifles up. We’re heading into town to hunt. Tiisan, with me.”
“It was the best feeling I’ve ever had. I do not know why it matters if she has legs or not,” Tiisan replied sharply.
They approached the first buildings. Tiisan took a knee and leveled his e-rifle. Two shots thumped out. A body fell from a third-story window.
They passed the bleeding corpse seconds later—a gangly frame stretched under blue-white skin.
“Linéten.” Johna clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Still trying to win. So, I’m just curious, was it at the back or the front?”
Tiisan bared his teeth, a growl starting in his throat. He turned and lurched at Johna, a first in the air.
Panton caught Tiisan with a hand to his chest, pushing him back. Scourging pain crawled out into his body, leaving him shaking. “Stop it. Both of you!”
Ramura sighed softly behind Panton. “I think I get the point.”
Spreading his hands between the men, Panton held them apart. “We’re all separated from our co-shepherds. We’re on edge. Off of serum. But we have a mission. Kiatna are dying here and above. Put this petty shit behind you, and take a lesson from Sergeant Bennett.”
Tiisan eased his fist down and adjusted his flak vest. “What’s that,” he asked acidly, glaring across Panton’s shoulders at Johna.
“Learn some self-control. Nobody gives a flying fuck how we feel, only that we do our jobs. Serum just made it easier. This is withdrawal. I know.” Panton scanned for movement in the buildings around them. Arguing like this was a good way to get caught. “You’ll survive if you cool your jets. Now get your heads back in the hunt. You can beat each other up later if there is a later.”
Panton stepped around Tiisan and continued along the alley. Pairs of footfalls in soft dirt gradually fell in behind him. At the corner of a building, he held up a fist, and the team stopped.
Nearly a hundred Linoans had converged around a fighter in an empty parking lot before the steps of a demolished courthouse. Half were dressed in scaled black armor, the other half in smooth black bodysuits.
“Must be from the ships the Prim shot down,” Ramura whispered, gesturing to the smoke columns coiling up a few blocks away.
“I’ve got a few flash grenades.” Johna tapped the canisters on his chest.
Panton directed Johna and Tiisan to box the Linoans in. He and Ramura stayed behind. Panton saw her hand reach for his side. He pulled away.
She retracted her touch to swipe a curly strand of hair from her eyes. “You’re breathing heavily.”
His jaw slacked, and he looked to the pending fight, squeezing his sweaty fingers around his SIs. “If I keep my breaths shallow, it’s only tight. Too deep and—” He swallowed hard against the lump of reality swelling with force in his throat. “I’m afraid I’ll tear something.” He glanced at her for only a second.
“Why did you come?” Her long hair was pulled back in a bun he’d tied for her with one of Josie’s elastic bands. He could see why Lavrion talked so much about Ramura during his healing sessions. She was innocent and verdant with most things, but smart, observant, and willing to learn even when it scared her.
Panton leaned a shoulder against the chipped brick wall of the building next to him. “Because it’s my duty. Others die with less effort in war. Josie’s up there flying around, and I can’t be there ‘cause of this stupid injury. Here, I can do something.”
Seeing three cans lob up into the air above the clustered Linoans, Panton guided Ramura back behind him and closed his eyes. Three flickers of light paired with booms led a circus of shouts.
He double-tapped her arm.
Ramura opened her eyes, now lit with anger, and freed her SIs from their holsters. “Ready.”
They barreled out of the alley, laying down fire. Most Linoans, stunned, didn’t flee or fight. Panton and Ramura reduced their numbers from one end, while Tiisan and Johna closed in on the other. The breeze stirred up flash smoke, spreading it in milky streams through the city.
Metal flashed from Ramura’s position. She swung a foot at a Linoan’s head, evoking a loud crack. Another Linoan launched a bladed fist at her stomach before she had enough time to duck, causing her to tumble in her escape. She frantically holstered her guns and drew her pair of knives.
Switching targets, Panton sent two shots into the Linoan’s chest as it reared a fist up, aiming for her head. The creature careened backward, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.
“Thanks,” she gasped.
