Echoes: The Ten Sigma Series Book 3

by A W Wang

  Disappointed that nobody has a positive response to my humor, I hustle with Cat to the building. After we kick through the gray door, I find the front room exactly matches my memories.

  We peel back the wallpaper and pull away the thin boards underneath. As with the other scenario, a long gap resides between the walls.

  “Ladies first,” Cat says before she crouches and pushes into the dark space.

  I sigh then follow.

  After a few twists, the narrow path straightens, and we make good time.

  As we pass the dividing wall and enter the next structure, faint gunfire echoes.

  “We’ve got to move faster,” I whisper.

  “What do you think I’m doing?” Cat replies. “And stop bumping your face into my butt.”

  Deciding that idle chatter won’t help the situation, I swallow my retort and keep pace.

  A minute goes by before the walls thin, and faint streaks of light filter into the dank air.

  Cat hustles, and after we pass through another of the ubiquitous buildings, we arrive at the end of the street.

  We push a ratty board from the wall and step into a sunlit corner room.

  I squint and creep to the broad windows.

  Through the glare, I find the enemy in the same position, near some barricades at the intersection.

  “Damn,” Cat says, staring in the opposite direction.

  I curse. Another team of obstacles is further up the street. When we attack, we’ll be caught between two forces.

  She giggles. “Nobody said this would be easy.”

  I let her humor infect my mood. “There’s no one I’d rather get shot to pieces with than you.”

  “You’re such a romantic.”

  “Let’s do this.”

  After double-checking our weapons, we step backward until we reach the far wall.

  “Ready?” Cat says.

  I send her a reassuring smile and raise my rifle.

  We pull our triggers in unison and blow out the windows. A moment later, we jump onto the broken glass littering the street.

  Our sudden appearance only causes a slight hesitation with the obstacles, but the delay is enough. Before either group can react, Cat and I use the rapid firing of the caseless ammunition and send precise rounds into their midsts. Heads and torsos explode in showers of gore. As they return fire, we pivot from experience, using cars, lamp posts, and staircases as cover while our rifles spew a steady stream of rounds into our enemies. From our long partnership, we understand precisely where the other will shoot and when the other needs to reload.

  In only seconds, fallen bodies and rivers of blood cover the asphalt.

  The few stragglers are gunned down by Ty and the others as they breathlessly sprint to us.

  “Wow,” he exclaims. “So that’s what teamwork looks like. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Why didn’t you two just stick together and get out the old fashioned way?” Jill asks.

  Cat glances away while I tighten my lips.

  Talon runs up and saves us from responding. “Lots more are coming.”

  A stray bullet zips into a nearby car as more shots splatter concrete facades and smash windows.

  I yell, “Let’s move!”

  We head for the safety of the red circle, running for all we’re worth.

  I duck with Layla and another from her team at the next intersection and send suppressing fire back at our pursuers, who have once again multiplied. As Layla starts to cross, I push my arm across her path.

  Shots stream from a side street.

  The man from her team squeals and tumbles, oozing blood from his chest and abdomen.

  Layla and I each grab an arm and drag him with us.

  After a few steps, I let go.

  “What are you doing?” she screams.

  “He’s dead.”

  The man’s limp body is full of holes, and his gaze lifeless.

  A cuss leaves her mouth, then she straightens, saying with venom, “I’m sick of running.”

  “Keep heading to the circle.”

  “I want some payback.”

  “Payback? Why?”

  “His name was Jake,” she says with a rising voice.

  The same as my original, cautious teammate.

  I nod sharply, understanding her rage. I’m close to my remaining teammates and would want revenge too.

  More bullets zip past, and we flinch.

  If I let her go, maybe she’ll get killed.

  Stupidly, I brush the thought aside. “Kill as many of them as you want. They’re computer-generated. They won’t feel a thing if you wipe them all out, and the overlords will just make more.”

  She glares with moist eyes but lets me drag her backward and into the cover of a doorway.

