The Never Army

by Hodges, T. Ellery

  That was until Collin and Hayden had seen him carrying it around one day and asked if he spoke Klingon. Apparently, Doyle’s weapon was a re-creation of something called a Bat’leth . . . from freakin’ Star Trek.

  They looked at one another one last time and formed a triangle to best protect one another. The Green’s circle tightened around them. They must have been outnumbered ten to one. In the pitch black of the city their white eyes seemed to float in the darkness, their guttural growls growing closer as they drew near. Soon, the first grew brave and jumped to grip the lip of their rooftop.

  A small red dot appeared on the map in Emilio’s HUD. One of their own was close. The dot was moving their way—and fast. But he knew . . . one more man wasn’t going to change the way this wind was blowing.

  “Whoever that is, thank you for trying, but it’s too late and there are too many,” Emilio said. “Please, don’t waste your life trying to save us.”

  The red dot slowed, then stopped. Emilio couldn’t spare the man another thought as the She-rox swarmed the rooftop. They weren’t going to wait for his full attention. More and more jumped toward them from the surrounding building. Others appeared, climbing up and over from the outer walls.

  Despite his fear, Emilio accepted what was about to happen. He flexed his grip on Cujo and Cerberus. He was going to roar, though what he wanted his final cry to be he wasn’t sure.

  Doyle’s voice suddenly boomed with rage behind them. “Heghlu’meH QaQ jajvam.”

  Emilio and Singh heard the translation . . .

  Today is a good day to die!

  The pack didn’t swarm them all at once, but some of the more eager came forward as though testing their prey. Those few were not prepared for the effectiveness of the molecular edge on their weapons. The first of those who came within striking distance pulled away with a surprised squeal when Cujo had sunk deep into her forearm. The Ferox screamed in agony as the axe cleaved through her external armor down to the metallic bone in her arm. She drew back, cradling the wound, watching him with both caution and bloodlust, as she paced just outside his reach.

  It brought them little hope to draw blood. The pack was only testing them, and as the monsters studied them, communication was passing through their numbers. Soon, the pack started to approach in clumps, five on one, while in the rear others took up positions to pounce so they could drop in on them from above.

  In the next few seconds, they would simply be overwhelmed—the waiting racked Emilio’s nerves. He was supposed to lead but saw nothing to be done as the pack casually cackled in their guttural alien language about how they were to be dispatched. Hyena playing with their food.

  Then one of the Ferox stilled. It looked past them and up into the night. Soon, others did the same, their disturbed vocals drawing the rest of the pack’s attention to the sky. Emilio only had enough time to frown at them behind his helmet’s shield when he noticed a proximity warning. The red dot on his minimap—the lone soldier who had responded to their distress call. The man was coming toward their rooftop like a guided missile.

  Emilio heard his comm crack to life, and he immediately knew the voice. “Everyone down, now!”

  As they dove for the ground, Brings the Rain landed on the rooftop. His device shields were pulled back, and his helmet visor retracted, such that he was a blazing ball of energy in the dark night. As he landed, he crouched, one fist tightening over his head. For a split second, it seemed an overly cinematic pose, like he was making some dramatic entrance, but the arm he held up was shaking with effort to keep its grip. As though he was bringing all the strength he had to bear to control—something.

  A split second later, the She-rox starting on his right seemed to be knocked away and into the night, pushed hard and fast into the rooftop, or barreled into. Emilio didn’t understand what he was seeing, it was as though Jonathan was hitting them with an unseen force even as his arm came down in front of him, still shaking with exertion as his free hand joined in effort.

  Tibbs began to pivot, and as he moved each Ferox in front of him seemed struck, slapped out of the way like a wrestler hit by a clothesline.

  Then Emilio saw it—didn’t believe—but he understood. He saw the flash of the alien steel, Doomsday, circling Jonathan’s wrist as he held tight and anchored something very heavy at the other end. Where the chain normally ended in a spiked tip, there was now a ball the size of a golf cart. It looked like—well—it had been a vehicle at some point; he’d mangled it into a ball of wreckage.

