HALO: Battle Born

Home > Science > HALO: Battle Born > Page 11
HALO: Battle Born Page 11

by Cassandra Rose Clarke


  The Spartan leaned his head back and groaned, his eyes blazing, his jaw clenched. Saskia sat quietly, not sure how to react. Part of her wanted to reach over and smooth his short hair, a gesture that had calmed her the last time she’d had biofoam injected. But she wasn’t sure it was appropriate. So she just sat, and waited, listening to the rain pound against the roof of the porch.

  Then the Spartan let out a long, gasping sigh. His head dropped toward her.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice strained. “It’s working.”

  “You saved Victor and me,” she said. “There’s no point in letting you limp around.”

  “I’ll need more than biofoam to get back to normal,” he said. “But this helps.”

  Saskia smiled weakly. “Do you have a name? I’m Saskia, by the way.”

  “Saskia,” he said, then closed his eyes and nodded. “I’m Owen.”

  It was such a startlingly ordinary name that Saskia broke into a grin. But then he said, “Owen-B096.” Her grin vanished. A human name—but not quite.

  “It’s good to meet you, Owen,” she said softly. He didn’t protest.

  The first thing Evie did when she came in from the woods was peel off her damp, clammy clothes and stand underneath the shower without moving. The hot, clean water soaked into her muscles and slowed down her racing heart. But whenever she closed her eyes she still saw the blood caked across Victor’s face, his eyes bright and glittering and unfamiliar.

  She didn’t know what had happened to them. Only that they’d been attacked, that the Spartan had saved them somehow. Dorian had been right—they shouldn’t have split up. Shouldn’t have sent them into town.

  When the shower started to cool, she switched it off, dried herself, and pulled out an old shirt and trousers from the stack of clothes that Saskia had brought her that morning. “My old stuff,” she’d said. “If it doesn’t fit, let me know.”

  The clothes did fit, even though Evie was smaller than Saskia. At some point they must have been the same size. Some phantom Saskia, from the time before she lived in Brume-sur-Mer.

  Evie stepped out into the dim hallway. Rain pattered on the roof, although the rolls of thunder sounded far away. She knocked on Victor’s door, at the end of the hall—they had claimed rooms this morning, before they set out on their ill-fated mission.

  “Yeah?” Victor called out.

  “You okay?”

  The door swung open. Victor looked like himself again, with no mask of blood. The long cut across his forehead was already turning pink.

  “I’ve been better,” he said, “but I’ll live.”

  He pushed the door open wider and Evie stepped in. The room was big and airy and tastefully decorated—about as different as possible from the messy cave that was Victor’s actual bedroom.

  “What happened to you out there?” she asked.

  “We ran into the Covenant.” Victor leaned up against the wall, his arms crossed. He had on some of Saskia’s dad’s clothes, a button-down shirt and black dress pants that hung too big on his skinny frame. “We’re lucky it was just one. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Probably close to four meters tall, like a walking tank, and it didn’t stop coming for us.”

  “Good god,” Evie murmured.

  “It was pretty messed up,” Victor said.

  Evie nodded, and then they descended into an awkward silence, the rain beating out that constant rhythm against the windows. Her best friend had almost gotten blown up and all she’d done was hack into a town computer and then get stuck.

  “You wanna go downstairs?” Victor said suddenly. “See what everyone else is up to?”

  Evie grinned. “You think that Spartan has stuck around?”

  “Where else would he go?”

  Evie and Victor left the room together. A low hum of voices drifted up from downstairs. She glanced at Victor, who shrugged, then headed toward the narrow staircase curving its way into the front foyer. She followed him down into the living room, where she expected to find Saskia and Dorian and instead found Saskia and a man who looked like a robot, his body hidden beneath a layer of heavy armor.

  “Are you—” she started.

  “This is Owen,” Saskia said. “Well, Owen and some numbers, but Owen is easier.”

  Owen smiled a little. Despite his height and hulking armor, he looked like he could be an athlete at the college in Port Moyne. It was startling, the idea that a Spartan could be so young. When she heard the rumors, she imagined grizzled old men behind those blank faceplates. Not a boy with dark, shrouded eyes.

