Escape From Zulaire

by Veronica Scott

  Tom opened the passenger door and jumped in, slamming the door shut. “Let’s go. Accelerate when you hit the on-ramp. The truck will follow.”

  Automatically, she reached for the controls, then had a second thought. “Should I use the lights?”

  He checked the sky above. “Can you manage with just the moonlight?”

  She nodded.

  “All right, no lights then,” Tom said. “Now punch it.”

  Doing as she was told, revving the engine, Andi wasted no time. Her passengers were both jolted back by her rapid acceleration out of the yard. At the controls of this fast groundcar, she felt good, more in charge of her own fate.

  “Don’t get too far ahead of Mitch.” Tom checked behind to see how the cargo hauler fared. “We worked on the truck for hours. I guarantee it’s never been so babied in its life span, but the thing’s still a damn mud crawler compared to this beauty.”

  “Can’t get eight people in here, sir,” Rogers said.

  “Not if they’re all as big as you, soldier.” Tom laughed.

  Andi found a speed at which she wouldn’t pull too far ahead of the massive truck and set the cruise control. I just want to push the engine to the manufacturer’s limit and then some. Mitch could never keep up, though. She eyed the readouts, checking the fuel levels before her gaze drifted to the badly dented com console. “Do you think the com will work after you beat it up? Maybe someone else is on duty, someone with more sense.”

  Tom’s smile was sheepish.

  Probably regretting that earlier loss of control.

  “We can try,” he said. “For as many credits as Tonkiln spent on this car, it should be able to take abuse and still function.” He checked the time. “Shift change would’ve been a little while ago. Here goes nothing.” Activating the com, he reset to the military frequency and the unit produced a reassuring hum. “Patrol KJ123, calling Command.” Tom repeated the call sign twice before a powerful return broadcast cut across his words.

  “Captain Deverane, it is so good to hear from you. Give us your coordinates, and we’ll send an extraction team. Is Miss Markriss with you?”

  Quietly, Tom thumbed the comlink closed.

  Surprised and annoyed, Andi stared at him, not the road, for a second. “Why didn’t you answer him, tell him where we are?”

  “Because it wasn’t Sectors Command on the link. The Betang like to play tricks. You were right. They must be close to come in so clear. Damn, I wish the truck could go faster.” Tom twisted in his seat to stare behind them at the cargo hauler. “Accelerate a bit. Let’s see if Mitch can coax anymore out of the old girl.”

  But when Andi sped up by a few more miles per hour, she drew away from their companion vehicle.

  “Never mind, slow down, come even with them on the passenger side,” Tom said. “I need to talk to Mitch.”

  “I’ll try.” Slow down? Andi concentrated on her driving for the next few minutes. The entire transportway stretched eerily empty on both sides, except for their two vehicles. The last medinject had numbed the blaster sear, leaving her calm and loose but clear headed. How long do I have before the effect wears off? Mitch said he couldn’t give me anymore for forty-eight hours. Remembering the crippling pain she’d been suffering, she blew her breath out through her teeth. Make me an addict—I don’t care! I’ll detox later.

  Tom leaned across her, shouting out the window at Mitch across the nerve-rackingly small gap between the two vehicles as they barreled down the transportway. “The Betang tried to decoy us into giving away our position on the com a few minutes ago. I figure they must be following us.”

  Mitch grimaced, keeping his eyes on the road. “Not too hard to guess where we’re headed.”

  Tom jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the rear. “We’ll drop back and see if anyone’s coming. You keep going as fast as the hunk of junk will motor, okay?”

  “Got it, sir. Good hunting.” Mitch waved as Andi slowed even further and fell behind the cargo hauler, looping the car around in a big U-turn to return the way she’d come. She had to grit her teeth to make herself drive into the possible pursuit. Her hands were shaking on the wheel, so she tightened her grip till her knuckles went white.

  Tom reached over and pried one of her hands loose from the wheel, rubbing it softly. “Take us five miles in this direction.” He looked at her face, eyes narrowed. “You’re doing a great job.”

  She frowned at him. “I hate this, you know. Every instinct I have is telling me I’m crazy to go back toward South Amri.”

