“I’m the one you want,” Alex said. “I’m Alexander.”
The Khan sneered. “Prove it. Chuluun, kill the boy.”
Chuluun swung his sword, but an unseen force stopped the blade in midair, just short of Ross’s neck. A dark laugh escaped the Khan’s lips as he looked at Alex. The teen’s hair ruffled in the wind created by the psychic energy around him.
Temujin clapped slowly and took two steps toward his adversary. “Impressive… for a mere child.”
“That’s nothing,” said Alex. “Wait until you see this!”
Alex raised his arm and Lindsey’s captor was flung into the air. The angry teen swiped his arm across his body and the Horde trooper sailed across the room. The man struck the wall with a sickening crack that silenced his shrill screams and fell to the floor, his neck broken.
Temujin laughed. “A child with toy soldiers.”
Unable to contain his anger, Alex stepped forward and, focusing all of his rage into a single burst of energy, thrust it forward at Temujin. The blast struck him hard in the chest, knocking him off balance, but the warlord kept his footing and sneered.
“Very good.” Temujin nodded with approval. “My turn.”
Temujin thrust his hand into the air, and Alex felt the ground abruptly pulled out from under him as he was lifted into the air by the superior power of the Khan’s mind. Temujin curled his fingers together in a half-fist, and Alex screamed as his body was wracked with terrible pain, suspended helpless, over fifteen feet in the air. His body became enveloped in searing hot, blue waves of electricity and his screams grew louder. The lightning poured from his eyes like electric tears.
“Yes,” Temujin roared. “This is the one! You are the child I seek!”
“Lamont!” Alex screamed, unable to project his call through the intense pain. “Moe! Help me!”
“Scream all you want, boy.” The Khan laughed and closed his fist tighter, sending new waves of pain into Alex’s body. “No one is coming to save you. You are alone now!”
“Quintin!” The tears streaming down Alex’s cheeks boiled and evaporated in the heat. “Father!”
Through the pain, Alex heard Crystal crying out his name, her voice hoarse from the screaming. Suddenly the pain ceased, and Alex fell to the floor in a moaning, smoking heap.
“Help… me,” he groaned. “Please.”
A shadow fell over him, and Alex looked up through burning eyes to see the cloudy form of Temujin standing over him.
“How does it feel, boy?” Temujin jeered. “True power? The power of God! Perhaps you would have attained it if you lived long enough.”
Across the room, Crystal fought against the holds of several girls trying to restrain her and cried out, “Alex!”
::Crystal,:: Alex projected desperately. ::Don’t!::
But Temujin intercepted the mental message and turned to look at the girl. “Crystal? Come to me, my dear.”
One of the soldiers grabbed Crystal by the hair and dragged her to where the Khan stood waiting and Alex rolled on the floor in agony. Crystal sobbed as she drew closer. The smell of burnt flesh and hair hung heavy in the air. She tried to run to him, but the hand tangled in her hair jerked suddenly, yanking her away, even as she reached out to touch his prone form. Temujin took hold of her by the arm and pulled her closer to him.
“See your beloved hero?” he whispered in her ear. “See how far he has fallen?”
The putrid stench of yak’s milk lingering on the Khan’s breath reached her nostrils, and Crystal tasted bile rising in the back of her throat. “A-Alex!”
“She’s not part of this,” Alex moaned.
Temujin sneered. “She’s yours.”
“Let her go!”
“Or what, hero?” Temujin mocked.
His muscles burning, Alex reached behind his back, drew a plasma pistol from the waistband of his jeans, and aimed it at the Khan’s head with a trembling hand. The captive students gasped.
“I’ll kill you,” Alex croaked. “You son-of-a-bitch, I swear to God I’ll kill you.”
“Put that away, boy.” Temujin swatted the air with his hand and sent the pistol flying. “You might hit the girl.”
Alex watched the pistol fly from his hand and skitter under the bleachers, hopelessly out of reach. He reached out to try to retrieve it, but he was too weak. His powers were gone.
Temujin sneered as he brushed his gloved fingers through Crystal’s mussed hair. “I wouldn’t want you to damage the newest addition to my harem.”
