Fire Soldiers (The Sentinels Book 3)

by David J Normoyle

  “Sounds like you thought about that a lot.”

  “Of course we have. The recent rise in shades is the greatest existential threat mankind has ever faced. You better believe lots of smart people are covering all the angles and letting us on the front line know enough to do our jobs.”

  “Existential threat. Really? Maybe those smart people are brainwashing those on the front lines.”

  “I’m not stupid?”

  “I didn’t say…”

  Suddenly he grabbed me by the neck and shoved me against the wall. “Hey.” I raised my hand, curling my fingers into an open fist in front, showing that I was ready to summon my firesword. “You shouldn’t do that.”

  “You think I’m scared?” Taylor shouted, his face so close to mine that I could see tiny droplets of spittle expelled from his mouth. “I know you can form your magical fire stick and jam it in my stomach. Go on, then. Do it if you want. Just know that afterward you’ll be plugged so full of titanium that you’ll look like a human pincushion.”

  Behind him his two men raised their crossbows and aimed them at my face.

  I jammed my fingers under his hand, managing to loosen his grip. “I’m not threatening you. You are the one attacking me for no reason.”

  “If you showed a little respect, you wouldn’t need to be manhandled. You’re just a punk.”

  “Doesn’t the Colonel want to talk to me?” My voice came out as a wheeze as Sergeant Taylor continued to squeeze. “I’ll be able to talk better without fingers around my throat.”

  “How’s being a rebellious tearaway worked out for you?” the sergeant asked. “Brought happiness and contentment to yourself and those around you, I hope.”

  An answer to that didn’t come to me.

  “Exactly,” the sergeant said, reading an answer from the expression of my face. He released my throat and stepped back. “Punks,” he said. “Brimming with bravado, thinking that empty rebellion makes them strong. All mouth. The more insecure they are, the bigger they talk. They think shooting their mouth off is bravery. All it is, is hiding how small they are inside.”

  I shook my head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. I don’t think it applies to me.”

  “You can’t fool me. I know your type. I was a punk once, and I’ve trained countless others. They come in thinking they are cock of the walk. And you know what? Ends up they are either strong enough to become a real man, or they wash out and remain punks their whole life. And no prizes for guessing which group ends up happier.”

  “Can I skip the army training and go directly to the punk wash-out gutter?” I asked.

  “You’re still yapping, but I can tell what I said hit home in some way. It’s a start.” The elevator door dinged open. “Come on.”

  Chapter 7

  Tuesday 15:00

  The streets outside the hotel were deserted; the L-SED had to have cordoned off the whole area. I felt an itch in my back, knowing that the two officers who walked behind me were ready with their crossbows and titanium arrows. Closer to Hotel Tiberius, a row of army trucks lined one half of the street. But army trucks with a difference, for these were panelled with bare metal. Black weld marks showed where the panels had been attached, and no attempt had been made to paint the trucks or otherwise hide the metalwork. Maybe the L-SED considered it a mark of pride, or distinction, to leave the trucks presenting bare metal.

  “Titanium shielding?” I asked.

  Sergeant Taylor decided that wasn’t worth answering.

  L-SED officers swarmed the area outside Tiberius. Most held their weapons ready, focused on the row of prisoners being guided out of the hotel and into the back of the army trucks. The shades, who had already looked bedraggled before being captured, were totally cowed. Heads were bowed low, and the only bit of energy they showed was to hurry when urged to by their captors. My heart beat faster as I scanned the faces of the prisoners, but I didn’t see anyone I recognized. No Nathan, no Jo, no Ally. I didn’t even see Ringo. The nudge of a crossbow in my back made me realize I was slowing down, and I caught up with Taylor.

  When a ragged scream came from inside the Tiberius, no one reacted. Not the officers, not the prisoners.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “The sound of discipline.”

  The scream rang out again, louder this time, full of ravaged pain. Several shades flinched, but none turned to look back. I broke away from Taylor and sped across the courtyard to the main door. I skidded to a halt as the two L-SED officers guarding the door raised their crossbows.

  “I’m with Sergeant Taylor.”

  The guards didn’t blink. I had to wait until Taylor caught up with me. He then gave a nod, and the officers moved aside to let me pass. I hurried inside. A small cage occupied the center of the reception area, and L-SED officers were spread out around it. Inside the cage, a blood-streaked figure moaned. It was Ringo. A crossbow fired, and an arrow hit him in his side. He spasmed to the left, and the moan turned into a high-pitched scream.

  I ran over and pushed aside two of the officers closest to the cage, then leaned against the bars. Ringo was inside, shivering and blubbering.

  “‘el’ me.” Blood and spit emerged with the forced syllables. Three arrows were embedded in his torso.

  “Help you. I’ll try. Sergeant Taylor.”

  “No.” Ringo shook his head. “Kell me.”

  Sergeant Taylor came to stand by me. “Shades are pathetic once you strip away their power. If the elemental leaves any human part when they possess a body, it’s only the weakest part.”

  “You can’t be okay about this. It’s torture. You’re not even real army, but even if you were, you’d still be subject to the Geneva Convention.”

