The Awakened World Boxed Set

by William Stacey

  She locked her gaze on his. "If you want a permanent home, you need to fight for it. Nobody is gonna give it to you."

  "Angie," said Sandman softly. "It isn't about courage. We're not afraid to fight. We just don't have enough weapons, and there’s hardly any ammo. There's so little left in the cities now. We can't fight guns and helicopters with spears."

  "You don’t need to worry about helicopters, not anymore. They’re all destroyed now."

  "Saw one the other night," said Earl simply.

  "That’s not possible."

  Earl shrugged, but Angie let it go. "I can get you all the guns and bullets you could ever want, as well as a new home, someplace you can put down roots."

  "Where?" Earl demanded.

  She pointed behind him, to the rising peak of Mount Laguna. "Everything you need to start over: guns, ammo, medicine, food. And no one's even using it."

  Earl's mouth opened, and the elders looked to one another. Earl climbed to his feet and approached Angie. "What of our people? The ones what the southerners took? They have so many of our people prisoner in their camps."

  Angie placed a hand on the old man's shoulder. "You get me to Mount Laguna, and I’ll get you the guns you need to get them back. I promise."

  Long moments passed. Finally, Earl spat into his palm and held it out for Angie. "You might be a heel, ain't sure yet, but you sure ’nuff are a pretty lil’ thing for a wallie. Reckon we can take a chance."

  She spat into her own palm and took his hand, finding it surprisingly firm.

  Chapter 38

  Erin was in the bunker's hangar with Casey, working on the UH-60 Blackhawk's damned troublesome coupling for the damned troublesome rear rotors, when the two-toned alarm sounded. Brother and sister froze, their gazes snapping to one another. Grease streaked Casey's face, running into his bushy red beard. His sub-gun was close at hand, as was hers. Despite the protection afforded by Tec's bunker, Rowan insisted they never be more than a step away from a firearm.

  "Who's on perimeter watch?" Casey asked as he picked up both sub-guns and handed one to her.

  "Jay."

  "Azzie patrol, maybe?"

  "Don't know. Jay wouldn't have hit the alarm if it wasn't something big."

  In the weeks they had been here, they had yet to see a single soul but knew the Aztalan military was out there, rounding up captives. No one else knew of the secret bunker’s existence but Tavi, and while she might have told someone since flying to Sanwa City, it was unlikely the Norties would risk coming back here, especially with the Aztalan military in the way. There might have been a warehouse of weapons and ammo in this bunker but none of it was any use to the dead.

  Casey sighed, glancing at the helicopter they had been working on. "It was a nice enough dream, if only for a bit. Well, if the Azzies have finally found us, they're gonna wish they hadn't."

  "Beat feet," she said before bolting out of the hangar.

  Casey followed, more than content to let her make the calls. He and Jay were doing that more and more these days, waiting for her to decide. They must have picked up on Rowan’s not-so-subtle grooming. Rowan had been right; Casey might have been older, but he wasn’t interested in being in charge.

  As they sprinted through the bunker, climbing up stairs and running past storerooms, she prayed Casey was right about the Azzies. Rowan had supervised a hardening of the bunker's defenses. They had found a command post within the bunker in which Tec had installed video displays from the many cameras and other electronic surveillance gear he had hidden around the bunker's perimeter. The Seagraves had added a lethal aspect to the surveillance. Now there were dozens of Claymore directional mines set in the woods on either side of the twisting mountain road that led to the old USAF ruins. They could detonate each of them, or all of them, within a hundred-meter stretch of the road.

  If the Azzies were desperate enough to keep coming, they’d find that the Seagraves had hauled the wreckage about in the ruins, creating natural-appearing gaps that actually funneled attackers into kill zones. Erin and her brothers had buried explosive charges anywhere that looked appealing to someone trying to find cover. If any attackers survived the explosive carnage, the Seagraves had positioned a pair of heavy machine guns just beside the bunker's hidden entrance. The guns had a commanding field of fire over open ground and would chew up bad guys.

