Echoes: The Ten Sigma Series Book 3

by A W Wang

  I pinch the bridge of my nose from some lost habit and say, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For being here. For everything.”

  “Are you ready to tell me why you followed me into the campaign?”

  “Why do you keep asking me?”

  “I want to know that there was something between us. That there was something special with all that time we spent together. Twenty scenarios. A freaking record.”

  “Why?”

  “If you say why again, I’ll kill you now.”

  Before replying, I fill my lungs with a breath of icy air. “I couldn’t let you go alone. I figured we could fight our way out of here together like we’ve done for the past twenty scenarios. You want to know if there was something special? Of course, there was. Maybe even still is. But I can’t give you what you want.”

  She wipes a tear from her cheek.

  “I never imagined we’d wind up like this,” I say helplessly.

  “Well, it’s too late to change that now.”

  “I guess it is.” I think back to when I first met Chew. “Everything in the Ten Sigma Program is temporary.”

  She gives another humorless laugh. “Maybe after you’re dead, I can get rid of these temporary emotions. I want to go back to not feeling anything.”

  “Emotional bonds make you weak,” internal me says, quoting the words of the seven sigma from so long ago.

  “Cat…” My voice trails off as I realize there’s nothing left to say.

  With a huff, she straightens. “Let’s end our partnership now. You go with your group, and I’ll go with mine.”

  “You want to stop working together?”

  “Not yet. But this teamwork thing will end, and when it does, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I nod, not trusting my mouth to add anything beneficial.

  She pulls her hood up and grabs her rifle. “The storm’s lessening, and there’s no point in waiting any longer. Let’s go.”

  As I push outside and step onto a carpet of hailstones, I turn to her. “One way or another, I’ll be really happy when this ends.”

  Her lips form a cold smile. “These will be our last fights together, so we may as well enjoy them.”

  Gasping frigid air, we hurry toward the bright red speck arcing into the clear sky.

  Bullets ping off the frozen surroundings, ricocheting into the rift in front of us.

  I hunch as low as my panicked pace allows while more gunfire zings past. After a few more fear-driven strides, Cat and I crash into the waist-high rise. I twist and spill over the top, ignoring the spraying ice from more impacts.

  On the other side lies a gradual downslope draped in ice.

  With my boots high, I let gravity pull my exhausted body down the slippery surface, taking advantage of the good fortune.

  The red eye of the next way station sits three hundred meters away.

  As Cat slides near me, I scream, “The gun’s too heavy, get rid of it.”

  “We still might need it.”

  “They can’t shoot us in the red circle.”

  Cat scowls but tosses the long, hefty weapon, which lands with a clatter behind us.

  “Crap,” she yells a moment later.

  The gentle slope feeds into a snowbank, and we pop to our feet and run, digging deep pits into the white powder.

  Lead whizzes past my ears. “Cover!”

  We dive behind a low grouping of jagged rocks.

  Chips fly as bullets smack into the outcropping.

  “Damn it,” Cat says, pushing lower into the snow.

  On the way to the red circle, only a few patches of black rocks poke through the snowy blanket. Worse news comes from above where more enemy heads and rifle barrels appear with each passing second.

  We can’t retreat, and the longer we wait, the more likely we’ll be overwhelmed.

  I pull out my rifle, and Cat draws her pistol.

  We take turns shooting the obstacles as they spill over the rift.

  “The ammo’s going to run out before they run out of software,” Cat says.

  “Get down the hill, I’ll cover you.”

  “Ha, I told you Vic, nobody’s killing you but me.”

  I know her better than to argue. “Fine, then we’ll do this the hard way,” I say, pointing to a set of rocks about twenty meters downslope. “Think you can make it without getting shot?”

  “Faster than you can.”

  We poke around the outcropping and empty our weapons, not caring if we hit anything. Then rolling and diving more than running, we race to the next patch of cover followed by a hail of fire.

  When we arrive at safety, we’re both somehow unscathed.

  But that’s not going to last. At least five forms are sliding down the slippery slope, being joined by more every second.

  I slam a fresh magazine into my weapon and pick off targets. In their dark outfits against the white of the ice and snow, they make easy prey, but for every one I kill, two more follow.

  “This isn’t working,” I say.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “We’ll have to make a break for it.”

  “Like I said, tell me something I don’t know,” Cat replies with a chuckle.

  “Okay, on three,” I say, holding up three fingers. “One—”

  “There’s a fifty-fifty chance we don’t make it more than halfway down.”

  I ignore the pessimism and continue, “Two, three!”

  We roll and shoot. When our guns empty, we turn and run.

  “I love stratagem number thirty-six!” internal me says as bullets zip by our fleeing forms.

  Impacts smack up clouds of snow as the powder swallows up our boots, making every stride more plodding than the last.

  Something tugs at the side of my parka and feathers fly. A second passes before I register a hot line of pain over my rib cage from a superficial injury. If it’s the worst that happens, I’ll consider it a victory.

  A step later, my foot catches on a rock hidden under a snowdrift, and I tumble, spraying up a blizzard of white.

