Bounty Hunter: Dig Two Graves

by Rachel Aukes

  Kit grabbed Rex’s hand and grunted when he was yanked to his feet. He was wobbly but managed to steady himself. He checked his thigh holsters to find both of his small blasters still locked in, and felt the comforting heft of his sword on his back. He glanced over at Rex. “I don’t suppose you brought another photon rifle with you,” he asked hopefully.

  Rex tapped the large blaster slung over his shoulder. “Betsy is the only one I brought besides my pistols.” He motioned to the two blasters on his thighs. “What happened to the rifle you came here with?”

  Kit motioned to the cavernous silo. “My explosions were more successful than I anticipated, and I dropped it when I was trying to keep from dying.”

  Rex nodded toward Kit’s blasters. “You’ll just have to aim better with those spark-shooters.”

  The smaller the blaster, the weaker the beam, which made pistols fine for close-quarter fighting, but worthless when trying to hit something from a distance. Kit preferred his sword for close combat, but he was too weak for his usual techniques.

  Boom.

  The floor rocked under his feet, and he grabbed the wall to keep from falling. He peered out through the doorway to see a beam of sunlight shining in from a hole where the entrance had been. The light glistened in air thick with dust.

  “Looks like the invasion is underway. Any great ideas on defending this hole in the ground?” Rex asked.

  “I was hoping you were bringing the cavalry,” Kit said.

  “Nope. Just me. Val and Joe have a tank of their own to deal with first.”

  Kit grimaced. “Then it’s just the two of us holding off a few dozen murcs. Damn, I wish I still had my exoshield.”

  “Quit being so dramatic. An exoshield probably wouldn’t help much in here, anyway. Not if these guys plan to bomb us out.”

  “Thanks for the positive attitude,” Kit said drily.

  Rex aimed his blaster at the opening. “How’s this for positive? I’m positive that we’re probably going to die in here.”

  “Don’t give up your day job.” Kit pulled out his blaster, though the entrance was beyond its lethal range.

  A shadow appeared in the opening; it was the helmet-covered head of a murc leaning over the edge to peer in. Rex fired, and the murc tumbled into the chasm. A volley of random blaster fire followed, and they stepped back in the cover of the tunnel.

  “They’re going to get bored with me picking off their guys one at a time,” Rex said. He then eyed Kit, the opening, then Kit again. He let out a dramatic sigh and handed Kit his rifle. “Take this.”

  Kit took the rifle. “What are you doing?”

  “You’re too beat up to do anyone much good. Betsy’s a good rifle—she won’t let you down. Hold them off as long as you can, then seal this door and find yourself a cozy hiding place.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going back to the surface to hit them from behind.”

  Kit’s jaw loosened. A single man, even in an exoshield, didn’t stand a chance against several squads of murcs and a tank.

  Rex slapped Kit’s shoulder—his tender left shoulder—causing him to wince. “I’ll see you when this is done,” he said cheerfully and left before Kit could object.

  As he left Kit in the tunnel, he muttered, “Sloan’s treasure vault better be worth it.”

  Kit checked the blaster before settling into a comfortable position with a clear sightline.

  Another murc looked over the edge. Kit fired, and another murc was dead. From his current position, he made a small target—it would take a very lucky or very good shot to hit him. But it wouldn’t take long for the murcs to get tired of being picked off and try something different.

  They’d likely send in a drone to target Kit and scan the silo’s top levels. They might also grow impatient and use the tank to blast away the top levels. That’s what Kit would do. If they did that, he wasn’t far enough away to survive. That meant he was staying in his current position until either he was killed, or Rex performed a miracle.

  It would change his entire perception of Rex if the hunter managed to pull off something to stop an invasion.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Joe and Val stopped near the silo without a decent plan to take out the tank, which had its cannon aimed at the hole in the ground where the entrance had been, and what looked to be the last of the murcs rappelling into it.

  Val winced. “They’re getting in.”