  If the attackers managed to force their way to the guns, the Seagraves would bolt back inside the bunker, lock the entrance, and wait. There was no amount of explosive that could get through the vault-like doors ... probably. But there remained other contingencies. She and the others had combed through every corner of the bunker, finding three more hidden vault doors, all closed and locked but easy enough to open from within.

  And then there was the vehicle hangar with its large entrance that came out within the ruins of a warehouse. The vehicle doors were closed, but they could be opened in moments, and then the Seagraves could drive out in one of the remaining three armored vehicles, using the remote turret-mounted machine gun and grenade launcher to either mop up or escape.

  No, attacking this place was a bad idea. Eventually, someone would get in, but not before she and her family had destroyed the place. All that ammunition would make a hell of a fire, and there was no way they were leaving anything for the Azzies.

  They’ll pry this bunker from our cold, dead fingers.

  She and Casey burst into the command post to find Jay and Rowan staring at one of the television monitors, the one with the camera over the mountain road. Coffee, real honest-to-god coffee, sat in a pot on a table against the concrete wall. The smell of the fresh brew was every bit as wonderful now as it had been the first few dozen times that someone had made a pot. Even in the Home Guard’s bunker, there had only been coffee on special occasions. This place literally had everything.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "Azzies?" Casey asked, a trace of eagerness in his voice. "Let's light those fuckers up."

  "Not Azzies," Rowan said. He looked over his shoulder and met Erin's eyes. His expression was unreadable, which usually meant something bothered him. "Come tell me what you think."

  She wedged between Rowan and Jay, peering at the camera feed. There must have been hundreds of troops moving up the twisting mountain road, coming for the bunker. No, not troops, she realized a moment later, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Those are..."

  "Ferals," Jay answered. "The cannibals are coming to dinner." Jay gripped the clacker, the main switch to which all the roadside Claymores had been slaved. He could detonate all of them with a single button.

  "There's women and children," she said as she took the clacker from his hands.

  "God damn," Jay whispered, leaning forward. His face twisted into a knot of confusion, and he jabbed a finger at the screen. "What the fuck is that, a lion?"

  Erin stared at the screen. Walking in front of the Ferals was a massive beast with the head of an eagle, wings, and the body of a lion. "It's a griffin," she whispered; it could only be the mythical creature. In her lifetime, she had learned she and her brothers were werewolves, dragons and Fey were real, and magic was a thing. Why not a griffin? A single person, a small woman with long dark hair, walked alongside the griffin, using what looked like a giant spear as a walking stick. She wore a sword thrust through her belt.

  Erin gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

  "What?" Rowan asked, squinting at the monitor.

  She carefully set the clacker down, happiness blossoming through her. "Stand down," she whispered, nearly breathless with excitement.

  "It's ... they're not enemies?" Casey asked in disappointment.

  She sobbed in joy, shaking her head. "No. It's Angie."

  Angie led the We Clan through the broken gates of the old USAF site, the dangling sign proclaiming THE MOUNT LAGUNA JOINT SURVEILLANCE SYSTEM. She saw right away that the rubble had been moved since she had last been here, and her concern spiked. She held her hand out, stopping the long p
rocession behind her. Moonwing's head darted about, his golden eyes scanning the surroundings.

  "What is it?" Sandman asked. Miss Fortune stood at his side, with Silver Katana just a few feet away.

  "Something's wrong." Angie gripped Lodin's spear tightly.

  DANGER, the Shade King warned. She saw flashes of sparks rise into the air from the trees on either side of the road, as well as from among the rubble farther inside the ruins.

  Angie peered into the bushes and trees along which they walked. There—carefully hidden away and only visible now because of the Shade King's magic—was an M18 Claymore antipersonnel mine. We're already in a kill zone, she realized in horror.

  "Angie!" a female voice yelled from up ahead.

  Angie knew that voice. Her fear vanished, replaced by unexpected joy. A moment later, Erin Seagrave, her long red hair streaming behind her, appeared from the rubble ahead of them, running toward Angie, her teeth flashing in a wide smile. Her brothers followed her: Casey, Jay, and Rowan. Angie stared in disbelief. They're still here? She had been convinced they had moved north weeks ago to find a new home. She had never dared hope—

  Moonwing raised his head, squawking with menace. Angie rushed in front of the beast, placing her hand on his chest. "Friends. They're friends." Moonwing’s posture remained only slightly less threatening. She turned and faced the We Clan, yelling so they could hear. "They're friends. It's okay." She turned about and rushed forward, dropping the spear to embrace Erin, who almost knocked her over when she ran into her.