A blazing projectile skimmed Panton’s calf, sending searing pain up his leg. “Mother—”
He whipped his SI toward the source and saw Tiisan overrun and taking hits. “Ramura, on my six!”
Panton charged toward the man, ignoring the burning sensation crawling up his hamstring. He caught a glint from Johna’s e-rifle up on a rooftop as he took Linoans out around them. A shadow approached Johna from behind, and Panton lifted his SI.
One shot knocked the Linoan flat.
Johna looked back then gave him a thumbs-up as thanks.
Too close to Tiisan to fire now, Panton holstered his guns, took a breath, and let it out. He knew it was going to hurt. His best ideas usually did.
Panton slammed his body into two of the lanky creatures. Their lithe forms folded on top of one another—a tangle of arms and legs. He rammed his fists at their throats, and then scrambled to his feet. A glinting heel swung toward Panton’s face. Dodging just in time, Panton planted a fist in the Linoan’s upper back. The snap he heard couldn’t have been more satisfying.
The fourth Linoan pitched a fist at Panton’s side. Panton caught it by the wrist, drew an SI, and shot it in the head.
Holstering his gun, Panton turned around and helped Tiisan to his feet. “You okay?”
The man braced his hands on his knees and coughed, spitting blood onto the asphalt. His hair was soaked and matted on one side. A shoulder was sliced open.
Clouds shifted, and the ramp of the fighter became visible. Two more Linoans appeared, running at them. Panton tried to lift his gun, but the ache in his side had spread to his shoulder from the recent fight.
Tiisan wheezed out a laugh. “Can I have the gremlin next time?”
Johna popped off several shots. The approaching pair of Linoans careened to the asphalt, riddled with bullets.
Ramura shuffled up beside them, her eyes set on the road leading out of town. “Gremlin?”
“It’s nothing. What are you looking at?” Panton gave Tiisan an encouraging pat on his good shoulder then limped around her to get a better view. Streams of grim
y sweat rolled down his face, more from the pain in every breath than the from the afternoon heat. He wiped his eyes with a hand and squinted through the burn at the road.
A ball of red-orange plasma burst up into the sky as yellow bullets rained from above. The chrome Prim ship exploded upon descent, crushing the attacking Linoans before skidding across the concrete.
Panton turned and threw Tiisan and Ramura down, shielding their top-halves with his body. A torrent of rock, glass shards, and metal fragments sheared up Panton’s back as the ship slid by. He’d left his vest on Home Station, feeling suffocated by it.
Ramura screeched beneath Panton. He lifted his head.
“Ha! He!” Tiisan pointed.
Ramura punched Tiisan in the shoulder. “Shut up.”
Despite his throbbing back, Panton spun to see the pilot struggling to free himself from his seat. “I’ll be damned; it’s a Prim.”
With the cylindrical ports in the rear on fire and the mangled remains of the nose shooting sparks, Panton guessed the pilot was short on time. But so was he. They all were. He got himself to his feet and stumbled over to the chunk of the cabin still intact, trying not to think about the growing agony from each jolting step.
The man in the seat jerked away from him when he stepped up to the cab, fear in his citrine eyes. Scanning the scene inside, Panton realized the man was trapped under the collapsed dash. Firelight danced off of metal so polished it looked like glass. “Unbuckle. I’ll get your leg out.”
“Don’t bother. It’s going to blow, and my belt’s stuck.”
Ramura climbed up to him and slid a knife under his harness straps, sawing away. “No shepherd left behind. If I count, you do.”
Panton lifted the crushed instrument clusters. Belts cut, Ramura stepped back. With Tiisan’s help, Panton assisted the Primvera from the seat.
A plume of fire burst from the propulsion system, knocking the cabin forward and Tiisan and Panton off to the side. Scrambling up, they sprinted after the accelerating chunk.
Panton’s side ached as he ran. Just a little bit more, please. He’s on our side.
Leaping up with Tiisan, they hung over the edge of the access door, grabbed the man’s hands, and lugged him out. The three fell back and rolled as the ship skittered into a brick building, bringing stones down on top of it.