  “The Geneva Convention applies to humans,” Sergeant Taylor said. “Not these things.”

  “What do you need from him? Information? I doubt he knows anything.”

  “Colonel,” Sergeant Taylor said, snapping a salute over my shoulder. “I brought the fire sentinel. You wanted to talk to him?”

  I swiveled around. “Please, you have to put a stop to this. He doesn’t know anything.”

  “What’s going on here?” Lowndes asked sharply and approached the cage. “Have you guys been…” She reached in and twisted the arrow, drawing another pitiful scream. “…hurting the poor little thing.”

  Lowndes grinned, and everyone except me laughed.

  I stared in horror. “But why?”

  “Someone tell me what this creature did to deserve this,” Lowndes said.

  “Transformed into an eagle and viciously wounded two men before attempting to escape,” one of the officers said, then snapped a salute.

  “There you have it, Rune,” Lowndes said. “Surely you see that we can’t allow creatures like this to attack and injure people.”

  “So you’re torturing him as a form of punishment?”

  “More about letting other shades know that they can’t get away with such behavior,” Lowndes said. “They are fast and they are strong, and we have to let them know that violence against humans will absolutely not be tolerated. Alien bodysnatchers don’t exactly deserve mercy, now, do they?”

  “It’s not like that. They were human once.”

  “I’m not heartless,” Lowndes said. “A part of me pities the human they once were. It’s an awful thing to happen to any person. And my deepest wish is that possessions can be undone. If that ever becomes possible, I will try to reclaim every human taken by a shade. Until that happens, I must crush my pity and show no weakness to my enemy.” She looked past me. “I think the diversion is over. Take the cage to one of the trucks. Sergeant, I imagine that some of these men have work they should be doing.”

  “Of course.” Sergeant Taylor snapped a salute, and in a flurry of activity, the officers found somewhere else to be. As the cage was rolled out, Ringo stared at me with pleading eyes, but I could do nothing for him.

  Lowndes turned her attention back on me, giving me a greasy smile. “Sh
ouldn’t you be more worried about yourself than him? Shades have elementals inside them, but it’s not like they can summon fresh elementals from Brimstone.”

  “I wouldn’t… I haven’t used my fire magic since I last saw you and the other members of the Order. As I promised.”

  “You’re okay for now.” She gave me a pat on the shoulder. “You have earned some credit after all.”

  “I have?”

  “The Order have reason to be thankful to you in exposing a traitor in our ranks. We knew that Uro was capable of corrupting fire sentinels; we didn’t realize that smoke sentinels were also vulnerable to his influence. We’ve become more vigilant since.”

  “Sash,” I said. Something in my gut felt heavy.

  “Yes, that traitorous little bitch,” Lowndes said.

  “She’s—” Anger sparked within me, but I damped it down and forced myself not to defend her. If killing her was the key to Lowndes letting me go, then I had to grasp that. “I couldn’t believe it myself when I first discovered her treachery.”

  “The Sentinel Order has been in existence for over a thousand years, and it has never faced a challenge like Uro. Tell me.” She stared directly at me. “You’re one. What do you think should be done about fire sentinels?”

  “They should be given money, millions of dollars, and let me see, maybe statues on the high streets to celebrate their achievements, or non-achievements if they don’t have any.”

  She smiled. “Be serious. When fire sentinels use their magic, portals are created to Brimstone. Portals which attract elementals capable of bodysnatching humans. Can you trust yourself to never use magic, under any circumstances?”

  “Oh, absolutely.” I had no problem lying to save my skin.

  “Think on it from our position, from the position of the Sentinel Order. We must defend humankind, and fire sentinels have become one of the greatest threats. And yet they are our friends and comrades.”

  I preferred for her to stop thinking about what she intended to do about fire sentinels. At least while I was standing in front of her with her personal army all around her. “Last time I met you, I had no idea you were once a Colonel in the army,” I said.

  “I wish I had never left. I hate dealing with civilians—mindless and unfocused, just muddling their way through life. No offense.”

  “No, that sounds about right,” I said.

  “So I jumped at the chance to lead the L-SED. I feel like I’m back in the army, and I’m much happier for it. Would you say you’re happy, Rune?”

  I did remember Lowndes being much grumpier the last time I’d met her. On the other hand, she had progressed to happily torturing people, so it was possibly not an improvement. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met happiness,” I said. The only time I’d thought I’d been happy had been based on a lie. “I’d like to one day because people who have tell me he’s an awfully nice fellow.”

  “People seek meaning inside themselves and find nothing, Rune, nothing except selfishness and despair,” Lowndes said. “Meaning comes from brotherhood, from family. Being in the army means being surrounded by brothers who understand that, brothers who are willing to give their lives for one another. Fighting for yourself might get you to the top of the mountain, but it’ll also get you somewhere you don’t want to be. Do you know why I get so much respect from my men? Because they have either seen me walk into a hail of bullets to save fellow soldiers or heard about me doing it. They know I’ll put my life on the line for them, and they won’t hesitate if I ask the same of them.”

  “Of course, you were immune to injury unlike the rest of your men.”

  “I think army training would do you good.”

