Galefire III : Tether War

by Kenny Soward

  “Go ahead, Torri. I won’t be mad. Say what you have to say.”

  “Well, it’s just that she seemed real tired to me. She seemed kinda happy to go.”

  Lonnie’s jaw tightened, eyes stinging with tears. He swallowed as if he could stem the rising emotion coming like a flood to claim him, like the same river that had taken Selix’s body.

  Torri grasped his shoulders, giving him a little shake. “It wasn’t that she didn’t love you. She was just—”

  “Tired. I heard you.” Lonnie dropped his watering eyes, unable to look at the hill witch anymore. His sigh was shaky and sad. “Things had been hard for a long time. She’d been keeping the gang together while I kept my head low. It was rough on her, I know.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I got the feeling that she thought she’d done what she could. That she’d done it out of love for the gang. And I felt that she loved you deeply. And you know what?”

  “What’s that?”

  “That’s how a lot of people pass. That’s the feeling I get. A lot of `em, if they’ve lived long enough, just want to move on to the next thing.”

  A bitter chuckle escaped him. “I feel the same way right now.”

  “Me too. I’m old as shit. Sometimes I don’t feel like getting up. Would rather just stay in bed all day. I get tired of people’s complaints. Get tired of draggin’ my ass around these hills.”

  “What keeps you going?”

  Torri thought about it. “It’s the little things, I think. You know. Black leaf tea on a chilly morning. The animals. The trees. I don’t think so much of myself anymore. I just want others to get along. I want them to live a long life so they can see the same wonders I seen. All life’s little surprises.”

  “So, you just live for others at this point.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do. But I’m still afraid a lot, and I’m not sure why.”

  “Afraid to leave? Well, like you said about your roots.”

  “That’s just it. I’ve always been too scared to try. Been a long time since I been pushed.”

  Lonnie gave her a gentle push on the shoulder. “There’s your push.”

  A smile spread on Torri’s face. “Har har.” She drew out the hars in that country way of hers. “Point taken.”

  Lonnie’s anxiety over Selix’s final vibes faded a little, the sting removed like a sticker being pulled from the skin. The skin was still marked, but it would wound him no deeper. He could finally let it go, close the books on the past, and try to move forward with the next task.

  Torri stood. “So, you better get some sleep. You got everything you need?”

  “Yeah.” Lonnie nodded, watching her leave. But something in his heart leapt up through his mouth, and he said, “Hey!”

  “What?” Torri stopped with her hand on the door handle.

  Lonnie rose and went to her, caught her in a hug, arms wrapping all the way around her like he might do to a kid sister. Torri’s arms responded instantly, wrapping him up and squeezing him hard around the small of his back.

  The scent of wildflowers filled the room.

  After a long moment, the two let go and said goodnight.

  Lonnie stood in the doorway, hands out and pressed against the frame.

  His head turned, eyes thrown over his shoulder at Elsa laying on the bed. She was turned away from him, curled up on her right side. She’d thrown off the quilt and only a thin, dirty sheet covered her. Partly, at that. He could see her pale arm practically glowing in the near pitch black. Her body had been on fire the entire time she’d been healing, and they’d almost had to fight her to keep her covered.

  Lonnie went over and touched her bare arm. Her skin was cold to the touch. The fever must have passed.

  Removing his boots and jacket, he climbed into bed, curling up behind her and throwing one arm over her waist. She still smelled faintly of sweat and old rabbit blood. Absently, his fingers trailed up to her chest, trying to find the scars of Jedi’s handiwork.

  He smiled. The skin there was smooth and clean.

  And then Lonnie Bet-Ohman closed his eyes, pressed his face into her hair, and went to sleep.

  Chapter 23

  Lonnie strode out of the forest with Tavia tagging close behind him. They had another bunny for Elsa, and he wanted to see her one last time before he had to go.

  ECC operatives watched as he strode up to the front porch in his new gear, all borrowed from the extras Bess had stowed in one of the many vans and trucks parked down by their Grace Baptist Church van. Black, skin tight combat pants made of the stretchiest, comfortable, yet durable, material Lonnie had ever worn, and a thick shirt to match. All of it lightly padded at the elbows and knees with a thin layer of kevlar built into the chest.

