by Mike Sheriff
He struck out toward the structures, rifle leveled before him. Laoshi and Odessa trailed him by five paces.
Odessa glanced at Laoshi. “Are we going to meet the . . . what did you call it?”
“An aeroshrike,” Laoshi said. “Yes, we’re going to meet it now.”
“What is it, exactly?”
“A huge vessel that’s lighter than air.”
She cocked her head. “It floats?”
“Yes. You must have been on a similar vessel if you and your parents were on an expedition. A geology aerostat, perhaps.”
She frowned. “I don’t remember.”
“No matter,” he said. “You’ll be on one again in less than an hour.”
They inched toward the southern structures, clearing each domed shaft before passing it. Laoshi wagered they were used for ventilation. None featured access points—they needn’t worry about shocktroops springing up behind them. The primary threat axis lay to the south, among the two structures standing between them and the desert.
They reached the first structure—a rectangular block spanning fifty feet on all sides. Like the others in Havoc, it barely topped thirty feet above the surface.
Laoshi left Odessa behind a ventilation shaft while he and Dominus split up and circled the structure. They met on the far side, finding no mongrels hidden in its shadow. Only one pyramidal structure and a handful of domed shafts remained between them and the objective.
“We’re close,” Dominus said, gazing at the desert.
“I’ll go back and get Odessa.”
Laoshi backtracked to the ventilation shaft. Odessa stepped out from behind it. “We’re almost there,” he said. “Another few hundred feet and—”
Savage hisses sliced the air. A cannonade of percussive volleys followed.
Odessa screamed. Laoshi dove forward and dragged her down behind the shaft. He sprang to his feet and aimed his rifle over its domed surface.
Fifty feet away, Dominus returned fire. His rounds streaked toward the pyramidal structure.
Laoshi’s rounds chased his friend’s toward the target.
Dominus broke contact and sprinted over. He threw himself to the ground beside Odessa. Laoshi ducked and joined them.
The mongrels to the south lay down an appalling base of fire. Rounds smacked the opposite side of the shaft—it resonated like a bell.
“The mongrels are awake,” Dominus said. “I saw at least thirty of them.”
Laoshi scanned the area to the north. The breeding farm’s southern terminus lay a few hundred feet away, a single nullglass panel absent. If mongrels came pouring out of the breach, they’d face an assault on two opposing fronts.
Sonic rounds streaked over the shaft. Their crackling shockwaves seemed to mock the ill tactical situation.
“Not to sound melodramatic,” Dominus said, “but if either of you have any petitions for Sha, you might want to offer them sooner than later.”
“You think this is the end for us?” Laoshi asked.
Dominus peered around the shaft. He sighed. “If it isn’t the end, it’s certainly the beginning of the end. My rifle’s down to three percent power.”
Laoshi peeked over the shaft.
At least twenty mongrels huddled beside the pyramidal structure, two hundred feet to the south. One hundred feet beyond them, the desert looked close enough to touch. It may as well have been on the moon.
Odessa squealed and tugged Laoshi’s webbing. “They’re coming out of the breeding farm!”
The statement stabbed Laoshi’s throat like a frozen dagger. He spun to the new threat.
Dozens of mongrels poured through the breach. They advanced, weapons raised.
Laoshi’s chest contracted, squeezing his heart. Dominus was right; it was the beginning of the end. He grasped Odessa’s hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take you home.”
She bowed her head and kissed his fingers. “You tried to help me. That’s more than anyone has done in thirteen years.”
Laoshi cheeks burned. He glanced at Dominus.
Dominus smirked. “Perhaps they’ll commission a sculptglass diorama at the training facility to commemorate our exploits.”
Laoshi released a bitter chucklebuck. “The last thing I want is for my likeness to be frozen in sculptglass for the rest of eternity.”
“Don’t worry,” Dominus said. “If my likeness is beside it, no one will even notice yours.” He extended his hand.
Laoshi grasped it. They shook; one palm up, one palm down.
They released their grip and trained their sonic rifles toward the breeding farm.
