Battle Born

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Battle Born Page 8

by Cassandra Rose Clarke


  At the time, Victor had just laughed and rolled his eyes, but he understood now she had meant it as genuine advice. So much of what she’d told him—Camila too—was training. He saw that now.

  Not that he’d used any of it when it really mattered. All that time firing weapons on the beach and what had he done when an actual Covenant soldier had tried to rip his friend apart? Just froze in place, too terrified to move. Some fighter he was.

  The four of them trudged through the forest, Dorian in the lead with the gun. He claimed he knew a path through the woods without going near the roads, saying that he and his uncle used it when they were doing repairs. And so far, he didn’t seem to be lying. They snaked through the dripping trees, following a narrow strip of matted dirt.

  “Did you know this was here?” Evie whispered to Saskia.

  “Parts of it. I didn’t know it went into town.”

  Victor stiffened at the sound of their voices. “We need to be quiet,” he said softly.

  “Sound isn’t going to carry in this rain,” Evie said. “That was your whole point.”

  Still, they both got quiet after that. Victor kept his head down so the rain didn’t get in his eyes. His clothes clung to his skin, and he wondered if it was even going to be worth it to come out during the storms.

  Dorian stopped suddenly, and Victor stumbled to a halt, nearly bumping up against him.

  “I heard something,” Dorian said in a rough voice, hoisting up the gun. “Did you?” Victor shook his head, and Dorian peered over Victor’s shoulder. “How about you two? Did you hear anything?”

  They hadn’t. The four of them stood unmoving in the rain, and Victor strained his hearing against the constant rhythm of raindrops. They had just been saying you couldn’t hear anything out here. It was probably just Dorian’s imagination.

  Leaves exploded up ahead, framed in blue-tinged light.

  “Get down!” Victor cried, slamming into the mud and ferns growing around the path. The girls did the same. He could hear Evie breathing beside him. He had frozen up when the Jackal had grabbed her last night, and he didn’t think he could bear it if it happened again.

  Dorian stayed standing, peering through rifle’s telescope. “Get down!” Victor hissed.

  Dorian swung the rifle in response. He was shaking, his legs vibrating.

  “Dorian,” Saskia said. “He’s right. We should just hi—”

  Another explosion of leaves, another streak of plasma light. It was followed immediately by the rat-tat-tat of automatic fire. Human automatic fire.

  UNSC? Or survivors from town, pushing back against the Covenant?

  The gunfire grew louder, the streak of plasma bolts brighter. Dorian hit the ground in front of Victor, searching for cover.

  “Get in the ferns,” Victor said. “Hide.”

  An explosion of plasma fire. Scorched leaves and the sizzle of burning plasma streaking through the rain. A pair of squat armored figures rushed past, yelping like dogs. One of them turned around and fired into the woods, away from the place where Victor and the others were hidden. Immediately, there came another burst of automatic fire and one of the Covenant soldiers pitched forward, shrieking and gurgling and then falling silent. Victor pressed himself deeper into the ferns, his body aching with the need for stillness. The other soldier had veered deeper into the woods, vanishing into the trees. A shadow zipped past, too quick for Victor to make out who was following. More gunfire. A loud, strangled squawk.

  Silence.

  After a few moments, Victor tentatively lifted his head. Rain fell through the trees, but otherwise the forest was still. No sign of the Covenant. No sign of that shadowy figure either.

  “Is it safe?” Evie whispered.

  “I don’t know.” Victor pushed himself up, looked around, took a deep breath. Then he stood, his body tense, ready to fling himself back into the underbrush.

  Nothing happened.

  Saskia’s head popped out of the ferns, her hair tangled with bright flecks of leaves. “We probably shouldn’t stay here,” she said. “There might be more Covenant on the way.”

  Victor nodded. Evie and Dorian both emerged from the underbrush, Dorian still holding the rifle. Their only weapon as they marched into occupied territory.

  Their only weapon—

  “Wait,” Victor said as the others shook off grass and sticks and leaves. “Dorian, could I borrow the rifle?”

  Dorian frowned. “Why?”

  “I want to see something.”

  “What are you doing?” Evie asked. “We need to keep moving, like Saskia said.”

