Evie frowned, glanced up at the lights. “I don’t hear anything.” She thumped the side of one of the spotlights and cocked her head to listen.
“You don’t?” Victor looked up from behind his camera. “Sounds like a bee or someth—”
The sky lit up. Brilliant light washed over the cove, drowning out the spotlights. The clouds glowed purple and red and black.
“What the hell?” Victor scrambled around and held his camera up to the false dawn of the sky.
Evie heard it now. The whining. It was coming from far off, the direction of the water. It didn’t sound like a bee at all. It sounded like a machine.
She stepped away from the spotlights, letting them drop out of formation, and drifted down next to Victor, who was filming. “What do you think’s going on?” he asked. “Some kind of training?”
But Evie heard the tremble in his voice, the dissonant squeak of fear. Both his sisters were in the UNSC. He knew as well as she did.
Purple light streaked across the sky, from one cloud to another. Something boomed like thunder, and the cloud turned bloody and then rippled with black smoke.
“What the—” Victor said softly, dropping the camera.
Panic seized at Evie—was this why her father hadn’t contacted her? Images intruded into her thoughts, of him lying slumped at his desk, a shadow with a plasma rifle lurking behind him. She scrambled for her comm pad. No messages. No alerts. She pulled up her dad’s channel and tried to connect. Searching, the message on the screen said. Searching … Searching …
“The networks are down,” she gasped. She felt as if she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, as if the Covenant were sucking the oxygen out of the atmosphere. But no, that wasn’t how they attacked. Her mother had told her once, a few months ago, a serious conversation while she was home on leave, one that Evie tried her best not to think about—
Another boom in the sky. The brilliant light was fading, leaving spots in Evie’s vision. But the clouds still flashed with streaks of purple light.
Victor was checking his own comm pad. “Yeah, the network’s down for me too.” He squinted up at the sky. “How far away do you think they are?”
Evie sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t know.” Far enough away that they couldn’t see anything. But close enough that they could hear it. Which meant the Covenant had breached Meridian’s atmosphere. “We need to get back to the village,” she said. “The shelter—”
Victor nodded faintly, still gazing at the sky. Evie jostled his arm. “Victor!” she shouted. “We have to go!”
Victor blinked, shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. “You’re right,” he muttered. “Help me get the stuff together.”
Evie wanted to scream at him to leave it, but she choked the panic back and gathered up the dragon and set it in the box. Then she knelt beside Victor and fumbled with the village. Her hands were shaking. Every time something boomed up in the sky, she jumped and nearly dropped the delicate buildings.
“Slow down,” Victor said gently, his mouth close to her ear. “You can’t let yourself panic in a fight. That’s what Camila told me.”
“We’re not in a fight.” Evie’s voice was shrill. But she slowed her movements. Her hands still trembled, but she didn’t feel like she was on the verge of collapsing anymore.
“Focus on the task,” Victor said. “Think about your training.”
“Training?” Evie said with a strangled voice.
“Camila showed us how to shoot those guns,” Victor said.
For some reason, this struck Evie as funny, and she started laughing. The sky was burning, the Covenant were attacking, she was crouched vulnerable by the ocean gathering up toys. The idea that an afternoon firing rifles on the beach was enough to protect her from death was absurd.
And so, she laughed.
“Evie? Stop.” She felt the weight of a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at Victor frowning at her. Tears burned in her eyes.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said.
“We need to get back to town,” he said. “That was a good idea. Get to town and get to the shelter. Go wait in the car. I’ll get the rest of the props.”
Evie took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” She stood up. Did not let herself look at the sky. Did not let herself think about the stench of fire on the air, or the sting of smoke and tears in her eyes. “You told me to stay calm. I feel better now. I can do it.” She switched off the spotlights and folded them up. Her hands weren’t shaking anymore.
She walked toward the car with a blank numbness. Tossed the spotlights into the trunk. She thought idly about her dad, about how furious he was going to be when she got home. You snuck out during a Covenant attack!
