The Cumerian Unraveling Trilogy (Scars of Ambition, Vendetta Clause, Cycles of Power)

by Jason Letts

“I’m not, OK? I stole this uniform to give me cover. I need to find them to get them out of town. Do you know where anybody is hiding out around here? I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “You going to let me go?” the man asked, and Taylor nodded. “A few fellas from Hops got a still and an underground tub for moonshine not far from the grain warehouses. You’ll see the pipes coming out of a shack somewhere in the middle.”

  “Where is it?” Taylor asked. He wasn’t all that familiar with the city, certainly not to the degree that he would know what various warehouses were used for.

  “To the north,” the man said.

  “Shit.” Taylor let him go, glared at the man momentarily, and then retreated back outside and around the corner. A dumpster against a wall allowed him to climb onto the roof of the building, where he looked over an area densely packed with pale stucco buildings. On top of it all seemed to rest the gargantuan vehicle, which had gun turrets raining bullets down. The clatter and popping was incessant, and Taylor could’ve only guessed how many fighters were swarming around the area. Although the crusher took plenty of fire, nothing stopped it from slowly pushing south.

  Taylor’s mood grew somber as he realized he was going to be forced to venture headlong into the firefight. Smoke rose from fires and vehicle exhaust, creating a surreal haze that enveloped the area. It seemed like After was beckoning him onward, and he could not resist its call.

  Returning to the streets, Taylor began to traverse the back alleys and crawlspaces leading to the northwest, but he’d barely made it a few blocks before a nearby explosion showered him with dust. Some mortar had eviscerated the building, not the giant crusher, but he still felt his heart buckle at the thought of being so easily laid to waste. It occurred to him that getting closer to the fighting, not farther away where shells could land, would actually be the safer move.

  Keeping his eye out for any shacks among the buildings, he found himself coming up along behind a few soldiers hiding behind an overturned car. Two of them were peeking out from around the side, while one was on the ground curled up into a ball. They waved Taylor over as soon as they saw him.

  “Are the reinforcements coming?” a woman in armored Guard attire asked.

  “What reinforcements?” Taylor’s comment immediately drained any enthusiasm from her face.

  “You mean you aren’t leading the way for anyone carrying additional ammo? We’re getting slaughtered out there. We don’t have the bullets to keep pace, and there’s no way to get through their armored trucks to force them into hand-to-hand combat,” she said. Taylor looked down at the coward on the ground. “These conscripts are not working out at all. Most of them can’t lift a finger or have run for it.”

  “I see,” Taylor said, surprised the Guard was already falling back on its heels. “And what about that thing?”

  With a look he gestured at the crusher looming over the buildings in the distance.

  “It just seems invincible,” she said, but Taylor shook his head.

  “Let me tell you, it’s not. If it’s made by the Wozniaks, you can bet the thing was rushed to production, shoddily built, and is hanging together by a thread. Don’t let the massive amount of steel there fool you. There’s got to be a way to take it down.”

  “Wait, where are you going?” the woman asked when Taylor started around their defensive barrier. Taylor stopped briefly and looked back at her. She was young, dark-haired, and had obviously gone through Guard training, but the threats ahead had gotten into her eyes and head.

  “I’m going to find a way through.”

  Keeping as close to the exterior of the building as possible, Taylor headed closer to the front lines and the incessant sound of gunfire mixed with revving engines. Somehow in his head everything seemed to take so long to get anywhere. It was as if his legs were barely moving. The altercation with Keran seemed like cycles ago.

  After making a left and then a right turn, Taylor could tell that the brunt of the Guard’s forces was only a short distance ahead. Peering around a corner, he saw they’d been able to dump a large pile of sandbags in the middle of the road to create a blockade for the smaller vehicles. The crusher loomed in the distance, but the sandbags allowed Guard soldiers to fire at the Wozniak’s foremost vanguard.