  When Cat pauses, struggling to help me up, a shot clips her shoulder, and she goes down.

  I reload and scoot next to her.

  With a grimace, she says, “It’s only a graze. I’ve had worse.”

  “This is going to get a lot worse,” I say, glancing up the slope where there are at least twenty obstacles, danger close. “We’re not going to last in the open. Can you run?”

  Cat blows out a woozy breath. “Not really.”

  “I’m sick of running anyway,” I reply, ready to make our last stand.

  Gunfire peppers the pursuers.

  A welcome sight comes from the base of the incline. The others from the team have all stepped outside the sanctuary to support us.

  As obstacles topple like dominoes, I grab Cat, and we hurry to the red circle.

  With the expert shooters from our side knocking down the enemy as fast as they come over the ice rift, we cross the last fifty meters in relative peace.

  Once we step onto the rubbery surface, the team pulls back, and the snowy terrain falls silent.

  “That was close,” I say.

  “This is a scenario. We’re always this close to death,” Cat replies, squeezing her thumb and index finger together. Without waiting for a response, she steps toward Layla, wobbling from the loss of blood.

  Dour, unlikable Cat has returned.

  “You mean pragmatic Cat.”

  I frown at the truth of the statement.

  “You coming?” Cat asks.

  For an answer to everything spoken and unspoken, I brush past her and head to the round building.

  Ty catches up to me.

  “How bad?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “One dead from each team. Everybody else is accounted for.”

  I bring my hand into my hood and rub my face.

  Eight from my team are left and five from Cat’s. Given
the nature of this circle and having to split ourselves up to find the way station, only losing two is remarkable.

  However, the result is small comfort. As I walk into the yellow building and up the curved staircase, I try to remember the teammate who is no longer present.

  It’s only after the warm air of the tram blasts over us and I flop into one of the plush chairs that the name comes to me.

  Cece, the funny one.

  I shuck off my parka and snow gear, trying to picture her. When nothing comes to mind, I blow out a breath.

  The doors close, and the car softly shudders as we leave the station. Although the ice sheet extends for many more kilometers, in the far distance, the meandering path of the single rail leads directly into the shadow of a tall skyline.

  One less circle to go until Cat and I have our confrontation.

  Layla sits next to me and offers another food pouch.

  The simmering anger from my past rises, and I welcome the dark emotion. I’ll need it to get out of here. I shove her hand aside and march to the rear.

  Cat’s right. The tranquil existence between the teams will end soon.

  And I don’t need any temporary feelings to stop me from doing what I need to do.

  Fifty-Four

  When Jill nods, we pull our triggers.

  Caseless rounds spew from our assault rifles, shredding flesh and peppering bricks up and down the alleyway. The ten obstacles lurking between the high walls fall in bloody heaps.

  After reloading, I signal with my fingers, and we exit from the hiding place, stepping into broad daylight. Still tense from the ferocity of the fighting, we advance past the mangled bodies and around an empty office building with cautious steps. Wind whistles on the new street, and we scan the nearby multi-stories before wending between parked cars to the next crossing. At the corner soda shop, we hop over the jagged edges of a broken window and join the rest of my original team.

  Although still searching the neighboring structures for snipers, the five of them breathe a collective sigh of relief. The sixth, one of the Jims, was a casualty within the first minutes of our entering this forsaken circle.

  I rub my tired eyes.

  That was four tram hops ago.

  Glass crunches under Ty’s boots as he hustles to us.

  “It’s getting worse,” I say, eyeing the torn unitards and bloody scratches around the room.

  He nods, understanding that, with upgraded weapons, the obstacles are becoming far more dangerous before even factoring in their increasing numbers. “We’re still ready to fight.”

  “Anyone know where Cat’s team is?” I ask.

  Before anyone answers, bursts of gunfire echo from nearby.

  Mouse says from the doorway, “That’s a few blocks over.”

  “We need to go help,” I say.

  Ty takes a deep breath. “Things might be better if they didn’t make it.”

  “You mean leave them?”

  “That would be for the best. Admit it. You can’t kill Cat and don’t want to. Hell, I can see how you’d get attached to people you’ve been with for a long time.”

  Jill says, “I feel the same. Maybe we should go our own way.”

  I shake my head. “We have the rest of this ring and then the canyons. We’re a long way from the volcano. Any of you think we can get there by ourselves?”

  “We’d have a chance,” Ty says.

  “A better one with them.”

  Still gazing at her sector, Talon steps back to join the conversation. “Why? I know you don’t want to kill her. If we leave now, then that will be the end. None of us will have to do it.”

  The others nod.

  “Suit yourselves,” I say with a shrug. “I’m heading over.”

  Jill grabs my arm. “Wait, just explain this to me.”

  “I need to save her, to save a part of myself. Cat trained me to get better, so I could get out of this place.” I glance around the room. “We were together for twenty scenarios, so I owe her at least this much.”

  She rubs dirt from her face. “I guess plenty of things can happen before the end. There’s a lot of combat left.”

  “That’s the gist of it.”