  The boots were nothing short of miraculous. Thick and light, made of a combination of rubber, leather, and some sort of manufactured fiberglass. Felt like he could walk through lava or kick someone’s head in without causing himself a bit of harm.

  Two new 9mm pistols with anti-ripper rounds were holstered tightly at his hips, along with three carbon steel knives securely tucked into his boot, hip, and beneath his left arm.

  They’d offered him an ECC flack jacket but he’d turned it down, choosing instead to wear his own over the rest.

  It hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought, taking the ECC offer. It was just a confirmation of his own commitment. Confirmation to everyone that he was in the game to win. Made a huge difference in ECC morale, he could tell. They no longer eyed the gang with disdain, even if they knew Lonnie and his people didn’t take the Word of their Lord too seriously.

  Even Alex had nodded appreciatively when Crash emerged in some of his spare stuff, the material clinging to the big man’s body like a second skin. With the black suit and his wild dreadlocks hanging down past his shoulders, he looked like a force to be reckoned with.

  So, yeah, they’d all been geared up except for Elsa who’d been in bed the last time he’d seen her.

  Now, standing in the doorway of their room, Lonnie saw she was gone.

  “Where the hell did you go?” He mumbled, crossing the room and looking out the back window. What he saw there made him smile.

  A few seconds later and he was out at the woodsy jungle gym again. Elsa was sitting in the same swing where they’d gotten intimate just a few nights ago. She wore a coy grin, her eyes flashing a healthy pale opal once more. Looking sleek in her new ECC gear, with her hair cropped against her head, Elsa seemed strong again. She looked good. Damn good.

  Lonnie tossed the rabbit at her feet.

  “Me hunter. Me bring food.” He grunted like a caveman.

  Tavia, who’d been scampering behind him the entire time, giggled and quickly covered her mouth.

  The whorchal stood and came straight over throwing her arms around his neck. “Thanks for being there for me last night. Especially for the sexy cuddles.”

  Lonnie chuckled and accepted the next gift, a lingering and passionate kiss, the same kind as almost a week ago when they’d made love with some deeper, secret emotion. It was instantly frightening, yet his heart soared with the prospects of a deeper connection with the whorchal. Strange to think they’d been ready to shoot each other’s brains out just a few months ago. While Elsa’s passion was different than Selix’s had been, it was also very much the same. Elsa’s magic was just rawer, more volatile. Her spirit completely unpredictable except where her loyalties were concerned. And he needed a little of that right now.

  An infusion of hardcore fucking energy.

  “I will eat another rabbit for you, Lons. Not very delicious, but I do it to get stronger, since I cannot eat an ECC person.” Her lips nibbled at his neck. Teeth came out to bite at his ear. He found himself instantly aroused. “Or maybe I can.”

  He pushed her away with a laugh. Seemed the raw energy could be a bit distracting, too.

  “Look, we’ve got a mission.”

  “I know. You try to make us split up again, leaving poor El
sa wondering if I’ll ever see you again.”

  He shrugged. “We’re lucky to have made it this far. You know that.”

  “Ya.” She gave him a playful slap in the cheek. Her hand lingered there, eyes as focused as lasers. Her brow furrowed. “Crash and Ingrid are staying here. I’m coming with you.”

  Lonnie started to protest, but she hit him harder. This time it stung. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  “You need weapons to survive over there. So, I’m a weapon. Point me. Use me.”

  If there was one thing Lonnie had been good at, it was understanding this about whorchals. Especially this particular one. As long as Elsa fought for a cause she believed in, as long as she was killing for a cause she believed in, she was as happy as a cat with a big pile of catnip to roll around in.

  It wouldn’t be wise to fuck with that.

  “Yeah, kid. You’re in. Let’s go.”

  He turned to go join the ECC team, which was just now assembling in the front yard, trailing a very happy whorchal and a scampering cat-girl with a dead rabbit in her mouth.

  The assault team marched to the pond beneath the gentle prattling of the waterfall. It was chilly, the breaths of twelve operatives along with Bess, Alex, Lonnie and Elsa, expelled in clouds above their heads.

