Shepherd's Wolf

by M. Andrew Reid

  “Shut up, guys,” Limerick hissed, “we’re getting close.” He pointed below, where moonlight glinted off a rifle scope somewhere in the gorge.

  When they reached the ledge, Limerick crouched behind a rock, and the others dropped beside him. Limerick traced glowing lines on the ground with his finger, creating a miniature map in the dirt. Red dots appeared on the map, marking enemy soldiers.

  He spoke in a harsh whisper, “They have positions in the gorge itself and on either bank. There are groups of soldiers scattered throughout the rocks,” the red dots flashed briefly, “and they have a large force here on the east bank.”

  Nevaeh frowned, “They must know that the wolf is coming from the east.”

  “Or they’re guessing,” Limerick said. “But it’s exactly what we want; they will have their backs to us and they won’t be expecting any trouble from this side.”

  “What about the Conquerors? If Grave is expecting us, he would know what to look for,” Iceblade asked.

  “Kogan should hold Grave’s attention.” Limerick waved his hands, and the map scrolled southward until it displayed the masses of Conquerors marching in loose formation and gathering on a ridge. “They are almost half a mile away. When this starts, any of them that want to break off will take a while to get here, and they’ll be turning their backs on Kogan. I expect that the Conquerors will be drawn to the west to engage Kogan, and the Marines on this bank will be ordered to watch the fight, but not interfere. We’re worried primarily about the east bank, and creating enough distraction to let the wolf slip through.”

  “We’re also worried about getting shot,” Pierce pointed out.

  “Yeah, a little bit of that, too,” Limerick admitted. “We’re going in three groups. Iceblade and Kate, you will sneak through to this line here and remove any threat in the gorge itself.” He pointed to an outcropping of rocks on the map, “Pierce and I will set up shop there and give you supporting fire while you cross down into the gorge. Pierce and I will open fire when we have set up and marked our targets; we will be detected first and draw their attention to the north and west. Myrmidon will engage immediately from the east after we start shooting.”

  Limerick flicked the map over to the eastern bank, “Nevaeh, Myrm, see how there is a large group lined up on this ridge? If you can get above them…”

  “I’ll be able to mow them all down,” Myrmidon chuckled.

  “We fight for a while, and do as much damage as we can. When our individual objectives are completed, we will work our way to the east bank, where there is a set of rocky outcroppings that form a sort of tunnel. It’s sheltered from above and below. That’s where the wolf will break through, and we’ll hold the tunnel until they pass. Then we’re done and we bail back to Verdia City for a beer.”

  “You’re making this sound easy,” Iceblade said.

  “It is easy,” Limerick replied. “They’ve set themselves up to deal with a threat from below, coming from the east. Their vehicles can’t move, and the rocks provide cover for us but not for them. The largest threat to us will be Grave.”

  Kate sneered, “I will deal with Grave if I see him.”

  “I have a question,” Nevaeh said. “What do we do if this is a scam, and Viper betrays us? It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.”

  “I’ll watch out for him.” Limerick replied. “If I need to pull the trigger, I won’t miss like I did last time.”

  Grimdark Hills

  Less than an hour before dawn, a bright light erupted from the Warrior Tower. The Conquerors were blinded momentarily; sitting stunned by fires they had built to keep warm. A beam of energy poured into the heavens, billowing from the tower’s white tip and banishing stars in a golden halo. Then, as quickly as it had erupted, the light vanished.

  “Form up!”

  Officers jogged past scattered bands of warriors, shouting orders. Get ready; the Explorers are coming; Kogan has arrived.

  Excited hands fastened straps on armor and secured helmets. Archers strung their bows and mages nervously twirled their staves as they walked to their positions. The Conquerors formed a wall of bodies, nearly three thousand strong, at the crest of a long ridge. They waited, searching the hills for any sign of Kogan. Slowly, the sky brightened as the sun peaked over the horizon. Black night sky became dark blue, and the scraggly trees that dotted the hills cast long shadows.

