Gunz

by William Stacey

  "What's going on, Elizabeth?" Alex asked, now helping her move the dryer.

  She dropped down on her knees and reached an arm behind the dryer, fumbling about with her fingers. "Don’t know yet," she grunted, straining to reach into the square cavity the size of a shoebox cut into the wall. "Years ago, an electrician removed the drywall but either forgot to fix it or couldn't be bothered. My father just shoved the dryer up against the opening. Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

  "I … I guess. I don't know what you want me to say. I don't understand what's happening here. Is this your home, Elizabeth? Because that's … that's just not possible."

  "My brothers and I used to hide things from our parents here, comics they didn't want us reading, or … well, the boys hid nudie magazines and stuff—or at least they used to before we got internet. It's been years, so maybe only Stephen remembered it. With his skinny arms, he could have reached back here easily." Her fingers brushed over something smooth and plastic within the cavity, and she knew her hunch had been correct. She pulled out the family camcorder—the one Stephen had been filming her with the last time she visited.

  Somehow, she wasn't surprised.

  She sat cross-legged, holding the camcorder in her lap, and powered it up then swung its monitor out and pressed Play. Static hissed over the small screen, then it came to life, exposing a jerky video of her family—her parents and brothers—still in their pajamas, carrying luggage, through which the ends of clothing stuck out. She saw her mother in a pink bathrobe turn to face the person filming. "Stephen, put it down. We have to go," she pleaded, her voice high and sharp with fear.

  "Not without showing Elizabeth how to find us," her young brother answered, the camera shaking.

  Her father entered the scene, rushing past, his arms filled with plastic grocery bags overflowing with cans and water bottles and other supplies. "Listen to your mother, Stephen!" her father yelled over his shoulder then disappeared from sight.

  Around them, it was dark, the sky glowing red with sunrise. The date-time stamp at the bottom of the screen displayed the morning of the dark elf invasion, just after 6:00 a.m. The camera jerked at the echo of gunfire as well as sirens in the background. Her brother turned the camera around so that it faced him. Her heart almost broke when she saw the fear on his young face. "Elizabeth, I know you'll come for us. Rory says you're a secret agent now, a spy. That's why you have bodyguards. Bring help. Bring the army. Hurry. I'm—Mom's frightened."

  Elizabeth heard the distinctive shriek of a wyvern in the background, and rage filled her when Stephen, hearing it as well, sobbed in fright, looking up into the sky. "It's monsters, Elizabeth. Monsters!"

  "Damn it, Stephen!" his father yelled. "Get in. We're leaving right now!"

  The camera jerked about as Stephen began to run. It stopped, once more focusing on Stephen's face. "I've left a note in an envelope on the mantel," he said breathlessly. "It'll tell you where to find the camcorder. Come find us. We're going with the new neighbors, the Johansons. They have an RV, and Dad says we may need to live out of it for a while. We'll be in Dawson Creek or maybe somewhere else. I don't know. Find us. Find their RV."

  "Now, Stephen!" her mother screamed.

  More gunshots rang out, and Elizabeth saw a heavyset man with a beard, the new neighbor, Albert Johanson, dart past wearing pajama bottoms and cradling a hunting rifle. The camera went out of focus then sharpened again on a drivable RV, a green one with a yellow racing stripe running down its chassis.

  The realization stole her breath.

  The same RV…

  "Find us," Stephen repeated. "Protect us."

  The screen went dark.

  Elizabeth sat back, staring at the blank camcorder screen.

  "I'm … I'm sure they're fine," Alex softly said.

  "I know they are." She closed her eyes, the tears flowing. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me come home one last time. I understand now. You needed me to be a warrior. I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

  "Doubted me about what?"

  "I'm ready," she said, reaching out and gripping Alex's hand so that he could help her to her feet. She stared into his face, at peace for the first time since Clara died. "When we go out into the street, don't hold back, because I won't."

  ALEX WENT FIRST, charging out the front door, firing his LMG as he ran. Elizabeth was several steps behind him, casting fireballs and lightning bolts from the Brace. Before the dark elves even realized they were under attack, Alex and Elizabeth had killed at least a dozen. A handful more came running from farther down the street, and Alex cut them apart with short bursts of automatic fire.

