The helicopter landed beside the bank of the river. Within moments of its skids touching the soft ground, Alex propelled Cassie onto it. One of the aircrew helped strap her in. Then, seconds later, the helicopter was in the air again, carrying only her. There had been room for the others, she saw, so why hadn’t they boarded as well?
All questions disappeared when the helicopter banked suddenly and deeply, as if it were standing on its side. Her stomach lurched into her throat, and she closed her eyes, remembering why she hated flying.
The trip back was far faster than she would have thought. They must have been closer to the base than she had realized—or the helicopter was just that quick. She saw the lights of the Magic Kingdom below, nestled against the Peace River and the lakelike reservoir. The aircrew must have been insanely skilled because no sooner had she seen the lights of the base than they stood the helicopter on its side again, spun about, and dropped so quickly she thought they were crashing. Her eyes shut tight, and she gripped the nylon webbing of the bench with a death grip, swearing to herself that this would be the very last time she ever flew.
The helicopter set down so softly that she didn’t realize they were on the ground until the side door slid back and a soldier motioned for her to get out. She ran bent over, holding onto her bush hat so the gale from the rotors didn’t blow it away. The second she was off and safely away, the helicopter took off, spun about, and disappeared once more into the night.
Where’s it going now? Back to help look for the creature I saw. Sighing, she looked around. Other than a couple of soldiers who must have been ground crew, she was alone. It was late, and the base was silent. Everyone must have been asleep. No one was there to meet her. Now that she was safe, it seemed no one cared about her anymore. The others, including Duncan and Elizabeth, would still be out there in the MRAPs, probably making their way back. For the moment, she was left to herself.
She stumbled back to the barracks in the dark. In her room, she stripped out of her filthy clothing and made her way down the hall to the women’s shower room, where she had a very hot, very long shower. Then she returned to her room and crawled into her bed. When she closed her eyes, she once again saw the giant, hirsute creature that had been watching them.
She knew what it had to be, but it was too ridiculous to even consider. Her life was already too weird. But it had been watching her—she was certain of that. Why? Because she could use magic—why else?
Exhaustion finally overcame her. As she drifted off to sleep, one word swirled through her subconscious: Sasquatch.
* * *
Bright sunlight woke Cassie. In her exhaustion the night before, she had left her curtains open. Outside, birds sang. Groaning, she squinted at the digital clock on the nightstand beside her bed, not quite certain where she was or what was going on. The clock read 10:27 a.m. So why was she so tired? She considered going back to sleep, but then she remembered the events of the night before: the hunt, the ambush at the river, the mysterious creature spying on her. Are Elizabeth and Duncan back yet? Are Alex, Paco, and Clyde safe?
She swung her legs over the side of her bed and sat there for several moments, trying to find her equilibrium, before finally forcing herself to get up, throw on a T-shirt and some track pants, and stagger out of her room and down the hallway to the communal bathroom. She couldn’t recall ever being this sore.
It was Tuesday morning. She had been with the army for two weeks, mostly wasting time in a laboratory, levitating stuff, but last night they had finally done something important, something real. And, she had been part of that team. She took satisfaction in knowing the hellhounds weren’t going to hurt anyone else. Where had they come from—space? Paco’s UFO theories were possible but just didn’t feel right.
She cleaned up, brushed her teeth, went back to her room, and dragged on a hoodie. She made her way over to the base cafeteria… mess hall… whatever, hoping she could still get some breakfast this late in the morning. She was in luck; there were no set dining hours. Conscious of the growling in her stomach, she began scooping scrambled eggs—and way too much bacon—onto her plate. Balancing an overfull cup of coffee on her tray, she sat down by herself. It was only then she noticed Alex sitting with the other members of the cover party. He met her eye, smiled, and motioned her over. She was about to pick up her tray and go join them when Duncan set his tray down across from her. “Morning.”
She forced back her momentary pang of annoyance, reminding herself that Duncan had few friends here. It wouldn’t kill her to eat with him. She smiled at him. “Morning. You sleep in as well?”
Duncan mumbled something incoherent and began to eat.
“Where’s Elizabeth?”
“I think she’s back in the lab, practicing.”
Why was that absolutely no surprise?
Duncan sipped his coffee, watching Cassie over the top of his cup. Something was clearly on his mind.
“What?”
He stared at his plate.
“Duncan, what?”
He finally looked her in the eye again, his expression determined. “What the hell were you doing last night?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why on earth would you do something so stupid as to go into the woods on foot after those things?”