  Jeff, the medic, the dude he’d bummed cigarettes off the other day. Tuck and Betty, two small-framed scouts. Tall Thomas, at least six feet five inches of lean-wired limbs. The compact Nina Yu, and her partner Dion Diallo, a former collegiate athlete. Rachel Dillard, the backup medic and resident sniper. Regular fighters and best buddies, Scotty Sawyer and Sean Middleton, even though they couldn’t look more opposing. Scott was a clean-cut, golden-haired jock, and Sean wore his hair long and pulled back in a ponytail, a three-day shadow of whiskers on his jaw.

  There were three others, new faces with names Lonnie couldn’t quite remember.

  Sixteen total.

  All geared up and ready to go.

  Lonnie saw the anticipation in their eyes. No fear, just confidence. Everyone trying to keep their game faces on and their shit together. All except for Jeff, who seemed to be especially uncomfortable judging by his green complexion. Yet, Lonnie was probably more nervous than he was. To Lonnie, it was the fear of the known. Coming home again, back to a place he’d had to escape from or die. But that was then. Now, Makare was gone. Or at least banished to someplace else. He’d be free to go home to Xester if he wanted to.

  The thought of being so close made his stomach complain with nervous gurgles.

  Torri and Kristanna were there to see them off. The latter helped to check gear and offer pep talks while Torri stood a little off from the group, straddling the communication cables that ran from the forest into the pond, watching the proceedings with a neutral expression.

  “You newbies have your vomit bags, right?” Jeff quipped, still looking green. “First trip to Hell is always a little nauseating.”

  “Only slackers like you need a vomit bag,” Alex Rios sneered where he was repacking some of his gear.

  “Yeah, well maybe I’ll slack next time I’m patching you up. Let Jesus take the wheel and stuff.” Jeff’s voice was deadpan, but his sarcasm bit.

  “Just don’t get any potato chip crumbs in my wound, Fat Boy.”

  “Okay, you sack of balls.”

  “Jeff, put a sock in it.” Bess gave the command before Alex had a chance to go knock the medic’s head off.

  Grinning, Lonnie looked down into the pond, wondering where the gate was. Would they have to swim straight down until they were sucked through, like back at Gruff’s when his pets had dragged them into the mud, or would they just float until Torri activated some sort of tether magic?

  He’d find out soon enough.

  They spent the rest of the time without chatter. When done checking their gear, many closed their eyes and reverently touched the crosses on their chests, lips moving in silent prayer.

  Lonnie checked his MP5 and handguns where they were shrink-wrapped in thick, protective plastic. Air tight, not a single drop of moisture would get in.

  “Okay, people,” Bess called from the top of the rock outcrop overlooking the pond. “You know the drill. Based on the atmospheric readings we took last time, the air in Hell has minor toxic variants. So, keep your breathing filters on. They’re equipped with microphones and will allow us to communicate clearly.”

  Her eyes hardened, and she stepped to the edge, eyes scanning the assembled team with a calm intensity. “We’ll press north beyond Outcrop #1, across the two dunes, and then all the way to the back side of Outcrop #2. Our destination sits at the top of that mound of rock. That’s why you’re carrying climbing gear. At the top of that rise, we’ll send scout teams to verify a way in, and then we’ll enter the facility with intent to engage the enemy. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Commander!”

  “Kill Team, are you ready?”

  “Yes, Commander!”

  “Are you one with your brothers and sisters in God?”

  “Yes, Commander!”

  “Then let us pray.”

  Heads dropped. Hands reached out to grasp another’s. Thomas took Lonnie’s, Lonnie took Elsa’s, and she took Nina Yu’s.

  Pondcliff grew intensely quiet.

  “Dear Lord. We gather before You today to do Your will. We gather here at this beautiful place to go on a mission that puts our very lives and souls at risk. We thank You for providing us this last vision of beauty. These trees. This pond. This wonderful, baptismal flow of water.”

  Lonnie glanced up to see Torri had also bowed her head.

  “And while we are terribly afraid, we ignore those fears in order to serve You. And we thank You for helping us find a way to do this perilous deed. Please protect us and give us strength in our mission. To the very last man or woman, bless us with Your grace. In the name of the Lord, Amen.”

