Road Trip: BBQ Delivered with Attitude (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 20)

by Michael Anderle

  “That’s what I’d assume. The Oriceran Great War makes our world wars look like nothing.” Harper related the idea with the casual excitement one might use for discussing of a summer movie. “It’s like boom; America nukes Japan, and no one uses nukes again. It’s been a hundred years and they still haven’t. And nukes don’t even blow up entire countries. The Oricerans were blowing away entire countries and stuff, right? You would know better than I would, given your wife’s into that kind of thing. But you have to figure if they were scared enough that the treaty held for thousands of years, they must have made some of the most dangerous and nastiest things we could possibly imagine.” She glanced at her tracking crystal and kept moving down the tunnel. “Something like that would be crazy-nasty. I mean, if you’re a real jerk, you drop this into a populated area, and now your side has to go through these tunnels one by one, or you have to risk blowing the whole thing up before it really gets rolling, right? It’s a good counter to them just dropping a magical nuke. If they made it just a big hole with guys streaming out, you just send a bunch of elf knights or something to mow them down and head straight to the core.”

  James grunted. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  Autonomous adaptive invasion forcing strategic limitations demonstrates excellent invasion potential, Whispy sent, admiration flavoring his thoughts.

  Of course, you appreciate it. These guys aren’t pound-for-pound as tough as a bonded Vax, but they don’t need to be. Quantity over quality.

  James scoffed, not as happy with the idea as his symbiont. “The Oricerans think they’re so much better than us, but they have all these super-weapons they made and then had to hide after they almost destroyed their planet. My daughter had to fight some giant monster in Seattle they had used in the war. Sometimes I wonder if shit like that’s gonna happen when the gates open wider. They still have their treaty, but we’re only barely holding on.”

  “I read about that thing in Seattle. Crazy. She’s a tough chick, but I suppose that’s not a big surprise. Even if she’s adopted, she’s still a Brownstone.” Harper paused to verify their course as they entered a new intersection. “But I don’t think it’s going to be the same thing here, no matter how wide the gates open. I mean, they had their big war, but they didn’t have another like it for thousands of years. So they’ve learned the secret of peace, right? Not saying we put elves and gnomes in charge of Congress, but when you live that long, you’ve got to have more of a clue, don’t you?”

  “They’ve got a lot of people messing around doing low-level shitty stuff, including elves and gnomes.” James narrowed his eyes. “I’ve met far too many Oriceran pieces of shit to believe they’re any better than humans just because they live longer. From what I’ve read, and Shay’s told me, the war lasted generations. It’d be something we could barely imagine, and this stupid soldier factory is barely functioning at a way lower capacity than it could be in a magic-rich environment. Who knows what happens, say, five hundred years from now, when something like this gets set off? Does Texas cease to exist?”

  Harper rolled her eyes. “You know they say you get out of the world what you put into it, and you’re putting in really dreary vibes, pseudo-Dad. Try to look on the bright side. Magic: cool. New opportunities. New ways of healing people.”

  “And new ways of killing people. Lots of new ways. I have spent most of my adult life dealing with those new ways.”

  Harper blew a raspberry. “That’s like saying technology is bad because they invented guns, bombs, and nukes.”

  “If you hadn’t convinced me to come here, you might not have been able to find anyone,” James suggested. “And this thing might already be overwhelming a nearby town. This shit is dangerous, and this kind of magic is dangerous. The people who made this shit are dangerous. Now, I don’t think they’re any more dangerous than humans, but there are no enlightened races coming to lead us to a golden age. There are just some nice people who live longer and some assholes who live longer.”

  “Your wife must be a saint to put up with you,” Harper murmured.

  Light thuds echoed down the hallway from above. Shadows danced on the wall ahead from one of the tunnels connected to another six-way intersection.

  “Get behind me,” James ordered.

  Harper wagged a finger but complied. “See, now the universe is punishing us for your pessimism.”