  Footsteps echoed against the walls, and then Dorian appeared, looking uncomfortable and strange in Saskia’s father’s castoffs. His hair hung in a wet ribbon down the center of his back.

  “I see we’ve decided to commune,” he said.

  They all looked at one another for a moment, not saying anything. Owen radiated from the center like the sun.

  “Owen thinks we should evacuate,” Saskia said.

  Evie’s entire body went cold. “Evacuate?” she cried. “And leave our families behind?”

  “Evacuation is the best course of action right now,” Owen said.

  “No!” Evie glanced over at Victor, and he seemed as horrified as she felt. “The whole reason we tried to go into town in the first place was because we know people can’t stay in the shelter forever. And you want us to abandon them?” She felt her voice rising in pitch, her heart pounding against her rib cage. “We have family and friends down there! Our teachers and our neighbors—we can’t just leave them to die. Not to mention Dorian still doesn’t know what happened to his bandmates. We can’t just leave.”

  She knew everyone was staring at her, but she kept her gaze on Owen, who looked back at her blandly.

  “Evie’s right.” Victor lifted his head. “I’m not leaving Meridian without my parents. I’m not.”

  “You saw what that thing almost did to us!” Saskia said quietly. “If we stay, we’re going to get ourselves killed.”

  “Better to die fighting than hole up like a bunch of rich cowards,” Victor snapped.

  Saskia froze, her eyes dark and glittering, her mouth tight with anger. It was the first time they’d acknowledged that unspoken truth—Saskia wasn’t like the rest of them. A hundred years ago, their families had fought against the control that families like Saskia’s had tried to exert over them. It was easy to forget when you had a common enemy. Easy, until it wasn’t anymore.

  “Stop it.” Owen stood to his full height, and he suddenly seemed to take up the entire room. “You can’t do anything for your families if you’re killed. It’s my job to get you to safety.” He looked at them, his expression hard. “My job to get your families to safety too. Which is exactly what I’ll do once you’re at the UNSC shelter in Port Moyne.”

  He stalked toward the door. Saskia stood up and followed him. But Evie and Dorian and Victor all stayed put.

  Owen stopped in the doorway. He didn’t turn around to look at them. “You’re just making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

  Evie glanced at Dorian. His expression was unreadable. She thought he almost looked angry.

  “How do you feel about this?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to leave my nephew behind,” he said softly.

  Owen finally looked back at them. “You’re not,” he said. “I’ll come back for him. I’ll come back for all your families. Now let’s go.”

  Evie thought about her father down in the shelter. The last thing she’d said to him had been a lie—as he’d left for his meeting, he’d asked about her plans for the evening and she’d told him something about staying in to study. Now he probably thought she was dead.

  But she knew too that Owen was right. What could she and the others do? She thought of Victor stepping out of the woods, his face covered in blood. They weren’t soldiers. They were lucky they’d survived this long.

  She took a deep breath and moved toward the door. Owen stepped aside an
d let her pass through the threshold, into the hallway. She didn’t say anything to Victor, or to Dorian, but she heard their footsteps behind her.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Saskia whispered to her, but Evie just shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about it with her.

  They gathered in the foyer, everyone quiet, their gazes downcast. Owen’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, and then he appeared, clutching his rifle in both hands. It was at least twice the size of Saskia’s rifle, and much meaner-looking.

  “Roads are likely being monitored,” he said. “So we’ll be going by foot.”

  Dorian groaned. “You expect us to walk all the way to Port Moyne?”

  Owen glared at him. “We’ll keep to the underbrush. Safest way. If we’re lucky, we’ll run into some UNSC or Meridian scouts and they can take us in.”

  “You can’t call for backup?” Evie blurted. “Have someone come get us? Wouldn’t that be safer than walking?”

  “Yeah, good point,” Victor added. “I mean, since you’re so worried about keeping us safe and all.”

  Owen stared at them, unblinking. Eventually, he said, “The Covenant’s jamming all comm channels, even the military’s. There’s no way to get calls out. The only way out is on foot.”