The mongrel shocktroops advanced, closing to within one hundred feet. Their numbers had swelled to fifty, perhaps sixty. More than enough to finish off two Jireni and a Slavvic girl.
Laoshi gritted his teeth and hoisted his rifle. He’d take as many of them with him as—
A chain of ear-splitting blasts obliterated the landscape. The world of sand condensed to quivering fog.
Churning shockwaves slammed him backward. His helmet smashed against the domed shaft. His vision went white. . . .
Laoshi’s color vision returned. Tans resolved, mottled with dark patches. He shook his head, ears ringing. How much time had passed before regaining his senses he couldn’t say, but the shocktroops advancing from the breeding farm were gone, replaced by yawning craters.
He blinked, trying to clear his vision. His eyes were obviously playing tricks on his—
Dominus whooped. “It’s the aeroshrike fleet!”
Laoshi twisted to the desert.
A dozen black aeroshrikes blotted the sky a mile to the south, a thousand feet high. Their triple-barrel turrets spit volleys of barometric rounds.
The magnificent sight made his eyes well—for a moment. The fleet had no idea that Jireni were in the line of fire. Commander Nehjal had underscored the need to be beyond Havoc’s border before the aerial attack began. The three of them were as likely to be culled by friendly fire as the mongrels. More likely, in fact.
Another bone-jarring barrage of barometric rounds emphasized the point. They impacted the ground a few hundred feet to the north. Immense plumes of sand showered the area with choking grit.
“We need to clear the border!” Laoshi said.
“I agree!” Dominus said. He peered over the shaft. “The mongrels are advancing from the pyramidal structure. Cover me while I move to the next shaft, then I cover you and—”
Laoshi felt the sonic rounds as much as he heard them. Their concussive contrails caressed his cheek like barbed fingers, eliciting a flinch. In his mind, he knew the rounds had missed him. In his heart, he knew they’d found another mark.
Dominus’ cry bore the hallmarks of shock and agony. He lay on the ground beside his shattered rifle. An entry wound channeled through his right hip. White bone fragments glistened in a pit of red gore.
Laoshi suppressed the urge to throw up, but couldn’t mask his look of revulsion.
“Sha’s silica teeth!” Dominus said, gasping. “Where’s Jiren Tor when you need her?”
Laoshi fumbled to pull a flexglass dressing from a web pouch. He unrolled the material and crammed it into the crater left by the round.
Dominus screamed through his teeth. “If you decide to enter another vocation, take medical practitioner off the list!”
“Shut up for once,” Laoshi said. He raised his sonic rifle and scanned the southern approach through its optical sight.
Two dozen mongrels fanned out, heading east and west. It would take them less than two minutes to flank the position.
“They’re going to flank us,” Dominus said as if reading Laoshi’s mind. “If you stay here, you’ll be cut off.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re going to rendezvous with the aeroshrike.”
“I’m not leaving you here!”
Dominus’ jaw clenched. The veins over his temples bulged like crystalline cables. “Even if I could walk, I’d bleed
to death before I got a mile into the desert.” He held out his hand. “Give me your rifle.”
“Why?”
“So I can use it to cover you.”
“I’m not leaving you here to die!”
“You won’t be. You’ll be returning to Daqin Guojin to tell my little Cordelia how bravely her father fought.”
Laoshi’s throat clamped shut. He snorted back his tears.
“And you’ll be saving Odessa,” Dominus said. “That’s what you’ll be doing.”
The tears flowed down Laoshi’s cheek and pooled in the corner of his lips. Their salty tang cut through the bitter taste of regret. He handed his rifle to Dominus.
Dominus propped himself up and checked the rifle’s power setting. He gazed at Odessa. “She’s even more beautiful in daylight.” He winced and glanced at Laoshi. “If I wasn’t already in union, I might ask for her hand.”
Laoshi put on a brave face. “You could try.”
“If the two of you should enter union and have a boy . . .”
“Name him Dominus?” Odessa asked.
