“Just do your part,” Hayden said.
Three sentries entered the corridor, but Hayden and Quinn obliterated them in an instant. Cody’s hands trembled as he rifled through the innards of the keypad’s programming. He just needed to find the unlock function at the root level, and they’d be in. Another blast behind him, and this time, four sentries went down.
“They’re gonna send everyone soon,” Quinn said. “Now that we’re in one position. Get on it, Cody.”
“One more–” but before he could finish, the hatch began to open. He’d done it. They were in.
9
THE PLOT
Over the next several days, Quinn worked with Ava and Ms. Bishop to plot an expedition back out to the ice. While Quinn was worried that the constantly dropping temperatures would impact the ability of their armor to withstand the conditions, she knew she had to give Renner enough time to recover. By some small miracle he continued to improve, and Ava revealed that eventually they hoped to give him a prosthetic arm. In point of fact, there was a female physician in the outpost, a former military surgeon from the nearby Macdill Air Force base, who’d specialized in prosthetics for veterans wounded in combat.
Because of the temperatures outside, gas-powered machines couldn’t be operated, so Quinn spent time with Ava retrofitting an “Ice Runner,” a sled made from a three-person kayak and outriggers, that the outpost sometimes used for transport. The sled was fitted with a sail and Ava said if it was positioned in the proper direction, it could allow the user to move across the ice-slicked ground outside at incredible rates of speed.
The days turned to weeks and Quinn wondered whether they would ever find a way back to the time ship. She had difficulty processing the possibilities of what it meant for her and Renner to have been gone for so long. Would the ship be in the same place as when they left? Would time have somehow stopped at the moment that they fell down into the abyss that spat them out onto the frozen ocean? Her mind reeled at the thought that they’d be marooned in the frozen city for the rest of their lives.
At the same time, however, Renner continued to improve and move around on his own and was quickly back to his old self: cracking jokes, annoying Ms. Bishop, tossing looks at every woman in the outpost. Eventually, he underwent surgery with Quinn looking on, watching the military surgeon mount a black metal prosthetic arm directly to Renner’s residual limb in a procedure that she was told was called osseointegration.
Quinn watched the surgeon delicately insert the new limb into the old one via a titanium extension the doctor had brought over from the air base. If all went as planned, the prosthesis would eventually become one with the bone. Several days after the initial procedure, a black metal robotic hand was fitted to the end of the prosthesis, a device threaded onto a bolt and steel coupler that the surgeon said could accommodate a number of items, including tools, utensils, and even weaponry.
Quinn worked with Renner until he began to get the hang of the prosthetic arm. At first, he was distressed at the loss of his limb, but his spirits soared after learning that he was able to crush metal objects and punch through brick walls with his new hand. Once Renner was familiar with his prosthesis, attention was turned to plotting the actual course back across the ice, Quinn working with Ava to discern the shortest, safest route.
“No matter which way we go, they’ll probably see us,” Ava said. “The scavengers, the rogues … they’re always watching.”
“So let them see us,” Quinn answered. “We’re not afraid.”
“Especially now that I have this,” Renner added, smiling, holding up his metal limb, the end of which had been fitted with what looked like the metal levers at the end of a set of pliers. The levers were exposed, slipped through a reinforced gap in the arm on Renner’s armor and parka. Renner snapped the pliers open and shut, grinning. “I’m a goddamn cyborg.”
The day finally came when the trio were ready to venture outside the building’s walls. Quinn and Renner would be shielded by their helmets, armor, and added outerwear, but Ava was forced to hide under layers of clothing, a heavy parka, goggles, and a fitted carbon-fiber face shield that she hoped would withstand the elements. The trio said their goodbyes to the women in the building, with Quinn promising to Ms. Bishop that they would carry out the mission. That is, they would go out onto the ice and hopefully find the portal (they couldn’t come up with a better term) that jettisoned them out onto the ice after they exited the time ship. There were no guarantees that they’d find the portal or make it back onto the ship even if they did, but it was a chance they were willing to take.