  More warriors came from the left, and Elizabeth cast fire among them, the heat searing even from a hundred feet away. As she had told Alex, she held nothing back. The dark elf warriors died running, their flesh turning to ash in a searing moment.

  She felt channeling just before a fireball flew at them, and darted closer to Alex. The fireball dissipated into a shower of burning sparks that fell harmlessly about them. Elizabeth saw the caster, one of the female mages who had ambushed them at the paintball range, the one with the insane look in her eyes. She stood near the base of the stairs leading up to the platform near the Culling Machine, a fighting knife in each hand and an insipid smile on her lips. When she realized her spell had failed, her smile faltered, replaced by confusion. Elizabeth moved away from Alex again and channeled a lightning bolt through the Brace that burned a hole through the woman's chest the size of her leg.

  Something hissed as it whipped past her cheek.

  "Get down!" Alex yelled, grabbing her and pulling her with him behind an abandoned car. A handful of dark elf warriors hid behind a small yellow school bus in the school's parking lot, taking turns leaning out and shooting crossbow bolts at them. Alex let his LMG hang from its sling while he pulled two grenades from his vest then used his forefingers to pull the pins on each grenade. He peered over the top of the car, a Toyota Land Cruiser.

  "Do it," she said, sliding at least two steps from him and Witch-Bane. "I have your back."

  He rose and threw both grenades. As he did, both dark elves released their shafts. Elizabeth channeled—more easily duplicating Leela's shield weave the second time. The crossbow bolts shattered against her barrier. Leela would be proud of me.

  As Alex's grenades rolled under the bus, Elizabeth ducked. Seconds later, the grenades detonated, lifting the bus into the air and throwing it back upon the dark elves hiding behind it. Alex rose and emptied his LMG into the survivors.

  He dropped the now-empty drum magazine onto the asphalt then drew out a thirty-round rifle magazine from his vest and inserted it into the feed chamber on the left side of the LMG then drew back and released the cocking handle, letting it slide forward and prime the weapon for firing. He met Elizabeth's eyes. "One final push, Gunz."

  There were, Elizabeth saw, only a handful of defenders near the machine, and she nodded. "Covering!" she yelled, leaning past the car to cast a fireball at figures moving near the machine.

  "Moving," Alex replied, getting up and darting forward.

  The flames from her fireball set three figures on fire—mages or warriors, she couldn't tell. They spun, screaming and burning, before mercifully falling over to lie still. Atop the control platform, Elizabeth saw three figures: Horlastia, she realized from the winged helmet and distinctive red-gold scaled armor, as well as two dwarves, a bald male and a redheaded female. Suddenly, the male dwarf rushed at Horlastia, a hammer in his hand raised to strike her. He took only two steps before he screamed in pain, falling face first, dropping the hammer and trying to reach behind himself to get at something on his neck—one of those foul centipedes, Elizabeth knew without having to see. Horlastia set the dwarf on fire with a flick of her hand, a look of utter contempt in her eyes.

  Damn her!

  Alex took a knee, replacing his magazine and firing more short bursts. "Covering!"

  "Moving." Elizabeth sprinted past him, closing the
distance to the metal stairs leading up to the machine's control dais, past the smoldering remains of the mad dark elf woman. Then she froze.

  Horlastia stood atop the platform, holding the dwarven woman before her, using her as a shield. While Elizabeth stood frozen, Horlastia cast a lightning bolt at her. Too late, Elizabeth tried to weave one of Leela's shields, but Alex darted past her, and the lightning bolt dissipated into sparks. He raised his LMG to fire.

  "Alex, don't shoot! It's one of Kargin's people."

  As Alex hesitated, Horlastia grinned, preparing another spell, the golden tower behind her. At the summit of the tower, the Shatkur Orb glowed with emerald fire as waves of energy—stolen lives—flowed into it. A vast fiery ring a hundred feet wide floated over the Shatkur Orb, another gateway. Every few seconds, the orb pulsed and shot out a column of green fire into the gateway. A handful of boggarts and a single massive troll charged down the street, coming to reinforce the dark elf warriors they had already killed. "Take her!" Alex yelled. "I got them."