  As impacts chew up nearby bricks and send chips flying past, she says, “I’m fine. You can let go.”

  When I do, part of me is disappointed she doesn’t rush back into the battle.

  Instead, we crouch and sprint toward Cat and Jill, who protect our retreat with covering fire.

  When we reach them, we reload and cover their retreat as they run to Ty and a few others waiting at the next corner.

  In this fashion, we reach the red circle. When the last of us step onto the rubbery surface, an eerie silence settles over the cityscape.

  I shake my head and turn toward the towering column of smoke in the distance.

  Despite the respite, many tough decisions are coming.

  Exhausted and dirty, we enter the cool confines of the tram. Ty whoops with a big smile while Jill claps her hands. Even Mouse shows a little emotion with a smirk.

  After the doors close, I stand near the doorway, sighing, and watch the euphoria from our glorious escape evaporate.

  The silver rail goes past the last set of buildings two blocks away and enters the high desert of the canyon circle.

  As the heavy stink of our bodies, filthy from days of battles, seeps into the air, the tension rises. Only four of Cat’s team remain, and they settle near the rear of the car, fingers tight on their weapons. My six surviving teammates—Ty, Jill, Mouse, Talon, Tom, and Jim—do the same from the front.

  When the tram starts moving with a mild jolt, I ask, “Anyone need first aid?”

  Jill stands. “I’ll help.”

  As she moves past, I say, “We should rearm with what’s in the back. If the last circle is any indication, the canyons will be a lot worse. We got lucky.”

  I hope that by emphasizing the remaining danger, the people will relax and focus on the task at hand.

  Cat sets her weapon down, and relief spreads through the atmosphere as everybody else removes their fingers from the triggers.

  At least temporarily.

  As I head back, Cat grabs me. She whispers, “I understand what you’re trying to do and you’re right, the worst is yet to come, but that’s only going to make what we have to do that much harder.”

  Jill pokes her head out. “Looks like we’ve hit the jackpot with the medical facilities. There’s a pod here that will fix everything.”

  I maintain my stare on Cat while a wave of walking wounded brushes past.

  “A lot of things can go wrong before we have to fight each other.”

  “You don’t get it, Vic. Neither of us will get killed before that moment.” She grins. “But don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

  My fingers twitch as I try to stay calm.

  Ty pops from the back. “Guys, I’m not so sure about this next circle.”

  “Why?”

  He holds up a long, wide tube. “Anyone know how to use one of these things?”

  Nobody answers because our threads don’t cover anti-armor rocket launchers.

  Cat cheerily says, “I guess we’ll be killing something big.”

  I shudder because she’s right.

  Fifty-Five

  A gentle breeze stirs in the vast grandeur of the canyons.

  I take heavy breaths of
the cool, arid air and shade my eyes from the glare of the late afternoon sun.

  Faint thumps come.

  As I search across the beiges and browns of the rocky landscape for our newest enemies, a puff of smoke erupts from the low-lying haze. I dive to the side and tumble down a gravelly slope.

  Heat flashes over my body as a rocket roars past. An instant later, the ground shudders when an explosion shatters the prow-shaped mound behind me, showering pebbles and dirt over the area.

  With no time to waste, I roll to my feet and hustle to the foot of the rise, crouching low.

  Jill and Layla hunker under thermal cloaks. In front of them is a laser anti-armor weapon, a bulky thing that everyone complained about carrying from the last tram ride.

  “Bet they’re not complaining now.”

  I ignore the useless statement and pull my cloak over my shoulders as a volley of missiles puffs from the dust curtain.

  Because of the distance, the long tubes appear to hang for a moment before deciding to accelerate with deafening shrieks. Fortunately, the enemy doesn’t know our position. These zip high and, after passing us, run out of fuel and fall into a nearby canyon.

  “You sure you know how to use that?” I ask Jill.

  She glares. “I read the instructions.”