“No,” Alex growled. “Don’t you touch her!”
Temujin brushed his lips against the sobbing girl’s ear. “Perhaps I’ll let you watch before you die. Would you like that?”
“No!” Alex rose awkwardly to his hands and knees and prepared to lunge at his enemy.
Chuluun kicked, striking Alex square in the jaw with his boot. Alex tumbled over backwards from the force of the impact and fell hard onto his back, unconscious before he even hit the ground. Temujin shoved Crystal into the arms of the nearest soldier.
“Take her,” he said. “Prepare the Ragnarok for departure. We have what we came for… and more.”
“No!” Crystal shrieked and struggled against the soldier. “Alex! Oh, God! Alex, wake up!”
Temujin shushed her with a finger to her lips. “Hush, child. It will all be over soon.”
“What of the boy, my lord?” asked Chuluun.
Temujin turned to leave. “Bring him, of course.”
“And the TDC?”
Temujin paused and smiled at the general. “I don’t think they will be a problem, Chuluun. The alien saw to that for us.”
“What if he shows up here, my lord? Captain Sukh reported that he escaped to the north on one of the supply trains.”
Temujin smirked. “Let him come. What can he possibly do to stop us now?”
*****
Shania Twain poured out of tinny speakers, filling the cab with insufferable, inane lyrics. Sam rolled his eyes. At least it was a change from his traveling companion’s flood of questions.
The truck driver, a chatty fellow named Floyd, had picked him up hitchhiking a few miles south of Cedar Rapids. Floyd, glad to have someone to talk to while hauling hogs to a slaughterhouse in northern Missouri, had been more than happy to pick up the ragged hitchhiker. The Replodian couldn’t decide which was more offensive to his senses: the music or the stench. He wondered if he had just enough evil left in him to kill the man.
Floyd pointed to a sign beside the road and, through a mouthful of beef jerky, said, “That’s it, ain’t it?”
Sam sat up straight and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Turn right here.”
“You got it.” The trucker turned the smelly rig off of the interstate onto the two-lane country road. “How much farther?”
“About ten miles.”
Suddenly Floyd looked into one of his side mirrors and shouted, “Whoa, lookit that!”
Sam looked over as five Iowa State Troopers whipped around the eighteen-wheeler with their lights flashing and sirens blaring. The engines roared as the cars rocketed to the west toward East Van Buren High School.
“I’m too late,” Sam whispered.
“Huh?” Floyd twisted the volume knob on the radio, silencing Shania. “You say somethin’?”
The Replodian disappeared into the back.
Floyd twisted in his seat, taking his eyes off the road to watch his passenger. “Hey! Where you goin’?”
Sam returned a moment later with his oversized duffle bag and unzipped it. After a moment of shuffling the contents, he pulled out his stolen plasma rifle and pressed the energy primer, bringing the weapon to life.
“Whoa,” Floyd shouted, pressing his body against the door. “What the hell is that thing? Hey, I don’t want any trouble, Sam!”
“Shut up, Floyd,” said Sam, using the man’s name for the first time in nearly a hundred miles. “Put the hammer down or whatever you guys do, and follow those cops.”
“But, I—”
Sam cocked the rifle and a loud hum filled the cab. “Do it!”
“All right!” Floyd shifted gears and stepped on the accelerator. “No need to get testy, pal.”
Floyd pushed the rig to its limit, passing several other vehicles as they barreled down the road toward the school. It didn’t take long before they saw the thick black smoke rising in the distance. Sam slammed the butt of the rifle into the dash and cursed.
Floyd chanced a brief glance at his passenger. “Mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ on, partner?”
“Just drive the truck, Floyd.” Sam fought back the tears flooding his eyes. “Just drive the damn truck.”
A few agonizing minutes later, the school came into view, and Sam ordered Floyd to pull over in front of the driveway. The truck had barely come to a complete stop when Sam threw the door open. A rocket fired by one of the mechs destroyed one of the highway patrol cars, sending it into the air in a long arc before it nearly fell on a group of cops firing futilely at the robots.