Slipping out a rear door in the middle of the day, the trio emerged into a profound darkness that veiled the land. The wind gusted at nearly fifty miles an hour, which forced them into crouches as they hauled the Ice Runner sled outside. In terms of specifics, the idea was that they would venture back to the edge of the ocean, some five miles away, and then move beyond that, an additional four miles, to the area where the sensors had first detected Quinn and Renner. That’s where they hoped to find the portal.
Ava and Renner dropped down into the sled as Quinn fought against the wind to hoist the sail. Then she grabbed a rifle padded in insulation and jumped into the sled’s third seat as the wind propelled them forward.
Using a crude set of plastic rudders, Ava piloted the sled as it whipped down the city’s ice-covered streets. Quinn couldn’t believe how fast they were traveling or how deft Ava’s navigation skills were. Obstacles appeared ahead and to the left and right, overturned cars, sections of street signs, collapsed antennae from a nearby building. She was certain they were going to crash into these objects on several occasions, only to have Ava avert certain disaster with the flick of a wrist or the jerk of a thumb or a forefinger.
The wind continued to bite, launching the sled forward like a rocket where it sluiced between the detritus of forgotten battles and over mounds of snow, headed toward the bridge they’d come in on weeks earlier. Quinn’s eyes were everywhere, cradling her gun, searching for any signs of life in the frozen wasteland. The bridge grew closer and Quinn smiled, lowering her rifle. They were going to do it. They were going to make it out onto the ocean and then—
Something exploded up ahead and a flare arced through the sky over the road.
Quinn hesitated, and then the road burst into flames.
10
ON FIRE
Ava flinched at the sight of the flames. She slammed the sled’s rudder, overcompensating, the contraption swiggering out of control. The Ice Runner went into a violent, unchecked swoon before turning over on its side. Quinn and Renner went flying, tossed like quarters in a washing machine.
Quinn tumbled into a snow bank and rolled several times before coming to a stop. She pushed herself up, belly-crawled forward, and grabbed her rifle. The flames from what Quinn surmised was a booby trap still licked the night sky, casting the area ahead in eerie shadows. She moved forward and a hand snapped out of the snow and grabbed her.
Quinn bit back a scream, relieved to see that it was only Renner, covered in white, holding a finger up to silence her. He pointed back down the road and she spotted the silhouettes of five dark forms darting across it like deer.
Something stirred ten feet up to her right. It was Ava. Lying under the overturned sled. Quinn and Renner ran over to her and pulled her back and righted the sled. They huddled, trying to talk over the shrieking wind, but found it impossible to communicate.
Quinn plunged a finger into the ice and drew a crude diagram. Whoever had strung the booby trap was closing in, readying to finish them off so Quinn gestured at the diagram. She would crawl back into the sled and ride it forward, drawing the attention and fire of the shadowy figures that had ambushed them. Ava and Renner would then stealth through the snow on either side of the road, working to pick off the attackers as they exposed themselves by firing at Quinn. It was a dangerous plan, but there was no other good option. Heads were nodded and Quinn grabbed the edge of the sled.
&nbs
p; CRACK!
A bullet ricocheted off the sled.
Quinn held her rifle and heaved herself into the sled, using her arms and legs to reposition the sail. Buffeted by several impressive gusts, the sled began moving across the ice. Quinn reached over and gripped the rudder, holding it in her left hand while cradling the rifle in her right as several more shots echoed.
The sled rapidly picked up speed.
Moving faster with every second.
The wind shrieked like a banshee, powering the plastic vessel over the snow and ice. Quinn peeked her head up and spotted two attackers, lying in ambush near the side of a frozen truck, maybe twenty yards up ahead.
She let go of the rudder and readied her rifle.
The attackers heaved themselves up.
They fired.
She fired back.
Several of their rounds peppered the sled, missing her. Her shots flew wide.
