Shadows and Anguish (A Cat Among Dragons Book 8)

by Alma Boykin

  “I feel sorry for whoever’s outside,” Ford opined.

  Rada nodded again. “True, but this means fewer between us and our objective.” She didn’t add her next thought, which was “and more for you to fight your way out through.” There wasn’t any need to hurt morale. Grauberg waited until five minutes had elapsed without any more Vreenahlwee trotting past, then signaled for the group to move out. Two men lay Corporal Teskawa’s body off to the side. They’d pick him up on the way out, God willing. Rada crossed herself and said a prayer for his soul as she fell in with the others.

  “Holy shit—incoming!” a voice called, and Joschka dove under the table in the temporary Austrian headquarters. A dull bwoom-BLAM rocked him and the others, and they all held their breath as they waited for another salvo. “We’re under attack! Four armored enemy advancing from the north, three from the west. Repeat—” Joschka didn’t bother listening to the rest of the report. He was up and moving despite cries of “my lord General, wait!” No more waiting, no more running, the HalfDragon snarled as he fastened his helmet strap and grabbed a rifle and ammunition pouch. Part of him screamed at him that he had to take cover so he could continue directing the larger war. But the old battle fury overrode everything else and Joschka let it surge through him, reveling in the heightened sensations and awareness it gave him. The Graf-General charged for the northern edge of the encampment, his bodyguard ten meters behind him and losing ground.

  Joschka could see the four coming in from the north. They’d all landed, and they strode forward, shields up high. Even .50 caliber bullets bounced off the creatures’ shields, but as Joschka and the humans watched, a soldier ran toward the shield and passed under it. He lobbed a grenade up into a gap in the monster’s back and ducked for cover as the explosion shorted the shielding and sent the three-meter suit reeling and staggering. A swishing hiss signaled the launch of a Spike, and Joschka covered his eyes as the blast sent the Vreenahlwee crashing onto its back. Those who had seen what had happened called the discovery to others: fast-moving things were repelled, but slower things—like humans—were not, and the shields didn’t reach the ground. A sergeant ran up with an armful of plate-shaped munitions. “Here. Magnetic explosives,” he explained. Joschka nodded, then dropped to the ground as another Vreenahlwee launched a rocket from a pod mounted in its arm.

  Soon the Austrians had disabled or destroyed all their attackers, though not without serious casualties. The fighting soon came to focus on the Vreenahlwee soldiers who’s “vehicles” had only been damaged. The creatures pushed their way into the laager so the humans couldn’t bring their heavy weapons to bear without killing their own people, and it fell to individuals and small teams to disable and then destroy the battle armor. Joschka snarled, then ducked again, before hurrying over to the last Vreenahlwee standing. It had pushed well into the Austrians’ night camp and seemed to be looking for something. Or someone, Joschka guessed, and lowered his shields, sending I’m the humans’ commander!

  The last Vreenahlwee battle suit held a secret: four unarmored warriors crammed into the chest and head. They sprang out and attacked with blasters and vicious-looking black blades, aiming for Joschka even as the armor continued trampling through the Austrian laager. Joschka found himself face-to-visual-patch with a Vreenahlwee, exchanging shots at close range with the purple tripod. He knocked the thing over by injuring one of its legs, then ran forward. Without thinking he screamed “Drachenburg!” and ripped away the enemy’s blade, reversing it and cutting the creature in half top to bottom. The HalfDragon stabbed the blade into the still-twitching corpse and swung around looking for a new target. But there were none. A brilliant flash marked the demise of the last armored Vreenahlwee.

  “Sir, sir, are you . . . oh fuck,” the lieutenant from his bodyguard fell back, eyes white with fear, as he stared at the Graf-General. The general’s eyes practically glowed an unholy red, and his bared fangs gleamed in the light of several scattered fires from burning equipment and vehicles. He seemed larger than the junior officer remembered, with long black talons instead of normal hands. The young man took several steps backward, wondering what the hell had happened. Joschka von Hohen-Drachenburg turned away for a moment. When he looked back at the Austrian officer he had returned to normal, and the lieutenant decided that it had been a trick of the light and the stress that had made the general seem inhuman.