  It took several moments before either woman could speak, their eyes glistening with tears. "You didn't go north," Angie finally managed, holding Erin by the arms, certain she wore a goofy grin on her face.

  Erin, beautiful and radiant as a wildflower, smiled back. "And you didn't die."

  "You told me not to, remember?"

  "I also told you to come here after three days." Erin's smile slipped. "You never came."

  "No," Angie said sadly, "I couldn’t … the Aztalans attacked Coronado."

  Erin must have heard the anguish in Angie's voice because she hugged her once more, near crushing her this time. "Tec?" she whispered into Angie's ear.

  "Alive, I think, but Queen Elenaril is dead. The elves have fled Coronado. The Aztalan army has attacked Sanwa City."

  "Where’s Tavi?" Jay asked in alarm. "If she’s still in Sanwa City…"

  Rowan placed a hand on Jay’s shoulder, his gaze taking in the griffin and throngs of clansmen and -women. "You've some new friends, Angie. What's going on?"

  "I'm glad you're here, Rowan. I need a fighting man, someone who understands tactics. We have a lot to discuss. I'm going back to Sanwa City."

  Rowan and Erin watched her in silence for long moments. Finally, Erin slipped an arm around Angie's back. "We're going back to Sanwa City."

  "God damned right we are," Jay said.

  Angie's throat tightened with gratitude.

  Rowan sighed. "I did tell you to start making more decisions." He used his thumb and forefinger to smooth the ends of his mustache, his gaze taking in the long line of men, women, and children, the entire We Clan. "Guess we're gonna need to make more coffee."

  "Hey, Angie," Jay said as he stared wide-eyed at Moonwing. "When'd you get a cat … bird ... dog … thing?"

  Before she could answer, Casey swept her up in his arms, lifting her feet off the ground as he hugged her and swung her about like a doll.

  She thought her heart would burst with joy.

  The main assault on the city began at dusk.

  It came as a surprise to no one. Tec and the others couldn't miss the preparations. The Aztalans tried to cover the massing of their troops with smoke but only confirmed where the enemy would focus their attacks. Whistle blasts echoed in the night, accompanied by the yelling of Aztalan officers and noncommissioned officers as they tried to organize their men. Under Wyn Renna's leadership, the fighting positions along the wall had been reinforced with sandbags, providing some protection from the snipers. Most of the city's residents were in communal shelters.

  Tec and Wyn Renna accompanied a procession led by Duncan Marshal and Monique Carter along the walls, encouraging the soldiers with their presence. Tec stood next to Wyn Renna, watching the enemy preparations. Tavi was nearby, always close to Wyn Renna. At some point, she had not only gotten past her anger at the elf woman but had also decided she was Wyn Renna's unofficial shadow, her bodyguard.

  Tec, watching the enemy muster, thought his heart might break with the futility of it all. He was no longer worried about a lack of water, not with the size of the assaulting forces preparing to come at them. For whatever reason, instead of waiting for the city’s inevitable surrender, the dragon and her Tzitzime servants had decided to storm it. Hundreds, maybe thousands of Aztalan soldiers would die before they took the city, but it wouldn’t stop them. They simply didn’t have enough bullets to kill them all.

  Not for the first time, he wished he had a tenth of the stockpile he had stored away in his bunker, but all that ammunition might as well have been on the moon. He sighed heavily. "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men," he whispered.

  "What’s that?" Wyn Renna asked without turning her head.

  His thoughts soured. "Wyn ... Constance ... when they come, when they breach the walls, you can't let them take you." He stared into her face, watching her angular profile, her large nose. Her face wasn’t truly her face, but she had worn it for so long that maybe even she didn't remember what she had looked like as an elf.