  “Amen,” spoke the reverent gathering.

  Lonnie glanced left to see Elsa rolling her eyes, an interesting grin on her face. He gave her hand a squeeze, and she squeezed back.

  “Okay, people. Let’s get ready to roll. And remember, as soon as you hit the water, swim down five or ten feet. Look for the shelf of rock right beneath us. Once you get under it, move another five or ten yards and you’ll come up in the chamber. Shouldn’t take you more than ten or fifteen seconds. Ready?”

  “Ready!” came the shouted reply.

  “Okay. After you, Alex.”

  Alex nodded, gave the surrounding group a shit eating grin, and calmly stepped backward to drop like a stone into the pool. One by one, the other ECC commandos followed. Tuck and Betty. Nina and Dion. Scotty and Sean. On and on, each of them making a minimal splash and not even coming up for a breath of air before turning and diving straight down. Lonnie glanced up at Torri. She gave him a brief nod and a wave. Tavia, the girl version, stood behind her, arms curled around Torri’s waist, watching them with those strange eyes of hers.

  Rachel and Tall Thomas were the last two in and then it was just Lonnie, Elsa, and Bess.

  Bess stepped up, motioning them closer. “Okay, what you want to—”

  Elsa leapt off the edge hitting the water with a big splash. She smoothly flipped herself in the water and disappear out of site.

  Bess shook her head. “Okay then.”

  “She’s a little impulsive.”

  “Yeah, I know. Okay, if you get lost down there, just open your eyes and swim under the ledge toward the lights. I’m not sure how much swimming you’ve done, but you’d be surprised how turned around you can get. If worse comes to worse, follow the communication cables.”

  Lonnie peered into the water, then at his jacket. “On second thought.”

  “Yeah, you’re going to sink like a stone with that on. It’s going to be a pain in the ass when it gets water logged.”

  Lonnie quickly took it off and handed it to Kristanna. “Take care of that. Put it somewhere safe.”

  Kristanna nodd
ed, wrinkling her nose at the sweat-stained leather.

  “Okay. Off with you.”

  Truth was, Lonnie hadn’t been underwater in a hundred years or more. Couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gone swimming. Still, he didn’t want to make a big deal about it.

  He took a deep breath, held it, and jumped in.

  The icy pond water hit his face. Heart pounding, he forced himself to put his head down in the water and kick. It only took a second for him to adjust to the temperature, and then he was descending along the rock wall. Seemed there was no way it could be all that deep, but when he couldn’t find an opening, the panic hit him. Maybe he’d gotten turned around in the process and the actual falls were right above him. Maybe he’d gone past the opening completely.

  Shit.

  Already his lungs were starting to ache. He was used to breathing. Probably hadn’t held his breath more than ten seconds in decades. Not something fade rippers worked on in training exercises. Hell, they never trained.

  He opened his eyes wide and was happy to discover a very faint hint of light in the blurry murk just a few feet below him. Kicking his feet one more time, his fingertips slipped over a lip of rock and he pulled himself inside, ducking his head to avoid cracking it.

  At the end of a watery passage shone a more robust luminescence. He kicked and swam toward it, head bumping against the rock ceiling. His mind imagined the worst possible outcome. Maybe there was no place to surface. Maybe there would be a traffic jam of legs keeping him from moving ahead.

  Something in his belly wiggled with panic, and his movements became more frantic.

  As he drew toward the end, the white light became more vibrant. He made out several legs, yes, but his head no longer bumped against the roof.

  Lonnie stood tentatively, lifting his face from the water. He found himself inside a low-ceilinged chamber. The ECC commandos were there, packed in like sardines. Lonnie’s eyes met Dion Diallo’s before being drawn to the gate where it sat on a stone dais. It was close to what Lonnie imagined. As wide as a man was tall, its circular frame was six inches of stone, the bottom half carved with various runes and pictographs. At top was where Torri had done her tuning. There were her own symbols and signs smeared in what appeared to be blood, finger-marks in red. Several pentagrams drawn in different ways connected the bottom half of the symbols to the top.