  “And we’ll get them out,” Joe said as he pulled on his helmet. “Once we take out the tank, we can go after them.”

  She pressed her lips firmly together and gave a single nod.

  He’d rarely put on his exoshield inside a cutter before, and it’d taken the entire drive to don the suit. But, damn, it felt good to wear it again.

  Exoshields were custom-built, and Joe had spent years wearing his. The temperature regulators had helped evaporate the sweat he’d been drenched in from the battle at the ruins, and the gentle conformance of the interior padding soothed the burns in his thigh and side.

  Joe used his visual scanners to analyze the area around the tank. “It doesn’t look like the tank has a ground squad defending it, so you can cover me while I run up there and stick a grenade up its undercarriage.”

  “As easy as that? And if that tank turret starts to roll your way?” she asked.

  “I’ll run extra fast.”

  She didn’t seem convinced.

  They’d parked by a ridge a third of a mile away from the silo, which meant they needed to get a lot closer to even try Joe’s half-baked plan.

  A knock on Val’s window made them jump and reach for their blasters. They swung around to see Rex, in his exoshield, waving at them.

  Val opened the window.

  “Glad to see you could join the party,” Rex said.

  “You about got yourself shot, you idiot,” Val said.

  “You like me. You wouldn’t shoot me,” Rex retorted.

  “I almost shot you,” Joe added.

  Rex cocked his head. “You’d shoot me after all the things I’ve done for you?”

  "I’d give it some consideration,” Joe said. He and Val stepped out of the cutter.

  “I don’t suppose you have any great ideas for taking out a tank,” Rex said.

  “Great ideas? No. An idea? Yes,” Val replied, then frowned. “Wait. What are you doing out here? I thought you were going in through an emergency exit.”

  “Been there, done that, and saved Kit. Again. Then I thought I’d come topside to see about spanking these bad boys on their backside. I was making my way around the valley to do just that when I saw you pull up. We’ve got to quit running into each other like this, doll.”

  “Call me doll again, and I will shoot you. Got it?”

  “Sure thing, sweets.”

  Rex turned away before Val could snap back a response, and led them toward a ridgeline. They skirted the valley, staying low, trying not to attract attention.

  In the valley below, the murcs seemed determined to enter the silo. Rex stopped them behind an outcrop. “Hm. I don’t like that,” he whispered.

  “You don’t like what?” Joe asked.

  “Kit was holding the murcs off at the entrance. It doesn’t look like there’s anything holding them back now. I hate to say it, but I think our boy bit the dust.”

  Joe had a sudden craving to punch Rex, but now wasn’t the time. He needed to concentrate on getting in and finding his friend. He tapped the grenades on his weapons belt. They were small and didn’t pack the punch of Val’s grenade launcher, but a couple of them would do the trick.

  “All right. You two cover me,” Joe said, “and I’ll see about leveling the playing field.”

  “Wait. Even if you take out the tank, there’s still only three of us against at least fifty murcs,” Rex said.

  Joe slapped him on the shoulder. “Exactly.” He then stepped out from behind the rock—and froze.An unmarked brown ship flew in over the MRC transport
s, hovered, then settled to the ground. The tank’s turret swung around as four soldiers, all in exoshields the color of the ship, jumped out. One held a large gray box, the likes of which Joe had seen before: an EMP box. It lit up, intensely white, and discharged an EMP. The pulse rippled over the tank, blanketing it in the same white light. The turret stopped moving.

  The soldier set the box down and joined his three comrades as they ran together toward the silo.

  “I think I’m in love,” Rex said.

  “Uh, anyone know who just crashed the party?” Joe asked.

  “It’s a Z-team,” Val said.

  “A what?” Joe asked.

  Instead of answering, she motioned to the silo. “Come on. Let’s go!”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Kit shot one more murc before he heard the familiar hum of an attack drone. He scrambled to find it in his blaster’s sights, and located its shadow first: a flattened, round, black shape descending through the hole. He opened fire before it was all the way through. It zipped away before his shots connected, and zoomed toward him. Kit rolled a split second before blaster fire pelted the floor where he’d just been. He lunged to the panel and closed the door, shutting the drone out.