  “I have to see if there’s any sign of pursuit,” he said patiently.

  “Oh, I know. I’m just telling you—”

  Searing pain stabbed across her skull. Raising both hands instinctively to her forehead as the mind touch of the Betang drilled its way into her consciousness, Andi forgot all about driving. The contact was stronger than when she’d awakened from her nap in the South Amri vehicle servicing bay. Her chest constricted, and she heard herself wheeze. Veering sharply to the left, the car decelerated.

  “Andi, snap out of it! Take the controls.” Tom’s voice sounded as if it was coming from a long distance.

  Her vision narrowed. The pressure and buzzing flooded her mind, further inhibiting each strained breath and fluttering heartbeat.

  Speaking right next to her ear, Tom said, “You have to drive this thing. Breathe.”

  Andi squinted her eyes open but was still in too much pain to move, other than to hit the brakes. She watched, paralyzed as the vehicle slewed across the transportway and bumped over the edge of the road, coming to a stop about three feet onto the shoulder, just short of the drop-off to the drainage canal running alongside. Hunching over in the driver’s seat, she clutched her temples, her whole body trembling. She had to fight to get any air into her lungs.

  “Now what?” Rogers yelled.

  “Keep your eyes open, soldier. Watch your tracker readout.” Andi heard the passenger door lock disengage, then cool air brushed over her as Tom popped her own door open. Awkwardly, he embraced her in the confined space. “Sweetheart, you’ve got to fight this off. You’re the only one who can drive us out of here.”

  She opened her eyes but blinked them shut again as even the faint moonlight sent stabbing pain through her eyeballs. Stomach heaving, she leaned around him and retched. “I can’t breathe. My head hurts like it’s going to explode.”

  “The Betang must be coming—we have a narrow window of time to escape. Try to hold it off, concentrate,” Tom said.

  Moaning, she let her head fall forward onto his shoulder. Stroking her hair, he kissed her cheek.

  Andi leaned on him for a minute, trying to absorb his strength. Her chest loosened up a little as she breathed in the spice and musk of his scent. Pulling in more oxygen reduced the headache slightly. Moving as if her head might fall off, she straightened. “I’ll try.”

  “That’s the Andi I know,” Tom said, patting her on the shoulder before sprinting around the car back to his seat.

  Fumbling, vision full of blank spots and squiggly lightning bolts, Andi managed to get the car into reverse, bumping onto the transportway again. Turning in fits and starts, she pointed the nose away from South Amri.

  “Punch it,” Tom said in Andi’s right ear.

  She slammed on the acceleration, trusting him to steer. The little sports vehicle responded in an instant, pinning her into her seat and probably leaving poor Rogers jammed against the rough edge of his makeshift moon roof.

  “Tracker readout shows targets, sir,” Rogers shouted.

  She thought her heart was going to pound its way right out of her chest. “Distance?”

  “Fifteen miles out, coming steadily.”

  Gritting her teeth, Andi put her head down and activated the final power reserves. The car hurtled along the dark transportway.

  “Are you still under attack or has it eased?” Tom stroked her cheek. “Vision improving, I gather.”

  “Some. My eyesight is clearin
g. I can breathe again. I still have a hell of a headache, though.” She checked the rearview mirror. “Rogers, are the targets gaining?”

  “Not on this baby.” Rogers’ admiration for Gul’s expensive car was clear in his voice. “Wish I could drive it, ma’am.”

  “So do I.”

  “Watch for the cargo hauler.” Tom pushed at the phantom brake on his side of the car. “We’ll overtake it faster than you think at this speed. When we do rejoin them, I’m going to transfer Rahuna and the boy into this vehicle then I want you to head straight for the capital.”

  “I’m not going to leave you.” She whipped her head to stare at him in shock. He might as well have doused her with cold water. “I won’t.”

  “Eyes on the road. You have to go on ahead. Those targets are going to catch up with us once we’re traveling with the clunker cargo hauler. As soon as the Betang gets within mind-scan distance again, it will kill you.”

  “How? How can it sense me from so far away, let alone kill me? It touched me at Iraku’s compound, before it tried to kill me. Did it get my DNA then?” Andi strove to make sense of the danger.

