Reclaim: Books 1-3

by J. A. Scorch

  The Stiltz spotted them in an instant and began to fire. Their bolts kicked up dust and flicked chunks of concrete along the remains of the road behind them, only missing by a few feet as they made the trip to the next half-destroyed building

  Teve edged back around a corner and fired off a blind volley at the distant Zeal, doing little to no damage. The rifle kicked hard against his shoulder, typically taking two arms to operate. Mish pulled him back in as the Zeal returned fire, saving him again.

  "We can't take them on. We have to keep moving until we can find Harris and Moreno."

  Distinct UEF gunfire cracked in the distance, back in the direction they came.

  "Follow the shooting," he said. The rifle fire could have been from another group of soldiers. Either way, it was their best chance.

  Mish scanned the area ahead while holding on to Teve. "Over there. If we can make it across the small clearing, we can double back while those patrols are still trying to find us."

  Teve nodded. "Let's go." He moved in tight to her grip and held his rifle steady.

  "Here goes nothing," she said as they stepped out into the open and rushed across the ground in a half jog.

  The overwhelming nature of a clearing in the city did not pass by unnoticed. At any moment, the Zeal could blast them down from a distance, sniping from their high base with ease. Teve had seen it too many times to mention.

  "Almost home free," Mish muttered as they reached the edge of another brick building. She lowered Teve to the ground and raised her rifle up to scan for hostiles. The Zeal didn't spot them.

  "Made it," he said, sliding up the wall with his X762A1's barrel pressing into the dirt.

  Mish nodded. "Let's find the guys before it's too late." She dropped down under his shoulder and pulled him along. They each held their rifles in one arm and attempted to cover one another while moving forward at a sluggish pace.

  For the next few minutes, they crept from wall to wall, heading toward the gunfire, bypassing one patrol after the other until they found Harris and Moreno dropping a Stilt from a distance.

  Mish let out a huff of air. "We made it. Not gonna die today."

  Her celebrations were cut short when a wave of drones came barreling across from the right of Moreno's location.

  "Moreno," Teve called. "Get down."

  Moreno dropped to his belly on command and raised his weapon up to see the round drones flying in toward him. He opened fire along with Harris and hit the first few buzzing droids with ease, blasting them out of the sky.

  "Mish. Go." Teve released her from his care. She bolted off, rifle ready, and joined in the fight.

  He threw his weapon over his back and pulled out his sidearm before hobbling along, his hurt arm remaining numb and useless. He shuffled toward the drones and fired off a few rounds when he got close enough to make a difference. Shooting with his left hand was harder than he remembered despite training for this very occasion. His bullets mostly missed but added confusion to the enemy's attack.

  The drones kept getting closer with their extended cattle prods charged up to blast out a short-range charge. If one streak of electricity contacted any of Teve's people, they would be rendered unconscious and taken out of the fight.

  "Fall back," Teve yelled when he realized too many enemies were coming. More Zeal soldiers would also be flooding their location in a moment. "Head to the building with the hole in the wall. Follow me." He had no choice but to yell out his commands with his comm fried. The advantages of being able to whisper your orders became abundantly clear to him for the first time.

  The fire team fell back as one, firing on the drones as they continued to come for their human targets. The Zeal seemed more desperate than usual to snag a soldier for capture. The thought made Teve shudder as he fired off another burst to fend them back.

  When the fire team reached a small section of cover, he reloaded his weapon with great difficulty, using the back of his knee while kneeling to grip the pistol and angle the magazine in. He managed to pull back the slide by clutching it against his boot. By the time he leaned out to fire, Mish had taken down two more of the persistent bots.

  "Fall back," he ordered his fire team. They were still defending themselves from the drones, mopping up the last few in the wave before turning around to run.

  Mish helped Teve up and supported his movement toward the restaurant. They stepped over several twitching Zeal bodies. Gunfire rang out in all directions. Other fire teams had their hands full dealing with more Stiltz.

  "Jump through the hole and clear the building. You'll find a door on the right. Head through and go downstairs."