  He sucked in a deep breath and pushed himself into a standing position. Blaster shots strafed the door, and heat emanated from the metal. Then, as abruptly as the shooting began, it stopped.

  The door had no window, so he had no way of telling if the drone was right outside, ready to kill him the instant he opened the door, or if it’d moved on to seek out easier prey. Drones were far faster than humans. If he opened the door, the drone could shoot him before he saw it. He took several steps back. His only option was to wait for the door to be blown.

  His expectations were met mere seconds later when he heard a click—something connecting with the door. He raised his left arm to cover his face just before an explosion rattled the door in its frame, and it clanged to the floor. Kit started firing nonstop into the grey smoke even before sighting the drone. It zoomed into view, also firing. Kit connected a lucky shot the same instant it struck his blaster, knocking it from his hand. The drone tumbled back and was lost in the smoky haze. Kit picked up the blaster and saw that the barrel had been warped by the drone’s hit, making it useless.

  He tossed it to the side and unholstered his pistols. He expected the drone. Instead, a murc dove into the tunnel. Kit fired, but the blast deflected harmlessly off the murc’s helmet. The soldier rolled to his feet.

  Kit dropped the pistols and drew his sword. His muscles protested, and he couldn’t make a full swing in the narrow corridor, so he stabbed the murc. The sword penetrated armor and pierced the soldier’s heart before he could squeeze off a shot. Kit withdrew his sword and let the body fall while assuming a proper stance as two more emerged from the haze. They raised their blasters. Kit knew he couldn’t reach them before they pulled the triggers.

  Nevertheless, he ran at them, sword raised.

  Shots fired, and both murcs collapsed. Kit stumbled to a stop, confused. A soldier in a brown exoshield emerged through the haze, shot each of the downed murcs once more for good measure, gave Kit an assessing look as though scanning him, turned, and left.

  Kit stared blankly at the space where the newcomer had been a second earlier. The soldier wasn’t a hunter—his shield bore no guild markings, let alone a callsign. Kit had no idea who the soldier was, but he had to assume that if the brown soldier killed murcs—and hadn’t killed Kit—he was an ally.

  At least, he hoped that was the case. An old saying came to mind.

  The enemy of my enemy…

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Joe and Rex followed Val, who followed the Z-team into the silo. Joe had no idea what a Z-team was, but from how the soldiers moved in concert with such fluid efficiency, they were professionals. Not something he’d seen in the MRC units. The “Z” in “Z-team” put a rock in his gut, and he was afraid he already knew what it stood for.

  Zenith.

  First, the silo, now this team. It was too much to be a coincidence.

  “I need to upgrade my exoshield,” Rex said thoughtfully as they peered down through the hole where the entrance used to be.

  “Yeah,” Joe agreed as he watched as the soldiers in identical brown exoshields descended into the silo using thin jetpacks that looked too small to hold their weight.

  “Tell me one of you has rappelling lines,” Val said.

  “Yep,” they both answered, and started pulling out the retractable lines connected to their weapons belts.

  “You can ride me down. I mean, you can ride down with me,” Rex said to Val.

  “There are times I want to shoot you, Rex,” Val said.

  Joe ignored them while he analyzed the dark silo. At least seven levels, if not more, had been blown away, which meant they’d have to rappel beyond them to reach the walkway—assuming the walkway was even stable. “We could rappel, but it looks like it’ll be faster to use the escape tunnel.”

  “That’s a better plan. Let’s hurry.” Val took off running.

  “Fun–haters,” Rex said to Joe before he ran to catch up with her.

  Joe’s exoshield kept him cool while he ran and, more importantly, soothed his burns. He had no trouble keeping up with the uninjured Rex, and they reached the emergency entrance in under a minute. Once there, they rolled under Rex’s cutter, climbed down the ladder, and were into the tunnel. Val raced to the next ladder. They continued descending the ladders between the levels.