  A dense pack of soldiers rushed around the corner. They stopped and raised their hands, opening their palms up flat. The light slowly grew in intensity.

  “What the hell are they doing?” James asked. “Why aren’t they attacking? Recon?”

  Harper backed away. “I don’t know. Maybe you should go over and ask them.”

  Bright orange energy blasts shot from their palms. The volley struck James, exploding against and knocking him to the ground, blowing several smoking craters in his armor. Soil fell from the walls and ceiling, leaving a shallow layer over him. Harper yelped and ducked.

  Adaptation in progress, Whispy declared. Regeneration in progress. The symbiont’s euphoria washed away some of James’ irritation.

  He grunted and got to one knee. “Huh. Nice hit, I’ll give them that.”

  “Ouch.” Harper grimaced. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” James stood, pain spreading over his chest.

  Another volley followed. James grunted. The second attack stung but didn’t knock him over. The pain began to fade.

  High adaptation achieved, his symbiont reported. Regeneration remains in progress.

  James snarled and sprinted toward the soldiers. They spent less time charging up their attacks, instead pelting him with quick shots that stopped stinging after a couple of seconds. He arrived at their line and impaled two with one blow. Their clouds of smoke obscured the others as some clawed at James and others continued firing. The holes in his armor started to fill as he slashed and stabbed his way through the mob of enemies.

  An explosion shook the cavern and he spun around. Harper lay on the ground, grimacing, blood running down the side of her face, and there was a pink glow around her body for a few seconds before it faded. Rock and dirt sealed one of the tunnels.

  A surge from the soldiers forced James’ attention back to the enemies. He extended another blade as he rushed back into the smoke, swinging, slicing and stabbing, his growls and grunts some of the few sounds other than the pop of the enemies’ energy blasts and the scrapes of their claws against his armor. The furious melee in the narrow space finished with him slicing a magical soldier into four pieces, but the choking smoke made it hard to see anything.

  Harper approached, her slender shadow readily distinguishable from the bulkier enemy forms. “Sorry about the distraction, but I had to blow the tunnel. There were like forty of them coming from the other side.”

  “Did you just bury us in here?” James growled.

  “Of course not.” Harper shrugged. “At least, I think not. We came a different way. And even if I did, I’m sure you could dig us out. I’ve seen stuff on the net. I know you can fire a big magic beam.” She coughed on the smoke and waved her hand. Much of it had settled near the ground in a thick obscuring layer. “But we better find the core quickly. You might not care if a hundred of those guys show up at once, but I don’t know how long my shields will hold.” She held up the soot-covered crystal. “I’m pretty sure we’re close anyway.” She jogged forward and motioned for him to follow. “Come on, pseudo-Dad. I’ll make you proud.”

  James went after her. His regeneration had eliminated the pain and repaired most of his armor, but the fact that the soldiers had hurt him twice didn’t escape him. Either they had been holding back previously, or they really were adapting. It made sense. There was no reason to believe the Vax symbionts possessed an ability unique in the universe.

  A few minutes of jogging brought James and Harper to another intersection.

  “Damn it,” she muttered. “I thought we’d get there by now.” She groaned and poi
nted. “Oh, come on, already. This is getting obnoxious.”

  James turned as a horde of soldiers rushed down a connected tunnel. The dim lighting made it difficult to count, but there must have been at least twice as many as the last batch. They raised their palms and fired a massive volley. The shots barely stung this time.

  Near maximum adaptation achieved, Whispy reported.

  “Don’t get killed,” he ordered Harper. “And seal every tunnel but the direction we came from, the one I’m about to go into and the direction we need to go. I’ll go finish them.”

  Whispy, after we finish them off, I’m gonna feed you again, and we’re going extended advanced.

  Kill the enemy, Whispy replied.

  That’s the plan.

  A few minutes later, James made his way down the smoky tunnel, claws on his hands and his helmet surrounding his head. Harper stood in the center of the previous intersection, now even paler than before, having collapsed three of the tunnels.