  “Okay,” I say, returning my attention to the attackers. It’s not her fault she doesn’t have any threads for the laser. But the damn thing is point and shoot, so operating it should be pretty simple.

  “This is the first time she’s using the weapon in combat, so who knows what will happen?” internal me quips.

  “Do you have anything useful to say?”

  The sand quivers as four mechas emerge from the distant haze. The machines resemble flightless birds, running on two squat legs attached to an engine chassis. On top, the pilot housing contains a beak-shaped cockpit and sprouts winglike missile racks to either side. A chain gun mounted under the main sensor pod makes everything just that much worse.

  After a few steps, the metallic beasts stop. The low sunlight glints off their thick windows as the cockpits swivel in search of new targets.

  As I yearn for the earlier canyon battles that didn’t involve walking metal monsters, the tense moment becomes tenser when they stomp in our direction.

  “Go for the legs,” I say. “If they can’t walk, they can’t fight.”

  “They’re over a kilometer away,” Layla replies.

  “At this distance, that’s a tough shot to hit such a quick-moving target,” Jill adds.

  “If you wait until they’re close enough to punch through the armor in the capsule, they’ll be close enough to step on us.”

  Layla says, “He’s right. Let’s make sure we don’t miss.”

  I scoot to the left and pull out my hypervelocity rifle, a deadly weapon against infantry but useless against armored hides. Trying to ignore the closing thumps of death, I scan to the flanks, looking for something more manageable to kill.

  The laser charges with a high pitched whir, and the air sizzles a moment later when a focused beam of light heads downrange.

  A red burst flashes as the right ankle of the lead mecha melts. The giant wobbles for two steps and then plows into the ground with a loud metal-on-stone scrape.

  “Good shot,” I call.

  The other three head at us.

  “Reloading,” Jill yells, ejecting the spent power pack from the weapon.

  “Nine hundred meters,” Layla calls.

  I snipe at the cockpits of the sprinting mechas. The hypervelocity pellets have no chance of breaching the tough front windows, but I’m hoping to distract the pilots long enough for Jill to take down another.

  Orange flashes wink from the chain guns mounted under the pilot capsules.

  I hit the ground. “Incoming!”

  20mm rounds shred nearby rocks and pepper the hillsides.

  After rolling a few yards through raining pebbles, I pop up and fire more pellets without effect.

  “Ready,” Jill says.

  “Seven hundred meters,” Layla calls. “Shoot straight.”

  A long swath of gray-clad infantry emerges from the haze.

  The laser whines again, and a flash appears on the nose of the first mecha, which keeps coming.

  “Too high,” Layla screams. “Six hundred.”

  A cuss leaves Jill’s mouth as she struggles to get another cartridge into the weapon.

  I focus lower, taking shots at the straggling line of infantry. More than a few jerk backward and fall before my rifle empties.

  “They’re speeding up,” Layla yells. “Five hundred.”

  The nearing steps thump heavier, and gravel trickles down the nearby hill, leaking past my boots.

  I slap in another thin magazine of hypervelocity pellets.

  More cannon slugs zip at us. While I duck behind a lump of rock, Jill and Layla yank the laser into cover to avoid being cut into bloody pieces.

  Three hundred meters away, two handheld rockets shriek from the edge of the canyon as Ty and his team join the fight.

  The mechas fire chaff as a countermeasure, and the sunlight fills with glittering aluminum strips.

  A second later, the white contrail of the first rocket spears into the sparkling cloud and corkscrews before slamming into the desert with an impressive fireball. The other isn’t fooled and roars into the cockpit of the leading mecha, instantly turning the machine into a burning pile of scrap.

  While the last two lumber through a hail of falling nuts and bolts, Layla and Jill reset the laser with heavy grunts.

  I fire my rifle into the chaos, trying to hit anything of value.

  “Ready,” Jill says as she looks into the eyepiece of the weapon.

  Still moving at a full sprint, the huge machines empty their missile racks.

  “Incoming,” I scream, burying myself behind the nearest rocks.

