The fire had shifted away from me, so I made ready to run back to Susie, who was still firing her energy gun. We might still get out of this.
For the second time in as many minutes, I jumped to my feet. And for the second time, my luck was lousy. The hair on the nape of my neck tingled and stood on end, and the room exploded with a flash. The concussion caught me full on, and I smashed into the wall again, this time with my back. I was stunned from the hit and fell. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw NATech troops racing down the corridor towards us and I knew I would never be Abigail Marks.
* * * *
I woke up in the bottom of a speeding hovercraft. A primal fear urged me awake. I was outside on the desert and I was surrounded by NATech commandos. In a moment of holographic clarity, I remembered thinking that they had different insignia than the NATech Xeno cohorts. They already had my combat jacket and blouse off and were working on my holster. I looked up at the one trying to unbuckle me.
“No, m'sieur! I am not meant to be used this way! I'm a housekeeper!"
"NO!” I SCREAMED. “MISS DECHANT! NO!"
“NO!” I screamed, and wrenched a hand free. I stabbed my rigid fingers into his eyes. He screamed and released me, blood gushing from the ruined organs.
I have no memory of the next few minutes except that I went wild. There was no possible way that I could defeat five highly trained NATech commandos in unarmed combat while being held down by three of them. But welling up inside me was the terror of losing control, losing myself to them. My beast roared free, and for the first time in my life, I gave myself completely over to it.
My next memory was hearing the NATech comlink crackling for a status report. I looked around through hot eyes, my chest heaving from the exertion I couldn't remember. The hov craft stood motionless on the desert floor. I was standing topless in the middle of the open ship, five dead commandos on the deck. I was covered with blood, but most of it was theirs, not mine. The only wound I had was a knife gash on my right side that ran from the ribs under my arm and crossed under my right breast to the middle of my chest. It was bleeding fairly heavily, but seemed superficial. A gentle breeze blew a tendril of hair in my eyes and I moved a hand to brush it back, feeling the cut above my cheekbone from the hanger explosion. That movement woke me up.
After making sure the four men and one woman were dead, I swung the craft around and headed back to our base. I didn't know how much time had passed, but it didn't matter. I was a dog and would die that way, proud to share my grave with my comrades and the man who was almost my husband.
I set the pilot and went to search for my top among the bodies. It wasn't around, probably discarded as we raced along, and although the female commando no longer had any need for her blouse, I would never wear NATech insignia. Fortunately, my sleeveless combat jacket was there and still serviceable. I put it on, more for protection than for modesty's sake. I felt a stinging on the inside of my right arm and inspected it. The commando that sliced me also hit my arm. Probably a double-edged blade. I cut free a piece of NATech uniform and wrapped it quickly. I didn't have time for my torso wound. I returned to the controls.
The ion engine was redlined, and it howled in protest, the antigravs spraying massive clouds of sand in their wake. Ten kilometers ahead, I could make out the flashes of sunlight as the heavy guns changed position, probably to begin evacuation. I wondered dimly what I was doing so far from base, and a tiny piece of my brain tickled the notion that it had something to do with the different insignia, which was neither Xeno nor Armored. But I was too hurt and too worried about getting back to take the thought further. Eight kilometers.
I had no idea what I was going to do, but that wouldn't stop me. Going back, I searched the bodies and salvaged three slug guns, my pistol and knife, and a plasma rifle. I holstered my pistoI and checked the load on the rifle, hoping it was fully charged. It was. It was now about four kilometers to the base. The firing had stopped, and I noticed two troop transports pulling away. The fight was over.
There was a searing heat above me, accompanied by a banshee scream. The entire area glowed with a red haze. The predawn desert sky shone like midday. There was a massive flash at the base, and I was blinded. Kiki! She had brought down a microsat! I groped for the controls and shut the engines down. I dropped to the deck of the hov just as the shock wave hit. There was a deafening roar and the hov canted to its starboard side as the antigravs struggled to compensate.
A screaming sound, louder than the booming concussion, ripped overhead. Through spotted vision I made out a red haze. Again there was a flash as a second microsat struck. Seconds later, the craft was hit with another shock wave. This time, however, the already damaged hov couldn't adjust. It was flung through the air and capsized on its antigrav field. The deck disappeared from beneath me and I was flying through the desert air. I landed hard and felt a white hot pain searing across my chest. The knife cut had been torn open. Blood started ebbing freely from the entire wound, soaking my jacket.
Behind me, the craft creaked and groaned as the fluctuating grav fields crumpled the fatigued metal. The craft lurched once, then smashed into the sand like I had done only moments before. All around it, like offerings sacrificed to the gods of technology and war, lay the dead bodies of NATech soldiers.
I rose up on trembling arms to my hands and knees. Blood dribbled from the slash on my chest onto the sand. I stared at it, trying to calculate how long it would take me to bleed to death. I estimated about twenty minutes. Maybe thirty.
“I should probably take care of that,” I muttered, then sagged down to the warm desert sand.
End of Book Two
* * *
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Shards [Book Two] Page 23