  …

  “We have visual…approaching Explorer forces,” a Stryker commander’s voice buzzed in Fischer’s earpiece. Reception was poor at over a mile away, “…extremely large target… hundred plus others.”

  “Pull back to the ridge at Charlie Nine,” White commanded. “Do not let them through your position, but do not interfere unless they threaten you.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “They see Kogan,” Fischer relayed the information to Alex. “We’re pulling back a bit to let the Conquerors deal with him.”

  Alex grinned, “You may want them to pull back even further.”

  …

  Kogan stopped on a ridge. Behind him, the disciplined force of NPC’s came to a crisp halt. He stared at the mass of Conquerors waiting on the hill opposite. A short, deep valley separated the two forces, with no cover between. The group of NPCs behind him was puny in comparison to the large Conqueror army.

  He glanced at the golden leaf he had tied to the wrist strap on his shield, putting aside creeping doubt and fear. Kogan raised Sentinel to the heavens, and the great white mace flared with brilliant light. Three times the mace flashed, and dimmed to a dull orange. Kogan hefted his shield, picked a spot in the center of the Conqueror lines, and charged. Silent and purposeful, the NPCs followed.

  …

  Limerick would have been able to see the flashes even without his goggles; Kogan’s mace flared brightly in the dim light of morning. He nodded to Kate and Iceblade, and the pair silently dropped down to a ledge beneath them. They continued their descent from rock to rock - two shadows in the pale dawn - until they reached an overhang occupied by four Marine riflemen.

  The ledge was an outpost above the gorge, with visibility on nearly every Marine position. Soundlessly, Iceblade drew a clear crystal dagger, and motioned to Kate. Kate darted forward, clamping her hand over a Marine’s mouth and drawing a knife across his throat. Iceblade exploded in a blizzard of ice and frost, quickly jumping to the remaining riflemen and freezing them in place with quick thrusts of his dagger.

  As the frozen soldiers crumbled into powder, Pierce and Limerick dropped down from the rocks above. They moved to the edge of the outcropping and surveyed the area below them.

  “Keep moving,” Limerick whispered. “Wait for us to fire before you engage again. Work your way to the target area and we’ll meet up.”

  Kate retrieved an assault rifle from the pile of gear, and slung it over her shoulder. Her saloon girl attire had been replaced with dark riding leathers, removing the last remnants of her former rosy personality. She glanced at Limerick, dipped her head toward him, and followed Iceblade into the dark abyss below.

  …

  Pierce pulled his heavy rifle from a small pouch on his belt. He checked a magazine of bullets and silently loaded the gun. Limerick retrieved his Winchester repeater from a leather scabbard on his back; the rifle was already loaded- he merely needed to cock the hammer.

  Cautiously, Limerick poked his head from behind a rock. Marines were scattered around the gorge on both sides of the bank. He and Pierce would concentrate on the west bank while supporting Kate and Iceblade. Limerick’s goggles highlighted soldiers moving among the rocks, their warm bodies glowing in the darkness. Strykers were large blobs of heat that distorted the air around them. Limerick picked his first targets. The numbers “1,” “2,” “3,” and “4” bobbed in the air above the heads of four soldiers, glowing faintly red in the darkness. Drifting slowly, these numbers followed each soldier along his patrol route.

  Pierce squinted at the targets below, “I’ll take odd numbe
rs. Are you ready?”

  Limerick nodded. “You first.”

  “Just like the old days.” Pierce’s right eye glowed with silver light. A thin silver beam, visible only to his allies, shot through the darkness and settled on the soldier marked with the number “1”. He brought his rifle to bear.

  …

  “Sergeant,” a soldier called up to his team leader, “there’s a number floating above your head.”

  The sergeant turned and looked down from his position atop a rock, and grinned at the corporal below him, “You have one too. Looks like you’re Number Two, Marine. As always, I’m Number One.”

  A puff of red exploded from the sergeant’s chest, and he tumbled off the rock. The other soldier crumpled an instant later, a ragged hole in his helmet.

  “Enemy contact!” a third soldier managed to shout a warning before a bullet slammed into his ear.

