Homeguard

by Jason Cordova

  He ignored the suit’s multiple warnings about imminent physical failure. His goal was the light at the end of the tunnel. It was a cliché, but it drove him still. For he knew what lay beyond. At least, he hoped he knew. If he was proven wrong, he’d feel pretty stupid about all this. Especially if he lived through it all.

  The Darksuit did its best to keep him standing, for which he was grateful. It would be impossible to make his way to see the light of his world on his belly. Well, unlikely at the very least, he corrected. He checked the local time and blinked in surprise. If he hurried, he could catch the sunrise. That would be nice. It felt as though years had passed since he’d seen one, though Gabriel knew only a week had passed since he’d watched it from the top of the communications tower. The tunnels beneath the city had sucked away all semblance of day and night.

  A coughing fit wracked his body. Beeker had not only managed to puncture his guts, but had apparently done some damage to his lungs, as well. Gabriel wasn’t sure how that had happened, but he didn’t have time to fix it just yet. If he even could. The Darksuit was doing everything it could to keep him on his feet and his guts from bleeding out. The lungs were a minor problem, according to the Leviathan cortex. They’d fill up with fluid and he’d drown in a few hours, which was bad, but the computer had decided his stomach wounds would kill him much sooner.

  Still, drowning would suck, all things considered.

  The end of the tunnel loomed. It angled upward near the very end, and Gabriel realized this was the Gold Line, the subway tunnel that transported people out beyond Marigold City’s limits. It was ruined, now, courtesy of the orbital bombardment the enemy battle group had executed before the Third Regiment had arrived, but Gabriel could remember when it had run all the way to the beaches of Fincastle.

  Which are gone, too, he thought bitterly. Four thousand six hundred and twenty three citizens of the Dominion dead, because I wanted to destroy a dreadnought to warn away a madman. A warning that was ignored and led to even more people dying. I should have just blown up one of the ships in the rear. They wouldn’t have lost geosynchronous orbit and crashed into the ocean.

  Gabriel paused and tried to breathe. The suit was expending too much oxygen to keep his lungs clear, which was beginning to lead to oxygen toxicity syndrome. However, the suit couldn’t correct this. If it stopped, he’d drown in his own fluids and blood much quicker than his stomach wounds were killing him.

  His mind was filled with doubt, his heart with regret. Never in his life had Gabriel so utterly failed. He was supposed to protect these people, and instead he’d brought them destruction. Failure wasn’t something he was familiar with, but he was quickly becoming so.

  Stop, Gabriel scolded himself. There was no time for self-doubt, not now. He was already badly hurt. Giving in wasn’t going to help in any way. He needed his inner strength, the bedrock which had laid the foundation of his becoming a man. To rely on what was most important. Preparing for the next step, and the next. There could be no doubt now. An iron will was needed.

  Reaching the top of the tunnel, he looked out at what had formerly been lush grasslands. Beyond that he could see the sea. In the predawn grey, his suit was able to make out the horizon where the sky and water met. His pain lessened as the Darksuit flooded his system with more painkillers. Groggy and a little woozy, he staggered over to a concrete barrier used to keep people out and rested against it. More drugs filled his system.

  Coughing, Gabriel manually overrode it. He knew what the suit was doing, and he’d be damned if he let the suit put him to sleep before he could see the sunrise. His throat was raw, and his nostrils burned from the pure oxygen flowing through his breathing mask.

  “Fuck this,” he muttered.

  Gabriel tore off the helmet and tossed it aside. He peeled off his protective goggles and the breathing apparatus. Unfiltered sky filled his vision. Burning from the oxygen, his eyes watered. He winced and tried to blink away the tears. Slowly, he lifted his face to the sun rising in the east. The taste of the air, the coolness of the breeze. This was the world his ancestors had helped create hundreds of years before.

  His suit beeped a warning, but Gabriel didn’t care. As familiar as it was, this planet wasn’t his home. It was as good a place as any to die, though. At least he’d be near Sophie’s family, and his own.

  Above all else, family remains.

  Mourning the fact he would die alone, Gabriel dropped to a knee. Breathing was impossible now, and he could see the blood from his wounds dripping out of the holes in the suit and onto the rocky ground. Angry he wouldn’t be able to die on Ptolemy like he’d planned, Gabriel started to curse fate before pausing. Anger wasn’t what he needed right now. Besides, Sophie would understand. In death, it didn’t matter where you ended up. True love was forever, after all. They would find each other again.

  Gabriel found the pain was finally gone. The physical and emotional anguish he’d been suffering for over three years were no longer there, replaced by anticipation and acceptance. That surprised him a little. Death had never seemed to beckon in the past. Long had he been in death’s shadow, even sometimes acted as its agent, but never had he stood before it as he did now.

