“We’ve got to do something,” said Cherry.
“Damn straight.” Sam engaged his boot thrusters.
“We have to keep traffic off the bridge,” said Robert. “Rene, Cherry, you come with me.”
*****
Sam landed on the street in front of the bridge and waved his arms at the bus, but the driver was too busy reprimanding rowdy children to notice the armor-clad alien until the bus was practically on top of him. The driver slammed on the brakes, but it was far too late. The front of the bus struck the Replodian and knocked him flat on his back before coming to a skidding halt on the bridge.
The driver opened the door and ran to the front of the bus, sputtering, “Oh, my God! I didn’t see you. Are you all r— What the hell?”
Sam got to his feet and pointed at the bus. “Back this bus up! Get it off the bridge now!”
The deafening roar of the descending Ragnarok filled the air, and the ship struck the bridge in an explosion of concrete and twisted metal. One of the wings swept the northernmost support out from under the bridge, and the ground beneath Sam’s feet dropped sharply. The shrieks of over thirty terrified children joined the cacophony created by the Ragnarok, which was still grinding along the bed of the Des Moines River. Sam fired his boot thrusters and pushed against the front of the bus, trying to push it back onto level ground. The bus driver screamed as the road slanted and he slid on his back toward the river, which was now nothing but flaming, jagged debris.
Sam reached for the driver, his fingers mere inches out of reach. “No!”
A silver streak swooped through the air and grabbed the flailing driver under the arms.
“I’ve got you,” said Moe. “Don’t worry.”
“Y-you g—” the driver stuttered, looking down at the ground whizzing past below his kicking feet. “Huh?”
Sam grunted as the section of bridge under the bus’s front wheels fell away, leaving the full weight on his shoulders. Slowly, the bus slid farther down, the bottom of the frame scraping against the jutting concrete ledge. The Replodian boosted the power to his thrusters, and watched the power gauge drop steadily from the exertion.
The sound of breaking glass drew Sam’s attention up to the windshield. A little blond-haired girl of around six years old was lying against the glass, shrieking as the crack in the window slowly spider-webbed outward. Several yellow dots lit up Sam’s heads-up display: stress points in the glass.
“Hang on, sweetie,” Sam said, trying his best to sound calm. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Just then, the thrusters failed momentarily, and the bus dropped another few feet. The girl shrieked as the force of her second impact against the safety glass caused it to bow outward. Tiny fragments of glass rained on Sam’s armor.
“Hold on!” Sam shouted, increasing the thrusters’ power to maximum.
“I’m coming, Sam,” Moe’s voice rang out over the comm channel.
“Hurry!”
The back tires bumped against the edge of the concrete, briefly stopping the bus’s descent. The jarring impact caused the windshield to pull free of its frame, sending the shrieking girl plummeting, but this time, Sam was faster and snatched the girl’s wrist.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he gasped, holding the entire bus up on one shoulder. “I’ve got you.”
Suddenly, the weight lifted slightly from his shoulder and a welcome and familiar voice sounded in his ear, “I’ve got your back, bro.”
The little girl squealed and kicked in the air, her little fingers clinging desperately to Sam’s forearm. Stinging sweat dripped into his eyes. The girl’s wrist slipped between his fingers, and Sam knew he couldn’t hold both her and the bus much longer. Then a pair of silver hands appeared in front of his eyes, and the bus lifted up a little bit more.
“Take the girl,” said Cherry. “I’ll hold the bus.”
Sam considered this, taking note of the rapidly dropping power levels of his thrusters, but decided against it. Cherry’s inexperience with the armor’s functions was a liability. No one knew the suits better than him.
“No,” he said. “You take her and get her somewhere safe.”
“You’re hurt,” Cherry replied. “I can tell.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Don’t argue. Just do it. I can hold it.”
Cherry hesitated, trying to read him through the black visor.
“Hurry,” he grunted, his voice tired and pleading. “Please.”
Reluctantly, Cherry released the bus, settling the weight back onto Sam’s shoulder, and dropped down to hover beside the frightened girl.