They aimed again and she squeezed off another burst from her rifle, gutshooting one of the attackers, hitting the other in his quadriceps. Both men fell into the snow, writhing like snakes on hot pavement. The sled continued to sluice forward and Quinn watched the attacker she’d shot in the leg move to grab his weapon. He froze before he could reach it. The other attacker managed to stand and aim his weapon only to have Quinn fire again. Her bullet caught the man in the chest, his frozen body exploding in a hail of ice shrapnel.
Quinn regained control of the rudder and drove the sled down over the street, the scenery whipping past, the bridge looming large in the distance. She was on her knees now, looking for targets. The wind suddenly died and the other attackers, more of them than she’d first imagined, swarmed from both sides of the street.
Automatic weapons fire rang out.
Bullets punctured the sled, ripping through the sail.
One of the attackers flung a bomb that exploded out in front of the sled, catching the prow on fire.
She kicked at the flames while firing at anything that moved.
Two attackers ran at her and she fired at them, striking both in the neck. An incoming shot grazed her head, although thankfully not piercing her helmet, and she fell back while shooting another attacker in the stomach.
On her back, Quinn looked up as a form launched itself against the sled. She could tell by the attacker’s bulk that it was a man. The attacker held an enormous knife in one hand, but before he could use it, the sled overturned.
Quinn dropped onto the city ground and went spinning off to the side, fighting to maintain the grip she had on her rifle. More shots rang out and she rolled over to see the attacker rising up from the other side of the road. He dropped his knife and raised a pistol. She fumbled with her gun as the attacker steadied his pistol when—
A bullet slammed into the attacker’s head, killing him instantly.
Quinn’s eyes swung out to the left and she saw Renner and Ava emerging from the shadows. Renner had just fired the shot that took her attacker down. She raised her arm up and both joined her, the trio turning, blitzing down the street toward the bridge.
Peripherally, Quinn saw movement and turned as one of the few remaining attackers readied to throw what looked like a Molotov cocktail. With feline agility, she wheeled and fired off a shot that hit the cocktail just as the attacker threw it.
BOOM!
The cocktail exploded, the backblast setting the attacker on fire. The figure ran raggedly forward, like an ambulatory torch, before crumpling in the snow.
Crabbing back, Quinn witnessed another attacker, tall and thin, shoot out of the shadows at Renner. The figure knocked Renner to the ground and swung a pistol around to shoot him in the face when—
WHACK!
Renner’s metal limb, the one fitted with the steel, plier-like levers, snapped tight around the pistol, wrenching it away from his adversary. Then Renner kicked his opponent in the groin and shrugged him aside, beating him repeatedly across the temple with his metal limb. Pushing himself up, Renner sprinted across the street, joining up with Quinn and Ava who were soon on the bridge, crouching, looking back. There were bodies lying in the road, all of the attackers now either dead or dying.
“Not a bad day’s work,” Renner said.
Leaving the sled behind, they lowered themselves down from the bridge. The three hit the ice and struck out across it, surprised to find that the wind had yet to pick up.
11
BREAKING OUT
The inside of the Mech Bay took Cody’s breath away. The space, as large as several airplane hangars, was filled with row-upon-row of shimmering weapons of war. Mechanized fighting machines, mechs, most of which were nearly twenty feet tall. Cody walked between them, admiring the tree-trunk-like pistons that connected to turrets that had been painted blood red.
Rocket pods and chain guns hung from either side of the turrets, the bubbletops crowning the top of the metal beasts studded with antennae and defensive countermeasures. They were like Biblical Goliaths come to life. Only it would take one heck of a David to bring them down.
“Take a picture,” Hayden said. “It’ll last longer.”
Cody shook himself out of it. “Wait up,” he said, as they started to rush to get inside the mechs. “You’re going to need this.” He took his handheld and folded it several times over until it broke into seven pieces. He picked one of them up. “Everybody needs one of these. Insert it into your mech’s processor console, like you would a video game cartridge. This is an EPROM. It’s like a video game. But different, of course. It’ll run a program on the mech that will allow you to process it without implants.”
