Echoes: The Ten Sigma Series Book 3

by A W Wang

  The two healthy opponents roll from the rain of flaming scraps.

  I launch hypervelocity pellets at the closest one. The stream of metal shreds dirt, rocks, and flesh, and the man disappears amid sprays of red and puffs of black.

  Jill’s rocket shrieks, and our last enemy explodes in a firestorm of gore.

  When I throw her a quizzical expression because of the overkill, she raises her rifle and fires past me and down the slope.

  Another enemy flops into a molten puddle a hundred meters below us.

  Furious with myself, I rise and march higher, holding my rifle in a combat position, scanning for anyone else I might have missed in the lava network to my right.

  Except for the bubbling of liquid rock and an occasional rumble from deep within the volcano, the harsh setting stays quiet.

  After a few more grueling steps, I cross onto the last of the terraces and stand among the pieces of our dead foes. The final wall lies a long stone’s throw away.

  Ty shouts from near the far lava stream, “We won.”

  As Jill joins me with a grin, I wipe dirt from my parched lips, avoiding any premature celebration.

  “We were lucky we had them outgunned,” she says. “They probably had mechas and fought their way to the last way station.”

  “It’s not like we haven’t earned a bit of luck,” I say, pointing down the slope.

  Jill runs a hand through her matted, ash-dusted hair. “That really is quite a view.”

  As a hot breeze rushes past, I shield my eyes from some particles, taking what I hope is my last look at the multicolored circles. “Let’s go and get through this stage,” I say, pointing to the incandescent lines etched on the wall.

  “Good idea,” Ty says, hobbling to us. A gash from a ricochet runs down his leg.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  He nods.

  After we step onto the meandering footpath, which leads to our destination, I say to Jill, “Thanks for killing that guy down the slope.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’ve saved my ass more than once.”

  To emphasize, she slaps her rear as she steps in front and leads the way higher.

  Ty chuckles while I follow with a broad grin.

  Although I’m more relaxed watching Jill swaying up the path than I’ve been at any point since the campaign started, the brief journey to the gate takes too much time.

  The woman with the red mane is waiting.

  After passing a final crest of stones, the trail levels onto a wide rim bordering the wall. I wipe dust and dried sweat from my face. The heat and environment have only worsened as we’ve ascended. I can’t even imagine how bad things will get around the crater.

  Hopefully, nobody will be shooting at us up there.

  Gulping at the dry air, we pass through a final curtain of falling ash before entering the dark shadow of the wall. A few steps later, the path ends at a pair of fiery yellow rectangles surrounded by intricate patterns of incandescent blue and red embossed on the smooth stone. The overall effect resembles an elaborate entrance gate, only one that’s missing hinges, a latch, or anything indicating the obstacle might actually open.

  “What do we do?” Jill says.

  I march and place my palms on the stone, which is surprisingly cool to the touch.

  Nothing happens when I shove forward with all my might.

  Although disappointing, the result isn’t unexpected. In the Ten Sigma Program, assuming the worst is always a good idea.

  I take a few steps backward and crane my head.

  The unyielding barrier curves high above. It’s unclimbable.

  Ty hobbles forward with a grimace and raises his rifle. When he fires, the hypervelocity projectile disintegrates against the rock with a loud crack but doesn’t even scratch the gate carving.

  Before he can waste the rest of his ammunition, I put my hand on his shoulder. “That won’t do anything.”

  “There must be some way around this thing.”

  “When I first got here, I was given a tour from the air. This surrounds the top of the mountain like a crown.”

  Ty limps forward and thumps his palms against the stone. “Let us in!”

  Although desperation tinges his voice, he’s not alone with his feelings. I wipe dust from my eyes. The euphoria of winning the last battle has faded, and I’m tired of fighting as well.

  Something’s wrong.

  “We killed everyone on the slope, right?” I ask.

  Ty nods, biting his lip.

  Jill says, “We hit those guys with enough stuff to kill them ten times over.”

  A horrible thought hits me, and I run to the edge of the downslope.

  Golden sparkles shine at the far end of the sanctuary field.

  “Cover,” I yell.

  We rush down and crouch behind a mound of gnarled rock.

  I peer around the jagged surface, and my stomach sinks.

  Three purple-corded figures move over the black gravel.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit!” Jill says. “The guy in front is a seven.”

  Ty lets out a more colorful curse and says with despair, “They all are.”

  Fifty-Nine

  A stunned silence falls between us.

  Several seconds pass before I work up the nerve to say, “You didn’t think getting to ten sigmas would be easy?”

  “It shouldn’t be this hard,” Ty replies.

  Jill smirks, her cute dimples showing from under the ash dusting her face. “What’s one more impossible battle?”

  I chuckle with more confidence than I feel. “Let’s do this.”

  Ty checks his rifle, saying, “I may as well add a couple more notches to my belt before I leave. If we don’t get killed first…” Although intended as a joke, the words only highlight the hopelessness of our predicament.

  Even worse, the gloominess is right on the mark. Despite our bravado, this coming battle will probably be our end. We’re tired and against superior opponents.