  Her fingers brushed the bulky load-bearing vest she wore over her combat uniform. "They won't, old friend," she whispered. "Not a drop."

  A bright-red flare rose into the night. With a furious cheer, the Aztalans stormed forward, rushing through the smoke, attacking from the south and east.

  "Stand ready!" Wyn Renna yelled. She turned to face Marshal and Carter. "Get off my wall. The last thing I need is either of you dead."

  Both leaders hurried away, rushed to safety by their bodyguards. Tavi slipped closer to Wyn Renna, her hand on the hilt of her saber.

  "Call it," Wyn Renna said.

  She knew Tec had been in similar situations before, although never this dire. He waited until the mass of the enemy hit the first markers, some two hundred meters away. "Fire!" he yelled.

  As one, the defenders opened fire, a long, continuous roar of gunfire that ripped through the attackers, sending them reeling. On the far flanks, heavy machine guns opened fire, beating the ground with lead and tracers, creating hell on earth for the Aztalans. So far, the war had gone well for the Aztalan army, with the Norteno military putting up only the briefest resistance. Now the defenders fought not only for their lives but for the lives of their loved ones. There'd be no mercy, no quarter, and the Aztalans were just now learning how steep was the price in blood they’d have to pay.

  The attack faltered, and men soon broke and fled to the rear, running back into the smoke. Hundreds of corpses lay scattered beneath the walls, the ground wet with blood. Tracers had started fires in the dry grass. The defenders could do this again and again ... until the ammunition ran dry.

  The fighting continued along the eastern wall. "You stay here," Wyn Renna said. "Make them bleed."

  "I'm sorry it's come to this. Sorry for your mother, your people."

  "We're all sorry. Die well, Jaguar Knight." And with that, she hurried away, Tavi only steps behind her.

  Chapter 39

  Angie stood at the edge of the Black Pool, a lit flare in her hand illuminating the dark waters and blackened bones of thousands of animals. The lake extended before her, much farther than the light of her flare could reach, broken only by the fingers of stalagmites thrusting out of its depths.

  Erin, standing behind her, cleared her throat. Erin carried a sub-gun slung over her shoulder, but Angie had left all her weapons, including Nightfall and Lodin's spear, in the bunker above.

  "What are we doing here, Angie?" Erin shivered, rubbing her
upper arms. She wore combat pants, boots, and a T-shirt. Angie wore the same, but with the ankles rolled up. The smallest of the combat uniforms she could find among Tec's stash were still too large for her. She had even had to punch a new hole in the belt.

  "Not sure yet."

  Sandman and the elders had been brought inside the bunker, and Angie had made introductions, explaining she had promised them the supplies—as well as the bunker and mountaintop as a new home. Rowan and Casey had objected but only briefly and without any real heart; there was no way the Seagraves could keep all this to themselves, and they knew it.

  Besides, when Angie told them of her dream of the fall of Sanwa City, Jay had told his family in no uncertain terms that he was going back for Tavi with or without them. It would be with them, Rowan had said, explaining that it was one thing to strike out into the wilderness when you were a fugitive but an entirely different one to abandon everyone you knew to slaughter. The Seagraves weren't the kind of people to turn their backs on others, no matter how badly those people had treated them. Besides, Rowan had said, a hard edge to his voice, they still owed Rayan Zar Davi for their brother Lewis.

  And just like that, the matter of ownership of the bunker had been settled.

  Angie considered the Black Pool. Why am I dreaming of this place? she asked the Shade King.

  I DO NOT KNOW. YOU ARE LINKED TO THE DRAGON. THIS WAS NEVER DONE IN MY TIME. THERE WERE NO DRAGON-MARKED. YOU ARE AS UNIQUE NOW AS I ONCE WAS, PERHAPS MORE SO.

  She sighed. "Not helpful." She was aware Erin was watching her, wondering who she was talking to. The Shade King's presence had become natural to Angie. It was always there now if she needed it, but it never intruded on her consciousness. You can grow accustomed to anything in time, she realized, even a supernatural passenger. She opened her left hand, trailed her fingers over the fang-shaped scarring on her palm. The mark was cold. She made a fist of her hand and stared out over the water.