“Come here, sweetheart,” she said, holding out her hands.
The girl’s eyes widened as she stared at the flying woman reaching for her and she looked up at Sam questioningly.
Sam nodded. “It’s okay, sweetie. She’s my friend.”
Cherry wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist, and the child settled onto her hip. With his arm free, Sam slammed his hand back onto the front of the bus. The suddenness of the movement startled the girl, and she squealed, clinging to Cherry’s neck.
“Go,” Sam grunted. “I don’t know how much longer we can hold this.”
“You said you could hold it!” Cherry said.
“I lied. Go!”
In a flash of thruster fire, both Cherry and the little girl were gone.
Sam opened a private comm channel. “Moe?”
“I’m here, Sam.”
“Listen to me very carefully. I want you to grab the children. Take them out through the emergency exit on your end and get them the hell out of here.”
“I won’t leave you,” Moe answered.
“God damn it, Moe, get the children out, now!”
There was silence over the channel for a moment, and then Moe responded, “No. We’re doing this together.”
Moe increased the power to his thrusters, slowly lifting the bus up and back onto the street. Sam pushed against the front, inching the bus over the concrete. An alarm rang out inside his helmet, and a synthesized female voice said, “Warning. System failure imminent. Thruster power: ten percent.”
“Moe,” he shouted. “I’m losing power!”
*****
Moe increased the power to his thrusters to maximum and pulled with his arms simultaneously, combining the armor’s power with his raw alien strength. He snarled as the joints in his suit groaned and popped under the strain. He blinked away the sweat and ignored the icons flashing in his visor.
Finally the bus leveled out and the rear tires touched solid ground. Moe disengaged his thrusters and pulled the bus back onto the street. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of pulling, the front tires rolled onto the pavement and the bus sat stationary.
Moe ripped the back door off its hinges. “All right, kids. Everybody out.”
The words barely passed his lips before a stream of crying and screaming children exploded from the back of the bus. When the last child climbed down, Moe stepped out from behind the bus and walked right into Sam. He stared at Moe for a moment and punched him in the shoulder, throwing sparks.
“Hey!” Moe exclaimed.
Sam staggered and pointed at his brother. “I told you to leave me and get those kids out!”
“We’re a team, Sam. No one gets left behind.”
Sam’s exhaustion caught up to him, and he sank to the ground. “I don’t know about you, little sister, but I could really use a hot one right now.”
Moe laughed and sat next to his brother. “Roger that.”
A crowd gathered on the sidewalk. None were brave enough to approach the gleaming, armored men reclining against the bus tire. Camera flashes danced across the brothers’ vision as the onlookers held up their phones to document the event.
“Smile, little sister,” Sam said, nudging Moe with his shoulder. “You’re on YouTube.”
Moe laughed.
The crowd of onlookers parted, and Cherry and the little girl — her fingers
still wrapped tightly around Cherry’s index and middle fingers — stepped out into the street.
Sam stood and stepped away from the bus to meet them. He knelt in front of the little girl. For a moment, she only stared into the blank, black visor covering his eyes, but suddenly she darted forward and wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could. Hesitantly, Sam returned the embrace, placing one armored hand gently behind her tiny back.
“Thank you, Mr. Robot Man,” she said, her voice soft and timid.
Warmth flooded the Replodian’s body as he closed his eyes to fight back the tears welling up in them. “You’re welcome, angel. You’re very, very welcome.”
One of the onlookers began to clap, a contagious sound that spread throughout the crowd. Moments later, Rene and Robert arrived to renewed shouts of awe and curiosity from the assembled crowd. Sam noticed the ion cannons on Robert’s arms were smoking and looked across the river. Through the smoke, he could just make out the giant oak laying across the road, as well as the crowd of curiosity seekers clamoring over it for a closer look at the carnage.
Robert took in the damage. “What a mess. Where are Lamont and Alex?”
Sam looked at him over the girl’s shoulder. “They’re not with you?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Good luck,” said Lamont to Robert.