  “They aren’t better. They’ve only had more opportunities to prove themselves.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Ty faces me, scratching at his soot-covered beard. “Got any bright ideas on how to win this thing?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  There isn’t much time, and I motion for them to gather close.

  After swallowing what little saliva remains in my mouth, I throw out a stream of my finest optimism.

  “These guys are good, but don’t get intimidated by scores. Remember, everyone has the same threads, and just like us, they had to battle through those canyons without a resupply afterward. We were surprised, and they will be too. So what if they have a little more ammo? They probably took the mechas and have only rifles like this team we wiped out.” I pat my rocket tube. “We’ve got this, and we’ll be fighting downhill. So, if you two can hold them here, I’ll get around the side and hit them from behind, which will be something they won’t expect.”

  Like I didn’t.

  “These guys are sevens and have seen a hell of a lot,” Ty says, shaking his head. “This is the crappiest plan I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s a start,” I reply.

  Jill throws up her hands. “Crap is better than nothing.”

  Still unconvinced, Ty blows out a sigh. “We’ll keep them pinned for you. Just shoot straight.”

  I hand the rocket tube to Jill. “One shot. Make it count.”

  After she accepts the present, I yank out a handful of my remaining magazines. “You guys need to keep up a heavy suppressing fire. Take these.”

  Grabbing the cases full of metal pellets, Ty says, “Are you sure you can do this?”

  With a reassuring smile, I roll my shoulder and say, “Of course.”

  Jill snorts. “Anyone got any other bright ideas to add?”

  “Whatever you do, just make sure you don’t shoot me,” I say.

  Surprisingly, they both snicker at the lame joke, which I’m sure means we’re all go
ing to die.

  I laugh along, pretending there isn’t a care in the world.

  A smattering of black haze drifts past as I lie in the network of lava. Fifty meters up the slope and to my right, Jill and Ty hide to either side of the closed gate, waiting to get the enemy’s attention.

  Which won’t be enough for the ambush to work.

  Not sure of what else we could do, I puff out a long sigh.

  As the enemy exits the black of the sanctuary, I shift over a patch of smooth pebbles and situate myself behind a gnarled outcropping. With the talent of the threads and the unforgiving terrain, this battle will end quickly. However, like everything in this universe, the path promises to be brutal.

  Jill and Ty noisily widen their positions to attract attention.

  Hoping the distraction will help, I check my rifle for the fifth time and wait, peering downslope under the wisps of smoke and through the shimmers of heat.

  The distant figures spread out. Their highest scorer, a brawny 7.51, stays in the center, flanked by a female 7.01 on the left and a thin man blaring a 7.12 score on the right. With efficient, well-coordinated movements, they present little opportunity to receive fire, while the layers of ash and flows of lava do nothing to slow their advance.

  I sigh, thinking of the seven sigma I met so long ago, who taught me the trick of cutting into my arm.

  These people are sevens just like her and better than me in every way.

  A hot breeze rolls down the mountain, and smoke swirls, stinging my eyes. As I’m momentarily blinded, Jill and Ty start the battle, the cracks of their hypervelocity rifles sending deadly metal downrange.

  If the enemy didn’t know something was waiting, they do now.

  I scoot from the lava until my vision clears.

  The three sevens advance in a loose formation up the hillside, making their way onto the first terrace while staying disciplined. As befits their scores, they return fire only when necessary and easily avoid the shots from Jill and Ty by using the cover of the rocks and depressions to perfection.

  My heart freezes when the nearest one waves downslope.

  Fifty meters behind him, moving past a hole belching whitish smoke, are two others. This fight isn’t three against three; it’s five against three.

  I never dreamed there could be so many sevens in the entire program.

  We are totally screwed.

  I scramble further from the battle and frantically wave to Ty and Jill.

  Precious seconds elapse because they’re busy keeping the enemy occupied, so I can get around their rear—a now impossible task.

  When Jill finally notices me, I flash three fingers then two.

  She signals her understanding by rolling her eyes.

  Because whatever chance we had just vanished.

  As the sevens continue their unstoppable march higher, the crossfire of violence increases, and shots zip closer to Ty and Jill.

  I frown. Without a better course of action, I stick with the plan. I use the black smoke pouring from a vent to descend another twenty meters and past the shallowing incline of a terrace. If I can get behind the sevens, even though I’d be in the line of fire from Ty and Jill, we’d have a chance.

  However, because of the depth of the enemy formation, I need to keep curving farther from the fight.

  Although I hate where I’m headed, I rush further down the slope. However, in my haste, I accidentally trigger a mini-avalanche of pebbles.

  When the noisy rocks end their journey by plunking into a lava puddle, the nearer of the rear guard turns her attention to me.

  I aim and pull the trigger, but she vanishes behind a vent leaking thick smoke. While some of my shots might have done some damage, I duck, assuming the worst.

  It’s the right move. An instant later, pellets zip above my head.

  I press further into the hot ground as lava splatters from a close call, the molten droplets searing through my unitard and singeing my skin.

  With a grimace, I push backward, happy not to have been blinded or scalded any worse. As another rain of black ash falls, I blink, trying not to wipe my eyes, and search for my opponent. With her expertise, she’s invisible against the rocky backdrop.