  Evie gasped, heard murmurs of surprise from the others too.

  “Do you even know if there’s a shelter in Port Moyne?” Dorian demanded.

  “Yes,” Owen said. “And to tell you how I know would be classified. We’re moving out. No more questions.”

  He pushed past them, stepping out onto the front porch. Twilight had arrived while they’d been cleaning up, flashes of sunset peeking out from behind the heavy rain clouds. Insects chirruped off in the woods, shrill and keening.

  “Here goes nothing,” Victor sighed to Evie as they stepped out into the hazy light. Owen marched across the lawn, Saskia trailing behind him. She opened up the gate, and they went out into the open woods.

  Owen stopped, turned toward them. “Stay quiet,” he said. “Do as I tell you.” He paused. “And I promise you’ll make it out in one piece.”

  “More UNSC lies,” Dorian murmured, and if Owen heard him, he didn’t say anything.

  For the second time that day, they clambered out into the humid woods. This time, Evie’s dread was wound up tight with her guilt—at sneaking out, at leaving her father behind in the shelter. Maybe she’d be able to get a message to him once they arrived in Port Moyne. Owen had said the comm channels were scrambled. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe some were still working. At least the ones out of Port Moyne.

  They walked single file through the lush, damp undergrowth for at least an hour, following the main highway out of town but staying clear of it. As the light dimmed, the shriek of insects grew louder, until it was the only thing Evie thought she’d ever hear again.

  Up ahead, Owen froze, lifted one hand in a fist. The others all crumpled together into a stop.

  “What is it?” Victor asked, and Evie slapped at him to be quiet.

  “Stay here,” Owen said in a dangerously low voice. Then he darted off into the foliage, vanishing into the green shadows.

  But they did as he asked, and they stayed in place, not moving. Evie listened to the familiar screech of the insects. It seemed even louder out here, a kind of staticky hum reverberating underneath the chorus.

  “Do you hear that?” Saskia asked softly, pressing close to Evie.

  “It’s just bugs,” Evie said.

  Saskia shook her head. “No. I hear something else—”

  Something cracked and Evie jumped and one of the boys let out a shout. All four of them huddled together.

  A soft rustling rang out from the undergrowth.

  Owen reappeared. “Bad news,” he said.

  Evie exchanged worried glances with Victor and Saskia.

  “What sort of bad news?” Dorian asked, breaking away from the others.

  Owen’s shoulders hitched. “Come and see. But stay quiet.” He whirled around and vanished back into the growth, but this time Dorian followed. Evie glanced over at Victor. He shrugged, but his eyes were wide and bright and terrified.

  Saskia edged forward, looked over her shoulder at the others. “He wouldn’t do anything to put us in danger.”

  “I guess,” Victor said, but he followed Saskia, and Evie followed him. They wound through the vines and dripping tree branches. The strange humming grew louder, and a sick weight filled up Evie’s stomach. Eerie violet light filtered through the trees. The air felt strange. Like the way air felt right before a lightning storm.

  And then Victor shoved some branches aside and bright purplish-green light flooded across them. Evie blinked. At first, all she could see was light. Then she made out the shapes of Dorian and Owen, darkened into silhouettes. Beyond them—light. Light shimmering fluidly. Plasma.

  “Oh my god,” she breathed.

  It was an energy shield. Charred plant matter lay in heaps at its base, and when Evie lifted her gaze, she couldn’t see the top. It was as if the shield had replaced the sky.

  “We’re trapped,” Saskia said flatly.

  “It looks that way.” Owen kept staring at the energy shield. “They’ve put Brume-sur-Mer under a defensive canopy. It’s a dome energy barrier. Nothing in, nothing out.”

  Terror vibrated up Evie’s spine. For all that she hadn’t wanted to leave her dad in the shelter, suddenly the thought that she was trapped here, with the Covenant, made her breath tight and panicky. She tottered to one side, her arm lashing out against Victor, who caught her, held her steady.