  Harper patted her backpack. “Just so you know, I’ve only got two more of those particular explosive beans.”

  “Explosive beans? Seriously?”

  “You use what’s useful in my line of work, whether it’s cool or not.” Harper shrugged, then pointed at his helmet. “They getting tougher?”

  “Not so much, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” James indicated another tunnel. “This way?”

  “Yeah.” Harper held out the crystal to verify and nodded before heading forward. “You’re just like them, aren’t you?”

  James walked slightly in front of her, his expanded range of vision making it easy for him to not get too far ahead of his temporary partner. “Like who?”

  “The soldiers the Seasons of Rage create,” Harper explained, gesturing at his armor. “You adapt to things.”

  He didn’t respond. It wasn’t like no one knew that fact, but it wasn’t something most of the international or LA underworld understood. A lot of them just assumed he was ridiculously tough, which was why assholes like Jolly Jonathan sometimes thought they had a chance, with sufficient preparation.

  “You don’t have to admit it,” she continued. “I can tell.” She twirled, a delighted look on her face. “I told you. I’m smart, and I’m good at noticing things. It’s one of the reasons I’ve been able to gather the collection of artifacts I have. I've never been the toughest, most ruthless, or strongest woman, but I have a fine and keen eye for details others miss. It’s not like me knowing that will help me. Even if I wanted to sell the information, you’ve spent years as a bounty hunter. You’ve probably adapted to almost anything anyone can think of.”

  James grunted. “Let’s drop the sub—” A half-dozen soldiers rushed down their original tunnel toward Harper’s back. He spun and charged the woman.

  She threw up her hands. “Pseudo-Dad, we can work this…” Her voice trailed off as James rushed past her in time to take the blasts from the soldiers.

  He raised his arm and charged a cannon blast, then carved through the enemy with a sustained green energy beam.

  “Woah,” Harper declared. “That could have hurt.”

  James growled. “We’re running out of time. Let’s go.”

  Harper swallowed and sped up. They passed through two additional intersections before their next tunnel widened. The air shimmered and crackled at the mouth of the tunnel, which led to a vast spherical chamber. Six small glowing stone pyramids of different colors from red to indigo hovered in the center of the chamber. It was otherwise featureless, except for the small dais on the opposite end.

  “That’s the core,” Harper announced, pointing at the dais. “It was on the surface when I left. I just need to jam this crystal in there and sing the sequence.”

  “’Sing the sequence?’” James looked at her like she’d lost her mind. She’d sung earlier, but he’d thought she was just quirky.

  “I didn’t build it.” Harper shrugged, looking more amused than worried.

  “If that’s the core, where do they make the soldiers?” James asked.

  “In the little soldier nursery?” She shrugged and laughed. “I don’t know. Before, they just appeared behind me. Besides, in a couple of minutes, it won’t matter anymore.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a small clay tablet with crude pictographs. “This little non-paying gig is using up most of my best gear, but we need to get past that shield first, so here it goes.” She hurled the tablet at the mouth of the tunnel.

  The tablet exploded into thousands of slivers and the entire tunnel shook. The shimmers and crackling stopped.

  James rushed forward, looking around for enemies but seeing nothing. “This should be easy. I’ll just guard the door while you do your pop-star impression.”

  A ray of energy shot from each pyramid toward the dais. Each ray terminated on the ground about a yard apart. New soldiers shimmered into existence in different locations. While they were similar in appearance to James’ previous foes, each was the color of its source pyramid and twice the height of a standard soldier.

  High potential for additional adaptation, Whispy suggested.

  “Well, that’s not very fair,” Harper muttered.

  “Watch the back tunnel,” James ordered. “Seal it if you need to. You’re right. If necessary, I’ll try to dig us out of here, but we might get flanked while I fight the officers here, or whatever you want to call them.”

