by J. F. Halpin
Rhodes’s smile only widened. “I got people for that.”
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Nowak stood atop the wagon. It was a quiet night out, one that he was glad for. Even with the bustle of the merchants’ porters, they were still keeping a healthy distance from him. That suited him just fine. It made his job easier and ensured they didn’t have issues.
“Hello.” A woman’s voice caught Nowak’s attention.
She was speaking English.
Nowak turned to find a young woman staring up at him. She had her hands clasped in front of her, but she looked as though she was staring him down.
“Hi?” Nowak responded, unsure of what was happening.
The woman bowed.
“Apologies, but I’m here to claim your cargo. Thirty men will be here shortly. I wished to inform you that your friends will die, should you resist.” She bowed a second time. “Again, I apologize.”
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Summers watched as Nowak walked in a few minutes later. A young woman stood beside him. Summers recognized her as the same woman that had been beside Rhodes.
“Finally.” Rhodes gestured to the woman. “This is Nisha. She’s my translator. I will ask you to treat her with the respect you would show me.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Nisha bowed before turning to Rhodes. “Several dozen rifles, ammunition, fragmentation and nonlethal grenades, along with standard-issue equipment and a few electronic devices.”
Summers understood immediately. That was everything they had in their wagon.
Rhodes just beamed in response.
“Fantastic. Now then. You had guns. Those guns are now my guns. Any questions? Concerns?” Rhodes looked to the group. They kept their hands raised. “Great. Now, with that unpleasant business out of the way, how can I help a fellow American?”
Chapter 22: Means to an End
It was hot. That was the only thought in Rhodes’s mind as he lay there, barely conscious.
The world around him resolved. It was filled with smoke, fire, and gore. He could smell burning flesh. It only took a moment before he realized it was his own.
“Shit . . .”
Nearly a dozen others lay dead around him. His gun was nowhere to be seen.
Rhodes grunted with effort, only barely managing to sit up. The right side of his face was numb, but he could feel the steady trickle of blood running down to soak his shirt.
“Goe vik!”
The voice that called out through the haze was unfamiliar, probably one of the elves they’d brought along. He crawled toward the nearest body, grabbing a rifle from beside it. A heavy, uneven scraping caught his attention.
Rhodes angled his gun as a black, tarlike limb flailed uselessly nearby. He let loose a burst of fire, and it fell to the ground.
An inhuman shriek erupted from somewhere in front of him. Rhodes ignored it. He got to his feet, reloaded his magazine, and started forward.
This was what they’d set out to find. God only knew what they were expecting. But he’d kill this fucking thing if it was the last thing he could manage.
Another scream—a woman this time. Rhodes turned to see their interpreter, Nisha, on the ground. One of his own was looming above her, weapon in hand. Most of him, anyway. The soldier had probably been closer to the same blast that caught Rhodes. The mad look in the man’s black eyes told Rhodes that he was gone. Just like the others, a thrall of whatever the fuck that thing was.
Rhodes fired, and the man fell limp. The elven woman scrambled to her feet an instant later, running in the direction opposite.
“Good girl.”
Rhodes couldn’t even think anymore. He just kept moving forward.
Then he saw it. The towering beast looked like something out of a nightmare: a black mass of squirming limbs and faces, as though they had been stitched together, from creatures he couldn’t even recognize.
The abomination screamed again. Its left half was wrenched open, the bone and viscera inside exposed. Whatever that blast had been, however many it had killed, someone had done good work. The blackened arms that extended from the beast’s body clawed impotently at the ground.
It was trying to run.
Rhodes fired. He cut down every squirming arm he could see. By the time he was done, the creature sat stock still. Rhodes knew these things didn’t die so easily. He watched one head at its center. Where the others were just features on the monster’s body, this one’s eyes followed Rhodes. There was an intelligence there. A fear.
Good.
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Summers watched as guards continued to unload their wagon. Rhodes looked on, impassive as they waited for everything to be loaded up.
“I can sympathize with what you’ve been through. Trust me on that.” Rhodes appraised the group carefully. “But these folks depend on me, and I can’t just be giving a ship out in the middle of a war.”
Even Summers heard the implication in the man’s voice.
“And what about after?” Nowak asked.
“After? Well . . . that all depends. You chip in, I’ll give you whatever the hell you want. A ship—hell, I could even part with a couple guns. Then you can be on your way, and we’ll never have to deal with each other again.”
Nowak considered that. “What would we have to do?”
“Nothing much. I wouldn’t even ask you to fight. Just help me get these assholes”—Rhodes gestured to his guards—“up to speed.”
“That’s it?” Nowak looked skeptical.
“Hand to God.” Rhodes smiled back at them. “I didn’t like getting rough. But you gotta understand, I have an obligation to these people. To them, I’m some kind of divine savior. These people that are coming, they don’t take over peacefully. Given the chance, they’ll kill every man, woman, and child here . . . well, probably take those last two for themselves, but you get the idea.”