  Up and down the line, Marines dove for cover. Red numbers, always in the order “1, 2, 3, 4” bounced above soldier’s heads before being extinguished by a well-placed shot. A few soldiers returned fire, spraying bullets up at a pair of muzzle flashes in the rocks above them.

  …

  “Finally!” Myrmidon muttered when Limerick and Pierce began firing. He smiled at Nevaeh, and stepped around the boulder that had concealed them from the Marines below. Never a fan of stealth or subtlety, he laughed maniacally over the grinding whistle of his gun spinning up. Nevaeh sighed and shielded Myrmidon with golden light.

  Twenty or so Marines were spread on a ridge below Myrmidon. They shifted uncomfortably when the firefight erupted on the other side of the gorge. Some of them craned their necks to see what was going on, or stood before being shouted down by angry sergeants. The restless soldiers were startled by a sudden burst of laughter on their flank. They had little time to react before death began raining down on them.

  Myrmidon’s gun growled like a chainsaw, spewing an endless stream of white hot bullets from its glowing mouth. Myrmidon guided the carnage through the helpless soldiers below him, his face shining with child-like glee.

  A handful of half-hearted shots bounced off Myrmidon’s protective aura, but most of the Marines scattered - searching for cover in the rocks, diving down into the gorge, or taking refuge behind their Stryker vehicles.

  Myrmidon slowly marched toward the lip of the gorge, turning his gun on a nearby Stryker. Sparks fountained from the armored hull, and the constant stream of bullets ate through the thick plates protecting the ammunition cartridges for the main gun. The shells inside exploded, ripping the Stryker apart.

  A blast of heat and light rocked the hillside; pieces of wrecked Stryker sailed through the air. Myrmidon cackled with delight and walked the bullets to another target. A mountain of smoking empty shells grew at his feet.

  Nevaeh gasped when a hot shell bounced off her gown, leaving a burnt hole in the white silk. She hopped back and fired a short burst from her submachine gun, dropping a Marine as he attempted to retreat to the next ridge.

  Suddenly the chain-gun’s roar ceased, leaving behind the electric whine of the spinning barrels.

  “Hmm,” Myrmidon frowned, realizing the ammunition belt was gone. “Looks like I’m empty.”

  Marines took advantage of the lull in the mayhem, and began peppering Nevaeh’s golden aura.

  “Well we can’t just stand here,” Nevaeh replied, stretching her weapon harness to its limit and firing toward a group of soldiers hiding behind a rock. “It’s time to either run or fight.”

  Myrmidon tore at the straps that secured the gun, and the hunk of metal dropped away. He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out the curved blade Manticore II and his round shield, “Might as well fight.” With a shout, he launched himself toward the nearest group of soldiers.

  Grimdark Hills

  Muzzle flashes and the clatter of gunfire brought Viper to a halt. As the group stumbled up behind him, he watched the cliff face for signs of movement.

  “What is that?” Laura asked. “Is that guns?”

  Bishop squinted into the pale dawn, “Sounds like it’s back and forth.”

  Haymaker nodded, “I hear return fire. See! On the cliff. A couple rifles.”

  “That’s not Kogan,” Viper murmured. “He wouldn’t use guns. He got help from elsewhere.”

  “Well if Kogan is distracting them, we need to move now.” Wisp urged. “It’s only going to get brighter as the sun comes up, and we won’t be sneaking anywhere.”

  “We need to create more chaos,” Athena said. “We can distract and draw fire away from whoever is helping us. We need to clear a path for you as well.”

  Viper nodded, “Pull them south. We’ll hug the base of the cliff and try to enter the gorge from as far north as possible.”

  “Come on, Wisp,” Athena ordered. She was already in leopard form and bounding away before he could respond.

  Wisp waved goodbye to everyone and dashed after her. The pair soon disappeared over the next row of hills.

  “To the cliff, then,” Bishop said. “Quickly.”

  Viper spurred Venom, and the now smaller group charged northward. Bishop and Haymaker brought up the rear, following Gabe. The wolf picked his way around stones and thorny bushes on three legs. A marble cliff face filled the sky before them as they approached the base of the plateau. Gunfire and explosions, muffled by distance, echoed off the rocks.