“No,” Dominus said. “Terrible name. Call him Fengsei, after my father. Now there was a brave man.” He leaned around the shaft and scanned the approach. “They’re getting closer. You need to go. Head straight up the middle. I’ll keep them focused on me.”
Laoshi grasped Dominus’ shoulder. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “I am your friend.”
“And I am your friend,” Dominus said. “Remember to—”
Sonic rounds pounded the shaft’s eastern and western surfaces. Shrapnel sprayed the air.
Dominus hoisted the rifle to his shoulder. “They’re flanking us! Go!”
Laoshi snatched Odessa’s hand and pulled her toward the desert. An unbroken cacophony of concussive reports accompanied their flight. They’d made it two hundred feet before Laoshi looked back.
Mongrel shocktroops surrounded the ventilation shaft, spraying it with sonic rounds. Withering counter-fire pulsed from behind the shaft, streaming east and west. Dominus was making his last stand count.
Overhead, a half-dozen screeching contrails tore holes in the sky. . . .
Odessa screamed. Laoshi had a split-second to register the barometric rounds before they impacted the ground. Shimmering bubbles of sonic energy ripped the air apart.
He sensed flowing, tumbling movement. Unlike free-fall, it bore a detached, dreamlike quality. Something solid reached out and battered his limbs, over and over. The movement and battering ceased. . . .
Minutes passed in numbing silence. Laoshi swallowed. Sand scored his windpipe. He coughed and raised his head.
Odessa lay beside him. She raised her head, bloodshot eyes wallowing.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I . . . I think so.”
He sat up. High overhead, the aeroshrike fleet pressed north. Their unceasing volleys obliterated distant structures, posing no immediate threat. He lowered his gaze and took in the immediate area.
Nothing stirred. The structures and ventilation shafts that had dotted the approach to the desert were gone, swept away by the barometric rounds. So were Dominus and the mongrel shocktroops. All that remained were enormous craters.
Laoshi had no time to mourn his friend. He took Odessa’s hand and helped her up. Together, they headed into the desert.
SAND SUCKED AT Laoshi’s feet, sapping his strength. He’d cast off the mongrel bianfu moments after reaching the desert. It had served its purpose and the added weight was the last thing he needed on the journey. He’d also dumped his helmet, body armor, and webbing. All that remained of his Jireni gear was his jump suit and dagger.
Stinging sweat flooded his eyes, making him squint. His parched throat burned slag-hot; his water supply had run out before they’d left the breeding farm. Beside him, Odessa leaned forward as they ascended a massive dune’s angled face. Sweat darkened her fetid cloak, but she hadn’t once complained about their pace.
“Will the air vessel still be there?” she asked, breaking the weary silence.
“I hope so,” Laoshi said between gulps of air.
Inwardly, he had his doubts. They were forty minutes late. While there was always a cushion built into a rendezvous timing, forty minutes likely proved too generous. The aeroshrike risked exposure so close to Havoc’s border. Mongrel gunships could pounce on it within minutes, catching it at its moorings.
If it had already taken off, their odds of survival would be virtually null. To reach Daqin Guojin, they’d face a one hundred-ninety mile trek over the most scorching stretch of desert in the known world. As an added bonus, they’d be pursued by mongrels who’d just witnessed the devastation of their colony.
As he neared the top of the towering dune, his heart sank in tandem with his boots. He might never be able to tell little Cordelia how bravely her father had fought. Dominus’ sacrifice might have been for nothing.
They broached the dune’s crest. Laoshi jolted to a stop. Odessa gasped.
A black-armored aeroshrike floated over the desert, a quarter-mile away. Triple airscrews thrummed on its port and starboard mountings, churning up swirling sand.
“It’s so . . . huge,” she whispered.
The aeroshrike hovered, its thousand-foot gas envelope yawing from side to side. Eight mooring cables ejected from its hull and streaked into the sand. Moments later, a ramp lowered at the stern. Six Jireni descended the ramp and fanned out onto the sand.
