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Shadowfall: Shadows Book One

Page 13

by TW Iain


  “Trained for stealth and subtlety, and we’re going out like a couple of beacons,” Brice said, shaking his head.

  “At least you’re not dark anymore,” Tris said. “And anything I said about you not being bright‌—‌guess I’ll have to take it back now.”

  Brice wanted to come back with some other comment, but nothing came to mind, at least nothing that could top how stupid they looked.

  “We need something else,” Ryann said, and she pointed to the ceiling. Her face was serious, even though she’d been laughing earlier too. “Those things can jump.”

  “On it,” said Keelin, picking up another torch and the tape. “Brice, turn round.”

  He did so, and felt her taping the third torch to his back. A couple of times it rapped against the back of his head, but Keelin move it down and to his right, and when she thumbed the controls and stepped back, the ceiling above glowed even brighter than it had done before.

  “Hey, if I stand like this on the landing pad, I can guide the rescue Proteus in!”

  But that thought didn’t make him feel any better, and it did not receive the laughter he expected.

  “First things first, Brice,” said Ryann. “Contact Haven, then worry about rescue.”

  Keelin strapped a third torch to Tris’ back, and now the man did not look ridiculous so much as wrong. He was a dark centre surrounded by light, and he looked alone, just like Brice felt. Tris had said he wasn’t dark now, but Brice was. He was an empty void in a sea of brilliance.

  Ryann held up a couple of boxes; a booster and a relay. She handed them to Tris, who took them as if she were bestowing a great and terrible gift.

  “Set the system up on the roof first,” she said. “Let’s make sure this works.”

  Keelin held out a couple of torches. “One to aim at any of those things who get too inquisitive, the other to protect the system,” she said.

  “I’ll need tape, too.”

  She reached for the roll. Brice shuffled both torches into one hand then held out his other hand, palm up. Keelin looked at the roll of tape, then slotted it over Brice’s fingers and pushed it up his wrist.

  “Don’t let it fall,” she said with a smile. Her hand brushed his, and he wanted to grab it. But she was already too far away.

  “Ready?” Ryann stood by the rear door. Her face was blank, and she held herself rigid. He felt himself shake when he nodded. The light by his side wobbled as Tris nodded too.

  Ryann opened the door.

  The laughter already felt out of place to Ryann. The last few minutes seemed dream-like, with Tris and Brice joking and working together. It should have filled her with confidence, but instead it left a crack for the doubts to creep in. Not doubts over the decision to do this‌—‌with cold logic, she knew it made sense‌—‌but she feared the plan would fail. There were too many unknowns.

  When Brice reached the top of the ladder and opened the hatch, rain speckled her face. That, she had to admit, felt good. But she couldn’t look up, not without calling up some pretty limiting filters. The light Brice and Tris gave off was too strong.

  And that was their only protection. She struggled to believe she was letting them go through with this.

  “Storm’s worse,” Brice said.

  “Then we do this quickly,” Tris said. “Check it works.”

  Brice barked a laugh. “Not exactly a dry run, though.”

  Then Brice was through the hatch, and Tris followed. Ryann watched the yellow light swirl, and more rain came down.

 

  There was no response for a moment, and Ryann was tempted to call out again, or climb up. Her hand rested on one of the metal rungs.

 

  Ryann pushed the terror down, redirecting adrenaline.

 

 

 

 

 

  That seemed so long ago now. Was it really only a couple of hours?

  She heard clicks and thuds over the storm, and pushed into Tris’ lattice. His adrenaline pumped, and his heart was loud and strong, if a touch too fast.

  Ryann sensed the power running through the relay.

  she sussed. She tapped into the emergency channel, pushing her signal as identification. She wanted to scream for help, but calmed herself, and stuck to protocol.

  She pulled up stats, and the data showed the message being sent, broad, across the whole spectrum. She received a ping, but that was from the relay itself, a machine acknowledgement only.

  Of course there was no response from Haven. This relay didn’t have the power for that. But it would push her message as soon as that second relay was in place.

 

  The rain and the noise of the storm both cut off when Brice sealed the hatch. Light flooded the chamber, and water dripped from their clothes.

  Keelin was by Cathal’s side when they entered the main room. She looked up, but didn’t move. It was interesting how she kept one hand under the blanket, resting on his chest.

  But if it helped keep the girl calm, Ryann wouldn’t interfere.

  “Any problems?” she said to the lads.

  “Relay seems to be working fine.”

  “You strapped a torch to it?”

  “Of course,” said Brice, lifting his arm, the one that still had the reel of tape round his wrist. “This stuff works well.”