She giggled, the hysteria bubbling up inside her again, although she shoved it back down. Stay calm, she told herself. Stay calm.
Victor tottered over with the box of props and shoved it into the trunk.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Straight to the shelter.”
Tightness squeezed at Evie’s chest. “What if no one went there, though? Should we go home first, see what people are doing?”
Victor frowned. “Let’s see when we get into town. Okay?”
There was that tremble of fear in his voice again. Evie nodded.
They climbed into the car. Victor pulled away from the cove, and Evie watched the burning sky get eaten by the silhouettes of the forest as the car rumbled down the overgrown road. When the trees overlapped behind them, enclosing them in the forest, Evie focused her gaze on the road unspooling through the trees.
Neither Evie nor Victor spoke, and the silence was strangling. Everything looked eerie in the misty glow of the headlights. Vines and weeds seemed to crawl toward the car, as if they wanted to wrap around it and hold it in place.
A drop of water landed on the windshield. Another. Another.
“Great,” Victor sighed, switching on the glass dryer.
The rain pattered against the car’s roof. Evie sank back in her seat and checked her comm pad again. Network could not be found. Try again? She tapped yes.
Searching … Searching … Searching …
And then Evie was flung forward, the seat belt digging into her chest. Her comm pad clattered across the dash.
“Victor!” she shouted.
But Victor only sat trembling in the driver’s seat, his face ashy, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
Evie turned to where he looked and felt the bottom of her stomach fall out.
Something stood on the road, just on the edge of the headlights. It was tall and sinewy, and she might have mistaken it for a human except for its long, narrow snout, tall quills running along its head, and legs that seemed to bend the wrong way.
“Oh my god,” she breathed.
It stepped into the light, the unnervingly pale skin on its bare arms gleaming wet from the rain. Although it was clad in some kind of armor, it stared at them with empty yellow eyes like it was a feral animal. Took another jerking, birdlike step forward. Its hands were empty, Evie realized. No weapon.
“Victor,” Evie whispered.
“I don’t know what to do.” His voice vibrated in fear.
The creature crouched.
“It’s going to jump on us!” Evie shrieked. “Go! Go!”
The engine revved, and the car shot forward, throwing rocks up around them into the rain. The alien shot up out of the way and landed a second later on the roof. Victor screamed and jerked the steering wheel, and the car careened into the thick underbrush of the forest. The creature pounded on the roof, denting the metal.
“Victor!” Evie screamed.
“I’m trying!” Branches slapped across the windshield. Cracks appeared in the glass. The thing—whatever it was—was still slamming into the roof. Evie heard the scrape of metal and a growly shriek. Jackals, she thought, remembering the conversations with her mother. Mom called that one a Jackal.
“Hol
d on!” Victor shouted just as the car rammed into the trunk of a golden rain tree. The Jackal hit the hood, bounced, slammed into the tree. It snarled at them, its narrow beak revealing a row of jagged, shining teeth. Then it slammed its forearm against the windshield. A spiderweb of cracks raced along the glass.
“Get in the back!” Evie screamed, and she scrambled over the seat. “We can get out through the trunk.”
“It’ll just chase us!”
“Don’t let it see us!” She felt around in the cushions for the release latch. “Victor! Help me!”
He crawled on top of her, his body damp with sweat. “Dammit, Evie, get out of the way!”
“Get off me!”
Then came the melodic scatter of broken glass and a roar that pierced at Evie’s ears. She rolled onto her back and kicked without thinking; her foot connected with the Jackal’s beak, and its head jerked back. It slammed its three-fingered claws to its face and met her gaze, its eyes burning with rage.
“Got it!” Victor shouted. The seat popped out and hit Evie on the head. The Jackal lunged forward and Evie kicked out again, but this time it grabbed her by the ankle, its clawed fingers squeezing so tight she felt the bones of her foot grinding together.
