Star Angel: Awakening (Star Angel Book 1)

by David G. McDaniel

  “This part looks familiar,” Zac reached for one edge. He turned it in her grip and her heart raced faster at his touch.

  “Here,” he pointed. “I seem to recall this part.”

  Jess reached for the section he indicated. Gripped it. It looked like it might twist. She gripped it harder to give it an experimental turn.

  Zac touched her hand gently, as if to caution her: “But I don’t think—”

  The air cracked. Popped, with a loud concussion that bounced Bianca and Toby hard against the walls of the playhouse.

  Both of them gasped in the sudden vacuum, eyes bulging. Bianca jerked erect, shaking her head.

  Jess and the guy were gone.

  CHAPTER 8: FREEFALL

  Jess gasped, all at once unable to breathe. Vertigo yanked at the pit of her stomach and suddenly she was in mid-air. She’d just been in the playhouse. Now …

  Freefall.

  And she was flailing, chest seizing. Howling air rose in pitch and another sound; the sound of explosions. An instant assault on her senses. Smells, orientation, change of temperature, sights. It was night. Fires burned far below. Madly she flailed, twisting, falling from on high and freaked out beyond any terror she’d ever known—catching a shocking glimpse of what lay beneath, spread to the horizon.

  A massive battle

  Machines and men, clashing on the outskirts of a sprawling city. Wind wrapped her with impossible force as she hit terminal velocity. It was a dark, black city, surrounded on all sides by walls and the fires of infinite combat, rushing up to meet her as she fell to her doom.

  The device had killed her and she’d gone straight to Hell.

  Wham! something impacted her from the side, just as the scream of petrified despair was escaping her throat. The impact knocked the scream into a loud grunt and in the next second she was gripped tightly in someone’s arms.

  It was Zac.

  * *

  Crimson fire gave the night a hellish glow, blotting out the horizon, fading overhead until high, high above, true night reigned once more. The real sky, where stars still shone.

  The rest was as of another world.

  Everywhere battle raged. Satori held tight to the edge of the tank’s command cupola as her driver wrenched them over a hill, down a ditch and up the other side, steam turbine roaring, rooster tails of blasted earth spewing from its fast-grinding metal tracks.

  “Bear on those targets!” she yelled, indicating a squad of powered armor units sprinting across the field ahead. The stalk mike she wore transmitted her voice to the driver inside, loud enough to be heard over the furious thunder of combat, but it was in her nature to shout her orders directly. Combat was a visceral thing, a living beast, and she was in a borderline rage when in the midst of it.

  “Fire! Take them out!”

  The tank’s main cannon answered: BOOM! it recoiled, the mighty machine hard on the move, jarring her in the cupola as a flash of fire lanced from the long barrel. An instant later the shell impacted the powered armor units far afield, kinetic round striking them down with a concussion of shrapnel and fire. Satori grabbed the rail gun mounted at the fore of her cupola and opened up on a smaller group of soldiers to port, spraying them with a burst of ultra-sonic death. Bodies jerked and spasmed, pitching to the ground or knocking back.

  The tank pounded on, cresting another berm and leaping the other side at speed, the massive armored fighting machine landing surprisingly smooth as dampening systems absorbed its heavy crunch. Her crew kept on the steam, weaving a path through the battle that had, not long ago, degenerated to utter chaos.

  She scanned ahead, image-enhancing goggles making sense of the collage of shadows and dark shapes moving through fire and smoke. Her unit was grouped more or less in the same vicinity as they pushed toward the dark city walls.

  She looked to that now. Their objective.

  Osaka.

  Stronghold of the Dominion.

  Its fortified walls rose high miles away, visible as an impenetrable fortress on the smoky horizon. Around her the battle raged, but for a moment her focus shifted. Fury replaced by frustration. Frustration with the failure of their original objective; frustration with the decision to come here, directly to the gates of the city, to engage the enemy at the heart of their empire. Frustration that the Dominion existed at all. That it hadn’t been wiped out long ago, before it had the chance to grow into the threat it posed today.