  Taylor waited for a lull in the shooting to dash for the barrier, which he hoped would allow him to get over to the west more where Randall might be hiding, but he only made it in a few feet before something snapped out and grabbed him by the leg. Taylor looked down in horror at the young man lumped against a set of stone steps who’d managed to halt him.

  “Help me,” he groaned, and Taylor watched as he let an arm drop from his midsection to reveal a wound on his right side. Blood dribbled through a hole in his uniform. His face was pale and his grip quickly weakened.

  “I can’t,” Taylor said, having no idea how he could possibly help. There was no way he could remove the bullet or even assess the injury.

  “Please,” the young man begged. He shuddered and coughed.

  As bad as the injured soldier’s situation was, Taylor would end up just like him if he continued to stand around in the open where any stray bullet could come screaming through. But it was excruciating just to look at the poor guy dying without anyone around to lift a finger to try to stop him. Whether he was a true Guard member or just a citizen stuffed into a uniform, he didn’t deserve that.

  “Here, give me your arm,” Taylor said. The injured man was essentially a lump of clay, hardly able to move on his own, but Taylor lifted him up and pulled him back around the corner. Glancing in desperation down empty streets, he realized the only option was to go all the way back to the soldiers hiding behind the overturned car, if they were still there.

  Although it was just a few blocks away, the going was much slower carrying a man who was unable to walk under his own power. A few figures here or a vehicle there scooted across the road in the distance, but there was no one around who could lend any assistance.

  “I’m sorry,” the soldier huffed, his face pinched from the pain. Taylor told him not to worry. There had to be someone around who could get him back to the camp on Triton Kniviscent square where there’d be a medical facility.

  Coming around the last corner, Taylor wasn’t thinking when he pushed right around and a bullet cracked the brick building not a foot from his head.

  “Hey, it’s me!” he shouted to the jumpy idiots behind the car, who hadn’t taken the millisecond necessary to see from his uniform that he was ostensibly on their side.

  “I didn’t mean it,” the woman said. They hadn’t budged an inch since he left them and probably wouldn’t mind dragging their injured comrade all the way back to the Spiral. When they took one look at him, their eyes widened into saucers.

  “You can make up for it by bringing him back and getting some help for him. Maybe for him too,” Taylor said, pointing to the coward on the ground huddling with his arms around his legs.

  “We can do that,” she said, extending her arm to take some of the injured soldier’s weight.

  Unencumbered, Taylor was able to return to the sand barrier without difficulty and reach the front lines free of any more poor souls. There were dozens of soldiers behind the blockade, inside nearby buildings, and on the roves. Most of them had on enhanced armor and carried the Guard’s unique style of firearm, a short barrel with a big butt that could be used as a bludgeoning weapon. It was clear enough that the Guard soldiers around were already trying to conserve ammo, firing only occasionally compared to the onslaught of the Wozniak guns camped in the distance.

  One of the soldiers, a brutish guy who looked like he could push over a tree, settled onto the sand bags next to Taylor and gave him a quizzical look.

  “We’re getting a squad together to try to swoop around and get them from behind. You in?” he asked.

  Once Taylor got a look around at the area and saw that he still wasn’t near anything that might be called a warehouse, he realized that R
andall was most likely farther to the north and west. That amounted to enemy territory. Teaming up with a small group seemed like the best opportunity to get there, and Taylor nodded.

  The insignia on the soldier’s uniform denoted his status as a cadet, possibly someone who hadn’t yet completed Guard training when he was thrown into this, but already he was leading a daring raid on the Wozniak’s position. There were five of them in total, one who had a gun strapped to his back, while the others had standard batons or long knives.

  “Eyes on each other at all times. We find a way across, search for a point of vulnerability, and exploit it. Best case scenario is we’re able to commandeer a vehicle and use it to attack the others,” the cadet said, giving Taylor a wary look.

  Taylor was sure he’d never seen the cadet before, certainly not while he was at Guard headquarters or in Toine, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a chance of recognition. As they broke into a nearby building and ascended to the top floor, Taylor thought of all of the different ways someone might know him. If being involved in the death of the chancellor wasn’t bad enough, the cadet may just have recognized him as a Bracken and maligned him under that pretense. Regardless, Taylor wasn’t about to become an intentional casualty of this already dangerous mission.