The caravan guards watched from the sidelines. They were tense. Synel muttered something to them. Summers wasn’t sure what it was, but it was clear the woman was not happy.
“That why you don’t want to go back home?” Summers watched the way Rhodes’s men moved around him. They showed deference even as they passed.
“Why would I want to leave?”
“To go home.”
Rhodes just looked at them. “Here, I tell someone to jump, they ask how high. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m still a red-blooded American. Consider this an investment for the army—so long as they deal with a few of my terms, they’ve got a foothold in the North. And I think they will.”
Summers couldn’t help but think Rhodes’s “terms” would leave him with this city as his own little fiefdom. The very fact he’d assumed they’d been sent by the army probably meant there was a good reason the army would send someone. That alone was as good an indication as any that he wasn’t the benevolent “savior” he was pretending to be.
“Besides . . .” Rhodes turned back to them. “If you knew how bad things were, trust me, you’d be staying here just like me.”
“What?” Nowak just looked at the man, confused.
“Tell you what, you agree to help, and I’ll tell you everything once this is over. Might even change your minds. And then, we can talk about some long-term plans.”
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Summers walked alongside the others. Guards flanked them on both sides as they headed toward the inner walls of the city.
The only reassurance Summers felt was that, should Rhodes have wanted them dead, he had no doubt the man would have killed them already. Though, even at a glance, Summers could tell that the guards at his side had poor, if any, training.
He cringed internally as he noticed one of the elves holding his finger over the trigger of his weapon, the barrel pointed at the ass of the man in front of him. Thankfully, the safety was still on.
From what he could tell, Rhodes was the only soldier in the city. At least,
the only one from their world. There was a good chance that, as one man, he just didn’t have the time, energy, or maybe the talent to train people that had never seen a gun in their lives into something even resembling competency. And if his treatment here was anything like their experience with the caravan, nothing but divine perfection would do to keep his hold on the city.
The real problem came after Rhodes got what he wanted from them.
A tall elven man approached their group as they passed through the inner wall. He bowed deeply at the sight of Rhodes. Judging by his austere clothing, Summers assumed he was important. As the man lifted his head, Nisha began saying something.
“They’re talking about us. And . . . evacuating the towns.” Asle spoke low. Nisha was translating for Rhodes, but they were too far away to hear.
Maybe elven ears served a purpose, after all.
“Any idea who tall, pale, and important is?” Cortez glanced down to Asle.
“Ying, er . . . council member?” Asle looked up to Summers for confirmation. He nodded.
“So, this is one of the guys that runs the city, and he’s kissing Rhodes’s ass.” Cortez watched for a moment longer. “Great.”
Their conversation ended, and Rhodes gave a slight bow to the councilman as he left.
“You’ll be staying in the castle.” Rhodes explained. “You will be provided with clothes, food, and security. Nisha here will instruct you on your duties for the remainder of your stay in my city.”
Nowak held up a hand. “We haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
“I can respect that. Nisha will get you set up. You just have your answer ready in the morning.”
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Nisha led the group into a spacious room. Everything from the ceiling to the floors looked as though it belonged in a museum. But to Summers, it just looked gaudy.
The woman had briefed them during their walk to the castle. Apparently, this war of theirs had been going on for about seven years. Only recently had it gotten to the point of sieges, and only because of something that had happened to the nation’s border city.
Summers had assumed the city was sacked, but Nisha explained that a creature had been responsible. One creature.
She refused to elaborate.
“And the refugees?” Summers ventured. If what Beorn and Erne had said was true, men with guns had raided their town.
“We have evacuated several towns outside the city’s influence by boat.”
“Evacuated?” Cortez looked to the woman, incredulous. “From what we heard, it was a raid.”
“Unfortunately, our resources are thin, and many towns refused to help. It’s likely they would have been destroyed, regardless.”
“So, you just took it anyway?”
“We’ve helped them however we could. Those that wish to defend the city are given food, and a place for their families behind our walls.”
“What about the people that don’t join? Or can’t fight? What kind of half-assed plan is this?”
“If we were to let everyone into the city, we’d starve before the army ever breached our walls. We’re doing everything we can, and your guns will help ensure that as few die as possible . . .”
Summers didn’t like what was happening, but the fact the weapons were going to be used in defense of someone was at least better than the alternative.
After a moment, Nisha placed a hand on Asle’s shoulder. “Now, if there’s nothing else, we should be going.” She gave Asle a pointed look.
“Wait,” Logan spoke up. “You’re taking her?”
“We’ll ensure that she’s cared for deeper in the castle.” Nisha’s eyes showed no emotion.
“I’ll be okay.” Asle interrupted Logan before he could speak. “I promise.”
She looked up at Nisha impassively, then started walking.
“Please think over your decision carefully.” The woman only paid them a quick glance back.
Summers watched as she led Asle through a set of double doors and out of sight.
The threat wasn’t lost on any of them.
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Asle allowed herself to be led through the castle halls. Nisha walked beside her, glancing down every so often.