  As she scanned the towering city walls her gaze drifted, upward, to the single slice of sanity in view. High above, where the stars still shone. A peaceful reminder of what could be. And there, in the star-specked heavens …

  What …?

  She peered harder. Two small objects, falling. Reaching up with both hands she adjusted the goggle lenses, unable to gain enough focus to make out the objects clearly but they looked like ...

  Bodies?

  Yes. Two bodies. Falling from the sky.

  The clear, empty sky.

  BOOM! the lurch of the main cannon brought her back to the moment. Her gunner was engaging. BOOM! the main gun fired again, shattering an enemy tank charging their flank.

  “Left!” Satori jumped back into action, mind racing with what she’d just seen. “Bear left!”

  Could it be?

  * *

  Through her overloaded senses Jess felt him, strong arms wrapped around her and pulling close. Deliberately, like he intended something, and it captured her overwhelmed attention.

  “Get ready!” he yelled above the thunderous roar of rushing air, sounding impossibly coherent as he did. Quickly he folded her legs against him and curled her body to his, as if cradling a child. At the same time he aimed his own legs directly down, pointing them toward the wide, flat roof, racing up to meet them. He was so strong her panicked struggles meant nothing to him. He folded her to him effortlessly, not even noticing her exertions. In the last instant she recognized this irresistible strength and turned herself over to him completely.

  Maybe he could save her.

  The shock of impact nearly knocked her out but she felt his body move as they hit. In the instant before the strike he snapped his legs straight beneath them, punching through the roof and sending them crashing through, folding like a spring to absorb the impact. In the next instants of sensory overload, eyes pinched shut, Jess felt him do the same on the next floor, then the one beneath, knocking a hole through each; then another—absorbing the last of their momentum by the fourth. Or fifth. Vaguely she felt him tuck and roll on the last as he deflected their remaining energy into a tumble, holding her protected within a human shell. He rolled once more and …

  They came to a stop.

  It was over.

  For a long time she lay there. Wrapped in his arms. Unmoving. Everything buzzing with an angry vibration, like her whole body had gone numb. Then, slowly …

  Sensations. Creeping in. Sound first. Everything around her wasn’t totally still, just quiet compared to the assault of a moment before. As the dull throb eased she heard the pop of ruptured pipes, electrical wiring, the settling of dust, mortar and smaller chunks of the ceiling above. The ceiling Zac just punched them through. Smells came to her. Dust.

  The feel of Zac, who yet held her.

  She shifted slightly and he spoke quietly near her ear.

  “You okay?”

  For a moment she didn’t move. Adrenaline compelled her to run. To break out of his arms, get up and run, as fast as she could, from wherever she suddenly was. To scream, to run—to do anything to get out of there. But she held herself in check. Nodded that she was. Slowly he released her. She cracked open her eyes. Blinked and looked up, through the ragged holes overhead; one above the other above the other, leading to a night sky forty feet over her head. There were a few stars visible through that jagged slice of madness.

  She looked around.

  They’d ended up in a room. Like an office. Chair. Desk. Not much else. She steadied herself and leaned up to a seated position. Lo
oked at Zac. He was powdered with dust but otherwise whole, alert and looking fine. In fact he looked ready for more.

  As if awakening to something.

  “Please tell me you know what just happened,” she croaked, startled by her own voice. It shook badly.

  Zac looked around, unafraid but confused.

  “I don’t.”

  * *

  “Break behind that berm!” Satori ordered. Her driver complied, spinning the speeding tank around the safety of a tall hill, wrenching to the left and finally to a stop. Frantically Satori scanned the sky. Whatever fell through had already hit the ground. She could’ve sworn it looked like two people, flailing as if they’d just been thrown from an airship.

  But there was no airship.