  “So, are these Z-team guys friends?” Joe asked as they ran.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. I’d say our interests are aligned right now,” Val replied, and slid down another ladder.

  “And what’s their interest?” he countered.

  She waited while he slid down behind her. “The silo.”

  Joe’s features went grim. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  Rex jumped down, skipping the ladder altogether. “Whoa, wait. This silo was built by Zenith. Are you saying that the Z-team is Zenith? I thought the murcs had clobbered them all.”

  “Evidently, not all of them.”

  This time, rather than taking the next ladder, Val continued down the tunnel to a door that led to the walkway. She stepped out onto it tentatively. When it held, she jumped. “It’s secure,” she said, then ran ahead.

  Joe could hear blaster fire several levels below them. He leaned out and looked over the edge. Murcs on the walkway were exchanging fire with the Z-team, which was still descending the open center of the silo—the space normally used by the elevators.

  Val and Rex took off running toward the gunfight, but Joe paused while he analyzed the Z-team’s strategy. The Z-team fired at the murcs who shot at them but, strangely, ignored those who didn’t, even those engaging with refugees.

  Joe decided he wasn’t convinced the Z-team’s interests were aligned with his, and he sprinted to catch up to his friends.

  Another level down, a dead refugee hung half off the walkway. Val held up a fist, signaling them to stop. Rex turned back, raised his forefinger to his mouthpiece as though to say, “Shh,” then tiptoed dramatically forward. The movement looked ridiculous in an exoshield, but Joe and Val raised their blasters and followed him…though they didn’t tiptoe.

  Joe quickly saw—or heard, rather—what Val had noticed. A pair of murcs, two doors ahead, stepped out onto the walkway. The invaders noticed the trio too late. Rex gunned both down before they could swing their blasters around.

  Rex chuckled. “My old man always used to say, ‘Do unto others before they do unto you.’”

  “Sounds like a smart fellow. Were you adopted?” Joe said.

  “Har, har,” Rex replied drily.

  A third murc burst from the room firing his blaster. A couple of shots deflected off Rex’s exoshield, and Val took the soldier down with a single shot to the chest.

  Rex checked the room to make sure it was clear. He stepped over th
e bodies and bent down to speak to the freshly dead murc. “Now that was a dumb move.” He straightened and pointed at the body. “You see that? That right there is proof of Darwin’s theory.”

  “Aw, don’t tell me you switched from reading a dictionary to reading a science book,” Joe said.

  Rex tapped his helmet. “This brain contains a wealth of knowledge, Josey. You’d be surprised what’s all up here.”

  “Any way we can speed this up? Every minute you stand around talking, more of my people are dying,” Val said, and brushed past them.

  Right then, a full squad of murcs filled the walkway.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Joe, Val, and Rex were outnumbered, but Joe and Rex wore exoshields, while the murcs’ armor didn’t stop blaster fire at close distances. Joe leapt in front of Val. He didn’t know who shot first, but he knew that he fired nonstop at the seven murcs.

  Rex laughed while he fired. “Your shots are like mosquito bites!” he teased before shooting the soldier nearest him.

  Most of the squad retreated into the cafeteria they’d emerged from, and sent random shots around the doorway. Joe had to do something, or Val would get killed. He reached for a grenade, but his belt was empty. He glanced over at Rex’s rig, saw a grenade, yanked it off, and tossed it through the doorway. He then tackled Val to the ground a split second before the explosion rattled the walkway.

  Joe rolled off her and offered a hand. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m good,” she said.

  “Hey, I was saving that one,” Rex protested.

  “Well, it just saved our lives.” Joe looked inside the cafeteria to find all the murcs dead. At the far side, near the buffet line, lay two refugees, both wearing cook uniforms, also dead.

  “It looks like this evening’s forecast includes a zero percent chance of those guys cooking,” Rex said.

  Val cocked her head in his direction. “Rex, do you never realize when you have a good opportunity to shut up?”