Floyd cringed. “Sweet Jesus!”
Sam jumped out of the truck and ran down the long driveway toward the parking lot.
“Wait,” Floyd yelled. “You can’t go out there! You’re goin’ to get yourself killed!”
“I’m the only one who can stop them,” Sam shouted. “Get as far away from here as you can, Floyd!”
“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Floyd reached over and pulled the passenger door shut.
As the truck pulled away, Sam ran as fast as his legs would carry him; the heavy bag on his back banged against his body with every footfall. He skidded to a halt as one of the mechs flung an overturned car aside to reveal three deputies and the sheriff huddling behind it. Two of the deputies ran while the older sheriff tried desperately to drag the severely wounded third deputy out of harm’s way.
“Stay back,” the sheriff yelled as he dragged the man by his shirt collar with one hand and fired his pistol at the robot with the other. “I’m warning you!”
The mech tore the deputy from the sheriff’s grasp with one clawed hand and flung him aside into a lamp pole, breaking his spine. The robot then raised one of its feet and brought it down on Challis’s legs, crushing them. The sheriff cried out as it leaned down and examined him curiously like a dog with a wounded grasshopper.
In a desperate act of defiance, the sheriff spat on the robot’s black sensor eye. The mech brought back one of its arms to strike the finishing blow.
Sam leapt into the air as the mech brought its claws down toward its prey. His foot struck the sensor eye, and the robot stumbled back slightly from the impact. It sent out its scanning beam to scrutinize the Replodian, then stepped back, its arm cannons trained on its new target.
“Samrai,” the mech growled.
“That’s right, you convoluted pile of scrap,” Sam snarled as he raised his own weapon. “Come and meet your maker.”
The mech stepped forward and opened fire with its arm cannons, but Sam sidestepped and unleashed his own barrage of plasma bolts, which bounced off the advancing Death Walker’s armor. Sam leapt into the air over the line of fire, landed on top of the mech’s body, and clung to the hot metal. His fingers dug into a ridge in the robot’s armor, and he braced his legs below the sensor eye.
He pressed the barrel of the plasma rifle against the eye. “Scan this, you son-of-a-bitch!”
He squeezed the trigger and the air between him and the mech became a strobe of red plasma fire. Sam screamed as some of the blast fragments ricocheted back and tore through his body, leaving ragged, glowing yellow holes in their wake.
“Crack, you mother,” he growled. “Crack!”
Finally the eye cracked, and the Death Walker recoiled, bucking wildly. Sam tossed the rifle aside, punched his fist through the broken eye, and dug his hand around inside while the mech tried desperately to shake him off. Finally his fingers closed around a bundle of wires, and he savagely wrenched on them.
“Shit. Ought. Not. Resist. Me!” He pulled out the handful of multicolored wiring.
The Death Walker convulsed, and Sam fell to the ground, landing on his feet and still clutching the bundle of wires in his fist. The mech teetered and flailed its mechanical arms.
“Fall,” Sam said. “Fall!”
The robot fell forward onto the pavement, caving in its armored nose. Smoke poured out of the shattered sensor eye, and the mech shuddered for a moment before it became permanently still. Sam tossed the wires to the ground and ran to Sheriff Challis, who was convulsing and clutching his broken legs.
Challis gaped at Sam as his glowing wounds began to close. “What are you?”
“Don’t talk.” Sam knelt to examine the sheriff’s injuries. “You’re going into shock. You need medical attention now.”
“No paramedics,” Challis’s voice grew weaker. “On their w….”
“Don’t worry.” Sam gingerly scooped the wounded lawman into his arms. “I know the best doctor on the planet.”
Sam turned and scanned the parking lot for any sign of his brothers. “Lamont! Where are you?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Quintin popped up from behind a police car, fired three quick shots at the back of a nearby Death Walker, and quickly dropped back down before the robot’s retaliatory fire shredded the car’s front end. He checked his weapon and cursed. Half a blast pack and he hadn’t put so much as a scratch on the metal bastard.