  She darted past Alex to the foot of the steps. Behind her, she heard Alex's LMG rattle away in bursts. Horlastia's hand blazed with magic, and Elizabeth just managed to raise another of Leela's shields before Horlastia's lightning struck it.

  Horlastia bared her teeth in rage, still gripping the terrified dwarven woman with one hand while preparing another spell with the other. Elizabeth heard another grenade detonate behind her, followed by a too-long burst of automatic fire. A glowing red translucent disc appeared before Horlastia and the dwarf as she cast her own shield spell.

  What do I do?

  Then she remembered the look of surprise in Tlathia's eyes when Elizabeth first used telekinesis. Elizabeth watched Horlastia behind both her glowing shield and her dwarven hostage, and she realized with sudden clarity that the dark-elf mage had no knowledge of telekinesis.

  Time to teach her.

  She channeled around Horlastia's shield, sending her tendrils of mana wrapping around the dark-elf mage, and wrenched her away from her hostage to dangle several feet in the air. The dwarven woman scrambled back, her eyes wide. Elizabeth, her Brace-enclosed hand held out before her, channeling the weaves of telekinesis that held Horlastia helpless, climbed the steps. The dark elf woman said something, her eyes pleading.

  "I know," said Elizabeth softly, looking up at her. "But you chose to come here." She made a fist of the Brace and crushed Horlastia's spine.

  Her corpse fell with a clatter of her armor, her winged helmet rolling free to land near the dwarf on her knees. The dwarven woman picked it up and stared at it wide-eyed. At the base of the stairs, Alex stood among a pile of dead boggarts and one large troll before sprinting up the stairs to join her.

  "There are more coming," he panted then raised his LMG into his shoulder and fired a long burst, sending more boggarts scurrying for cover down the street. "Hurry. Whatever you need to do, do it now. We're not going to get another chance."

  She drew the Shatkur Orb from her pocket then looked up the golden tower at the other orb, the gateway, and the waves of green energy.

  So many dead.

  Alex was changing magazines again, watching their rear. "Hurry!" he yelled over his shoulder.

  "Alex," she said softly.

  He fired a short burst, cutting down several boggarts who had tried to charge out from behind a car.

  "Alex," she repeated, more firmly this time.

  Confusion on his face, he ceased fire and turned to face her.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him, and whispered into his chest, "Thank you for coming with me, for being with me."

  He hesitated then hugged her back with one arm, the other holding his LMG away. "Hey, no need to thank me. I couldn't let you do this alone."

  "I know." She pulled away and channeled mana into the orb, opening up a gateway to Leela, Paco, and Kargin in the underground complex. She smiled when she saw her friends one last time. "You're a good man, Alex Benoit."

  With her leg behind his, tripping him, she shoved him back through the gateway.

  As he fell, realization flashed across his eyes—too late. "No!"

  She picked up the terrified dwarven woman with telekinesis and lifted her through the gateway. Alex was scrambling back to his feet, lunging forward, and she sent the dwarf colliding against him, knocking both of them down. "Keep your promise to Kargin," she said. She severed the gateway, leaving behind a ring of black smoke.

  She was alone—almost.

  Scores of enemy warriors, boggarts, trolls, and dark elves rushed toward the stairs, their weapons flashing in the green glow of the magical energy in the sky. Ignoring them, Elizabeth turned and held the Shatkur Orb in her left hand, the hand wearing the Brace.

  For the first time ever, the Brace fit her perfectly.

  "Thank you for giving my life purpose. Thank you for my family, for Clara. I'm blessed."

  She channeled lightning, funneling it through the orb, focusing it, magnifying it a hundred thousandfold. The flash was blinding when the supercharged lightning bolt hit the second orb atop the tower. Then, unexpectedly, a presence joined her and became one with her.

  She gasped.

  56

  Sharon Chan turned in the pilot's seat of the Chinook, the engine screaming as the rotors picked up speed, once again throwing up a storm of impenetrable ash. She looked at Alex sitting in the copilot's seat. "Something's wrong. Flight Ops isn't answering the radio."