Laoshi hoisted his arm and waved, signaling they weren’t a threat. He breathed a sigh of relief when one of the Jiren returned the gesture. He led Odessa across the remaining stretch of desert.
The Jireni escorted them up the ramp and into the aft hold. Laoshi and Odessa collapsed into the seats along the starboard bulkhead. One of the Jiren handed them bottles of water. Laoshi took it with unfettered glee.
“Are you the only member of your team to make it?” the senior Jiren asked.
Laoshi drained the bottle before answering. “Yes, sire.”
“That means you’re the mission’s sole survivor.”
Laoshi gaped at him. “Out of all four teams?”
“Yes. You’re a lucky man. Doubly lucky, in fact. We were about to launch when you crested that dune.”
Doubly lucky.
Laoshi released a whooshing breath. Maybe one day he’d feel it. Maybe one day he’d be able to repay the debt he owed Dominus and the other members of the team. He glanced at Odessa.
She took his hand. A single tear traced her cheek. “Thank you.”
Laoshi couldn’t summon the strength to respond. He’d expended everything to get her to this point.
The aeroshrike’s airscrews whined. The hold quivered with potential energy. A few seconds later, they were airborne and heading south. Toward home.
“I can’t imagine how much Daqin Guojin has changed since I was last there,” Odessa said.
Nor could he. He’d been gone less than twenty-four hours and knew the city-state would never be the same. He couldn’t fathom what her homecoming would feel like.
Odessa rested her head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand. Laoshi squeezed back. Then and there, seated in the quivering hold of the aeroshrike, he closed his eyes and made a solemn vow.
He’d never let it go.
Continue Your Odyssey!
* * *
700 years After the Cycle of Extinctions, a doomed boy and girl hold the key to humanity’s survival. But they must first take the Survival Aptitude Test.
* * *
Only the smartest pass. The rest are harvested.
* * *
Join the thousands of readers who’ve already embarked on The Extinction Odyssey. Check out the bonus chapter (after the Afterword) to sample a taste of the chilling sci-fi series!
Afterword
THANK YOU FOR downloading Survival Aptitude Test: Hope’s Graveyard. If this prequel is your first sampling of my work, I sincerely hope it marks the start of a journ
ey you’ll truly enjoy.
You’ll find links to all my material in the “Also By” section at the end of this ebook. You’ll also encounter a bonus chapter from Survival Aptitude Test: Sound before you get there.
Sound is the first book in The Extinction Odyssey series and takes place roughly 40 years after the events in this prequel. It will transport you to a dying Earth, where blighted deserts smother every continent, acidic waters foul every ocean, and one law reigns supreme: Extinction is the Rule; Survival is the Exception.
Amid the desolation, starving humans teeter at the top of the food chain. In fact, they’re the last remaining link. But a doomed boy and girl may offer a seed of hope. . . .
Check out the bonus chapter that follows for a taste of the dystopia. Keep going and you’ll find my author bio and links to my books. If you like what you see, please help spread the word! As with all my material, this ebook is DRM*-free. Load it onto as many devices as you like and share it with whomever you like. All I ask is you not re-sell it. (Bad karma!)
Anyhow, I’ll get out of the way so you can get on with reading the bonus chapter. When you’re done, I’d love to hear your impressions on Hope’s Graveyard. Drop me a line at [email protected] whenever you have the time. All the best!
* * *
Mike Sheriff
London, Ontario
* * *
* DRM stands for Digital Rights Management. Traditional publishers use it to prevent piracy of their digital works. Call me crazy, but I’d rather not treat my readers like potential criminals.
Bonus Chapter
Survival Aptitude Test: Sound
(Book 1 of The Extinction Odyssey)
Chapter 1
700 A.C.E.
THOUSANDS OF RAWBONED bodies packed the Center’s northern stairway. Thousands more glutted the transway two flights below.
Daoren clenched his jaw and balanced on the landing’s edge atop the second flight. He kept his spine as straight as a sparring staff to minimize the risk of contact with the writhing, murmuring horde. He loathed crowds for one reason.