  “Just hope the light keeps those things away,” Tris said, then looked sheepish. Ryann understood‌—‌while they were all thinking the same thing, speaking it made the doubts real.

  “It will,” she said with all the confidence she could muster. “And it will work at the landing pad. You need to get the system ready, Tris?”

  He nodded. “Sure.” Then he turned to Brice. “I’ll put it in two packs. Share the load.”

  “I’ll carry it all if you want.”

  “No. We do this together.”

  They turned to the storage units, and Ryann stepped across to Keelin.

  she sussed privately.

  The pilot’s expression told Ryann more than her words.

 

  Keelin withdrew her hand, and shuffled to one side. Ryann wanted to give the girl a hug, but now was not the time. Instead, she called over to Tris and Brice.

  “Can we have a different light for a moment? Just need to check on Cathal.”

  “No problem.”

  She heard them moving about, and the light in the hold-out dimmed, taking on a blue hue. It felt cold, but Ryann told herself it was only for a moment.

  She pulled back Cathal’s blanket. He looked so peaceful, with his eyes shut and his face betraying no signs of inner turmoil.

  Yet his skin was changing. His forehead felt rough under her fingers, and icy too. The leathery exoskeleton‌—‌and that didn’t quite describe the blackness, but it came close‌—‌stretched high on his neck, reaching up round his jaw. She pulled back his gums, and his teeth were yellow, not the smooth white they had been before. She pulled his upper lip further back, and his canines rose to sharp points.

  She let his lips close, all too aware of Keelin at her shoulder.

 

  There was no reason to lie.

 

 

 

  Ryann spun round.

  Keelin didn’t move her eyes from Cathal’s face.


  There was no point lying.

 

 

 

  Ryann gave nothing, letting Keelin work through this.

 

  Ryann could feel him, in there somewhere. The taste of his trace still existed, beneath the frantic activity and the harsh barriers his lattice was constructing.

 

  Ryann looked across the room, to where Tris was now sealing two packs and handing one to Brice. Neither smiled. They didn’t make eye contact.

 

  She dropped the blanket back over Cathal, protecting him from the light that would flood the hold-out in a moment. Protecting him from the very thing that they might be called on to use against him.

  But not yet. There was still time. She had to believe that.

  “You ready?” she asked the boys.

  “Ready as we’ll ever be,” Tris said, shuffling a shoulder to show her the pack he wore. “Boosters linked and primed, relay coded. Just a short walk.”

  “You got the map?”

  He tapped the side of his head. “A quarter-k. Ten minutes.”

  “Eight,” Brice said. “Let’s go for eight.”

  “Eight,” Tris agreed. “We can do that.”

  “Okay. Torches on.” Ryann reached round to their backs while they thumbed the torches strapped to their chests. The hold-out filled with light, and Ryann called up filters to protect her eyes. “While you’re in range, keep us informed.”

  Tris nodded. “And when we’ve got this system in place, you’ll hear us again.”

  Once more, she stood at the bottom of the ladder as they climbed, and again the rain cascaded down when Brice opened the hatch.

  she sussed, and felt terrible for that, terrible that she was relying on luck when she should be confident in their skills and abilities. She should trust her crew.

  She climbed after them, and the light from the relay shone into her eyes. She squinted, pulling up tighter filters, and saw Brice lowering himself over the edge of the hold-out. She followed the path of their light as it slid through the trees, sending shadows running and hiding. And she could feel the creatures, could sense‌…‌something like pain, but it was like they viewed it with cold logic rather than the vibrant urgency she’d expect from a warth.

  But these things were not warths. They were something new.

  Tris sussed.

  But as it moved away from the hold-out, the trees blurred, and the shadows started to smother it.

 

 

 

  Interesting question. Ryann couldn’t decide if that could be taken at face value, or if Tris was trying to tell her to get inside.

 

  But she waited until she could see their light no more. Only then, after taking a deep breath and feeling a lump in her throat, did Ryann climb inside and close the hatch. The space was dark, the rungs glowing green through her filters, and the water dripping down the walls seemed alien and alive.

  Keelin was by Cathal again. She looked up when Ryann entered, and forced a smile.

  “They’re on their way.”

  “I heard.”

  Tris sussed. There was a touch of echo on his voice, and Ryann knew she was receiving it through the relay.

 

 

 

 

  Keelin called with a gasp.

 

  Ryann sussed. She glanced at Keelin, noting the relief on her face.

 

 

  There was a pause.

  But that hesitation belied his bravado.