  His gaze took in the concern in her eyes. How long had the machine been operational before he and Elizabeth had attacked—minutes, a half hour … longer? They had been underground for much of it. He shook his head. "We'll figure it out later, after we find Elizabeth."

  "You don't understand, Alex. There's no one on the radio at all."

  He had no words.

  He sat there for several moments as the black ash cloud swirled around them, obscuring everything, then he pointed through the canopy in the direction he thought Fort St. John was. "Go. Just fly."

  Sharon increased the aircraft's collective and throttle, rising into a blind hover. Then she pushed forward on the cyclic, dropping the aircraft's nose and rushing forward. In moments, they burst out of the ash cloud and could see again. She gained altitude, and they soared over the sparkling Peace River.

  The others were resting in the cargo bay.

  This is taking too long, Alex thought.

  The terrified female dwarf, with Kargin translating, had helped Alex carry the others back to the helicopter. Kargin alone had carried the unconscious Paco in a sling on his back, with Clyde under his one good arm. Alex had struggled with the stretcher on the three trips for Huck, Leela, and Helena, but the female dwarf didn't even seem remotely tired as she lifted the other end. Dwarves, it seemed, were impossibly strong. It had still taken them a couple of hours to move everyone, and now the sun was beginning to drop in the west. Cassie was awake now, and although she was still too exhausted to heal the wounded, she helped make them more comfortable.

  Alex looked at the darkening sky. Even down at the bottom of the Bore Hole, they had felt the earth shudder when Elizabeth had destroyed the Culling Machine. The sky to their east, west, and south was a deep crimson, but dark storm clouds gathered to the north. Lightning bolts arced down intermittently, and the aircraft shuddered in the turbulence and strong winds.

  "Alex…" Sharon hesitated, as if unsure or unwilling to speak.

  "What?"

  "How do you know we're not flying into a radiation cloud … or something else?"

  He hadn't considered that possibility. "I don't know, but how can we not look for her?"

  Sharon sighed heavily. "She couldn't have survived, Alex. You didn't see the blast, the shock waves. I've never seen anything like it before. It almost defies description. It wasn't an explosion—or at least, not just an explosion. The entire skyline over the city seemed to … draw in upon itself, like a … I don't know, a black hole maybe." She shook her head, staring straight a
head at the violent storm clouds. "It was … biblical."

  "We have to look."

  Sharon flew over the devastated city. Flattened buildings spread out from the epicenter that had been the Culling Machine, looking as though an earthquake had completely wiped away the city. Yet despite the devastation, here and there, a building stood untouched. "There," she said. "You see that?" She pointed to their left, where a kilometer or so away from where the city had been, figures darted into the woods—not human, but boggarts.

  "If some of the enemy survived, Elizabeth might have as well."

  His hopes died when they approached the epicenter where the school had been. Everything was gone, the forest and buildings crushed into piles of tinder. Even the surrounding ground was black for a half-kilometer around where the machine had been. Nothing remained of the Culling Machine. Smoke rose, displaced by their rotor wash. Sharon circled the site before bringing the Chinook in for a landing.

  A weight settled on Alex's heart as he stared at the carnage.

  No one survived this.

  AS THE STORM clouds boiled overhead, Alex wandered alone through the remains of Elizabeth's home, his boots trailing ash and dirt. The entire building had been flattened, as if by a giant's palm. He saw a corner of the treat bag from which Elizabeth had fed her cat lying among the refuse. With trembling fingers, he pulled the bag from the ruins. As he did, its remaining contents spilled out.

  They had lost so many people: the civilians in Fort St. John, the soldiers of Task Force Devil, even the Recce Squadron—and … for what? Were we too late after all? Is anyone still alive?

  Here, away from the others, where they couldn't see him, he fell apart, dropping to his knees in the rubble that had been Elizabeth's home, and began to sob uncontrollably. He didn't know how long he remained like that, but then he heard something impossible, a soft meow, so timid at first he thought he was mistaken. It came from beneath the nearby rubble. He scrambled back and pulled away shattered pieces of wood, revealing the corner of a broken pantry. The collapsed pantry had fallen in such a way that it had created a hollow. From within the hollow, Elizabeth's cat—Cookie—darted out and licked his hand.