Evie screamed and flailed, reaching out for Victor, who wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled. But the Jackal was stronger. It yanked her leg through the gap in the front seats. She stuck out her free leg, tried to catch herself. Pain burst up her leg, through her hip. Victor screamed in her ear. The Jackal leaned in and hissed. Pulled.
She slammed forward. The absence of Victor’s grip burned more painfully than the hand at her ankle. She screamed and thrashed, but the Jackal grabbed her other ankle and yanked her through the windshield. Rain splattered across her face. The Jackal flung her into the bushes and then jumped, landing with a shuddering thud beside her. Evie screamed. Rainwater flooded into her mouth.
The Jackal crouched over her, muttering in hisses and squawks. Its teeth flashed, and Evie heard her mother’s voice, staticky from the transmission feedback: It was the damn Jackals. They’d eaten the survivors. Eaten them, Evie.
Evie screamed and flung her body sideways, ferns and mud hitting her face. The Jackal roared and yanked her back by the arm, and Evie felt around in the underbrush with her free hand, fingers squelching in the mud. Everything was dirt and leaves, nothing she could use as a weapon.
Evie looked up at the Jackal. Her face was wet with rain and tears. She screamed in rage and shoved her fist into the side of its head. It roared, leaned back—
Something cracked in the forest.
Hot liquid spilled across Evie’s face.
The Jackal froze, its eyes wide with surprise. Then it slumped and hit the ground and lay unmoving.
Dead, Evie thought.
With that, she realized what the liquid was, and she shrieked, trying to wipe it off with her hands. She scrambled up to her feet, dizzy with disgust and relief. The Jackal still didn’t move.
“Are you okay?”
It wasn’t Victor. It was a girl’s voice. Evie looked up. Blinked.
Saskia Nazari stood a few meters away, cradling a sleek black rifle in her arms.
“Saskia?” Evie gasped.
Saskia turned her gaze to the Jackal lying in the underbrush. “Did I get it?”
“I—” Evie looked at the Jackal again. “I think so?”
“Evie?” Victor threw open the car door. “What happ—Saskia?”
Saskia glanced at him over her shoulder. She didn’t look like herself, wearing nothing but a pair of ripped jeans and a baggy shirt, her dark eyeliner streaked, her hair straggly from the rain. Holding a gun. Then she looked back at Evie and held out one hand.
“Come on,” she said. “We can go back to my place. It’s not on the same energy system as the town.”
Evie grabbed Saskia’s hand, and Saskia pulled her forward, wrapping an arm around Evie’s shoulder, propping her up. Evie’s ankle felt weak beneath her weight.
“You too,” Saskia shouted at Victor, who blinked at her in shock.
“But we need to get to town,” Evie whispered.
“You can’t.” Saskia kept her gaze fixed ahead as they limped over the undergrowth. “The Covenant are there.”
Saskia walked Evie through the woods toward her house, that boy Victor trailing behind them. The rain picked up, washing the blood and dirt from Evie’s face. It also made it almost impossible to talk.
The woods now felt unfamiliar despite the hours Saskia had spent in them, sitting on a fallen tree and sketching, or listening to music as she strolled through the trees at night. The rain made everything shimmery and indistinct, and Saskia’s thoughts were fuzzy. Already the memory of killing the Covenant creature was fading, replaced by flashes of sensations: the weight of the gun in her hands, the echo of Evie’s screaming, the terror rising like bile in the back of Saskia’s throat. Her ears were still ringing from the shot, which was louder than she expected. All the other times she had fired her parents’ guns, she had been wearing sound dampeners. She wondered if her ears would ring for the rest of her life.
“How’d you know we were out here?” Evie mumbled. Her steps were heavy and confused. Saskia knew she’d need to look at her ankle when they got back.
“The security system,” Saskia said. “You drove through the boundary and set off the alarms. When I saw what was happening on the holos—”
“You saved me,” Evie finished.