  “I didn’t want to scare you unnecessarily before, but yes, the Betang was sampling your DNA when it touched you. Remember I said earlier, once it’s tasted a human’s genetic makeup, it has the power to kill that person when it gets close enough,” Tom said. “Even if we manage to fight the rebels off with our heavy weapons, you’ll die. I won’t take the chance.” His gaze was steady, unblinking. “Don’t argue. You hightail it to the capital. Between you and Rahuna, you can persuade Command to send us a rescue team.”

  “I don’t want to cut and run.” Stubborn as she felt at the moment, she could see his logic. A little.

  “But you know I’m right, don’t you?” He sounded relieved, probably because she’d implicitly accepted his argument.

  She drove at frantic speed for another minute before sighting the cargo hauler ahead.

  Stopped on the side of the road.

  “What the hell?” Tom put a clenched fist on the dashboard and stared ahead with narrowed eyes.

  “Maybe their engine’s slagging, sir.” Rogers’ voice held resignation.

  Fuming, impatient, hand on the door, Tom was poised to move, as soon as Andi brought them to a halt beside the cargo hauler.

  “Keep the engine running. I’ll get Rahuna and Sadu over here in a minute.” Tom bolted from the car, striding across the transportway to meet Mitch as he walked around the front of the stopped cargo hauler. The two men talked, easily visible now in the gray predawn light. Tom’s shoulders slumped the longer the sergeant went on.

  Not a good sign.

  Rogers leaned over the seat. “Doesn’t look promising, ma’am. That cargo-hauler engine’s still running. Wonder what’s going on?”

  A wave of cold dread washed through Andi. “Corporal, can you please take another reading on your tracker?”

  “Targets still approaching, ma’am.” Rogers looked up from the tracker and pulled his shirt collar away from his neck.

  “Try taking a reading ahead of us, toward the capital.” Oh, I hope I’m wrong…

  Flipping his device, the soldier scanned in the direction she’d requested. He whistled, eyes opening wide. He showed her the readout while talking so fast he was spitting. “Big target, stationary, multiple vehicles. Roadblock. You called it, ma’am.”

  “How far?”

  “About five miles ahead.” Chewing his lips, he stared at the readout.

  Tom came back to the car, sliding into his seat. Andi could see from his lined face and hooded eyes how reluctant he was to tell them what he’d learned.

  She touched his arm. “It’s okay. Rogers did a forward scan. We’re cut off.”

  “Yes.” He sat for a minute then flipped the comlink switch, as if to try one last appeal for help. “Fuck.” Stress and worry etched his face as he turned to her. “We’ll figure out something, I promise.”

  “We’ve made it this far. I have confidence in you.” Leaning over, she gave him a quick kiss.

  “What now, sir?” Uneasily, Rogers shifted in the cramped rear compartment.

  “Rahuna says there’s a rock formation of some kind about two miles ahead. Guess he travels this road a lot in his ministry, huh?” Tom tried a lopsided smile.

  Nodding, Andi shifted the car out of idle. The motor roared. “I think I know the place he means. Shall I follow the truck?”

  “Right, stick close. I told Mitch it doesn’t matter if we burn out the truck engine now, once we make this rock formation. At least the heavy weapons we got from Iraku provide us some edge.” Tom raised his eyebrows and rubbed his forehead, then his neck. He sat on the edge of the seat, fingers drumming on his thighs.

  “The Betang brought the rebels several haulers’ worth of weapons, not just the ones we took from Iraku,” Andi said.

  “Unusual for the Betang to show such desperation, as far as tracking us. Their campaign on Zulaire must still be in the early stages, fragile enough for the Sectors to be able to stop it.” A tired smile was all Tom could muster. “No pressure on us, right?”

  Nodding, she matched his grin.

  Mitch drove the cargo hauler off the edge of the transportway ahead of them, steering over the uneven ground toward an isolated upthrust of rock. The massive formation was the remnant of some violent geological episode in Zulaire’s long-gone past, rising out of nowhere in the middle of the flat plains. Andi had seen the natural wonder on the way out from the capital—the Knives of the Under Spirits, so-called because of the formation’s jagged shapes and resemblance to a bundle of ceremonial knife blades. The Knives towered at an angle about two hundred feet into the Zulairian sky.