  A sharp crack followed a sudden spray of gravel. Venom whinnied, and Viper pressed her onward, his head swiveling to find the shooter. Gunfire erupted from a distant ridge, further spooking Venom and forcing Gabe to dance away from geysers of dirt.

  Haymaker growled, “I see them! Keep going! We’ll meet you at the gorge.”

  Bishop followed Haymaker without hesitation. Both men rushed around tall stones and stony bushes toward an outcropping on the next ridge. Bishop could now see a group of soldiers firing their rifles whenever a tuft of white fur or the glimmer of Viper’s armor presented itself.

  Haymaker stopped behind a large rock, and took a breath, “I need to get something off my chest before we do this. I wasn’t entirely honest with you about my service history the first time we met. I did more than fly helicopters. I did a lot of things that had nothing to do with helicopters.”

  Bishop shrugged, peering out from behind the rock. The soldiers were intent on firing at Gabe and Venom and were not aware of the Mage and the Warrior at their flank. “We all served in our own ways. I’m not particularly proud of what I did at the end of my career.”

  “At least your career is public. I can’t talk about anything I’ve done. I was trained to be something that’s… not healthy for anyone. And now I’m an accountant,” Haymaker shook his head. “That’s what I do now. It’s irritating as hell being stuck behind a desk.”

  “Language.”

  “There are parts of me I can’t repress; old, dangerous parts. I’m terrified of picking up a weapon here; what if I like that too much? What if it’s not enough to pretend? I was hoping I would eventually get it out of my system, and I could move on. It would be nice to be normal inside; to find peace. It’s been bugging me that I have lied to you all this time.”

  “Well you won’t find peace here,” Bishop sighed. “I just figured that out a while ago. And you’re forgiven; I may have told a few white lies as well. We should exchange our dark tales and decide who has the most sins to atone for.”

  Haymaker jerked his head toward the group of soldiers and Conquerors. “Maybe peace is somewhere over there. When this is over, I’ll find you in the real world and we can grab a beer. If I’m going to unload the mess I’m carrying in my head, I think it should be you that hears it.”

  “You don’t think Haymaker will make it out of this?”

  Haymaker laughed, “Not likely. Bishop may not do so well, either.”

  Bishop shook his head, “This old man can take care of himself.”

  Shrouded in pale blue energy, a Guardian Mage stepped from behind the rock
and raised his staff. A blue disc of light appeared at his feet, and he hopped on with the enthusiasm of a skateboarder dropping into a half-pipe. Bishop glided down the hill, the wind tugging at his robes, driving a whirlwind before him.

  Swirling clouds of stones and debris smashed into the hilltop, scattering soldiers like autumn leaves. The Conquerors, seasoned in dealing with magical attacks, recovered first. Bishop recognized Lockjaw among them, and quickly put him in stasis - binding Lockjaw in a field of blue energy. Bishop smirked, knowing that Haymaker would complain that Bishop left the biggest threat for him to deal with.

  Bishop clubbed a Conqueror in the head as he zoomed past. Crucible rang in his hands like a crystal bell, and he nearly dropped the staff.

  Marines were getting back to their feet, and several of them opened fire. Bishop twirled Crucible, forming a pale blue shield that deflected the incoming bullets.

  One soldier barked a series of orders, and the Marines withdrew. Their real target was slipping away while they wasted time shooting at an old man with a stick.

  Bishop streaked after them, leaving Haymaker to deal with the Conquerors.

  …

  Haymaker reached the hilltop and tackled the first enemy he could reach. The Conqueror, a sorcerer of some kind wearing bright purple robes, squawked a warning to the others before Haymaker crushed his head against a rock.

  Four foes turned and drew their weapons. A Rogue with a short sword flashed directly behind Haymaker, hoping to catch him unaware. Haymaker whirled and caught the sharp blade against his left gauntlet. A quick open-palmed jab to the throat dropped the Rogue to his knees, and a powerful kick finished him.