  Suddenly, Emilio recognized what it was. As the three had been fleeing the pack, they’d run across the rooftop of the nearby hospital. There had been a landing pad on that roof—with a helicopter parked on top of it.

  As he completed his circle, Jonathan’s thumb came down on a small release button on Doomsday’s handle, and the lasso-like chain around the helicopter wreckage freed itself, smashing into two of the She-rox before plummeting over the side of the roof. Jonathan jolted momentarily from the sudden loss of the weight and yanked the chain back to him as he began to rise to his feet.

  The attention of every Ferox on the roof was no longer on Emilio’s trio.

  The ones lucky enough to escape the wrecking ball were quick to move in on him, but Brings the Rain maneuvered with a reaper’s grace. By the time Emilio had gotten back to his hands and knees Jonathan was ripping through the stunned pack. Even with thermal optics the tip of Doomsday seemed to move around him and strike out of the night from angles that caught the Ferox by surprise. Emilio watched in disbelief as the spiked tip sailed through the night to impale an unsuspecting Green through the chest, only for Jonathan to yank back hard on the chain and wrench the creature off its feet. He stepped out of the way as the helpless beast rocketed toward him and crashed into the two coming for his exposed back.

  Finally, one of the Greens, the one Emilio thought the leader, flew out of the night, only to be plucked out of the air single-handedly and pounded down through the rooftop.

  There was a moment of pause in the pack as Jonathan turned away from the crater he had just put their leader through and looked over the rest. His blazing eyes, there was recognition—they knew who he was. It changed the way they came, eagerness replaced with even more caution. Even more so when the next to take a chance at him died with his fist driven straight through its chest.

  Singh was the first to regain his wits, already pulling Emilio up by the shoulder and reminding him that they should be dispatching as many of the pack as they could in the chaos Jonathan was creating for them. The pack was temporarily quite focused on making an ill-fated attempt at their leader.

  Emilio’s training returned to him, the three falling into step, working together to herd and flank the creatures, ensuring that while Jonathan kept their attention, he didn’t get overwhelmed.

  Soon . . . to their shock, the beasts fled across the rooftops.

  Jonathan watched this with some annoyance. It wasn’t that he thought them cowards, that much Emilio could tell. Rather, Jonathan was bothered by the wisdom of the pack leaving a fight when they couldn’t win. The male Ferox weren’t wired to do the same. Their over eagerness to fall on the sword was one of the advantages The Never Army had been exploiting.

  Intelligence and self-preservation, those were more human traits.

  Jonathan’s helmet slapped shut and his shields moved back into place to cover the light of his implant. In seconds he went from a beacon in the night to a soldier nearly indistinguishable from Emilio or the others.

  “Everyone alright?” Jonathan asked.

  They nodded, surprised to have come out of the scrape with only a few bruises.

  The shiny black visor of Jonathan’s helmet moved over each of them, and finally settled on Doyle. More specifically, on the Warf—the weapon now dripping with Feroxian blood.

  “Doyle,” Jonathan said, clearly reading the man’s name from his HUD data.

  “Sir?” Doyle replied.

  “Did you just yell
at them in Klingon?”

  The three survivors each exchanged glances. Doyle finally shrugging awkwardly. “I don’t speak it, I just know the one phrase.”

  In their moment of relief, Emilio and Singh began to shake their heads and laugh.

  “You guys suck,” Doyle said, putting the weapon away.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED

  IT IS USING a cloaking device. The realization did her a fat load of good now. She’d already taken the brunt of the impact when it crashed into her, being knocked through the exterior wall, and crashing into the cement floor with all its weight on her.

  She could feel the cement give—crunching and crumbling beneath her—but the ground floor held, and the sudden violent stop took the wind from her lungs. Her head hit last. The helmet protected her skull but the hard knock against a cement pillar was dizzying.

  She’d taken falls and hits the last few days, but for the first time—Leah couldn’t shake it off.