  When pebbles trickle from above, I flick my rifle higher and launch hurried shots.

  The seven returns fire, and over the next few minutes, we snipe at each other with vicious volleys.

  However, I expend an enormous amount of ammunition to maintain the status quo. For every one of her shots, I send ten back as a counter.

  After a nasty exchange, I reach down for another reload and groan.

  My ammo pouch is empty. The slim magazines are gone, and I still haven’t scored a hit.

  Only Cat’s knife is left.

  I brought a knife to a hypervelocity rifle fight.

  Without my help, Ty and Jill don’t stand a chance, but I have no idea of what to do.

  We’re going to lose.

  Sixty

  Disgusted, I toss the useless pouch aside.

  The volcano belches again as if mocking me. A moment later, a gust whips down the mountainside, blasting my face with heat, falling ash, and smoke.

  I shield my eyes and slide into a shallow gully of smooth stones, trying to stay hidden. As I head downward, sharp impacts splinter rocks and crack dried lava up and down the slope.

  The enemy is dangerously close to the top.

  So far, Jill’s been too smart to have used the rocket. But how long can she wait? The other side’s skill and numbers have negated most of our advantages. And with an empty rifle, what can I do when the right moment arrives?

  “Over here,” calls my immediate nemesis.

  I risk a glance around a tall outcropping and find the other rear guard has joined the woman hunting me.

  As if I needed a tag-team challenge from two sevens…

  Pellets pour from both shooters, and painful stings register across my body from sprays of rock and splatters of lava.

  I wince, barely keeping my growing fear at bay. Even though every step from the battle worsens my attacking position, I give more ground, heading down the channel.

  As my enemies leap over a smaller stream and land in the place I just vacated, I spy my deliverance. The man who tried to flank us, the one Jill shot, is near a grouping of boulders nestled around a bend in the main flow of lava. The shiny length of his hypervelocity rifle lies next to his hand.

  Shots fly past while I roll from the depression and scoot toward him. After several close calls, I crawl between the man-sized rocks and the glowing river. As heat pours through my unitard, I angle myself at his ammo belt, flexing my fingers and tensing my arm. Just before making the sudden grab, I realize nobody’s been shooting at me.

  I jerk back as pellets rip into the man’s body. As I cringe, staring in horror, another volley shatters the hypervelocity rifle and precious reloads. My hopes die as the metal balls clatter down the slope.

  “Hey, 4.9 sigma guy,” the woman says, rounding down my minuscule score with contempt. “You run out of ammo?”

  “Stupid, stupid amateur,” her partner responds. “They let anyone into this program.”

  “Ha, whatever a ten sigma is, this guy isn’t it. He cornered himself.”

  While they laugh, I realize they’re right. In going after the reloads, I’ve pinned myself against the molten channel. I gasp for air and, verging on panic, search for any escape that doesn’t involve jumping into the open. Exposing myself for an instant against an ordinary opponent would be suicide. Against two sevens…

  Cheri says in heavily accented French, “Dare to dream, darling.”

  Not needing advice from a ghost, I frown and jam back into the rocks. After dragging my hand down my face, I sling my useless rifle.

  This time, the fingers of darkness won’t come slowly. My old friend will return with a hypervelocity slug exploding my brain into a million bits.

  Although woefully inadequate for the coming confrontation, I pull
out Cat’s knife.

  “It’s going to be hard to win with only that,” internal me says.

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “That’s the whole point. There isn’t anything you don’t know for winning this battle.”

  I roll my eyes, parsing the double negative.

  “You’ve got the threads.”

  “I’ve only got a knife. The threads don’t cover suicidal charges.”

  “Look around you!”

  Besides ash and steam, the surroundings are covered with small rocks, big rocks, and molten rocks; everything that’s been here this entire time.

  “Look harder.”

  “I’m going to die in a minute. Is there a point to all this?”

  A chuckle ruins the glum thought.

  “What? Rolling your eyes isn’t enough?” I ask.

  “Remember Acid Island?”, internal me asks. “That guy was one of the toughest you’ve ever faced, and somehow you won.”

  “Your point being…”

  “You had nothing but yourself. The body has always been disposable.”

  The thought of Jet returning from each scenario in a pristine virginal form flashes into my mind.

  Internal me adds, “Exactly. Naughty thoughts aside, the flesh is just a tool. Not only that, everything and everyone is.”

  Everything is a tool.

  It’s what Jet said. An echo from Cheri wafts into my mind. “Everything is only a role. A role where you take the things you know and put them together.”

  I suck down a breath of scorching air. Stupidly, I’ve been focused on only being myself.

  For this entire time, everything I need has been in front of me. My original team, Jet and Block, and even Cat.

  “Hey, don’t forget about me!”

  I have a path to get to the woman with the red mane.

  Internal me mockingly asks, “What will you do?”

  I smirk.

  Although “What will you do?” has always been asked, the real question for me is “What will you become?”

  “Somebody’s on the right track.”

  “This program is about more than just individuality. It’s about maximizing everything available. From my experience to those of my teammates. I’ll make myself what I need to be,” I reply.