Eventually, they came to a large set of double doors, and Nisha gestured for Asle to enter. They walked deeper into the castle, servants bowing to Nisha as they passed.
“I’m afraid you won’t be allowed outside during our preparations.” Nisha bowed to Asle.
“And why is that?”
“For your own safety.”
“No, you’re a coward, and you’re using me as a hostage.” Asle watched as the woman tensed. So, she wasn’t completely heartless.
“You’ll be tending to Master Rhodes’s needs while he’s in the castle. Please do everything in your power to keep him comfortable.”
Asle said nothing.
As they walked, Asle passed a large window. Outside, the body of a large animal was hung up like a trophy. It was dark, tar black, with dozens of faces that stared out at her. No, they followed her. They weren’t moving, but she could tell, somehow.
Despite everything she’d been through, it was the most horrific sight Asle had ever seen, as if the creature itself had reached into her very being. She turned away, trying not to let her discomfort show.
She could only hope that it was dead.
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A few servants had led Summers and his group to a small common area. He’d managed to fumble his way through the conversation long enough to understand that they’d be living here. Just like the rest of the castle, both it and their new bedrooms were luxurious.
Cortez had still torn it apart, sweeping the room for bugs, slits in the wall, anything that could be used to watch or listen to them. They’d found nothing. And so, they sat in what remained of their lavish room, trying to think.
“We don’t actually need guns.” Nowak held his eyes closed. “With the money we have, we could just hire out guards. As long as we don’t wander anywhere dangerous, we’d be fine.”
“Bullshit.” Cortez looked pissed. “If it’s anything like what we’ve seen, we’d be dead in a week. And then there’s Asle.”
“I know . . . can we get by without her?” Nowak looked to Summers. He held a hand up to Cortez before she could say anything. “I’m just trying to weigh our options here. Do you think you could translate for us, at least long enough for us to get to Nevada?”
Summers thought for a long moment.
“Maybe. But for the record, I’m with Cortez. We can’t leave her behind.”
Nowak dropped his head to his hands.
“All right, so can we trust him? Or do you think Rhodes is going to stab us in the back as soon as he doesn’t need us anymore?”
“No, I know his type,” Logan ventured. “If he thinks he can control us, he’ll keep us around. So long as we’re useful, anyway.”
“I don’t trust a word out of his mouth.” Cortez sat back in her chair.
“What about what he was saying earlier? He knows something. More importantly, something’s going on back at base, and we’re in the dark.” Summers realized Rhodes could have been lying, but something about the tone in the man’s voice had told him otherwise. “Did the general’s phone mention anything like that?”
“No. And that’s another point for taking his deal.” Nowak stood, stretching. “If he’s keeping secrets, chances are he’s not going to tell us what’s going on until he’s done with us. And I don’t have to tell you how running blind’s gone for us so far.”
The group sat in relative silence.
Summers looked down at the table in front of him, deep in thought. Food had been laid out for them: baked goods and all manner of sugar-laced desserts. He was fairly sure they weren’t poisoned, but none of them had touched a thing.
He reached down to a blunt, silver knife, inspecting it. Ever since the incident at th
e bar, he’d considered what they’d done. Since the fog, he’d never really fought anything—at least, not with his hands. Most of what he’d done had involved running, shooting, and hoping to God that that was enough.
He took the knife in both hands and bent it in half.
It took almost no effort.
“Huh.”
Chapter 23: Training
By the time morning rolled around, they’d made the most obvious decision they could have: they’d taken Rhodes up on his offer.
Which had led to their current predicament.
“Fuck’s sake . . .” Summers muttered under his breath. He watched, barely suppressing his annoyance as a group of children ran past.
Nisha had led them through the city to familiarize them with its defenses, which was how they’d found themselves beside a busy market street. That in itself wasn’t what was bothering Summers, however. It was the purpose of the large building they’d been brought to. Inside, elves stacked large barrels of black powder on top of each other. Actual black powder. Somehow, Rhodes had created a workable replacement for gunpowder during his short time in the elven city.
The fact that they were storing it less than a stone’s throw from civilians, though, pissed Summers off to no end.
“The market empties at nightfall.” Nisha glanced to Summers, sensing his mood. “And during the siege, I can assure you that it will be empty. It’s quite literally the safest place we could find.”
“Yeah . . .” Cortez watched as one barrel was rolled into the large pit the elves had dug beneath the guard station that housed the powder. “Gunpowder and kids, that’s what I think of when I hear the word safe.”
“The market gives us the best route to resupply our walls, and it’s outside a siege engine’s range.” Nisha’s words had a monotone, almost rehearsed quality to them.
A group of elves packed fired brass, no doubt salvaged from the same place Rhodes had found his guns, up to the wall beside the barrels. He could see the beginnings of a reload station’s press being installed in the building beside it. It was almost impressive in a way; from what Summers could glean, Rhodes had been here for a little less than a year, and they’d already come this far.