  From the top floor, the group was able to progress a short distance forward before coming to the end of the building. The buildings contained little more than a thin carpet and sparse furniture, and the windows lined up perfectly and were only separated by a few feet. The soldier with the gun took a shot through them to make sure they’d break easily.

  “Who wants to be the first one to cross the line?” the cadet asked. He had a furtive grin.

  “I’ll do it,” Taylor said.

  Taking a deep breath, he got into position to make a run at the window. He needed to generate enough momentum to carry him across despite the glass keeping him in place. Taylor broke into a sprint and powered forward, ducking his head and closing his eyes as he leapt off the bottom of the windowsill, heard the sound of glass crashing twice, and landed on the floor of the opposite building.

  He barely had time to glance back to see what he had done when he spotted the others following right behind. Quickly rolling out of the way, he watched them land on the floor behind him.

  “We should have a much easier time sneaking through from here,” the cadet said, brushing himself off.

  But he’d no sooner finished his statement than the sound of gunfire and shattering glass echoed all around them. If Taylor hadn’t already been on the floor, any of those bullets streaming through the windows could’ve got him. One tore straight through the neck of the last man who’d jumped across, and he fell to the floor as fast as the others could drop.

  “Leave him,” the cadet shouted when Taylor reached out. He was already crawling forward on his elbows and knees. Considering how soon the neck wound would turn fatal, hanging around in the line of fire wasn’t likely to improve the situation for anybody. There was no telling where the Wozniak troops were firing from, except that their shots appeared to be ricocheting off the ceiling, suggesting that they were closer to ground level.

  Shots continued intermittently as Taylor turned away from the fallen man and crawled across the floor with the others. They regrouped at a stairwell at the far end of the building, got to their feet, and descended one floor. When Taylor started for the second flight, the cadet stopped him.

  “No, they’ll be coming from that way. Not yet,” he said, instead gesturing them over to a window facing west away from where the shots were coming from. Amid all of the noise, smashing the window was practically unnoticeable, but the two-story drop with nothing below to break the fall wasn’t likely to be quickly forgotten.

  The sound of gunfire died and in its place came footsteps from below. There was a good chance they could take the first wave of opponents, but getting stuck in a fight here wasn’t part of the cadet’s plan. He grabbed Taylor, who didn’t expect to be shoved toward the window. They were going to have to make the jump, and Taylor was going to be first again.

  “Head right as quickly as you can to that alley,” the cadet said. An instant later he was falling through the air. The sting of the impact rattled Taylor when he landed, but he fought through it and rushed across the street with the three others close behind. The alley wasn’t more than a few feet wide, and clotheslines with drying blankets provided plenty of cover. For the first time since they were shot at, Taylor felt like he could take a real breath.

  They’d made it across the line and had a chance to take the Wozniaks from behind, but Taylor still kept his eyes peeled for any signs of the shack where his brother might be hiding. The surrounding structures seemed a lot more like warehouses than the previous office buildings, but it was hard to know for sure.

  More than once the group had to stop and duck down when one of the Wozniak armored vehicles or a group of soldiers rushed by. There wasn’t much of the alley left in front of them, and when they came to the end they saw the crusher high overhead. Every once in a while it would connect with another building, resulting in a loud crash smacking their ears. Nothing the Guard had could stop it, and soon enough it would clear a path straight through to the center of the city.

  “Which way now?” one of the men asked the cadet, who pointed toward the northeast. “But that would put us right in its path!”

  “Where do you think we’re going? If somebody doesn’t stop that thing it’ll bulldoze the entire city. I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to tell Captain Keran that I found a way to stop it in its tracks,” he said.

  Without another word, the cadet took the lead, pushing out into the street as a flurry of gunfire erupted to the east. It kept any nearby Wozniaks occupied while Taylor and the others snuck along the side of buildings closer to their enemy’s flagship.