  A few minutes later, they were all down in the basement. Harris and Moreno had their flashlights on. Teve affixed Moreno's tac light to his pistol with the help of Mish so he could illuminate the way while she carried the dead weight of his shoulder.

  "Okay. Hold up here for a minute. I need to see the damage. Moreno. Cover our rear. Harris. You're on point."

  "Just leaves me on med duty," Mish said.

  "I'll be the wounded soldier, I guess."

  Mish half smiled as she dropped down her small pack and opened a few zips to find a basic medkit. They were all trained to treat the wounded until proper medical attention could be sought.

  "Let's take your armor off," she said as she unclipped the front and back plates of his extended shoulder piece.

  Teve couldn't help but notice the hole in the thick armor where his right arm had been hit. Mish slowly pulled the shattered section off and let it drop to the ground. The strange thing about a bolt hit was the way it managed to both open a soldier up and cauterize their wound in the one action.

  "Got you pretty good," she said. "Can't tell if it hit bone or if it went straight through. Let's take a good look." She pulled out a knife and cut the sleeve of his fatigues off and propped him forward. "Through and through. I can't see any compound fractures, so I think this is muscular. Nothing permanent."

  "Just hit me with some painkillers and a Stim. We'll worry about any nerve damage later. Right now, I need to be functional."

  Mish didn't argue. She found the Stim kit and shoved a needle into his broken arm. The composite mixture would attempt to get some life back into his shoulder temporarily at the cost of searing pain. Mish hit him a second time with a small dose of morphine.

  A few minutes later, his right hand tingled with feeling. He squeezed his fingers in and out and pointed his flashlight toward the tunnel Harris watched over like a hawk.

  "We'll head to the sewers. X will be down there somewhere. Sneaky bastard knows the place like the back of his hand."

  "Are you sure about that, Sarge?" Harris asked. "You're wounded, we're low on ammo, and half of our equipment is fried. Maybe we should just turn back while we still can."

  Teve shook his head and glanced from face to face, seeing they all agreed with Harris. "Come on, guys. You all saw X and what they did to him. We need to find this guy before it's too late. This is bigger than any of us. He might be crucial to our very survival."

  "You don't know that for certain," Harris said. "He could just be a one-off experiment gone wrong for the Zeal. We have no proof there are more of these hybrids being created."

  "X is our proof. We find him; he can show us everything. Why else would the Zeal capture so many of us alive?"

  With a gentle hand, Mish grabbed Teve by the chin and turned his head toward hers. "It's a lot to risk for a hunch, don't you think? Why gamble dying for something we have no way to verify?"

  In that moment, he wanted to yank his head away from her hand in protest, but the softness of her skin made him give in to her words. "Maybe ... But we've come so far. Why quit now? X is close by. I can feel it." A long moment of silence passed by as he stared into her eyes. If Harris and Moreno weren't there, he would have pulled her in tight and kissed her.

  "Um, guys," Moreno said. "I hate to interrupt, but we have Zeal soldiers entering the building above."

  T
eve and Mish both craned their necks toward the sound. He faced Harris and said, "There's no choice now. Lead us down to the sewer."

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Porter sat down on the deck and glanced up to the steaming X90S. Several chunks of damage had been inflicted upon the weaponless ship. He was lucky to have made it out of the Cyclone's kill zone. He figured the stealth modules managed to confuse the enemy's PDTs long enough to allow him time to escape.

  The surviving pilots all crowded around the black vessel they had never seen before and started to ask a ton of questions. He knew he couldn't answer them, so he said the only thing that came to mind. "Go talk to Commodore Garcia. She'll fill you in." He couldn't help but smile, picturing her face when the pilots all interrogated her as to why they sacrificed a bunch of men and women for an experimental mission.

  "Smith. Are you okay?" Rodriguez muttered in the distance as he hovered over the canopy of one of the half-broken Stalkers.

