Exodus: Empires at War: Book 05 - Ranger

by Doug Dandridge

  She looked up at him, her expression showing her fear that he might leave her.

  “There was another of those clearings three hundred meters back,” he told the child, glancing back the way they had come.

  She nodded, and he led the way back, looking at the jungle around him, making sure nothing was coming at them from the side. They reached the clearing with no problem, and then came the next problem.

  “Look, they’re probably tracking you, and if we go around this area so will they.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I’m going to throw you across the clearing into the bushes on the other side. They’re not dangerous, are they?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Can you get me across there?”

  “I’m sure I can,” he said, picking up the child and taking a step back. He ran forward two steps and hurled her overhead, aiming straight for the bushes that were the surface manifestation of the carnivorous plant. She flew over the hidden pit, and Cornelius was relieved to see that she didn’t scream. He stepped back himself five paces and ran forward, jumping as he reached the edge of the pit. For a moment he wasn’t sure he was going to make it, forgetting the heavy gravity he was dealing with, as well as the extra weight of the rocket launcher. He came down right at the edge of the covered pit, his feet striking hard ground, and he fell forward and into the bushes.

  “Let’s move,” he told Rebecca, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the bushes that did nothing to impede them, just as she had said.

  He lowered himself behind the bushes, looking through a small gap that gave him a firing lane to the other side of the pit. Rebecca lay down beside him, and he took aim with his rifle, waiting. He didn’t have to wait long, as three long lean shapes came loping out of the jungle, their noses to the ground, nostrils working.

  The creatures were hard to mistake for anything but Hunters, with their survival suits covering their bodies with the exception of heads and paws. One was a solid black color where his fur showed, the other two were orange striped. They stopped for a moment and sniffed the ground, looking across the clearing to the bushes where the humans sheltered.

  Come on you bastards, he thought, wondering why they were hesitating. Have you run into this thing before? He thought that might be possible, though he hadn’t seen or heard of them in his unit’s normal area of operations.

  Finally the three creatures started forward at a lope. The first two were over the pit when it collapsed inward. The two Hunters yelped like dogs and fell into the pit, while the third tottered for a moment before jumping back. The two that went into the pit fell onto the spikes, which failed to penetrate the tough armor of their survival suits. Unfortunately for one of them a spike had penetrated its head, killing it instantly. Or maybe the other one was the least fortunate. Spikes were through two of its feet, and it lay there in pain as a pair of mobile branches poked through its head, one into the mouth, the other puncturing an eye. Either way, it was dead, but its ending was much more agonizing.

  The third Hunter stood in place and stared down into the trap. Cornelius couldn’t read the body language of the creatures, but he thought it must be shocked. He put a bullet through its head and ended all feelings forever.

  “Come on,” he told Rebecca, working his way around the pit until he came to the one he shot. He kicked it forward a couple of times until it rolled into the pit, then grabbed the ground covering that had the creature’s blood on it and threw it in after the body. If they were found it would look like they all three fell into the pit and died from the action of the planet’s wildlife. At least until a forensic exam showed the cause of death for the third Hunter.

  Moments later they were on their way again, walking until darkness again threatened. Again Rebecca found a safe tree, and again they climbed up and spent the night.

  The next day was fairly uneventful, with no more run ins with the Hunters. Cornelius hadn’t thought they could be too thick on the ground, not with so much jungle to cover. He had been worried that any that might have discovered the bodies, if they did, would be able to track them through the jungle from his charge’s scent. The heavy afternoon rain ended that fear, as nothing could have tracked through that kind of cleansing downpour.

  The next day they were on their way again, and from the top of a hill at midday the snow capped mountains were visible. Cornelius stood there looking at those mountains, zooming in with his vision and seeing the Slash that the child had told him about. It did look pretty much unclimbable. If he had a complete climbing kit, including scores of pitons and several hundred meters of rope, he might have thought about trying it. Even better would have been to have some climbing buddies. As it was, it looked like a killing field for a single Ranger.

  He swept his vision north and picked up the top of the switchback road that climbed to the heights. He wondered why that road had even been installed, and figured it was not anything official, the reason why it wasn’t on his map. In this day of aircars there really didn’t seem to be a purpose behind that high road, unless it was some private landholders attempt at a scenic route, or maybe something for recreational ground vehicles.

  “We should be there by tomorrow evening,” said the child, and the Sergeant nodded. Three more days, four at most, and those damned Cacas will be eating a nuclear desert for after dinner.

  With that thought he led her down from the hilltop, then let her lead the way through the jungle, hoping to make another couple of kilometers before night shut them down.

  * * *

  Major Goldman cruised over the mountain range, looking down at the high road on the ridgeline. He had taken the aircar out every day for the last week, risking detection while hoping to spot his little girl from the air. For all he knew her bones were scattered along the floor of the jungle at the base of the mountains. He didn’t want to face that possibility. And he couldn’t just wait in the refuge for her to come back. So he was out again in the heavy rain, hoping to use it for cover against detection. At the same time it was hurting his chances of spotting anything.