  “We need weapons too.” Victor tilted his head toward the woods. “We saw one of these Covenant soldiers go down. We can grab his gun, or whatever they’re using. Then we’ll be more evenly matched before we go into town.”

  The others stared at him. Wordlessly, Dorian handed him the rifle. Victor grabbed it and marched toward the fallen creature with a determination he didn’t actually feel, if he was being honest with himself.

  The soldier lay like a pile of discarded machinery, nestled amid the wet ferns. Victor jabbed the rifle at its red armor. But the soldier didn’t move. Victor leaned closer, his breath echoing in his ears. He had seen holos of this species of Covenant before, in classes at school, on the new channels, from recordings his sisters had shown him. They were smaller, apelike bipeds called Unggoy. Under their armor they had thick exoskeletons like crabs, and they needed methane masks to breathe.

  This one’s methane mask was twisted around its neck, revealing an open mouth with rows of jagged teeth. Its eyes stared unblinking at some point past Victor’s shoulder. He shivered. It was definitely dead.

  “What do you see?” Evie shouted. Victor jumped at the sound of her voice, then glared at her, pressing one finger to his mouth. He turned back to the Unggoy. Weapons—he needed to look for weapons. It wasn’t holding anything. But there was something lying on the ground beside it, glowing pale pink. It didn’t exactly look like a gun—more like an enormous arrowhead with what appeared to be a handle. Jagged crystal spikes jutted out from the top of it.

  Victor laid the rifle on the ground and then picked up the Covenant weapon with both hands, staggering a little beneath its weight. It looked like it was intended to be a one-handed weapon, but Victor was forced to awkwardly hold it in two hands. He slowly squeezed his hand into a fist, and one of the shards vanished into the weapon’s cowling. A series of smaller glowing shards simultaneously launched out of the weapon’s mouth, and a few seconds later a tree exploded several meters away.

  Victor shouted and dropped the weapon to the ground, then whirled around to face the others.

  “I’m fine,” he called out, low. “But I found something.”

  “No kidding,” said Dorian, racing over to Victor’s side and yanking Saskia’s rifle off the ground. “We need to leave—something might have heard us.”

  “What is it?” Evie asked, frowning at the weapon. “Saskia? Do you have any idea?”

  Saskia gazed at the weapon through hooded eyes, her face dewy with rain. Victor’s chest constricted at the sight of her. In that moment, she looked so beautiful and strong.

  “Looks like a needler,” she said. “My dad told me about them. Guided munitions. The weapon fires those needles on its top, and they explode on contact. Dorian’s right, though. We need to get out of here before the Covenant show up.”

  The name sparked something in Victor’s head. Camila had described Covenant weapons to him once. The Covenant needler can blow whatever it hits sky-high, she’d said, kicking back in the overstuffed sofa in their parents’ hotel lobby. Ballistic munitions that detect heat signatures. You point in the direction of a target, shoot—it tracks your enemy. BAM! Like that.

  “I know how to use this,” Victor said.

  “You almost shot us,” Dorian said.

  Victor scowled at him. “I lost my grip on it, okay? Look, it’s heavy, but it’s not that hard to use.” He hoisted up the nee
dler and pointed it at a tree ten meters away. Then he squeezed.

  A series of glowing crystals streaked out of the weapon’s mouth with a heavy lisping sound. They traced through the air, impaling the tree, which vanished into a plume of pink fire.

  “You are making way too much noise,” Dorian said.

  “Dorian’s right,” Evie said. “But using their weapons—they won’t be expecting it from us. Is there anything else?”

  “Yeah, looks like it.” Saskia was kneeling beside the Unggoy soldier. She stood up, cradling a vaguely circular object in both hands. “This is a gun.”

  “Doesn’t look like a gun,” Dorian said.

  “Trust me,” she said. “It’s a gun.”

  She wrapped her fingers around the grip and pointed at a tree. There was a long pause, and then a bright green plasma bolt sliced through the air, steaming in the rain. Charred bark splintered and exploded across the ferns.