  "Smith?" Porter whispered to himself, realizing two of his cadets had been on the mission despite training all day with their angry commander. He stood and stepped toward the two pilots as Rodriguez continued to try and rouse Smith from the fighter. The man shook him by the shoulders and started to yell.

  "We need a medic. Smith isn't responding." Rodriguez grabbed him under the armpits and lifted the cadet out of the X90 to a set of mobile steps. A deep slash in Smith's helmet stuck out. Porter climbed the stairs and found another hole punched clean through the canopy of the Stalker, settling in behind where the pilot's head had been.

  Rodriguez clutched at his own head. "The bastards got him. Right in the goddamn head."

  Porter studied the damage to the ship and realized the hit was from another MAF fighter. The telltale signs of a stray bullet could be seen through the canopy. He didn't reveal his findings.

  "Where's the damn medic?"

  "Take Smith's helmet off," Porter said.

  "Lieutenant?" Rodriguez asked, realizing his commander was present. "Why are you in a flight suit?"

  "There's no time for that. We need to determine how bad he is. Place him down flat on his back. We'll take his helmet off slowly."

  Porter assisted the frazzled pilot, helping to remove Smith's headgear without causing further damage. A large gash across the forehead revealed itself on the cadet.

  "Looks like a graze. He should be okay provided it hasn't cut in too deep. Get him on a stretcher and down to medical." Porter slapped Rodriguez on the shoulder. "Good thing you were here."

  Rodriguez nodded his head over and over, possibly not taking in every word.

  Porter stood to move out of the way of an approaching stretcher. He stormed down the steps and away from the scene.

  "Lieutenant. Wait."

  Porter stopped mid-step and listened. "Yeah?"

  "What were you doing in that black ship? And why did they just send out a handful of us to die?"

  Porter's shoulders dropped as he shook his head slightly. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out." He walked off without another word as Rodriguez called after him, shouting louder and louder with every step.

  The man's yelling eventually faded as the hum of the ship drowned out the cadet. Porter stormed straight to where Garcia would be hiding: the control room attached to the deck. He climbed the steps and pushed past two familiar corporals into the overcrowded room.

  The commodore caught sight of Porter's approach. "What are you doing, Lieutenant?"

  "Delivering your data, ma’am." He slammed the cube down on a nearby console and stepped toward Garcia. The two corporals grabbed him by the shoulders. Without thinking, Porter shrugged off their grip and seized one of the men by the wrist before twisting his arm around into a lock. The room erupted with confusion as Porter held the corporal in both arms, using him as a shield from the several rifles trained on his head.

  "I also have a few questions for you, Commodore."

  Garcia strolled up to the lieutenant and waved a hand for her soldiers to lower their weapons. "Let him go, Porter. I'll let you ask your damn questions."

  Despite a complete lack of trust, he let the corporal go, releasing the guard from his grip before giving in to the temptation to break the NCO's arm. Garcia's man fell to the floor and groaned in pain, grabbing at his shoulder as he slunk away.

  "Out with it," Garcia said.

  With every set of eyes in the control room focused on the commotion, Porter brushed off the corporal's stink from his flight suit and stepped one foot closer to Garcia. "Why the hell didn't you recall those fighters straight away? We just lost all those pilots for no good reason."

  "We had our reasons."

  "Bullshit. You let them die."

  "We had no choice. We needed to know."

  "Know what? How their fucking hanger bays open? What kind of op is that?"

  "That wasn't the mission. That's not why we sent you out there."

  Porter tried to speak as his eyes squinted to her words. "What are you saying?"

  Garcia stepped back and sat down at the console with the data cube. She looked up into his eyes, letting him see the truth. "We were testing the ship to see if a nuclear bomb could be delivered directly inside the Cyclone."

  "A nuke? Why didn't you brief me about your latest scheme?"

  With a heavy breath, Garcia closed her eyes for a moment. "Because it would require those hanger bays to remain open long enough for the X90S to fly into the ship and detonate its payload."

  "You were testing? Calibrating the time needed with pilot blood?" Porter's fists clenched tight, turning a pale white in the process.