  Meanwhile, other soldiers were learning just what vicious fighters their comrades could be. Sergeants Lee and Weber agreed later that the strangest part of the fighting had been Rachel’s absolute silence. Whatever else she was, the small woman could kill, and did so without blinking. It was a good thing for her companions that she could, because as the Germans and Brits slogged their way closer to the chamber housing the Vreenahlwee’s hive-mind, the aliens’ resistance stiffened. Despite the chaos, Rada moved steadily, firing on the move and only stopping when someone needed a medic. Through some miracle, only one person had been more than scratched since they’d restarted their advance, and the group leapfrogged smoothly into the depths of the mine. They found one feeder-breeder chamber, and several of the soldiers lost what little they had in their stomachs. “I know. But there’s nothing we can do for them and we’ll be more use if we can destroy the hive-mind than if we try to free them,” Rada pointed out. The Germans, especially Lieutenant Kinsky, protested furiously, and Lee sympathized—these were their people, and he’d probably feel the same way if they were fighting in England. The xenologist appeared to remain unmoved, and Lee wondered about her mental state. “Then stay. Barricade the door before you get involved doing anything, in case some adults come to check on the larvae.” After a short, unhappy discussion, Lieutenant Grauberg, his men, Weber, and most of the others rejoined Rada and the other British Branch soldiers.

  They lost track of time as they fought their way into the heart of the old mine. At last they were able to see a purple-red glow that came from around the next bend in the tunnel. “All right. Time to take stock. What do we have left?” Grauberg asked. A quick check turned up fifteen hand grenades, three shaped charges, something that Lee really should have given back to Rada several months earlier, and Rada’s blast rifle, as well as about thirty rounds of rifle ammunition per person. As they counted, Rada sent her mouse ahead and watched the display on her forearm monitor.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” she muttered in disbelief. “I’ve seen better effects in a B movie!” Lee and the other Brits relaxed at the normalcy of her wiseassery. If she sounded like that, whatever waited for them, while incredibly difficult, must not be impossible. “The hive-mind is behind a standard energy shield. There are some warriors around, but none in armor and not as many as I’d have thought. And I think the grey things are breeder females.” Everyone shuddered a little at that bit of information, including the Wanderer. Then a very serious expression settled over her features. “Even worse, I think this is part of a mining history park, so we’d best not damage anything, because the paperwork will be worse than death,” she joked, tipping her arm to show the others the scene. As they looked, something walked over and they saw a grey blur. Then the screen went black. “Bastard!” she snarled.

  “So much for poor little Yorick,” Johanssen sighed.

  “You knew him well?” Rada inquired with a grin. “Go for the shield power sources first, Lieutenant. They will be outside the actual shield, and once they’re destroyed anything inside will be vulnerable.”

  Grauberg nodded. “That’s what we will do. You are obviously a marksman and have the heaviest personal weapon, Commander. We go first and clear the field of fire and eliminate the shield. Then you kill the hive-mind.”

  To their great surprise, the woman shook her head. “Too dangerous, sir. The hive-mind uses telepathy to control its warriors. This close to the thing, there is a chance that it could force its way through my defenses and try to take over my mind. I’m not willing to risk having me turn on you with this,” she hefted the rifle. “How
ever,” she turned to Weber. “If I reset the sights, will you trade?”

  He nodded. Rada moved, separating the sights and handing her rifle to the German noncom. He passed her his own rifle in turn. “If you break it, you buy it,” he cautioned.

  “I don’t get paid, remember?” she retorted, then turned back to the rest of the gathered men. “No promises as to what happens once we kill the hive-mind. I don’t think the chamber or mine is booby trapped, but . . .” She met everyone’s eyes.

  “I have point,” Grauberg announced. “Commander, you come tail as medic,” and Rada took her place. The German officer gave the signal and the mammals advanced.