 

 

 

  But the echo on his voice was stronger now. Ryann boosted the signal through her lattice, pushing to the relay.

 

 

 

  <…‌maybe longer. Goes up…>

 

 

 

  <…‌far too many of them‌…>

 

  <…‌can’t hear ..>

 

  <…>

  Ryann tried again, and she felt rather than heard his voice, distant and filled with static.

  Keelin called, her eyes wide.

  “Out of range, that’s all,” Ryann said. “But the torches are working. They’ll be fine.”

  Keelin nodded, but she didn’t look convinced.

  “They’ll be fine,” Ryann repeated, and they slipped into silence.

  The path was a sea of mud, and it pulled at Brice’s boots with every step. They’d never make the landing pad in eight minutes. Even ten was optimistic.

  The trees crowded the path, far too close for comfort. Those creatures had long limbs and sharp claws.

  Another one jumped from tree to tree, its hiss angry as it smoldered in the torch beams. Brice followed it with a torch, the burning-flesh stink tasting far better than their normal rancid odour. But then the creature was gone, into the shadows.

  The ground rose, and Brice trod through running water now, brown and thick with mud. Tris stumbled a few times, but that wasn’t too surprising. He wasn’t cut out for this. Gym training only went so far.

  This was Brice’s speciality, and he had to hep Tris. Even if he had to carry the fool. He’d done that with Cathal, hadn’t he? And Tris wouldn’t be a dead weight. That would make things easier.

  But Tris would never agree to that. He’d keep on stumbling, and Brice would have to make do with supporting him as best he could.

  The sky burst bright with lightning, the flash tinged green under the canopy of the trees. Silhouettes bulged with possible creatures, and outstretched limbs looked just like branches. The trees were alive.

  Tris slipped again, falling to one knee and swinging his other leg out behind his body. It struck Brice on his shin, and he staggered into Tris’ back, pushing him further down. There was a squelch as Tris’ hand sunk into the mud.

  “Watch it!” Tris said, not turning. He pushed himself up as Brice backed off.

  Brice bit his lip. He wouldn’t say anything. An apology rose in his mind, but he cut that off. Why the hell should he apologise for Tris slipping?

  This would have been so much easier on his own. Brice had watched Tris set the system up on the hold-out roof, and there was nothing to it. And the switch he was so worried about? It was mechanical. Faulty lattice or not, there was no way he could screw that up.

  Data-monkey shouldn’t have been so conceited to think nobody else could do that litt
le bit of the job. He was inflating his own importance, as usual. Bloody idiot.

  “How close are we?” Brice asked.

  “Close. Shut up and let me follow the map.”

  The path twisted and turned, but continued to climb. Brice’s boot sunk down in the mud, and it squelched as he pulled it free, sounding like a gasp, or a hiss. And maybe it was the sound from the things in the trees.

  Then the path widened, and Brice smiled at that. The trees were a good few paces away now. Far enough that one of those things would have to jump into the light to reach him.

  One tried, but both Brice and Tris swung their torches at the same time, Tris screaming some kind of childish war-cry. The creature staggered, its body steaming, and fell back into the trees. Tris took a step closer, and Brice was about to say something when the creature stood and ran, further into the forest.

  “And don’t bother coming back!” Tris yelled. He smiled, and puffed his chest out as he nodded to Brice. “They’re not so tough after all,” he said as they set off once more.

  Brice didn’t share Tris’ confidence. The torches worked, but what if they broke? Or what if so many of the creatures burst out of the trees?

  Then they arrived at the ramp, and Tris uttered a triumphant “Yes!”

  The ramp was wide enough for four to walk abreast, and led up to the landing pad, a couple of metres above the surrounding ground. The edges of the pad were steep, so only the ramp gave access. It was smooth, and the rain had coated it in a layer of mud.

  Brice leaned into it, pushing with his legs, and his boots slid. He reached forward, grabbing clumps of grass with his hand and pulling hard. By his side, Tris struggled, grunting each time he dug a foot into the mud and pulled with whatever he could find. But Brice was stronger, and he overtook, settling into a rhythm, letting the torches around his wrists fly freely. He breathed with his steps, or stepped with his breaths, and he quickened his pace, refusing to give his feet time to slide.

  He reached the top first‌—‌of course‌—‌and scanned, torches an arm’s length from his body. The landing pad itself was large enough to take a couple of craft, and was flat and muddy. The trees started some distance back, but their upper branches reached across the pad, pushed in by the storm. Overhead, Brice could no longer distinguish clouds from the night sky.

 

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