He pulled a grenade out of his jacket pocket, mashed the plunger with his thumb, and counted to three softly in Phaedojian before chucking it over the top of the car. The mech locked onto it with its sensor eye and fired a short burst from its arm cannons. The grenade exploded in mid-air, and the shockwave hit Quintin like a hammer even behind the burned-out husk of the squad car. Sensing no movement, the mech turned and focused on other activity.
Quintin dug three more grenades out of his pocket and stood to shout at the departing mech, “Hey! Don’t you turn your back on me!”
The Death Walker quickly swiveled at the waist to face him again and took aim, its legs stepping slowly to match the direction of the torso.
Quintin mashed the plungers and tossed all three grenades at the robot. “Think fast!”
The mech adjusted its aim accordingly and shot two of them out of the air, but the third went untracked in the explosions and detonated mere inches from the sensor eye. The mech staggered back a step, its stance unsteady on its sidestepping legs. When the smoke cleared, Quintin saw a scorch mark covering the robot’s entire face, but more importantly, there was a hairline crack in the eye. The mechanical monster growled and flexed its claws as it advanced.
“Uh oh,” said Quintin. “Now I’ve done it.”
As he fumbled for his rifle, twin plasma blasts sliced through the air around his shoulders. The mech staggered back from the continuous string of impacts. Rene and Cherry appeared at Quintin’s side, firing on the robot with their rifles.
“Quintin,” Cherry shouted, “get out of there!”
“Move, boy!” said Rene.
Quintin nodded and looked around him for an escape route, but froze when his eyes fell on the entrance to the school and saw the two guards stationed there walking away.
“They’re leaving!” Quintin shouted.
Rene cocked his head toward the boy, straining to hear over the gunfire. “What?”
“The Horde is leaving,” said Quintin. “Now’s our chance.”
“Leave it to the Replodians, Quintin,” said Cherry. “Now get out of here!”
“No.” Quintin shook his head. “Alex needs me.”
He slid over the cruiser’s hood and ran for the front doors at full speed, deftly hurdling large chunks of debris along the way as bullets raked the ground.
“Quintin!” Cherry dropped her rifle to chase after him. “Come back!”
“No, Cheryl!” Rene grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Cheryl, no! Don’t draw attention to him!”
“You bastard! Let me go!”
“No!” Rene grabbed both of her arms and shook her. “Listen to me! It’s time you let the boy become a man. The best thing we can do for him is keep these things busy so he can get away.”
Cherry looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. “I hate you, Rene Boudreaux.”
“I know, cher,” he said. “But you can hate me later. Right now I need you to fight!”
“Rene…” Cherry’s shoulders heaved as she sobbed. “He’s my—”
The blind mech followed the sound of their voices and unleashed a salvo of heavy fire between their feet.
“Son of a bitch!” Rene shouted.
The two Methuselans raised their rifles and resumed their assault on the metal giant.
“Run, Quintin,” Cherry called. “Don’t stop!”
*****
Quintin couldn’t hear Cherry’s cries over the sound of an exploding grenade behind him as he jumped over an overturned garbage barrel near the entrance. He raised his rifle and fired a three-round burst at the doors, shattering the glass and twisting the steel frames. Once inside, he looked down both halls and chose the path to the right.
The gymnasium doors opened, and two Hordesmen entered the hall holding Alex’s unconscious body by the arms, his feet dragging lifelessly along the floor. Quintin slung his rifle over his shoulder and ran toward the soldiers.
“Hey!” he shouted.
The soldiers turned and dropped Alex. While they fumbled for their weapons, Quintin leapt into the air, kicking one in the face and shoving the other’s head into the brick wall. Both fell to the ground unconscious. Quintin rushed to his brother’s side and carefully turned him onto his back. He winced at the burns and blood covering his face.
“Alex!” Quintin lightly slapped his brother on the cheek. “Alex, wake up!”
Slowly, Alex opened his eyes and blinked. “Quintin?”
“What happened?”
Alex struggled to sit up, and Quintin propped him up against the wall. “It’s Temujin. He’s here.”
“Are you okay?”
“No,” said Alex, holding his head. “He took Crystal.”
Birthright: Book I of the Temujin Saga Page 17
