Echoes: The Ten Sigma Series Book 3

by A W Wang

  “In another minute this deal goes off the table, and we fight. Think about how far it will be to the top of that mountain.”

  Cat sighs. “This isn’t making me happy, but I guess we did make a pretty unstoppable pair, Vic.”

  I nod. “Yes, we did. So let’s help each other. We can battle to the death when the time comes.”

  Nobody guesses when that might be, but nobody offers any other objections either. In the end, besides joining forces, what other choice is there?

  Cat holds out her hand, which seems like a distant gesture compared to the last time we were close.

  I shake anyway. “No more time to waste. Let’s get everyone moving before another band hits us.”

  Maybe the woman with the red mane could come up with a better solution, but nobody else has one.

  Helped by the threat of the closing obstacles, I coax everyone into the open, and we head quickly to Cat’s team. Aside from her, there are six others with one injured.

  Together, we are now a total force of sixteen, dragging four wounded, and at least to the next tram, our odds of survival have markedly increased.

  Which is a good thing because the sounds coming from our sides and rear are multiplying.

  Layla, the woman with the blue mullet, kneels next to me, her fingers flexing on her sword handle. Across the narrow path, Cat waits with Ty.

  War cries bellow down the trail.

  “That’s different,” Layla whispers.

  I shrug. Besides reminding me of a crazed version of a Saya whoop, I have no idea if this means these new marauders are meaner or better than the last ones. “They’ll be just that much louder when we kill them.”

  She snorts out a chuckle.

  Footsteps rumble. When movement comes at the edge of our leaf-obstructed vision, we retreat into the darkness of the forest.

  A moment later, ten figures armed with bows and short swords thunder into view, screaming battle cries.

  My hand tightens around the grip of my sword in anticipation of the coming clash, and I force myself to breathe slowly to keep calm.

  Crossbows twang and bolts fly into the leader. His body jerks backward and lands on the soft earth.

  Grunting, I charge at the nearest enemy and jam my sword through his ribs.

  Layla does the same while Cat and Ty hit the column from the opposite side.

  As my slow-to-respond opponent falls with my weapon buried in his body, I yank out my knife and dodge a sloppy strike from the next man in line. Before he can reverse his swing, I lunge and jab the tip into his throat. He goes down in a fountain of blood.

  Because they weren’t expecting to be the quarry, these enemies are easy prey. The slower loading crossbows fire one more time, and the last obstacle falls.

  After I wipe off my knife and retrieve my sword, I grab a set of arrows from one of the dead before we slink into the trees. As the part of our combined team carrying the wounded comes into sight, bellows arrive from different directions.

  “Damn, two more groups,” Ty says.

  “No, three,” Cat replies.

  “There’s an infinite supply, but it doesn’t matter,” I say, pointing toward the sunshine beyond the thinning forest. I jam myself under Jim’s shoulder. “Let’s hustle.”

  As the two teams plod forward, hands tense on sword and ax handles.

  Even though we’ve just won a victory together, suspicious glances fly at the green and orange trim adorning our uniforms.

  The bloodthirsty hollers near, and rustles shake the undergrowth. A flight of arrows sings. Everybody stops, ducking and raising their shield or whatever else is available. The impacts thud around us, but mercifully only into the moist ground or tree trunks. Although my hand finds my fresh quiver of arrows, there are too many enemies and too little time.

  “Everyone sprint to the clearing,” I shout.

  More shafts zip from the brown and green backdrop as we flee. Jim groans when one sinks into his shoulder.

  “Only a few more steps,” I say between heavy pants.

  A war cry splits the air.

  I glance behind and wish I hadn’t. Three groups armed with large axes and long spears follow, gaining ground with every step.

  Practically carrying Jim, I hit a dense clumping of undergrowth and plow through a crosshatch of twigs. Our feet catch on exposed roots, and off-balance, we stumble through the last tangles of foliage and tumble onto a rubbery red surface along with the rest of the two teams. I draw my sword and stand, squinting from the bright sunlight.