  “Not a bad spot, sir,” Rogers said as their vehicle began the bumpy trip off the transportway and across the hard-packed, dusty plain toward the rocks.

  “Don’t let the car get stalled in the dirt,” Tom said, voice tense. “Pull in front of the cargo hauler and angle it just a bit when you park, so we have a vee formation to take cover behind.”

  Andi did as she was requested then shut the motor off. The sudden silence surprised her, but a moment later she heard the sounds of approaching vehicles coming from the north. The rumbling was faint as yet but unmistakable, giving her nervous chills up and down her spine.

  “Come on, time to get you to a safer spot.” Tom tugged her out of her seat, hurrying her around the back, squeezing between Gul’s car and the nose of the cargo hauler. Mitch, Latvik and Abukawal were busy placing heavy-caliber weapons at intervals along the barricaded vehicles.

  “Wish we had the APC.” The sergeant loaded a full pack of ammo into the gun he was preparing and moved onto the next one.

  “Don’t we all,” Tom said. “Take charge here for a few minutes, would you? I’ve got to talk to Andi.”

  “No problem, sir. I think a few minutes are all we’ve got, though.” Slamming the cover down on the massive gun, Mitch set the safety to off.

  “Hold on a minute.” Andi pulled her hand from Tom’s. “I can shoot. I can fight. I want to be here on the line with you, not hiding in a rock crevice like Sadu and Lysanda.”

  She expected him to argue, had her own counterarguments ready.

  He stood staring at her for a long minute, hands on his hips, saying nothing, face drawn. Then he nodded. “Okay. We can use all the firepower we can get. But you tell me the instant you feel anything from the Betang, understand?”

  “Of course.”

  “Help me get the Tonkilns and Rahuna settled.” He held out his hand to her.

  Lacing her fingers through his, she went at a quick pace to the rock wall where Rahuna stood beside a sobbing Lysanda, arm around her shoulders. Sadu watched his sister’s face, thumb in mouth, deciding whether this was something he should cry over, too. As Andi approached them, the toddler’s little face crumpled, and he began to howl. She reached for him, to offer what comfort she could. Lysanda forestalled her, gathering her baby br
other into her arms and crooning a song while she rocked back and forth.

  Rahuna met Tom, holding out a hand. “I should like a weapon, Captain.”

  Unclasping his blaster from the holster, the captain handed it over. Andi gaped at him, then eyed the cleric with raised brows, horrified that things had come to this necessity. Rahuna with a weapon? Rahuna prepared to kill people? His Serene Holiness took the weapon gingerly, studying the sleek, black Mark 27 blaster with a judicious eye. Tom reached over and shifted the weapon in his hands, adjusted Rahuna’s grip.

  “You click off the safety here.” Tom pointed with one hand. “Aim, depress this.” He demonstrated. “And it shoots. Plenty of charges left. Any questions, sir?”

  “No. I’ll manage. Sanenre does not forbid killing in a good cause. I must be responsible for the Tonkiln children.” The cleric experimented with aiming. “I won’t allow Lysanda and Sadu to fall into the hands of these killers, trust me.”

  Tom assessed Rahuna with a long, measuring gaze then nodded. “All right, on my command, or if the rest of us are neutralized, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” His Serene Holiness said. “And, Captain, Sanenre’s blessing on us all in the next hour.”

  “We’ll need it.” Tom saluted before he and Andi jogged back toward the defensive line of vehicles.

  Opposite their group, back on the transportway, a motley convoy of ten assorted vehicles had come to a halt.

  “Pretty overpowering odds.” Andi stared across the dusty plain, her eyes narrowed. Looks like the entire contingent from the village, all armed to the teeth. Drawing her blaster, she clicked the safety off. “Where do you want me?”

  “Between Mitch and me.” Tom drew her to the indicated spot.

  Andi swallowed hard. “Orders?”

  “Just shoot the bastards.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Stay hunkered down as much as you can.” He strode away, calling to Mitch for another blaster.

  Crouching behind the rear flank of the car, Andi found a position where she could get a clear line of sight without being too exposed. Tom brushed her back as he moved to take his place.