  Tomorrow I’ll take her up in the clear, he thought. While tripling his chances of being discovered and shot down, it would also double his chances of spotting anything on the ground. As long as she isn’t under that jungle canopy. If she is, I won’t be able to find her no matter what.

  As the sun started to sink over the mountains and the rain started to slack off he turned back for the refuge. And with the sun going down so went his falling hopes for finding his daughter.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win. Sun Tzu.

  AZURE. MAY 28TH- 29th, 1001.

  “That looks doable,” said Cornelius.

  Rebecca nodded, looking up at the gravel road that started in the jungle and ran through the vegetation up to the bare rock of the mountain. It looked like it had been well maintained at one time. Now there were weeds, including small trees, growing up through the gravel covering. There was a small cabin a couple of kilometers in from the edge of the jungle, right next to the beginning of the road. It was made of modern materials, plasticrete and hardened alloys, made to resemble log construction. Such construction could sit here in the jungle for thousands of years without showing much weathering effect. Plants trying to penetrate the walls with root or branch would bounce off of the impenetrable structure.

  “I think we should see what is in the cabin,” said Rebecca, her stomach rumbling. She had eaten enough calories the last couple of days, though some of it consisted of the pure sugar of the red berries they had found along the way. And the rations were high calorie as well. But there was a difference between eating enough calories and filling the stomach, and hers had shrunken in recent weeks, an uncomfortable feeling to be sure.

  “Let me check it out first,” said the Ranger, motioning for her to stay put. He walked to the door and looked over the touchpad th
at controlled the lock. He attempted a couple of combinations, to no avail. With a frustrated look on his face he stepped back and raised his rifle.

  “Wait,” said Rebecca, stepping forward and waving the Ranger back. She walked up to the touch pad, her mind searching for the emergency codes that Ted had given her, in case she ever came across one of his hidden cabins. She couldn’t be sure this was one of those, but he had seemed well versed about the road that led up from here, so she thought there was a very good chance. She punched in one code, and a red light blinked on the top of the pad. Two more, she thought as she picked out the next code. If she entered three without success the pad would lock down until an hour passed. The pad would know that another operator was working on it through her DNA, so would not count the Ranger’s attempts as hers. Which one would Ted have used, she thought as the pad blinked red again. He gave her eight different codes, the ones he used for the dozen cabins he had scattered through the wilderness.

  She punched in the last code, holding her breath as her fingers moved across the plastisteel pad. She hit the last numeric key, and the pad light turned green, just before the lock clicked open. She let out the breath and smiled at the Ranger. “Cake,” was all she said as she started to push the door open.

  “Hold on,” said the Sergeant, holding her back, then pushing the door open with the barrel of his rifle. She looked over his shoulder at the one room cabin whose lights were coming on now that guests had arrived. He took his time looking over the room, then walked in to get a better look, finally turning around and motioning the child to follow.

  The cabin was a single five by five meter room, with some comfortable looking furniture clustered in a ring around a faux brick fireplace. A small kitchen was built into the wall opposite the fireplace, one corner had a standing fabric screen that sealed off what must have been the sanitary facilities. A couple of windows were revealed as their coverings retracted. The windows themselves were obviously not glass, but transparent plastisteel, pretty much impervious to any natural threat themselves without the coverings.

  Rebecca immediately moved to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets. It was full, and she felt a sense of satisfaction that here was weeks’ worth of rations for humans. Next she opened the food fresher and was delighted to find it filled with meats and vegetables. “We eat good tonight,” she said, looking back at the Sergeant with a smile.

  “I would like to keep going,” said the Ranger.

  Rebecca frowned, and the Ranger’s expression changed. “OK, you got me here much faster than I could have on my own, so I guess one night won’t hurt. But can you close those window coverings? It’s going to get dark in a couple of hours, and I really don’t want to advertise our presence.”

  Rebecca nodded and walked to the control pad by the door. A touch of a couple of buttons and the coverings lowered themselves over the windows. After that she got to work in the kitchenette, putting together the best meal she could from the plentiful offerings.

  “I wonder what happened to the people who own this place?” asked the Ranger while they sat down to steaks, potatoes, and steaming vegetables.

  Rebecca chewed and swallowed the piece of steak she had been working on before she answered. It was good natural beef, not vat formed protein, and must have cost Ted a pretty Imperial. “I’m pretty sure that Ted owned this place. It was one of the codes he gave me that opened the door. And I’m hoping that he’s still roaming the jungle striking at the Cacas.”

  The Ranger nodded, scooping some vegetables into his mouth. “I would like to meet this guy someday.”

  “I hope you can,” said Rebecca. That would mean he was still alive.

  After dinner, when both sat in front of the gas fireplace with satisfied expressions on their faces as their bellies were filled for the first time in many days, in Rebecca’s case for over a week, the Ranger pulled out his map and again went over the route.