  The whistling of arrows stop, and the bloodthirsty calls quiet.

  Not quite ready to accept the evidence, I study the dark spaces past the tree line. A stiff breeze ruffles the leaves, but down by the trunks, everything remains motionless.

  Like the obstacles just vanished…

  I turn to Cat. “Let’s go.”

  As we march to the round, yellow building, the suspicious glances take on a different meaning. Without the obstacles occupying people’s attention, everyone’s free to remember the grim directive of the campaign—we should be killing each other.

  One victory changes none of that.

  A wrong sound or move could initiate a bloodbath.

  “Everyone, relax,” I yell. “There’s no more danger, so let’s make sure we don’t create our own mess. Priorities first. Get the wounded to the first-aid station on the tram.”

  Scratching at the back of her blue mullet, Layla says loudly, “We can wait to kill each other.”

  Nervous chuckles float past.

  “Yeah,” I say, sending a smile, “plenty of time for that.”

  “I call dibs on killing Vic,” Cat says with glee.

  A chill runs down my spine.

  She’s not joking.

  Fifty-Two

  The falling sun casts long shadows over the treetops as the tram snakes toward the desert circle. In layout, decor, and functionality, the silver cars match the first ones we took from the island, although the medical facilities and armaments have been upgraded.

  While clinks come from people loading their new six-shooters and repeating rifles, I sit in the front, staring at the waves of greenery, trying to sort out the situation. The words Cat spewed from my past have faded, and once again, I don’t know why rage smolders inside me.

  But that’s not the worst of it. My words to Cat are still fresh in my mind and, judging by her reactions, fresh in her mind too. And I did reject her for the woman with the red mane.

  I hate myself.

  The thought arrives without context, and I frown.

  Cat wants her pound of flesh, and I’m not sure she doesn’t deserve her revenge.

  The woman with the red mane better be worth whatever payment she extracts.

  Layla plops into the plush chair across from me. She opens a food pack and extends her hand. It’s not the blue liquid, but a bunch of red cubes in a box.

  “Thanks,” I say, accepting the offering and suddenly feeling hungry. “I guess they want this to be realistic.”

  She holds up a plastic water bottle and takes a swig. “At least we still don’t need to pee.”

  I snicker then shake my head. Given the circumstances, the decision to join teams was the only logical thing to do. But now, we might be in each other’s company for quite a while.

  While Layla may be a wonderful person, I’ve been in the program long enough to understand the overlords won’t have a sudden bout of mercy and change the rules. At some point, she’ll need to die for my team to move ahead.

  This situation promises to be worse than anything I experienced with any other teammates. Those people didn’t have to be eliminated for my survival.

  I’m not sure what I’ll do when it’s time to pull the trigger on Layla, let alone Cat.

  I sigh at the conundrum.

  “What’s the matter, Vic? Having an issue with having to kill people you’re working with now?” Cat says, scooting into the chair behind me.

  “No,�
� I say, swiveling to face her, “I’m just worried about how we get past the next rings. It’s a long time till we do anything that drastic.”

  She laughs. “I know you. You worry about all those stupid, silly things.”

  “How long were you guys together?” Layla asks.

  Although Cat winks good-naturedly, her words come with an edge of sarcasm. “Twenty wonderful scenarios. How about that last one?”

  While Layla whistles at the number, my face flushes from the harsh breakup. Warily, I study the anger simmering in Cat’s eyes as I refrain from saying anything, trying not to make things worse.

  The inaction doesn’t work, and in a lightning motion, Cat pops to her feet and yanks out her Schofield revolver, aiming at my nose. “Don’t worry Vic, I won’t let anyone kill you but me.”

  Metal clinks and leather scrapes as everyone draws their weapons. Crisscrossing barrels point everywhere in the crowded car.