  “Did you see anything?” she called down to her crew, not believing they would have. The only reason she saw the event at all was that her attention wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

  Explosions rocked the air.

  They had to get back into the action. Still, based on the circumstances that led them to this battle in the first place, what she’d just seen needed to be investigated.

  “I’m sending coordinates,” she said and snapped her goggles from her eyes up to her forehead, pulling out a touch screen. As she typed she glanced back and forth to the point in the sky where she’d seen the flash, using the telemetry data to estimate a drop zone.

  While she worked at the small screen her reflection caught her eye, and for a moment she was distracted by the incongruity of her own appearance against the violent backdrop. The brilliant red of her dyed hair—the official color of field commanders—a perfect match for the red sky behind. Smooth, pale complexion, full lips, features overlaid by the battle goggles resting on her forehead; set against a canvas of war.

  Her hair was pulled into twin tails that flew in the breeze from the back of her head like two battle pennants, making her somewhat unique among the mostly-male crews dotting the turrets of other Venatres tanks. Still, hers was a fearsome reputation on the field of battle. Constant overcompensation had catapulted her beyond her peers in terms of reputation.

  “Send a reconnaissance team to this location,” she sent the coordinates to her driver. “Willet, if he’s available.”

  A concerned reply came back a moment later. “That’s inside the city walls, ma’am.”

  “I know. Have them send back info. I have reason to believe information key to this engagement may be found there. I want a full report on what they find.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  * *

  A distant blast rocked the foundation of the building. Jessica jumped. Zac tried to identify the source.

  “I’m not sure we should stay here,” he said, as if snatching at recollections just at the edge of awareness.

  “Where’s here?” her voice was shaking harder; the impulse to run gripping her tighter. Without waiting for an answer she stood, legs wobbly, prepared to go. Somewhere. Anywhere but there. Zac stood quickly and steadied her. Another blast shook the building and he took her hand, leading her without further delay to a door and out to a stairwell.

  He led them down to ground level. Jess fairly leapt from stair to stair behind him, legs pumping to keep up. Two flights. Four. Six. Eight, and she began to notice there were floor numbers at each landing, written in English.

  They hit street level and Zac knocked open a door and headed outside, Jess in tow. And, again, the sensations of her surroundings collapsed upon her. It was night. Had time passed? How?! It was just afternoon in the playhouse. What happened?! The air smelled of sulfur and burning and again she thought of Hell. Signs of destruction everywhere. Fires raged beyond the distant walls—so close!—the sky was alight with their glow. Explosions punctuated the night.

  She nearly ran back inside. Strange though the building was, it at least appeared safer than what lay without.

  “We need to get out of here,” Zac said, seemingly unaffected by the chaos. She, on the other hand, was terrified to the point of paralysis. Gripping her hand he pulled her along gently, leading her into the street. As she stepped onto the cobblestones she slipped. He steadied her. Hot grease leaked from an exploded car, burning nearby, and as she felt the slippery heat beneath her feet she noticed her flip-flops were gone. She squeezed Zac’s hand, stepping more carefully, concentrating on pushing away the panic that threatened to send her fleeing into the night.

  But where would she run?

  The thought of that nearly sent her over the edge.

  “Where are we?!” It was a hollow question. There were no answers. “Where’s that thing?!” she cast about, looking all around, suddenly convinced of what they had to do. “That device!” They just had to twist it again. “It can take us back!” She looked over her shoulder through the open door behind them. “Did we leave it up there?!” She almost went.

  But Zac held her; shook his head. “We dropped it when we fell.” He seemed apologetic. Crushed, even. “It came out of your hand and I couldn’t grab it.”

  No!

  Frantically she looked up and down the street. “Where?” He in turn scanned the immediate area, trying to decide their best course of action. Trying, it seemed, to remember his connection to this place. Strong, tall, her hand in his, the Earth clothes she’d bought him suddenly as out of place on him as they were in the current surroundings. He may have looked like an overgrown high-schooler, but all at once he had the bearing of something much more.