The elevator doors slid shut, sealing Alex and Lamont off from the sounds of battle raging in the corridor, and they began their ascent to the Khan’s private chambers. Alex’s pulse thumped in his ears, and a bead of sweat trickled down his nose, triggering a blast of cool air inside his helmet that brought the temperature to a more tolerable level.
Alex’s eyes flicked to the translucent display on his visor:
SYSTEM STATUS:
WEAPON SYSTEMS: 95%
ARMOR INTEGRITY: 98%
THRUSTERS: 92%
So much power. How much differently would the day’s events have gone if they’d had them from the beginning, or not at all for that matter? Without them, he and his friends would have been red smears in the school parking lot.
And Crystal would be lost forever.
The thought made Alex’s breathing quicken. When he got his hands on Temujin—
Lamont laid a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down. Focus. Remember what Moe taught you and you’ll do fine.”
Alex took a deep breath and nodded.
As the lift slowed and came to a complete stop, Lamont primed his arm cannon. “Ready, Alex?”
Alex primed his own and flexed his fingers. “Let’s do this.”
The doors slid open, and they stepped out, training their weapons ahead of them at the open door leading to the Khan’s chambers. They could hear laughter from within. Two Horde troopers stood just inside the doorway with their plasma rifles aimed at something on the floor.
“Hey!” Alex shouted.
The sentries whirled around and raised their weapons to fire, but were caught off guard by the bizarre suits. Alex fired an ion blast into the chest of the closest soldier; he was dead before he hit the floor.
A girl’s scream rang out from the room as the second sentry fired, pelting Alex’s armor with plasma bolts. The shots pushed him back slightly, but he kept his footing and raised his arm cannon to return fire. Lamont was already on the move, however, and delivered a bone-crushing uppercut into the man’s chin. The force of the blow slammed the soldier into the top of the doorway and he crumpled to the deck.
With the soldiers down, Alex finally had an unobstructed view of the chamber. His heart jumped in his chest when he saw his girlfriend cuffed and crying over the bleeding body of his twin.
“Quintin!” He rushed to their side.
Alex knelt beside Crystal and examined his brother’s injuries. His pulse throbbed in his ears louder than ever as his fingers grazed the deep, smoking wounds.
He turned to look at Crystal. “Are you okay?”
Crystal sniffled. “They killed him.”
“No,” said Alex, not believing his ears. “That’s not possible.”
He placed a hand against his brother’s bloody chest and a holographic image of a human heart appeared in the middle of his visor; it wasn’t beating. The E.K.G. below the image was flat-lined and unresponsive. The steady, high-pitched tone ringing in his ears confirmed the terrible truth before his eyes.
“Quintin,” he sobbed, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. “Lamont, do something!”
Lamont knelt beside him and placed his fingertips against Quintin’s throat, but pulled his hand away an instant later, shaking his head despondently.
“I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s gone.”
“No!” Alex sobbed as he hugged his brother’s limp body and tears splashed against the inside of his visor. “Quintin! Quintin, come back!”
“Who are you people?”
Alex froze. He knew that voice. His sorrow faded, replaced with a burning hatred. His head snapped up to face his enemy, his brother’s blood smeared across the front of his helmet.
“You.” He pointed at Temujin with an accusing, armored finger. “You did this.”
“Who are you?” Temujin pointed the unlit laser sword at Alex and Lamont in turn. “How did you get on this ship?”
“We had a little help from a mutual friend,” said Lamont, standing and moving away from the body. “We made him a better offer, one that doesn’t involve the slaughter of innocent children.”
“Samrai,” Temujin whispered vehemently. “Then that must make you the infamous TDC.” He emphasized each letter with an air of contempt.
Alex flexed his fingers, itching to wrap them around the Khan’s throat.
Chuluun drew his sword. “Infidels!”