  The light had fled as soon as they crashed through the outer wall. Her HUD triggered thermal vision on its own. Pinned, she was struggling to breathe, as the massive weight of the cloaked monster began to move on top of her.

  It would go for the neck—she knew it was coming, but her strength seemed useless—no leverage. This beast was strong and had her limbs pinned. As her panic surged, she felt the thing rearing up to bite down on top of her.

  Mustard gas erupted out of her suit’s vents—concentrated foulness clouding the air.

  The Ferox must have gotten a straight shot into the open mouth. The squeal sound that followed was like a startled pig. She felt its weight give just enough as it reared back. A long pull of air finally made its way into her lungs as she yanked her knee to her chest and kicked.

  Wild, but powerful, and her boot found her invisible assailant. The rest of the weight flew off her and a split second later a loud crash came from somewhere on the other side of the room. Leah rolled out of the gouge their landing had made in the floor. Her limbs barely obeying, hands and knees feeling as though she were trying to swim through pudding.

  “Mito?” she whispered into her comm.

  Her eyes searched for movement throughout the space. The EMP was setup like a museum with multiple cement tiers and various exhibitions. She’d landed somewhere near the bottom level.

  The thermal optics let her see obscured shapes and surfaces—far better than nothing—but still limited. What she didn’t see was a Feroxian form where her ears told her she was hearing the thing getting to its feet.

  Infrared—no better. Finally, despair beginning to creep in, she switched over to Night Vision.

  A ghostly apparition moved on the other side of the museum. She could make out obscured parts of a face, some torso, an arm. Dust from the cement, particulates, sticking to moisture of the mustard gas—it all looked like powder moving unnaturally in the air.

  Its hands were rubbing at its face.

  “Backup at EMP, a cloaked assailant engag—”

  Leah’s voice caught, losing her words as what was going on all around her froze her in fear. She heard heavy feet trying to step quietly through broken glass and debris somewhere above her. A display case shook, seemingly of its own accord on the opposite side of the room. The outline of claws appeared in a wall, as though something unseen crawled along the surface. The air was disturbed, near the floor, imprints of feet coming toward her in the dust.

  In short—there was more than one invisible thing in this darkness with her. Something fast bolted on the edge of her vision. An invisible shape flanking her. She heard movement, heavy feet landing on the open floor above.

  There had yet to be any word of the six cloaking units in Malkier’s possession—not a single report of engagement with an invisible attacker. If there had been such an attack, it had been quick, over before the victim so much as called for help. But they had all known the devices would come into play. Malkier would not just sit on so useful a weapon.

  “Mito?” she whispered again.

  He should have been here by now, but no answer came. She was alone.

  All together—acting as a pack—the cloaked Ferox—they could do far more damage if they were targeted assassins. What if Malkier’s play was always to wait for her to be isolated?

  “M—Multiple cloaked assailants,” Leah said. “They’re closing on me.”

  Beo’s voice came over the comm. “On ma way, Leah.”

  “Same,” Tam said. “We’re coming.”

  More shapes moved in the darkness. Too many to keep track of.

  Her map flashed Tam and Beo’s positions across her HUD and she knew they wouldn’t reach her in time. Mito’s dot was close. Except, she realized, it was still.

  He . . . he wasn’t moving . . .

  This was a setup. They had been watching . . . waiting for the perfect moment. Waiting for her to make the mistake of separating from the others. Her chest began to heave, her heart raced. She couldn’t fight this many, not blind.

  Jonathan’s voice came over the comm—blocked out all the others. “Leah. Listen to me. You’re faster than them, stronger than them. Pick a direction and run, don’t stop for anything.”

  He wanted her to run, he—well, actually he had a point.

  Maybe, her best move was to put another hole in the wall—linebacker her way out. She was quick; if she made it outside it wouldn’t matter that she couldn’t see them. She could just keep running.