  “Sergeant Taylor figured he’d need to beat the punk out of me first.”

  “It’s not about beating. It’s about stripping you down to the bare essentials, giving you comrades-in-arms, and having the collective rise from the ashes, each one of you stronger individually, and having that strength multiplied by being part of a team.”

  “Something, something, single stick can be snapped, something, something, a bundle of sticks, something. Am I close?”

  “Throughout the history of the Order, famous sentinels have been willing to sacrifice themselves when the moment arose. Do you have that in you, Rune? To give your life to save the world?”

  “Couldn’t the world give its life to save me? Like, I mean, what has the world ever given us? It’s always ask, ask, ask with the world, isn’t it?”

  Before Lowndes could reply, Sergeant Taylor returned. “I just received word that…” He hesitated.

  “Yes?” Lowndes asked impatiently.

  Taylor moved closer, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. A look of surprise flashed across her face. “We better get moving. Call everyone back, and finish loading the trucks now.”

  Sergeant Taylor nodded in my direction. “What about him?”

  “He’s free to go. For now.” Lowndes turned toward me. “Think on what we’ve talked about, fire sentinel.”

  Chapter 8

  Tuesday 17:40

  The taxi driver dropped me outside Ten-two, and I quickly paid him and hurried up the path, pushed through the main door, and entered the living room.

  Pete sat on the couch with the toy bow beside him, watching TV.

  “Pete, have you seen Jo?” I asked.

  “You have to see this,” Pete said, still glued to the screen.

  “Pete!” I snapped. “Concentrate. Have you seen Jo?”

  Pete used the remote to mute the TV, then turned. “Wasn’t she with you?”

  “You haven’t seen her since?”

  “No, is she okay?”

  “I hope so.”

  Pete frowned. “You told me you weren’t going into danger.”

  “That’s what I thought too. I didn’t fully realize where Jo was taking me.”

  Pete grabbed for the bow and stood. “Dude, do we need to rescue her?”

  “No, nothing like that. Sit back down.” This new Pete man-of-action persona was disconcerting. I flicked through the names on my phone until I found Jo’s number. I thought about calling, then decided against it in case she was hiding and a sudden ring revealed her location. Instead, I sent a text: Let me know you’re okay. Then I pocketed the phone. “I just sent a message, I’m sure she’s fine. I just panicked.” Then to distract him, I nodded toward the TV. “You mentioned something was happening.”

  “The mayor was kidnapped.”

  “The mayor? Mayor Maxwell?”

  Pete nodded and put down his bow, and picked up his remote. “He’s missing at least, and kidnapping is suspected. They think the firedrakes did it. Look.” Pete pointed to the screen, where a picture of a man in a heavy overcoat walked forward. A hood hung low over the man’s face, and he moved with determined steps, the footsteps overloud. It was clearly a staged scene. Early evening shadows, and the run-down, dirty alleyway added to the gritty atmosphere of the clip.

  A voiceover spoke, the words muffled by electronic distortion. “Shades have as much right to live in peace in this world as everyone else. And some of us are willing to use our power to achieve that peace.”

  The man half-turned and stretched his arm out. The camera panned to show a beat-down car. A fireball shot from the man’s hand, striking the car, causing a massive fiery explosion.

  The man fully turned around and lowered his hood, revealing the red demon mask he wore. The camera zoomed toward the mask, still showing the burning car in the background. “We demand the disbanding of the criminal organization, the L-SED,” the voiceover said.

  “Someone needs to talk to those guys about the definition of peace,” I said. “Give them a dictionary for their next birthday.”

  “Hush,” Pete said.

  The still of the firedrake disappeared, and the screen shifted to Caroline Black standing with a microphone outside City Hall. “That video never ceases to chill. However, we have just received breaking news. The kidnapping is confirme
d, but the firedrakes may not have been involved. In fact, it appears that the mayor’s own security did it.”

  “How come everything is happening today?” I asked. “I picked the wrong day to get out of bed.”

  “I believe we have a picture.” Caroline touched her hand to her ear. “A man and a woman. Can we bring that up? Yes, it’s coming now.”

  She was replaced on screen by a picture of Mayor Maxwell striding through a crowded lobby flanked by a man and a woman. “Noah and Persia Hastings,” Caroline Black said. “They are new to the mayor’s security team, and no one knows much more about them yet.”

  “Dude,” Pete said sharply, looking over my head.

  I crouched down to look closer at the screen. “I don’t recognize them; do they look familiar to you?”

  “Scarily familiar,” Pete said, continuing to stare over my head.

  “What’s got into you?” I turned to follow Pete’s gaze, then stumbled backward when I saw a man and a woman standing in the doorway of the living room. My first reaction was that Sash had come back. Which was stupid. She was dead, plus that woman—although she had the same color and length of hair—was much shorter, and her features weren’t actually that similar to Sash’s. My second reaction was to do a double-take, look back at the TV-screen, then stare back at the man and the woman. The two kidnappers were standing behind us.

  “Where did they that picture of us?” the man—Noah Hastings—asked.

  “What are you doing in our house?” I asked.

  “Door was open,” Noah said.