  I raise my hands to defuse the situation. “Everybody, stand down!” I glance at Cat. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Cat shoves the weapon into its holster and turns to the rest of the cabin with her hands in the air. “We all know we have to go a lot further before we start plugging each other, right? So relax and enjoy the ride.”

  There are grumbles, but revolvers get holstered and rifles safely pointed at the floor.

  “Don’t do that again,” I say to her. “Everyone’s already a hair away from killing each other, and the situation’s only getting worse when the weapons get more powerful.”

  “I’m just pointing out the eight-hundred-pound gorilla hiding in plain sight,” she says with a shrug. “Besides, I thought that if I acted like Jet, you might like me better.”

  Rather than bury my face into my hands, I meet the hurt in her gaze. “You made your point. Don’t do it again.”

  “You’re such a prude.”

  “I guess I am.”

  She huffs and sinks back into her chair. “Did you miss me, Vic?”

  I manage a faint smile. “I did. I really did.”

  For an instant, her eyes soften.

  “This isn’t how I thought things would turn out,” I add.

  “Life never turns out the way you expect.”

  Ty and Jill sit in the nearest seats, interrupting the festivities.

  “Can we get to business? This isn’t a reunion,” Ty says.

  Jill leans forward. “The first aid is better than the weapons, so the wounded will all be at least functional when we reach the desert. No hand-to-hand, but good to go with guns.”

  I nod, happy to have sixteen ready combatants instead of twelve people dragging four wounded. “That’s good news. We should take advantage of our numbers and stay as a group with scouts and a rear guard. It’s the desert, so nothing should be sneaking up on us, but since we have firearms, it’s good to assume the obstacles will have the same. Within the main group, we should have two fire teams. Cat and I should each lead one.”

  Cat says, “Oh no, you aren’t getting away that easily, Vic. Who makes a better pair than us?”

  “How long were you two together?” Jill asks.

  “Long enough,” I say to prevent another rehashing of our history. “Fine, Layla and Ty take the other team. Our strategy should be to move as fast as possible. The longer we’re in an area, the worse things will get with these obstacles.”

  “Wait, we have to beat challenges that will make us ten sigmas. Won’t that be extra?” Layla asks.

  “That’s a good question. It could be that the faster we move, the more we can spread out the challenges. If we face three groups one after another, it’ll be better than facing them at once. And regardless of the obstacles, we still need to kill all the other teams.”

  Suspicion returns to everyone’s glances.

  Cat breaks the tension, saying, “Don’t let the truth scare you. Just accept that sooner or later we’ll have to kill the other team, but do your job or we’ll never reach that moment.”

  “You gonna tell us when that is or just shoot?” I ask.

  Cat replies with a smug smile.

  Ty pushes his legs into a more comfortable position. “Since nobody’s gonna kill me in the next few minutes, I think I’ll get some sleep,” he says, leaning against the window and pulling down his hat.

  Everyone else returns to their own thoughts, except for Cat, who straightens and whispers to me in an icy tone, “Never forget, I’m getting out of this place.”

  “Me too, Cat. Me too.”

  “Get some rest. You’ll need it before this is over.” She leans back and shoves her boots against the window next to me, closing her eyes.

  I let out a long sigh. Fatigue is just another weight to add to everything that’s coming.

  However, at this moment, I only need to consider what’s in front of me.

  Instead of worrying about when I’ll need to kill Cat or anyone else I might get close with, we still have to cross these outer circles.

  Everything else is secondary.

  With those problems settled, I pull a red cube from the food box and chew on it. The chalky substance tastes like nothing but does cure the pangs in my stomach.

  I drop the empty box as the final glow of dusk gives way to nightfall. After dim recessed lighting illuminates the cabin, I stare at my reflection, trying to get some rest.

  The remainder of the trip passes uneventfully with only the rustles of people eating or shifting in their sleep breaking the silence.