  She reached to the back of her belt and took hold of her last flash bang. The movement didn’t go unnoticed—leading to a stirring of sound around her. They weren’t stupid—knew she’d sensed them. That if she was going to make a move, she only had the next few seconds. The only reason she could imagine that they hadn’t already closed on her was the mustard gas—the smell was so god-awful to them they assumed it dangerous—eventually they would realize it could simply be endured.

  She slowed her movement, slipped the grenade free—her other hand finding the pin.

  The heavy breathing of massive lungs drew close—small flecks of cement falling around her from the pillar. She shivered, wanted to scream and run—but knew it would give away that she’d sensed the creature creeping down the pillar toward her.

  She was starting to feel paralysis—too much panic—the adrenaline making her uncertain that her body would move when she told it to. Then—suddenly—she realized she could not move—couldn’t even blink of her own accord. The pounding in her heart began to slow—her breathing calming into a deliberate rhythm.

  Leah didn’t move and yet—her hand pulled the pin.

  A voice rose up from inside her. A voice that was angry and violent and unafraid. A voice that turned Leah’s despair to hope even as she lost any power over her body.

  “Get away from her, you bitch!” Rylee yelled.

  Minds met at a nexus as they gripped the grenade pin. In that instant, as the pin slipped free, they shared a moment of certainty. Their fears a mirror of one another.

  If Leah died, they died.

  If Leah died, the child died.

  If Leah died, the bond died.

  If Leah died, their world died.

  Rylee’s battle cry erupted as she dropped the grenade, and bolted, not forward but sideways.

  The room erupted with noise as six unseen foes reacted. They dove for her as the flash bomb triggered. The museum was suddenly awash in painful bright light.

  Rylee stopped hard, flipped backward over the grenade just as the creature coming at Leah from above was blinded. Her boot met it head on in the air, while beneath her, the other blinded creatures all rushed in to intercept her, but they rushed only to where she had feinted before they were blinded.

  In that moment, Rylee hadn’t thought that her kick would do anything more than knock the Ferox off guard—keep it from getting its unseen claws on her—yet as her boot came around with so much more power than she was used to, the attacker went shooting out away from her.

  Below her, the others collid
ed with one another as Rylee finished turning end over end and stuck the landing

  The power in her body rushed to her awareness. The strength given to her by Borealis DNA, magnitudes greater than anything she’d ever known. She had no time to be in awe of it, had precious seconds before her blinded opponents recovered their sight. But, while Leah’s eyes had searched the auditorium looking for escape—Rylee’s had been focused on how to change the rules of the game.

  As she drew Themyscira and dropped into a low graceful spin, she took aim at the first such game changer. She threw her rattan and moved, not waiting to see if she hit her target—the moment the weapon flew from her hand she knew her aim was true.

  She turned and mounted on the side of the pillar they’d hit when they landed; she saw the second game changer. She was ripping a fire extinguisher from the wall as her rattan penetrated another behind her blinded opponents. As white powder erupted—Feroxian shapes emerged—becoming a powdered outline in her vision.

  She hurled the second extinguisher into the midst of the group and hit the ground running. The extinguisher took one of the Ferox in the chest and exploded in a second puff of white, covering them such that little remained a mystery. Ghostly Feroxian faces looked up to see her flying toward them as they fought to shake off the last of their blindness.

  She’d recognized two Alphas—their size and shape too similar to Malkier’s to be anything else. It was the bigger one she hit first. She didn’t hold anything back, dropkicking the ghost Alpha with enough force to send him careening into those standing behind him. His body only clipped most of them but ran straight and true into the one at the rear. Together, those two ripped through one of the EMP’s load-bearing pillars. The entire building stuttered in shock as one of its foundations was suddenly gone.

  Rylee hadn’t stopped moving, thrust toward the floor by her dropkick she pounced from her hands back to her feet and raced forward again. She somersaulted, leaving one Ferox shooting over her. Then reminded herself that she was still fighting as if they were the ones with the power. She met the next apparition head on in the air, brought her knee in to the collision. Felt the metal of its skull bend around her as she came crashing through and sent its body flying to the ground out ahead of her.