  “Get down!” Owen shouted suddenly, whirling in a sudden flash of movement. The muzzle of his rifle lit up bright white, and the sound of gunfire bored into Evie’s head. She yanked Victor down into the muddy ground as Owen jumped over both of them, firing into the woods.

  Pale plasma bolts zipped overhead, melting into the shield.

  “Retreat!” Owen shouted, but Evie didn’t know where they could possibly retreat to. Shadows emerged from the trees up ahead. Incomprehensible chatter rose up from the brush. Evie sunk herself into the mud, her hands pressed over the top of her head. Energy from the Covenant’s shield sparked over her skin. She knew she couldn’t stay burrowed here in the mud.

  She lifted her gaze in time to see Owen pound his fist into the mask of one of the Unggoy attackers. The glass cracked, and the Unggoy slammed into the ground, screeching. Owen fired off into the darkness and then glanced down at Evie. “Get out of here,” he said. “Stay low.”

  “I know,” she shouted as he slunk forward, still firing his rifle. Something darted out of the woods—another Unggoy? No, it looked too big.

  Evie squirmed through the grass and fallen leaves and the puddles of dirty rainwater. The air was heavy with acrid smoke. Something behind her was burning, but she didn’t look back, just pressed forward the way they’d come, into the safety of the trees.

  She bumped into something warm and solid, and she let out a shriek of terror.

  “Quiet!” the warm solid something hissed.

  “Dorian?” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” Leaves rustled, and then his face was close to hers, his hair clotted with mud. “Where are the others?”

  The rattle of Owen’s rifle exploded through the woods.

  “Some evacuation this turned out to be,” Dorian muttered.

  They crawled into a net of tangled tree branches. Evie propped herself up on her toes and peered out at the clearing: The energy shield glowed steadily, plasma rippling across it like ocean waves. A plasma bolt hit it, and the whole thing shimmered but stayed put; from somewhere she couldn’t see came a strangled alien scream.

  “I don’t see anyone,” she said, her voice tight with worry.

  Something crashed in the underbrush, the steps too heavy to be human. Evie’s body tensed, her hands curling into fists. Beside her, Dorian straightened his spine, his expression fierce.

  The crashing came closer. Closer— />
  A flash of reflected light. A dark, urgent voice: “Move. Get back to the house.”

  “Owen!” Evie cried, then immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. Owen jerked his head, his eyes hidden by his faceplate.

  “I’ve already sent the others ahead,” he told her. “You can meet up with them there. I’ll be right behind you. Now move!”

  Evie looked over at Dorian. He nodded at her.

  Together, they turned and ran back toward Brume-sur-Mer.

  “So what do you know?” Dorian demanded.

  They were in the safe room of Saskia’s house, three layers of protection between the five of them and the Covenant crawling through the town: the fence, the expensive Erse auto-locks on the front door, the vacuum-sealed safe room. Evie pressed her knees to her chest. The mud had dried in a hard shell over her clothes.

  Owen looked at them. He had removed his helmet, and his skin was still shiny with sweat.

  “That could have gone better,” he said.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Dorian said. “What’s going on out there? Why do they have a shield around Brume-sur-Mer?”

  “Seriously,” Victor said. “Why aren’t they going after Angoulême or Avignon?”

  Owen held up one hand. “I don’t know, and even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

  Victor slumped back. He was sitting next to Evie, both of them sprawled out on the cold floor.

  “I’ll tell you what I can, though.” Owen rubbed his forehead. “Since it appears we’re stranded here for the time being.”

  Evie shivered. As much as she’d hated the idea of evacuating, the idea of being trapped actually felt worse.

  “I’ll start with this,” Owen said. “The Covenant attack didn’t actually begin last night.”

  “What?” Evie blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Meridian’s Air Force have been fighting them off around Hestia V for the past week or so,” Owen said. “Giving them hell too. But our people got overpowered. Last night was when the Covenant finally broke through. I’ve been fighting them for the last three days, trying to stop them from getting to the surface.” Something in his demeanor changed: A shadow flickered across his eyes, his shoulders rounded slightly. “We let you down, and I’m sorry for that.”

 

‹ Prev