  "Think about it for just a second," Garcia said. "The MAF fleet will arrive any day now with thousands of pilots to hit an enemy we have only a slight chance to defeat. If we do this right, we can avoid that bloodbath and kick the Zeal out of Earth's orbit with only a minimal loss of life."

  With bared teeth, Porter didn't allow himself to ease up. A corporal grabbed him from behind and placed a cuff on one of his wrists. He ignored the restraint and stepped closer to Garcia. "It doesn't matter how you justify this. You let those pilots die for some experimental hunk of junk that failed its first flight. What happens when that ship of yours fails again?" A tugging on his other arm completed the cuffs' bond.

  "This is war, Porter. Sometimes to save lives, you have to make sacrifices. Now you either go back to your cell and continue being a romantic hero to the people, or you can get on board this operation and save humanity from extinction."

  He stared into Garcia's eyes, sizing up her sales pitch. For the first time in the last few days, he saw the truth come out of her mouth. She meant every word.

  "So, what's it going to be?" she asked again.

  Porter leaned down toward her as the cuffs pulled on his wrists. "If I'm on board, what does that mean?"

  Garcia narrowed her brows. "It means you pilot the X90S and fly a nuke straight into the middle of a Cyclone while the fleet keeps them busy."

  Porter eased back a step and let his arms drop down. For the first time in his life, he didn't have an answer sitting in the back of his mind. With a sunken face, he glanced back at the Commodore and said, "Fine. You win. You've got your pilot."

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  "Are you going to be able to climb down there, Sarge?" Harris asked Teve, pointing his flashlight down the to the sewer.

  "I'll manage. Just get a move on. The Zeal will figure out we're down here in no time."

  The specialist gave him a firm nod and hopped down to the ladder. His flashlight bounced its bright yellow light from side to side, casting odd shadows all over the dank tunnel above.

  Teve could picture the Stiltz barreling down to their location to fill his body with more bolts and end his pathetic attempt to find X. It was the only outcome he'd hope for if they did manage to cut off the fire team. Being captured alive and hauled to the Zeal base to be turned into some sort of half-human, half-Zeal monster was something he would avoid with a bullet to
the head from his own firearm.

  Once Harris had moved far enough down the ladder, Teve edged closer to the round hole and rotated his injured shoulder as more and more feeling returned to his arm. The chemicals Mish administered were fighting a battle. One drug was trying to wake up his entire limb despite it not being ready for use, while the other was preventing his nerves from communicating pain to his brain. The combination could be damaging in the long term. But for now, the mix managed to keep a wounded soldier like Teve operational.

  Mish and Moreno had made it to the bottom, sent ahead in case the Zeal came down in a hurry. He figured the Stiltz might want only him alive and not open fire the second they encountered the fire team.

  The tac light on Teve's pistol provided him enough information to see each ladder rung as they appeared. He moved slowly, taking one step at a time until his feet found a small level of water at the bottom. His right arm burned from the shoulder down, searing one minute, seeming fine the next.

  Mish nudged him in the back. "How's the pain?"

  "Okay for now. All over the place in general. When can I take another shot of morphine?"

  She scoffed. "Not for a few hours. This stuff is powerful. It's not a drug to be messed with. Not like those pills you take."

  "I'm clean now. I haven't had any since you told me to stop."

  "Congratulations," she said without facing him. "Let me know when you last for more than a few days."

  Teve shook his head and thought about the diazepam. Now, more than anything else in the world, he wanted to curl up with a bottle of whiskey and few rows of the magic pills and hit the pillow in his rack as hard as possible. Being awake with little sleep in the dangerous environment was more than enough to bear.

  Harris swept his rifle in both directions. "Which way is home?"

  Teve pointed over Mish's shoulders. "That way. Zeal base is in the opposite."

  "I'm sorry. Did you just say the Zeal base? Pretty obvious choice which way we should go." Harris walked toward home, splashing through ankle-deep sewer water.