The Marines began picking up the perfectly squared shards that had broken off the handheld. Seven EPROMs for fourteen Marines inside seven mechs. Well, technically, twelve Marines, one teenager, and Cody. All the same, exactly enough. Cody had thought of everything.
“Don’t break them. Don’t drop them. Don’t lose them,” Cody said. “Without them, you’ll just be inside a really expensive floating trash can.”
“Got it, Doc,” Hayden said.
“Not a Doc,” Cody said. “I’m a scientist.”
“So you have a PhD, right?” Hayden said.
“Sure,” Cody said.
“Then you’re a Doc. Get used to it.”
Cody rolled his eyes and paid close attention as Quinn made sure to pick up an EPROM. “I’m taking my daughter in mine,” she said.
“Smart,” Cody said. “I guess I’ll be pairing up with …” He looked around for whichever Marine hadn’t paired off. It was a short, stout, small one. Not all that tough looking. But the anxiety went away, when he realized that might be an advantage to combine his internal toughness with the mech’s exterior impenetrability. “That would be my new partner.”
“He’s the toughest one here,” Quinn said. “Hawkins. He wasn’t left without a musical chair. I already asked him to pair up with Samantha if anything happened to me. Meaning, you get the best Marine here.”
Cody sighed a breath of relief. “Cool,” he said, which was way less awkward in his head than it probably was to Quinn. “Safe travels.”
“Uh huh,” Quinn said. “You too, buddy.”
Buddy? He definitely wasn’t getting anywhere with her this time around. But that was okay. There was a chance he was going to save her, and that’s all that really mattered.
“Thanks, buddy,” he said, accepting his fate.
Quinn smiled in a flirtatious way, and that just made things more confusing. But the mission was still the mission. He just needed to get it done.
They climbed up into their mechs and took up their positions inside the bubbletop cockpits, each facing the opposite direction.
Once Cody was settled in, he tilted his neck a bit and nodded at Hawkins.
Cody began powering up the mech.
“You mind me asking how you know how to operate this thing?” Hawkins asked.
“I’ve been in similar ones before.”
“When?”
“The fu
ture,” Cody said.
Hawkins stared wide-eyed at Cody. “The … future?”
Cody nodded. “Didn’t you hear? I’ve pretty much come back through time to save the universe.”
“Uh-huh,” Hawkins said, strapping himself in, peering at Cody like a crazy person.
Cody looked up to see Hayden and the others.
Cody cued the mech’s internal communications system. “We’ve got less than five minutes before the glider blows.”
“Okay,” Hayden replied. “Let’s bring the noise.”
Hayden turned and led the charge, and the other Marines followed in their mechs. The group marched through the blasted opening and out into the corridor. They rampaged back toward the Hangar Bay, shooting down anything that moved. Cody watched Syndicate soldiers scurrying in every direction as Hayden and the others gunned them down.
Cody watched the barrels on the other mechs’ cannons spinning so furiously that they began to glow. The alien soldiers fell in heaps before the mechs, which continued to plow forward. Soon the Syndicate soldiers began trying to surrender, tossing their helmets and weapons as Cody and the others entered the Hangar Bay.
Cody peered through the cockpit at Hayden who was in the next closest mech. They traded a look and anger flashed in Hayden’s face. Cody surmised that he was remembering all the devastation the aliens had caused on Earth. Cody watched Hayden’s mech swing into action, continuing to mow down all of the aliens who made a move to surrender.
The Marines took out the remaining Syndicate soldiers in rows, those that were fighting, and those who’d apparently lost the will to fight. The mechs fought their way forward and past the loading dock until they were near an opening that led outside. They stumbled out into the blackness of space.
“Thrusters,” Cody said to the others over the communications system. . “I remember … there should be thrusters on the back and bottoms of the mech.”
Cody fumbled with the controls, but was able to locate the thrusters which could be manipulated with a small joystick. He powered the mech forward, following Hayden who led the others away from the Syndicate ships.
Syndicate Wars: Empire Rising (Seppukarian Book 5) Page 6