  “I suppose my soul is important too.” She expels a long breath. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

  Mouse says, “Count me in.”

  Ty cusses. “Fine, you’ve got us by the balls. Without the three of you, the rest of us aren’t making it. This sucks, but I guess we’re all going.”

  I nod to Jill as a thank you. “Let’s make sure we do this right and fast. Remember—”

  “The longer we dawdle, the more the obstacles increase,” she says with a smile. “You tell us this in every ring—”

  “And before every fight,” Mouse adds.

  “Everyone!” Ty says, stepping over broken glass. He jabs his finger toward the shooting. “We’ll have to kill these people we’re going to rescue and sooner with every step we take toward that volcano. Don’t forget it.”

  It’s the truth, and instead of arguing, I head to the doorway and pause next to Mouse. “Ready?”

  A grin spreads over her mousy face, and she steps onto the street, ready to kill.

  Happy with the company but unhappy with the prospect of losing any of my remaining team rescuing people we’ll have to kill, I follow and run across the intersection.

  We spread to both sidewalks and march toward the fighting with each person guarding a sector. Although everyone is tense, the first block passes without incident.

  At the next street, impacts litter bricks and concrete facades, the result of a running firefight.

  I signal a pause and scan the lurking buildings for obstacles.

  Nothing happens.

  The fighting grows louder, and we renew the advance. After two more blocks, we reach the fighting.

  Down a wide avenue, fifteen of the enemy crouch or squat behind cars and pour fire into a squat structure. Probably the remains of two or three groups of ten.

  Sporadic streams of return fire come from the dark, shot up interior of what looks like a pub.

  Ty says, pointing, “I’ll take Talon and Jim and hit them from that side street.”

  After he disappears, I say to Jill and Tom, “Protect the rear. When we’re ready, I’ll signal for you to come, so we can hit them at the same time.”

  As they nod, I turn and cut across the street with Mouse, where we work our way toward the firefight.

  Although many buildings are inaccessible, we keep a careful watch for anything that might have a broken door or any other signs of ingress. It’s unlikely any obstacles could be lurking in ambush, but one careless mistake will be the end of us.

  Nothing is amiss, and we get into position without incident. A moment later, Ty waves from a narrow crossing further down the avenue.

  I flash a thumbs up to Jill and Tom.

  When they arrive, we stand in unison and fire.

  While Mouse and I work from the left, Jill and Tom take the center, and Ty’s group starts from the right.

  The caseless rounds plow through windshields and flesh with cold precision. In less than five seconds, the last of the obstacles collapses.

  With the fighting over, I direct Mouse to stick with Tom and cover the rear. Then, doing a quick reload, I trot with Jill toward the battle-scarred structure.

  Trails of smoke leak from the shot out windows.

  Stopping just short of their line of fire, I say, “Cat? It’s Vic.”

  “You here to shoot us, Vic?”

  “Don’t be stupid. We could have just left you.”

  Gingerly, Cat, Layla, and the three others from her group step through the splintered doorway.

  Layla laughs, saying, “I would have left you guys.”

  Ty arrives and laughs with her. “That’s what I wanted to do.”

  “We needed more people for the next ring,” I say, sheepishly.

  Although Cat throws me a dubious glance, she smirks. “I guess
we’ll kill each other later.”

  “I guess we will,” I reply softly.

  Brutal fighting consumes the next few hours until the never-ending backdrop of buildings thins and the silver rail of the tram sparkles in the late afternoon sunlight.

  Still six blocks distant.

  I reach down, scavenging ammo from the dead form of one of our ever-increasing obstacles.

  When I finish, I jog to the rest of the group. In somewhat of a surprise, we haven’t taken any more casualties. It’s a testament both to our numbers and the synergy between Cat and me.

  Ty wipes sweat from his brow. “At least two sets are in front of us. And they’re moving into position to cut us off.”

  “What if we go around?” Layla asks.

  Jill shakes her head. “Another bunch is coming from behind. These guys are getting smarter and coordinating.”

  “We’ll have to blast our way through them,” I say. “Everyone got ammo?”

  Heads nod.

  “Okay, unless anyone has any better ideas, I’ll lead.”

  Cat touches my shoulder. “Wait.”

  Although happy to have an alternative, I reply, “Come up with something quick, or we have to go.”

  “We’ve been here before.”

  “What?” I say, arching an eyebrow.

  “Doesn’t this place look familiar?”

  I study the nearby buildings. “This reminds me of when we were in our nineteenth scenario together. Before—”

  Cat interrupts, saving us from an embarrassing admission. “Partner up? One last time for old time’s sake?”

  A moment passes while I evaluate our options. There aren’t any. “Why not? It might be fun.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Ty says.

  I point to the gray door of a three-story. “We’re betting that in there, there’s a gap between the walls that we can use to get past the first line.”

  He scratches at his beard, saying, “That’s a hell of a bet, but I don’t have anything better.”

  “Wait here. And when you hear the fight start down the street, come shooting. And try not to shoot us.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be here all week,” internal me says as everyone in my field of vision sends an eye roll.