  They surged into the hot, red-lit chamber, and Rada almost laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of the scene. The hive-mind closely resembled an enormous wet cauliflower, complete with life-support and energy tubing underneath it like a stalk. Behind it and to the sides, grey, bloated versions of the Vreenahlwee warriors squatted in alcoves, looking rather like ugly pillows. Then the fighting began and her world narrowed to watching the humans’ backs and killing Vreenahlwee. Two of the seven shield power transformers went easily, but the enemy realized what the humans were after and resistance stiffened. Lee grabbed Ford and Johanssen and set up a distraction, attacking the breeder females. That worked a little too well, and Rada turned her attention to protecting them. She ran through all of Weber’s ammunition, then grabbed more from Mackintosh after a purple warrior cut his rifle’s barrel off. “Azdhagia!” she called, bracing herself to pick off another warrior that had been about to jump down onto Grauberg. Then she dropped and rolled as someone did her the same favor. Soon only one shield projector remained.

  Rada ran out of bullets but didn’t blink. She laid aside Weber’s rifle and drew her bahn’leh and sword cane blade, then crept up behind one of the Vreenahlwee who was taking aim at a German. Rada struck silently, stabbing with the sword’s heavy blade. It pierced the creature’s aural opening, and she twisted as black fluid sprayed out of the hole. The Wanderer planted her foot against the thrashing body, then wrenched her weapon free and hurled herself against another opponent. It swung its black blade at her and she ducked and closed, this time going for the visual patch with her shorter knife since she was so near. Blinded, the warrior staggered off toward the spot where Weber had braced himself. Rada tackled the Vreenahlwee, knocking it to the ground, then stabbing up into its torso with her sword. More black blood sprayed out, and Rada reeled back from the stench. Turning, she saw a warrior aiming a blaster at Weber as the hive-mind’s shield collapsed. There wasn’t time to try to reach the creature, so she sprang forward, putting herself between the creature and the sergeant. She felt something slam into her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. Joschka! Rada cried silently. Then she couldn’t think at all as pain ripped through her mind, the force of the creatures’ anguish tearing apart her mental defenses. Rada screamed as the Vreenahlwee hive-mind died. Then came silence.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” Corporal Fischer demanded, lapsing into German in his surprise. The British soldiers coming behind him on the ridge crest didn’t need an interpreter to understand his question—they were thinking the same thing. The two armored Vreenahlwee staggered and suddenly began lashing about in blind confusion, knocking into each other. Below them, dozens of unarmored warriors dashed this way and that, some dropping their weapons, others randomly shooting at anything and nothing. The humans began picking off the Vreenahlwee, in part to protect themselves from the random shots. One set of armor sparked and screamed as the other ripped its head off and hurled the steel assembly to the ground. A Spike to the chest finished the second combatant, and it slammed backwards in a crash and puff of shattered pine boughs.

  “Come on! Let’s get the others while they’re confused,” ben David called, and the GDF and Bundeswehr surged forward. They didn’t know what was going on, but they seized the advantage as best they could.

  Farther east and south, O’Neil and his men watched sparks fly as three of the creatures turned on each other, blasting and grappling in the fog that shrouded the Brocken’s peak. “This way.” He led his group up the snow-covered slope toward their objective. Three hundred meters above them stood the communications node atop the Brocken, housing both the jammers and the humans’ transmitters and microwave towers. O’Neil, Patel, and Bundeswehr Captain Herschel Fleischer worked upslope.

  “No, don’t please,” Herschel pleaded as one of the heavy Vreenahlwee warriors began staggering towards the radio antennae. Then it turned and rammed headfirst into the aliens’ own jamming transmitter. “Never mind,” the German cheered, then yelped and swore as a purple warrior’s random shot grazed his back plate. Fighting resumed, in chaos rather than purposeful attack, as the aliens staggered, ran, capered, and fired mindlessly.

  Far underground, “Manx One? Rachel?” someone called, gently shaking the woman. No, no I don’t want to be alive! she wept inside her head. Leave me alone, leave me be. But Sergeant Lee was insistent. “We need to get out of here! Ford, Mackintosh, help me.” Rada felt strong arms picking her up. Someone lifted her injured shoulder and she mewed plaintively as it was shoved back into place. “Partial dislocation but her armor saved the arm,” the voice said, then she felt herself being dragged.