  “We have to find it,” she insisted. She felt the hard, greasy cobblestones underfoot, smelled the acrid air; stared wide-eyed at the scene of destruction all around.

  Trying not to hyperventilate.

  There was another car across the street, unscathed. It was black and looked like an old 40’s roadster, chrome pipes curving from a long snout, running back along the bottom edge hot-rod style. The wheels were also chrome, tall with low-profile tires as midnight black as the car itself. Strange as it looked it was familiar enough and, for the moment, a beacon of hope.

  “Could we use that?” she pointed. “Drive around and look for it?” They needed that device. Her voice was on the rise; she couldn’t make herself sound rational. “It must’ve landed in the street somewhere, right?” The street was deserted.

  They had to find it.

  “It fell from way up,” Zac shook his head. “It could be blocks from here. On a roof. Anywhere.”

  “But we have to find it.” Her voice sounded so weak.

  “I have a feeling we need to get out of here first,” Zac was struggling, it seemed, to put together memories. “You’re not safe.”

  She wanted to go home. She almost said it; almost let those pitiful words slip from her mouth, I want to go home! She wanted out of there, now, and with heart-pounding urgency she tugged him across the street to the car and peered in the window. We have to find that thing! The car had a steering wheel and what looked to be pedals for a driver’s feet. An amalgamation of cars she knew, and yet something entirely different. Oddly, the continuing familiarities began to calm her, though only slightly. Wherever they were, there were at least things she could recognize. Perhaps even use. Her heart thudded in her chest.

  Maybe this wasn’t Hell after all.

  She reached to test the door.

  And as she found it to be open the clang of heavy, metallic footfalls reached them from up the street. Several sets of footfalls, hammering the cobblestones with massive weight, moving as if running. She turned in time to see ...

  Three giant robots, ten-feet-tall, jogging around the far corner into view and heading directly for them.

  This may not be Hell, she thought as her mind faded behind a fog of unconsciousness, but it wasn’t Earth.

  It was her last coherent thought as she felt herself sinking slowly to her knees.

  CHAPTER 9: AN IMPOSSIBLE FIGHT

  “Find cover,” Zac instructed, even as he himself stepped to the middle of the street. Jess steadied herself and managed
to stay on her feet, hanging on to consciousness and watching the scene unfolding before her in disbelief. There were three giant robots, with guns, coming at them, and Zac was stepping out to meet them head-on.

  They should both be finding cover.

  They should both be running for their lives.

  The robots drew closer and slowed. At least three feet taller than Zac, they were black with gold markings—many of which looked to be Japanese—covered with strange insect-like images, armor cut like muscles overlaying mechanics. More curious were the extraneous parts, now that she really began to process what she was seeing. Shoulder extensions, skirt-like wraps and winged edges on the helmets.

  Like giant samurai.

  Hydraulics whined as they moved, boots cracking the stones of the street with each strike. Heavy, menacing. They carried long rifles and raised these now. Rifles that were in fact cannons, six-feet-long and as big as a man. Jess could only imagine the impact they’d have. Enough to vaporize Zac, of that she was sure. Yet he stood before them, insanely defiant, as if knowing something she didn’t, waiting as they slowed to a walk, drawing closer, guns trained directly on him.

  Shaking, she opened the car door and crouched behind it, not believing it would make any difference. If Zac provoked a fight, this was where she would die.

  * *

  Inside the lead Astake powered armor unit the Dominion operator scanned readings on his forward screen. It transmitted the image of the man standing in the street before them, along with the girl who now hid behind a car door, scans scrolling information on each. Both were dressed oddly, definitely not citizens of Osaka. Yet, neither did they have the markings of the enemy Venatres.

  Curious, these two.

  The defiant man stared them down in his clown-like attire and seemed, strangely, to be waiting for them to make a move.