  She glanced over at her shoulder at Victor, her eyes dark and unreadable. She was still pointing the gun at the tree. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

  “Plasma pistol,” he confirmed. “Yeah, Camila told me about those too.”

  “Who the hell’s Camila?” Dorian asked.

  “His sister.” Evie took the pistol from Saskia and held it awkwardly in two hands. “Show me how to shoot it. But quickly, like you said.”

  Saskia nodded. “Put your hand on the grip there.” Evie did as Saskia said. “Now squeeze it to charge. It’ll fire when you release.”

  Another plasma bolt echoed through the woods. Evie’s arm jerked up, and she stumbled back a little.

  “Yeah, you need to brace yourself,” Saskia said.

  “Like what Maria told us,” Victor said. “When we were shooting assault rifles on the beach.”

  “Assault rifles on the beach?” Dorian said.

  Victor rolled his eyes. “My sisters are in the UNSC. They’ve showed me how to shoot. We need to get going.”

  Evie looked down at the pistol. “Yeah,” she murmured.

  “Okay,” Dorian said. “Who’s getting what?”

  Evie immediately shoved the pistol at Saskia. “You can use it better than me.”

  “I’ll keep the rifle, thanks.” Dorian lifted the rifle. “Sticking with human technology.”

  “I’ll use the needler,” Victor said. “Evie? You sure you don’t want a weapon?”

  “I’ll be fine.” She looked away. She still hadn’t applied anything to the scratches on her face from last night, and they stood out red and angry against her pale skin.

  They set off again, treading up Dorian’s overgrown path. It was getting harder to make out against the mulch of the forest floor, the ferns reaching feathery fingers into the path that kept brushing against Victor’s legs unnervingly. He tried not to think about the dead Unggoy reaching out one of its oversized hands and grabbing on to his ankle. The rain picked up again, pattering through the canopy of leaves overhead. Everything smelled like soil.

  “We’re here,” Dorian said.

  Everyone stopped. The forest was thick and overgrown around them, glimmering with rain. Victor didn’t see any sign of a town computer—no ugly concrete slabs or metal boxes. But Dorian plunged off the path, wading into the ferns, and stopped next to a tangle of woody vines. He shoved them aside with the butt of the rifle, and something sparked in the thick murk of the forest.

  “Wow,” Evie said. “That is really hidden.”

  “Not hidden,” Dorian said, propping the rifle up against the structure. He yanked on the vines with his hands and tossed them off into the woods. “Just old. I had to service it once, maybe three years ago? Only reason I know it’s here.”

  Evie moved forward and began helping Dorian clear the vines away. Victor glanced at Saskia. “Shall we?” he said, then immediately regretted it. He sounded so dumb.

  “Let’s hope they can get it to work,” she said.

  Together, they stepped into the underbrush. The rain was ceaseless and Victor wondered if he’d ever feel dry again.

  The town computer blinked with an arrhythmic pattern of yellow lights. Dorian hit one of the lights and a holo lock screen materialized in the rain. He tapped in a code, and the lights all switched to green.

  Victor felt something twist in his stomach. Jealousy? Both Evie and Saskia were watching Dorian with something like admiration. Well, more Evie. Saskia was looking past the computer.

  “Do you see something?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Just paranoid.”

  “Salome?” Dorian said. “You there?”

  An excruciating pause. The wind kicked up, blowing the rain sideways. The trees rattled.

  “Dorian Nguyen, you’re alive!” The familiar figure of Salome materialized in the air beside the computer. “Oh, I was so worried.”

  “Were you?” Dorian’s voice sounded tight. “Are there casualties? Is—”

  “Oh, Dorian Nguyen, I didn’t mean to worry you!” Salome swiped at him playfully. Her personality was so off. That was what happened when you got stuck with a non-volitional AI, though at least they lasted longer. “Seventy point two percent of the population made it to the shelter.”

  The breath strangled in Victor’s lungs. Thirty percent of the town hadn’t survived. His head buzzed. His parents, had they been part of the 70 percent? His friends from school?

  He glanced over at Evie and her eyes were wide and glassy, her skin pale. She pressed one hand to her mouth.

  “Seventy percent,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “Maximilian Nguyen is still safe!” Salome chirped.