  By the time the tram curves past a patch of giant redwoods and leaves the forest, the stars shine bright in the night sky. A moment later, bluish gleams dance on the window frames, and we enter an ocean of rolling sand dunes bathed by the light of the full moon.

  The bustle of people ends the tranquil experience, and when the way station appears from the darkness, everyone is ready for the next phase of the campaign.

  As I head to the back, Layla hands me a knapsack, saying, “Here’s water, food, and extra ammo. Things are going to be grueling out there.”

  I nod, not wanting her to do me any more favors.

  After the tram stops, the doors slide apart, and a breath of dry air rolls into the cabin.

  I shoulder my knapsack and, after grabbing my rifle, step onto the platform.

  The pack resting against my back sags.

  Something’s wrong.

  When I check inside, the water and food are missing. The others do the same with bewildered expressions and grumbles of anger.

  “Guess the overlords don’t want to weigh us down,” I say with good humor.

  “No,” Cat says. “They want us to fight for it.”

  I shrug and head down the stairs.

  What’s one more reason to battle?

  When everyone catches up on the bottom level, I punch the open button for the doors and step into the arid night of the desert ring.

  The last shot echoes as the first gray of dawn creeps over the horizon. I’m sorry to see the darkness leave.

  Cat scoots next to me, spilling sand down the dune.

  “That’s the last one,” she says with heavy breaths.

  I stare at the scattered forms of the dead raiders. In the faint light, their dark outfits resemble greasy splotches on the lighter hues of the desert.

  “Anyone hit?”

  She blows dust from the action of her rifle. “No, everyone’s still good,” she says, pulling a handful of rounds from her knapsack and slipping them into the loading port.

  Wearily, I nod and let out a dry cough from my parched throat, silently cursing at the overlords for constructing such a realistic environment. And for taking away all the water and food.

  During the night’s fighting, we’ve expended most of the ammo, fending off raiding parties, but haven’t taken any losses. While still sixteen strong, we need to reach shelter before the sun fully rises and the furious heat of the day sweeps over us.

  Especially without supplies.

  “This damn sand ge
ts everywhere,” Cat says, pushing her fingers past a slash in her collar.

  I snort. “That’ll teach you to let anyone get close enough to stab you.”

  She flicks away a handful of particles. “It’s inside my suit too.”

  “The next ring is ice. Frostbite will be worse.”

  Layla hustles from the other side of the dune and rolls to us. “There are buildings about two-hundred meters ahead, but they’re defended.”

  A whirlwind blows, and I freeze, imagining dead limbs flying within its winds.

  Cat taps my arm. “Should we go around?”

  I blink away the apparition, taking a deep breath. “No, we’ve got to get into shelter before the sun gets too high. Also, get food and water. I’m betting those things are in the buildings.”

  “So, it’s a trap?”

  Beyond the low mud structures, which barely register against the brightening sky, lies only an endless sea of sand and islands of rock. “There’s nothing else around?”

  Layla shakes her head.

  “It doesn’t matter if it’s a trap or not. We have to take whatever’s inside.”

  “Okay,” Cat says with a wry smile, “what’s one more fight?”

  We hunch and follow a bed of dried, cracked mud toward the buildings.

  When we reach Ty and the others, the first sliver of the sun has already breached the horizon, flooding the landscape with soft orange and stretched shadows. It’s a pretty time for killing as Cheri would say.

  “More like do or die,” internal me states.

  I bob my head, agreeing. We won’t survive without fresh supplies.

  “Three buildings and movement in all three. Probably ten total,” Ty says, scratching sand from his beard.

  “Right,” I reply. So far, every group we’ve encountered has exactly ten combatants. “Ideas?”

  “We come with the sun at our back and hit the easternmost building. It should give us cover from the other two,” Cat replies.

  “Let’s leave a couple of snipers to cover the open area in case they try to reinforce each other and leap-frog in two groups,” I add.

  Everybody agrees, and we shuck our knapsacks and load our weapons to capacity.