  “What’s your take?” the cadet asked the guard with the gun as they came to the side of a building that gave them a clear view of their target.

  “We have to find a way to get onto the vehicle that is higher than those studded treads. There are a number of cross bars we could use to climb up to the cabin.”

  “It looks like we need to find a roof to get onto that’ll put us in position,” the cadet said.

  “That looks like a good one. It has an antenna up there we might be able to use,” Taylor said.

  “We don’t have much time to get there before they pass it,” the cadet added.

  They broke from the corner and raced toward an open back door to the building Taylor had found, but they weren’t halfway there before calls from someone nearby alerted them that they’d been seen.

  “Keep going,” the cadet said, and they ignored the shouts of alarm, pushed through into the warehouse, and started looking for a way to the roof. It was an expansive place with a number of bulky crates. It took a moment to scan the walls until they found a rusty ladder fixed to a wall that led up to a hatch in the ceiling. They hurried over, climbed up, and stood on the open roof in awe of the unobstructed monstrosity that was coming virtually right at them.

  A clinking sound got Taylor’s attention, and he glanced back to see the cadet sabotaging the ladder with his baton, sending it crashing to the floor. The guy was obviously smart, ambitious, and fiercely supportive of the Guard.

  Stepping farther onto the long roof near the antenna, the cadet raised his hand and appeared to be taunting the incoming vehicle.

  “Look, it’ll come through right here. If we time it right, we can climb on the antenna and leap onto the cross beams.”

  The cadet said it with all of the confidence in the world, but there was no way to tell what would happen when those treads smashed through half of the building. Even if the entire roof didn’t collapse, it was anybody’s guess what the antenna would do. The crusher wasn’t more than fifty feet away, and the cadet ordered everyone into position.

  “You’re not backing down now, are you?” the cadet asked Taylor, who kept a straight
face as he began to climb the thin aluminum poles. The other three followed close behind him as the crusher demolished the rear wall of the next building. It would sweep through any second. The giant treads seemed to grind through anything.

  “Here it comes!” Taylor shouted as the tread tore through the wall and roof, making the antenna shake. It began to bend, making Taylor worried that it would tip over and deposit them right in the vehicle’s path.

  “We’re too heavy!” the cadet shouted from below Taylor. The antenna was almost horizontal and seemed likely to snap at any moment. “The real Guard members can take it from here, Bracken.”

  Taylor jerked his head and gawked behind him as he felt the cadet’s hand clasp the fold on his uniform’s lower back. He clenched his hands and legs just as he felt the cadet attempt to pull him off. The crusher was right in front of them, its grinding treads waiting below to tear him to pieces. Taylor attempted to knock him away with an errant slap, but it wasn’t enough to free him from the cadet’s grip.

  “Get off me,” Taylor said, squirming. He took another glance at the crusher’s undercarriage. If he didn’t make the jump to a sturdy crossbeam soon, he’d be stuck on the antenna as it bent further toward snapping.

  Out of sheer desperation, Taylor took one foot off of the thin antenna and used his heel to slam the cadet’s neck, forcing his grip to weaken. The sudden shift made the shaking antenna wobble. Taylor kicked off with his other leg, leaping for the passing crossbeam just as the antenna broke. The cadet’s fingers grazed Taylor’s leg until the crossbeam was in reach and the Guard members on the antenna started to fall.

  Catching that long steel rail, studded with bolts from end to end, Taylor twisted and watched the Guard members fall one by one on the tread and vanish down a small gap. The cadet gritted his teeth and extended his neck so hard it seemed like it would pop off before the treads pulled him underneath.

  Another crash resounded as the crusher broke through another wall, reminding Taylor of his precarious situation. He climbed onto the crossbeam and shimmied along it to the end where a thick, slanted bar connected the treads below to the cabin above. The bar had a “v” shape Taylor could crawl into and gain protection from two sides. The spot also allowed Taylor to glance back at the path of destruction in their wake and the north end of the city. Randall was likely still hidden somewhere in the city.