  “I can walk,” she said, and the men set her down on her feet. Lee handed her the sword cane, Weber’s rifle, and her kit. “How are we?”

  Lee’s expression was grim. “We lost Mueller, Armijo, and Parkman. Johanssen’s hurt, as are Grauberg, Mikitori, Schmidt, Klaus, and you. But the wounded are all able to travel. We’ve already moved Armijo, Mueller, and Parkman out of here. Let’s go, Manx One. You and Weber have the tail.” Rada’s head bobbed numbly, and then she and the others began the long walk out of the mine. As they went, she wanted to hang her head down, leaving the others to watch for danger, but fought off the urge. She could hardly focus her eye, her shoulder ached, and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. But she put one foot in front of the other, just as she had on the long forced training marches with the Komets so many centuries before.

  “Um, ma’am?” Wolf Weber said after what seemed like forever. She looked over and noticed him stopping, so she slowed as well. “This is where we left the others.” Rada sensed something in his words and limped over to the chamber. Grauberg stopped her as Mackintosh and Klaus emerged white lipped, heads shaking. Weber continued into the room and came back out just as quickly. “Don’t go in there. Kinsky and the others are dead.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Wolf nodded, then took her arm and gently turned her back toward the main tunnel, pulling her away from the men bringing the remains out of the chamber. “There’s nothing you can do for them. We’ll come back for the bodies after we’re relieved.” The soldiers resumed their climb toward the outside world. She never learned what happened to the German GDF lieutenant and the men who’d stayed with him, but she could guess. I should have pulled rank and forced them to come with us, she cursed herself as she walked. After another long time, Grauberg called a halt. Rada fell asleep as soon as her rear touched the ground, and she wasn’t the only one. Weber, Lee, and Grauberg decided on a three-hour pause before resuming the long trail uphill.

  Back at the field headquarters, Joschka and his staff realized what was going on when the reports began coming in again after the jamming ceased. “It’s as if the brain lost control of them,” Colonel Havel said, as he removed another batch of Vreenahlwee from the map.

  “I hope that’s what happened,” Joschka said around his pipe. He blew a smoke ring. “Since we don’t know if this is permanent, we need to take every advantage of it that we can while we still can.” At his command, the Austrians and British, along with the remaining Germans, began pushing deeper into the Harz, while the Polish branch moved in closer to be ready in case of a breakout attempt. Soon word came in that the communications node had been recaptured. Once things stabilized into a steady advance, the Graf-General stepped ou
tside to stretch his legs and indulge in a few minutes of smoky contemplation.

  The message runner found him standing in the sunlight, two perfect smoke rings drifting eastward. “My lord General, it seems that the enemy’s confusion is permanent,” she said with an enormous smile as she handed him a hard copy of a field report.

  The blue-eyed man thanked her, read the paper, and smiled, his heart almost bursting with joyous relief. Not only had a group of German and British soldiers killed the hive-mind, but Rada Ni Drako was alive! The group reported finding no booby traps on the portion of the mine that the Vreenahlwee had commandeered, and they awaited further orders from their location at the mine entrance. McKendrick and his people were fighting their way in to meet and relieve the exhausted squad. Thank you, blessed holy Lord Joschka prayed, fighting back tears. Thank you for letting us survive and for giving us the victory. Thank you for giving me Rada back.

  Two hours earlier, Lieutenant Grauberg, Sergeants Lee and Weber, their men, and their advisor had basked in the late afternoon sunshine and relished the sensation of being alive. Lee, who didn’t care for dark, wet places to begin with, decided that he never, ever wanted to go underground again. Corporal Fritz made a note to himself to ask his grandfather, a miner in the Ruhr, what it had been like in the old days and how the old man had survived.

  Commander Ni Drako just soaked in the heat, rested her bruised shoulder and tried not to weep. Once there was nothing left to vent her bloodlust upon, only bitter sorrow and the knowledge of just how much more blood was on her hands remained within her soul. Rada was exhausted. They all were, but her emptiness and guilt came from more than just weariness, and all the healing sunlight on the planet couldn’t chase away the shadows crowding around the mournful woman.