  Harper folded her arms and tapped her foot, wearing an impatient look on her face. “Hurry up, pseudo-Dad. This is beginning to get a little annoying.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Okay, what do we got? Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple, huh? Almost all the colors of the rainbow. It’s time for them to taste some pain.

  James stomped forward, sweeping his blades back and forth to aim at his different enemies. The officers all slowly spread apart, forming a growing half-moon. They lifted their arms, their palms glowing brighter with each movement, but like their smaller cousins, they didn’t talk or make any sort of vocalization.

  “Come on, assholes,” he shouted. “Let’s see if you got anything new. Big, impressive Oriceran death factory. You can’t handle one James Brownstone. Does this mean I would have won the Great War by myself?”

  All six officers fired at once, producing a loud, resounding pop. The blow struck James, and the resulting massive explosion enveloped him. He hissed in pain as he flew through the air. His flight ended in a collision with a wall, and he fell to the ground with holes pitting his armor all over and deep burns covering his exposed flesh.

  Fuckers. Can’t take a little trash talk?

  Yessssss, Whispy cheered. New adaptations in progress. Regeneration in progress.

  James growled and hopped back to his feet, his entire body now an open nerve. “Congratulations, assholes. This is the best workout I’ve gotten in almost ten years, but the rule is, you take me down on the first hit or you don’t take me down at all. Now it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

  The officers fired again. James grunted and jerked back as shots exploded around him again. This time, the attack didn’t sear off any armor, but it did sting, and aggravated his existing injuries.

  High adaptation achieved, Whispy reported. Rerouting some resources to regeneration.

  The pain lessened but didn’t vanish. James crouched and leapt into the air, barely avoiding another volley that blew a massive chunk out of the wall and elicited a yelp from Harper in the tunnel. His arc took him toward the yellow officer, and as he fell, he pointed his blades at the chest of the magically conjured opponent.

  James snarled as his blades struck the yellow warrior and bounced off with a clang. The enemies quickly surrounded him and began rapid-firing at point-blank range. The attacks stung, but proved more distracting than deadly. He swung a blade at the green officer, and while it managed to cut the outer layer of his enemy, it still didn’t penetrate into the chest.

  Offensive adaptation in progress, Whispy reported. Recommend
additional attacks for adjustment. Other adaptations in progress. Regeneration in progress.

  Several of the officers clawed at him, but their attacks scraped across the surface of his armor, making unpleasant noises but not doing much damage. James spun and delivered a solid kick to the purple officer, sending him flying before charging right into the green officer and bowling him over.

  The opening allowed him to escape the firing cage. Much of his pain had dulled, and thin layers of armor now covered all previously exposed wounds. Tendrils continued to flow into the other holes to fill in the damage.

  They don’t know who they’re fucking with. That should be on my tombstone if I ever die. Here lies James Brownstone. Nobody knew who they were fucking with.

  Engage and kill the enemy, Whispy demanded. High levels of adaptation achieved in current battle situation.

  If a giddy cheer had a mental texture, the symbiont’s current projected feelings were close.

  The officers all backed away, not launching any new attacks and staying close to the dais. There went James’ secondary plan of drawing them away while Harper shut the system down.

  He roared in frustration. They might not be hurting him much, but his attacks weren’t accomplishing a lot either. It’d been a long time since that was a problem.

  If I fed you everything I’ve got, can we go Forerunner?

  Very low probability of success. Require substantial external power supplementation, Whispy reported.

  Fine. We’ll fuck these bastards up just with extended advanced.

  James threw up his blades and begin charging a twin beam attack. He wasn’t ready to lose. It was just a matter of attacking until he adapted to the enemy. The Vax weren’t feared through the galaxy because they lost. They were the kind of beings you blew up entire cities, if not planets, to stop. He couldn’t lose to some Oriceran war factory.

  The purple officer turned in Harper’s direction and raised his arms, powering up his own attack. James released his beams, and the combined blast punched through the enemy’s chest and launched the magical creation backward. It started turning into dust before it hit the ground.