“You would have done the same,” Saskia said, having no idea if it were true.
The glow of her house appeared through the trees, the incandescent security lights bouncing off the massive iron walls. Saskia heard Evie gasp beside her.
“Is it always like that?” Victor asked, falling into step beside them. “No offense, but it looks like a prison.”
“This is some kind of automated barricade system,” Evie said, shifting her weight. “Isn’t it? Don’t your parents work for Chalybs Defense Solutions? I heard they were developing state-of-the-art security systems.”
Saskia’s face flushed. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s a prototype. New technology. That’s how I knew about the—attack. The walls came up.” She adjusted her weight, making sure she still had a strong grip on Evie. “Come on, let’s get inside. In case there are—more.”
Evie nodded. The two of them continued their stumbling walk up to the wall. Dirt and shredded plants lay scattered around the wall’s base from where it had shot up out of the earth earlier. Saskia barely remembered where the security gate was—it had been designed to blend into the smooth, charcoal walls. But then she spotted the faint indentation, in the iron, and when she pressed her palm against it, a holography keypad materialized in the air. Saskia put in the entrance code. The entrance slid open.
“Wow,” Victor said. “I couldn’t even tell there was a door there.”
Saskia shrugged and walked Evie up to the front door of her house. Victor’s footsteps pounded on the pathway behind them.
With a sudden whisk and a violent clang, the entrance gate slammed shut behind them and locked tight.
“Whoa!” Victor whirled around, staring at the smooth wall. “That’s crazy.”
“It really is,” Evie said. “I had no idea this kind of technology was even available yet.”
Saskia’s cheeks burned. She felt like Evie was accusing her of something. “I don’t know much about it, just that they installed everything a few weeks ago. This is the first time I’ve actually seen it.”
“Are your parents home?” Victor was still staring up at the wall, which must have been at least ten meters tall.
“No.” Saskia didn’t want to elaborate. “Come on, let’s get inside. I have something for your ankle.”
She and Evie hobbled up the steps, and Saskia put in the security code and pushed open the front door. The foyer echoed around them.
“Wow,” Evie breathed, her gaze going up to the big glass chandelier hanging above the stair
case.
Saskia didn’t say anything, just kept walking, guiding Evie and Victor to the living room. She was aware of both of them gaping at the inside of her house, with its huge, airy rooms and her mother’s immaculate artwork choices hanging on the walls. She was the only person in town who lived in a house like this. She supposed that made her lucky, but it also made her strange. And there was nothing worse in a town like Brume-sur-Mer than being strange.
She helped Evie onto the couch, then propped her foot up on the ottoman. Evie’s ankle was swollen and red, mottled with angry, dark bruises.
“It grabbed me,” Evie said weakly. “And dragged me out of the car.” She laid her head against the couch’s cushions. In the living room’s bright lights Saskia could see the extent of her injuries, all the bruises and scrapes slashing across her bare skin. She was aware too of Victor hovering behind her, quiet and unmoving, his face pale. Apparently he’d been in the car the whole time—she hadn’t even known he was there until he crawled out after she had killed the soldier.
She glanced back at him. His eyes were dark and solemn. He saw her looking and jerked his gaze away.
“You didn’t have any weapons,” she said to him, then immediately regretted it when he scowled at the floor.
“She’s right,” Evie said. “We’re just lucky she saw us.”
Victor shrugged, wandered over to the big picture window, even though it was too dark to see anything but his reflection.
“Were you able to get on a comm channel?” Evie asked. “Our networks were all down.”
Saskia shook her head. “Mine cut out a while ago. I haven’t tried since. Let me get the first aid kit and then we can try again.”
She left the two of them in the living room. Her house felt big and empty and echoing as she bounded up the stairs to her bathroom, where they kept the health pack. Her parents had been gone for nearly a week—were, in fact, gone most of the time—but she still hadn’t gotten used to being alone in such an enormous house.
HALO: Battle Born Page 5