While this exchange was going on, Alex didn’t notice the E.K.G. monitoring his brother’s pulse — now minimized in the bottom left corner of his visor — had begun to register a steady beat. He didn’t see Quintin’s fingers slowly inching toward the discarded sword belonging to one of the dead sentries. Slowly, Alex stood and clenched his fists.
“You killed him,” he growled, taking one slow step toward his enemy, his hands shaking with grief and rage. “You killed my brother! You son-of-a-bitch, I’ll kill you!”
Temujin took a cautionary step back from the armored terror slowly advancing on him. “Your brother?”
::You should have killed me when you had the chance,:: Alex projected, sending waves of wrath with the message.
As the words reached the Khan’s mind, the room began to shake. Ornaments and paintings fell from the walls as the very metal plating they were made of creaked and buckled. The air around them hummed with the energy being released.
“You,” Temujin breathed. “Chuluun, it’s the child! Kill him!”
At these words, Quintin’s eyes snapped open, glowing a fiery, radioactive green. His fingers wrapped around the handle of the sword, and he sprang to his feet, meeting Chuluun halfway; their swords clashed and threw sparks as they collided. Chuluun’s eyes widened as he fought back against the youth’s blade, their strength evenly matched.
“Quintin,” Alex cried gleefully. The shaking immediately ceased as the teen’s concentration was broken.
Shocked by Quintin’s inexplicable resurrection, Crystal’s eyes rolled back and she collapsed to the deck. Alex knelt at her side and snapped the handcuffs binding her wrists.
“Impossible,” Chuluun grunted. “I saw you die.”
“Believe it,” Quintin replied. “You’ll have to aim a little higher if you want to get rid of me, pal.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Chuluun snarled, pushing off of Quintin’s blade and preparing to strike. “Freak!”
Suddenly the ship pitched, and the floor beneath them shook violently, sending everyone sprawling to the deck, but the disruption did not slow the swordsmen, who continued to fight even on the ground.
Alex cradled Crystal in his arms. “What the hell was that?”
/>
“The engines,” said Lamont, holding out his arms to maintain his balance. “Sam did it!”
“You fools,” Temujin shouted, spit flying from his lips. “What have you done?”
As the battle between Chuluun and Quintin raged on, a panicked transmission filled Alex and Lamont’s helmets, “Out! Everybody out, now!”
“Quintin!” Alex scooped Crystal up into his arms and rose to his feet shakily. “We have to go now! This ship’s about to crash!”
“No one is going anywhere,” Temujin snarled. He thumbed the igniter switch on the hilt of the stolen laser sword and swung it in an arc directly in-line with Quintin’s neck.
Alex saw the beam flash out. “Quintin, look out!”
Another explosion rocked the Ragnarok as the second engine exploded, and the Khan was thrown off balance. The white-hot blade missed its target, but instead sliced deep into Quintin’s left cheek. Quintin cried out as both he and Chuluun were thrown to the deck by the force of the explosion. Quintin’s hand flew to his cheek and felt the hot, gaping wound. He grimaced as the wound knitted and healed, leaving a thick white scar in its wake.
Temujin stared at the fresh scar. “Impossible.”
Quintin’s eyes glowed with renewed intensity as he stared back into Temujin’s. “You’ll pay for that.”
Chuluun regained his footing and charged the enraged Methuselan. “My Khan!”
Quintin spun, bringing his blade into the Mongol general’s face and slicing across his left eye. Chuluun screamed and dropped his sword, his hands flying to his ruined face. A third explosion, more powerful than the first two, rocked the ship and smoke began to fill the chamber as Lamont staggered to Quintin’s side.
“We have to go. The ship’s about to crash.”
Quintin pointed at the two Mongol leaders scrambling on the floor. “Not until I see them dead.”
“They’re dead already,” said Lamont. “Come on.”
“How do we get out of here?” asked Quintin.
Lamont pointed toward the ceiling. “Up.”
“Up?” asked Quintin, looking at the large glass-domed skylight above the chamber. The blue sky outside was thick with black smoke. “What do you mean, ‘up’?”
Birthright: Book I of the Temujin Saga Page 22