  Dorian’s shoulders sagged. “And Remy?”

  “Safe as houses.”

  Victor shifted his weight. He assumed these people were Dorian’s family, but honestly, he was too scared to ask about his parents. Too scared to learn they were part of that 30 percent who didn’t survive.

  “So the survivors,” Evie said slowly, “they’re in the shelter? And they’re safe from the Covenant?”

  Salome’s expression faltered. “Of course, Evelyn Rousseau. I designed the shelter myself, and it is impenetrable.”

  “My father?” Evie whispered. “Mikal Rousseau?”

  “He’s there.”

  Evie sagged and leaned up against the computer, her eyes closed. Victor squeezed his free hand into a fist and opened his mouth, but his tongue was too dry to speak.

  But then Salome looked past Evie, the glowing lines of her form blurred by the rain. “Victor Gallardo, your parents are safe as well.”

  The world tilted. Victor let out a deep breath. Your parents are safe.

  “Saskia Nazari, I am afraid to report—”

  “My parents weren’t in town,” Saskia said, an edge to her voice. “They’re fine.”

  “Why are the Covenant in Brume-sur-Mer?” Evie asked, bending in close to Salome.

  “I don’t know,” Salome said. “But they aren’t leaving.”

  Evie looked up, locked eyes with Victor. He’d never seen her look so afraid.

  “Why not?” Dorian asked.

  “I don’t know. The motives of the Covenant are beyond my programming, I’m afraid.”

  “Why don’t you get people out of the shelter?” Saskia said. “Get them to safety.”

  “They are safe in the shelter, Saskia Nazari. If I let them out, the Covenant would destroy them.” Salome made an exaggerated frown. “I’m afraid I can’t let any of you in the shelter either, because if I opened the doors, it would compromise the security. You should leave the area immediately.”

  “Noted,” Dorian said. “Salome, I’m switching you off for a minute, okay?”

  “Whatever you’d like, Dorian Nguyen!”

  Dorian swiped through the holo, and Salome vanished. He looked up at the others.

  “It sounds like most people made it to the shelter,” Evie said. “That’s something.”

  “Yeah. Most.” Dorian looked away, his expression hard and unreadable.<
br />
  “How equipped is the shelter?” Saskia asked.

  Victor looked over at her. She was staring intently at Dorian, cradling the Covenant pistol against her chest.

  “What?” Dorian asked.

  “I was down there for the show the other night,” she said. “It’s ancient. There’s no way there’s enough food or water for everyone—”

  “They’re fine for water,” Victor said. “There’s a whole river down there.”

  “But is there a working filter?” Evie frowned. “Rain runoff isn’t drinkable.”

  “Yeah, there is,” Dorian said. “Should still work. They have food stores too.” He closed his eyes, tilted his head back. “But not enough for the whole town.”

  For seventy percent of the town, Victor thought.

  Silence settled over the group. Victor’s relief at his parent’s survival was leaching out of him, replaced with the slow, creeping terror that they would starve to death in the shelter. “We’ve got to get them out of there,” he said slowly, each word tasting like the rain.

  “And how are we supposed to do that?” Dorian glared at him. “Go fight the Covenant ourselves?”

  “We could talk to Salome.” Evie put a hand on Dorian’s shoulder, then snatched it away when he glared at her. “You and me. I might be able to get into her programming, convince her to open the doors.”

  “And just let the Covenant race in there and slaughter everybody?” Dorian snapped. “She’s keeping the doors shut for a reason.”

  “We’ve got weapons.” Victor’s heart hammered against his chest. “My sisters—they showed me some things. And, Saskia, you can handle a gun well.”

  Saskia didn’t say anything, and Victor’s face flushed with heat.

  “What are you saying?” Evie narrowed her eyes at him. “Victor, you can’t—”

  “Can’t fight?” Victor laughed. “We’ll have to, eventually. Look, there are shelter entrances all over the place. We’ll go to one of the more hidden ones. You tell Salome to open only that door, and then we can get in and tell everyone what’s going on. They probably have some weapons down there too. We might be able to actually fight back.”

  Everything spilled out of him in a rush. He breathed in, waiting for their response.

 

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