  “I think we can get up on that ridge by late morning, then maybe to the climb down point by nightfall,” said the Ranger.

  “And then?”

  “I’m thinking of a night descent. It would make me harder to spot from the grasslands. At least I hope it would, though they still might pick me up on scanners. But not with their Mark I eyeballs.”

  In some ways the man talked like Ted, and she was comforted by that similarity. Unlike the deserters she had run into before she felt that this man would do nothing to hurt her. She was also sure that he would let nothing short of death deter him from completing his mission, whatever that was. That it entailed the destruction of the enemy ground HQ she was sure. How, she wasn’t sure, when all he had was that low tech rocket launcher and one round.

  After plotting out the next day he walked around the cabin, looking closely at the walls. Rebecca was sure he was looking for something. What, she wasn’t sure. After completing a slow walk of the walls he motioned for her to get up from the couch and go to the kitchen. He started pushing the couch to the wall, then pulled up the throw rug that covered that part of the floor.

  “What are you looking for?” she finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

  “On Sestius a lot of the people had places in their houses where they hid things. Survival equipment, weapons, you name it. Just in case something happened.”

  “Did you?”

  “We had both a hidden closet and a basement that was like a small fort. It kept my wife alive when the aliens threw a warhead at a nearby mobile shore gun. I almost wish we had stayed in it.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because the Cacas were methodically digging everyone out as they went. She still would have been killed, and I would have joined her. And my son.”

  “Did your son make it?” asked Rebecca, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “Junior is just fine. Katlyn gave birth while we were on the run, just before the Cacas got her. Hello.” He knelt and put a hand on the floor, a section that looked no different than the rest of the wooden covering. He tapped it with his hand, then put his fingers on some depressions. Nothing happened. “What was the code you used to get in here?”

  Rebecca told him, and Cornelius pushed the depressions in a sequence. With a hissing sound a half meter square section of floor raised up and swung away, revealing an opening leading down into the dark. A moment later the room below lit up.

  “Wait here a moment,” said the Ranger, lowering himself into the opening feet first, then climbing down. “My God,” the man said before his feet reached bottom.

  “What is it?”

  “Come on down,” he said, and Rebecca moved to the opening and down into the basement room that was slightly smaller than the cabin above it.

  In some ways the basement was another living area, with a couch and kitchenette, obviously made to be a final refuge for whoever was staying at the cabin. But that was not all it was. It was also an arsenal, with racked weapons along one wall and cabinets that probably contained ammunition and power packs.

  “I carried one of those, before I lost it in the underground river,” said Rebecca, walking over and pulling a particle beam pistol from the rack. She saw that the battery and proton packs were missing, and started to open the cabinets, looking for what she needed to arm the weapon.

  “Can you use it?”

  “I believe I can,” she said, turning a glare toward him. “I killed four humans, at least one of the Hunters and a Caca, as well as a dozen or so animals and plantimals. So yes, I think I’m qualified.”

  “Didn’t mean to offend you,” said the Ranger, holding his hands out. “It’s just that a pistol like this is deadly, to the operator as well as the target, if you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s yours.”

  Rebecca smiled and turned back to look in the drawer she had opened. Not finding what she was looking for she went to the next drawer, another smile crossing her face as she saw it filled with matrix batteries and proton packs that were made for this pistol. She opened the pis
tol and inserted the proton pack, then closed it smoothly. She pushed the matrix battery into the grip, then checked the power setting.

  “Just be careful where you point that,” said Walborski, looking at the weapon with a concerned eye.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t point it at anything I don’t intend to destroy.”

  The Ranger nodded, his expression still anything but happy, then turned his attention back to the weapons’ rack. He picked up a large rifle and his frown turned upside down to a smile. “This is interesting,” he said, turning the weapon over in his hands.

  “What is it?” asked Rebecca, getting a good look at the weapon, which reminded her of the pistol she now carried in a very superficial way.

  “It’s a modified particle beam rifle. Looks like whoever modified it knew what they were doing. Larger proton pack, larger battery, more robust accelerator.” He turned the weapon over in his hands with a loving touch.

  “Why don’t you guys carry something like that?” she asked, thinking of the chemically powered rifle she had seen him use.

  “We try not to give off any kind of electronic signature that can be tracked. That’s why we don’t carry communications devices, except for the one the com man carries in each platoon, which is shielded and off when not in use. A bunch of these things powered up would be picked up for tens of kilometers.”

  “Then how are you going to get away using that thing now?”

  “Because I’ll have it off until I need it, and when I need it the other guys are going to know I’m there anyway.”

  The Ranger went through the other drawers, pulling out spare battery packs and a couple of proton stores, then called out in excitement as he opened another cabinet. He reached in and pulled out an oblong object that Rebecca recognized as a grenade. “I’ll just take a dozen of these boys along with us,” he said, putting one into a cloth bag he pulled from the same cabinet. He followed that with eleven more of the weapons, then slung the bag over his shoulder.