  Unafraid, he reached out to the bright light. The sun was higher now, a bright orange ball of life and hope. A new day was upon the planet. The survivors of this battle would come out of hiding and check on their homes and neighbors. Life would go on. Gabriel blinked as a beautiful smile, one he’d thought he’d never see again in this life, welcomed him. A hand, supple and smooth, took his outstretched armored fist in its own. He could feel her skin through the suit’s armor. Eyes that had pierced his soul the moment he’d first met her stared at him. He met her gaze, unwavering. There were so many emotions there, all of which tore at Gabriel. Love, sadness, hope…it was a mirror of his own heart. Everything he’d buried and shoved away the moment he’d donned the Darkling mask came roaring back—a fiery heat that engulfed him. It was unbearably hot, yet it did not burn. He cried out as love flooded into his heart.

  Sophie…

  The light accepted him, and his eyes closed. His mind briefly drifted off to Aurelia and how much she resembled Sophie. He tried to reach out and touch her, to say goodbye.

  Stay safe, child. Know that we will always love you.

  Silently, the last Darkling fell.

  * * *

  The young girl sat quietly in the raging blizzard. The howling wind buffeted her, but she didn’t move. The suit protected her from all elements, be it heat or cold. Even with a wind chill frigid enough to instantly freeze exposed skin, she remained warm. This was her home, after all. At least, it was her home until they could get the ship airborne once more and move to the south.

  The ship’s captain had said the repairs could take up to six months. That was a long time, but not all that long in the grand scheme of things. It could’ve been worse. They could be permanently marooned on Shiva with no food. With the ship’s energy core and the supplies the smuggler had on board, they could easily survive for up to five years in the frigid north. Longer, if they made it to the equator, which was something she looked forward to. While the cold didn’t bother her in the suit, it meant she had to keep it on. She liked Sfyri and loved the suit, but having to take it off every time she needed to use the restroom was a pain.

  A bolt of pain suddenly lanced straight through her heart. She gasped in agony as darkness flooded the emotional wound. She’d felt something like this before, and every time it had hurt just as much. First her mother had been killed during the rescue. Her grandmother had died later at the hands of a Dominion agent. Both had hurt immensely. She’d been too young to fully grasp what had happened to her mother, and she still blamed herself for not being able to destroy all the Abassi who’d been attacking them. Her abuela’s death had triggered a violent response, one she couldn’t fully control. It had led to the death of three Dominion agents, two by her own hand.

  This time was different. The
death wasn’t close. It wasn’t even in the same solar system, but it was more poignant than anything she’d felt in a long time, perhaps ever. She furrowed her brow and concentrated to find the source. Her eyes closed, Aurelia reached out, father than she’d ever managed before. What had caused the sudden emptiness in her universe was out there, hiding in the shadows. She simply needed to shine a bright enough light with her mind to find it.

  Her eyes snapped open. Inside her mask, her lips trembled. Despite the suit’s ability to absorb all liquid, her eyes were flooded with tears. Her armored hands clenched tightly, the fingers digging into the rock. Dust and debris crumbled to the snow-covered ground below. Her breaths began to come up short in her chest. She heaved as she struggled to keep from screaming. The suit shook, mimicking her movements inside. Breathing became more difficult as her emotions overwhelmed her. Everything hurt, pain blazing deeply within her soul. The wound was deep, an emotionally mortal one, from which one never truly recovered.

  Around her the ice trembled as her control over her power began to slip. The wind around her stilled to almost nothing, creating a bubble of silence surrounding her, protecting Aurelia like a cocoon. More cracks began to form in the ice as the pain grew. A single gasped word managed to escape her lips.

  “Daddy?”

  # # # # #

  About the Author

  A 2015 John W. Campbell Award finalist, Jason Cordova has traveled extensively throughout the U.S. and the world. He has multiple novels and short stories currently in print. He also coaches high school varsity basketball and loves the outdoors.

  He currently resides in Virginia.

  Catch up with Jason at https://jasoncordova.com/.

  * * * * *

  Titles by Jason Cordova

  Wraithkin

  Darkling

  Deathlords

  Corruptor

  Devastator

  Kraken Mare

  Murder World: Kaiju Dawn

  * * * * *

  The following is an

  Excerpt from Book One of the Salvage Title Trilogy:

  Salvage Title

  ___________________

  Kevin Steverson

  Now Available from Theogony Books

  eBook, Paperback, and Audio

  Excerpt from “Salvage Title:”

  A steady beeping brought Harmon back to the present. Clip’s program had succeeded in unlocking the container. “Right on!” Clip exclaimed. He was always using expressions hundreds or more years out of style. “Let’s see what we have; I hope this one isn’t empty, too.” Last month they’d come across a smaller vault, but it had been empty.

  Harmon stepped up and wedged his hands into the small opening the door had made when it disengaged the locks. There wasn’t enough power in the small cells Clip used to open it any further. He put his weight into it, and the door opened enough for them to get inside. Before they went in, Harmon placed a piece of pipe in the doorway so it couldn’t close and lock on them, baking them alive before anyone realized they were missing.