  The laser makes a high-pitched shriek the moment before the area explodes in showers of dirt and pieces of rock. A concussion punches me into a pebbled slope, and I groan as the air pours from my lungs.

  After the storm subsides, the ground quakes with metal steps.

  I eject the magazine from my rifle and grasp for another of the slim cartridges, shaking my head and opening my mouth to clear the fog dulling my thoughts.

  A dark outline blots out the sunlight.

  I stare into the long barrel of a chain gun.

  Crimson splatters over the thick windows as 20mm shells plow through the side of the cockpit. A moment later, the machine sags to the ground, lifeless.

  Debris spills from my cloak as I rise and rush to Jill, who lies on the rough terrain with blood pouring from her torso. Bleeding from a scalp wound, Layla leans over her, applying compresses.

  “Jill wouldn’t leave until we got off that shot,” Layla says, pointing downrange.

  Beyond the crumpled laser lies the second of the attackers with a neat hole in the cockpit glass.

  “Guess they got close enough,” I mumble.

  Another mecha thumps in front of us.

  “About time,” I say to Cat, who’s sitting behind the front window.

  The machine hesitates, and I wonder if she’s debating ending the truce now. Nervously, I shift closer to Layla.

  Mouse thumps up in our second mecha, and Cat says through her machine’s speaker, “We destroyed a flanking attack coming from the left and took out the infantry. Everything’s clear. The way station is about ten kilometers past this location.”

  Layla shakes her head. “Jill won’t make it that far.”

  “You’re wounded too,” I say.

  “I’ll survive.”

  “Load her onto the mecha. I’ll run her there,” Cat says.

  I turn to Mouse. “Get to Ty’s team and run them to the way station too.”

  While she rumbles away, I help Layla get Jill onto the back of Cat’s machine.

  After we get settled, the mecha plows toward the yellow building with heavy step
s thudding on the pebble crusted ground.

  I wipe my brow and stare into the distance.

  Unlike the other circles, this terrain is flat, the predominant feature being the long swaths of gorges and ravines carved into the landscape. Sitting on top of the cockpit affords me a perfect view of the next stage.

  Past the beige and brown patchwork lies the dark slope of the volcano, which rises into the very heavens.

  I glance at Cat through the top window.

  Our arrangement will be over soon.

  Although the view of the volcano barely changes, the few minutes of gentle rocking on the metal beast bring us close enough to see the glowing rivers of lava etched into its massive slopes.

  I imagine the air growing warmer and wipe my face from imaginary sweat.

  Just one tram hop away…

  After we cross the red circle and stop next to the yellow station, I help Layla carry Jill off the machine and to the doorway.

  Knots of dread form in my stomach, waiting for the others to hustle into the sanctuary from the scattered locations of the battle. Finally, Mouse’s mecha thunders up with the last of us, and the wide entrance opens.

  Cradling Jill, who’s unconscious and deathly pale, I charge up the steps and over the platform. The tram doors can’t open quickly enough, and I barely squeeze through as I rush to the rear. After I put her in the first-aid pod, Layla arrives and seals the glass top.

  “Cat wants to speak with you up front,” she says. When I hesitate, she taps the pod. “Jill saved us back there. I respect her too much to do any harm when she’s like this.”

  A bit chastised, I reply with a shallow nod and exit the car. As I brush past the wary survivors, I pause. “Anyone who’s injured make sure you get first aid. And everyone who’s not injured get some food and rest. And put down your damn weapons.”

  From the front, Cat turns. “Do as he says.”

  While everyone disarms and gets what they need, I march the final steps and sit opposite Cat by the broad front window, which is filled by the massive slope of the volcano.

  Soon, very soon.

  Her eyes stay glued to my reflection until the doors close. When the tram slides forward, she says, “Gotta hand it to you, Vic. Teaming up was a great idea. I never thought so many of us would make it this far.” She twists to me. “So how do you want to do this next part?”