  Daylight shone in through the doorway, and they both froze in place; the weapons vault was full. In it were two racks of rifles, stacked on top of each other. One held twenty magnetic kinetic rifles, and the other held some type of laser rifle. There was a rack of pistols of various types. There were three cases of flechette grenades and one of thermite. There were cases of ammunition and power clips for the rifles and pistols, and all the weapons looked to be in good shape, even if they were of a strange design and clearly not made in this system. Harmon couldn’t tell what system they had been made in, but he could tell what they were.

  There were three upright containers on one side and three more against the back wall that looked like lockers. Five of the containers were not locked, so Clip opened them. The first three each held two sets of light battle armor that looked like it was designed for a humanoid race with four arms. The helmets looked like the ones Harmon had worn at the academy, but they were a little long in the face. The next container held a heavy battle suit—one that could be sealed against vacuum. It was also designed for a being with four arms. All the armor showed signs of wear, with scuffed helmets. The fifth container held shelves with three sizes of power cells on them. The largest power cells—four of them—were big enough to run a mech.

  Harmon tried to force the handle open on the last container, thinking it may have gotten stuck over time, but it was locked and all he did was hurt his hand. The vault seemed like it had been closed for years.

  Clip laughed and said, “That won’t work. It’s not age or metal fatigue keeping the door closed. Look at this stuff. It may be old, but it has been sealed in for years. It’s all in great shape.”

  “Well, work some of your tech magic then, ‘Puter Boy,” Harmon said, shaking out his hand.

  Clip pulled out a small laser pen and went to work on the container. It took another ten minutes, but finally he was through to the locking mechanism. It didn’t take long after that to get it open.

  Inside, there were two items—an eight-inch cube on a shelf that looked like a hard drive or a computer and the large power cell it was connected to. Harmon reached for it, but Clip grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t! Let me check it before you move it. It’s hooked up to that power cell for a reason. I want to know why.”

  Harmon shrugged. “Okay, but I don’t see any lights; it has probably been dead for years.”

  Clip took a sensor reader out of his kit, one of the many tools he had improved. He checked the cell and the device. There was a faint amount of power running to it that barely registered on his screen. There were several ports on the back along with the slot where the power cell was hooked in. He checked to make sure the connections were tight, he then carried the two devices to the hovercraft.

  Clip then called Rinto’s personal comm from the communicator in the hovercraft. When Rinto answered, Clip looked at Harmon and winked. “Hey boss, we found some stuff worth a hovercraft full of credit…probably two. Can we have it?” he asked.

  * * * * *

  Get “Salvage Title” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H8Q3HBV.

  Find out more about Kevin Steverson and “Salvage Title” at: https://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/kevin-steverson/.

  * * * * *

  The following is an

  Excerpt from Book One of the Earth Song Cycle:

  Overture

  ___________________

  Mark Wandrey

  Available Now from Theogony Books

  eBook, Paperback, and Audio

  Excerpt from Overture:

  Prologue

  May 21st

  Dawn was still an hour away as Mindy Channely opened the roof access and stared in surprise at the crowd already assembled there. “Authorized Personnel Only” was printed in bold red letters on the door through which she and her husband, Jake, slipped onto the wide roof.

  A few people standing nearby took notice of their arrival. Most had no reaction, a few nodded, and a couple waved tentatively. Mindy looked over the skyline of Portland and instinctively oriented herself before glancing to the east. The sky had an unnatural glow that had been growing steadily for hours, and as they watched, scintillating streamers of blue, white, and green radiated over the mountains like a strange, concentrated aurora borealis.

  “You almost missed it,” one man said. She let the door close, but saw someone had left a brick to keep it from closing completely. Mindy turned and saw the man who had spoken wore a security guard uniform. The easy access to the building made more sense.

  “Ain’t no one missin’ this!” a drunk man slurred.

  “We figured most people fled to the hills over the past week,” Jake replied.

  “I guess we were wrong,” Mindy said.

  “Might as well enjoy the show,” the guard said and offered them a huge, hand-rolled cigarette that didn’t smell like tobacco. She waved it off, and the two men shrugged before taking a puff.
<
br />   “Here it comes!” someone yelled. Mindy looked to the east. There was a bright light coming over the Cascade Mountains, so intense it was like looking at a welder’s torch. Asteroid LM-245 hit the atmosphere at over 300 miles per second. It seemed to move faster and faster, from east to west, and the people lifted their hands to shield their eyes from the blinding light. It looked like a blazing comet or a science fiction laser blast.

  “Maybe it will just pass over,” someone said in a voice full of hope.

  Mindy shook her head. She’d studied the asteroid’s track many times.

  In a matter of a few seconds, it shot by and fell toward the western horizon, disappearing below the mountains between Portland and the ocean. Out of view of the city, it slammed into the ocean.

  The impact was unimaginable. The air around the hypersonic projectile turned to superheated plasma, creating a shockwave that generated 10 times the energy of the largest nuclear weapon ever detonated as it hit the ocean’s surface.

  The kinetic energy was more than 1,000 megatons; however, the object didn’t slow as it flashed through a half mile of ocean and into the sea bed, then into the mantel, and beyond.