“Why? Because they needed to be stopped. They were killing people. That’s why we’re here—to help.”
“Bullshit. We’re here because the government wants to control us. We’re just a new weapon for them. They don’t care about us; they only care about what their precious mag-sens can do for them. If something had happened to you last night—if they had lost you—do you think any of them would really care? That’s crazy, taking chances like that—especially for you.”
Duncan looked away, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe how dumb she was.
She felt a flush of heat. “What do you mean, especially for me?”
“Look, I’m as liberal as the next guy, okay? I’m all for women’s rights and all that shit, but seriously, you could have been killed last night, and for what? Nothing. You don’t see me taking chances like that, do you?”
Cassie sat back in her chair and pushed her plate away from her. “Duncan, those monsters killed all the people on that farm, all of them, even the children. They weren’t going to stop, and more people would have died. You know that, right?”
“It’s not our problem. The army can clean up their own mess.” He looked around at the nearly empty cafeteria then lowered his voice to a whisper. “And let’s be clear about something, okay? This whole shitty situation is the result of something these people have done. I think we all know that. Those damned things probably escaped from a secret laboratory on this base. The army probably cloned them or something.”
“I have absolutely no idea where those things came from, but at least the army is trying to do something. What are you doing?”
Duncan snorted. “Do something? Are you kidding me? What did you really do last night? What can you do? You’re just a girl, not a soldier. You, me, Elizabeth, we’re nothing, just a trio of freaks who can do little magic tricks. What did you think you could accomplish out there?”
Cassie stood up and snatched at her tray. “At least I was out there. I wasn’t hiding in a truck. And by the way, I’m a woman, not a girl.” She stormed off, feeling the heat of indignation course through her body. She dropped her tray on the counter near the stack of used dishes and headed for the front door. Girl? How clueless is he?
She paused, staring at the glass door leading outside. Was he right? She had been terrified last night, helpless and unarmed. It had been a very unpleasant feeling. She spun in place and stared at Alex and his friends, still sitting at their table, talking and laughing.
No. Duncan wasn’t right. She took a deep breath, set her shoulders, then headed straight for Alex’s table. They stopped their conversation and watched her. Stopping in front of Alex, she glared at him in challenge, committed to a cou
rse of action. “I want you to teach me how to shoot a gun.”
He met her gaze. An awkward silence settled over them all. The other soldiers looked from Alex to Cassie.
Clara sipped her coffee, a look of profound amusement on her face. “I thought you were a gentleman, Boss.”
Alex frowned at Clara then pushed himself away from the table, his metal chair legs screeching on the floor. “Is now a good time?”
Chapter 27
The M4 carbine—not a rifle, she had learned; rifles had longer barrels—jerked in Cassie’s hands when she pulled the trigger. She’d closed her eyes at the last moment, expecting a far worse jolt than had actually happened.
“Keep your eyes open,” Alex said from where he knelt beside her. “It won’t bite.”
Snorting, she placed her cheek back against the carbine’s stock once more. Gazing through the scope, she reacquired the paper target, a man-shaped figure holding a rifle and charging at her, and placed the aiming arrow—not a crosshair—over the center of the target’s torso.
She lay on her belly—in a position Alex had called “prone”—in one of the ten firing bays in the indoor range. She didn’t ask why a power dam had been built with an indoor rifle range. Pointing out the flaws in the army’s ever-more-ridiculous cover story would have been rude. She pulled the collapsible stock of the weapon tighter against her shoulder.
“Three breaths,” Alex said, speaking loudly enough that she could hear him through the ear defenders she wore. “The barrel will naturally rise and fall with your breathing. On the third breath, as you’re letting it out, slowly pause and then squeeze—not pull—the trigger. It should almost be a surprise when the weapon fires. And keep your eyes open this time.”
She did as he instructed. Not surprisingly, the aiming arrow in her scope did exactly what he had said it would do: rise and fall with her breathing. On her third breath, she paused as the aiming arrow dipped down upon the center of the target. Holding her breath, she very, very slowly squeezed the trigger, concentrating on keeping the target in her sights. When the weapon fired, it did almost surprise her, just as he had described.
That felt right. She looked up at Alex, waiting for him, grinning.
He put down the binoculars he had been looking through and nodded. “Bang on with that last one. Now do it again just like that.”
This time, she really pulled the weapon in tightly against her shoulder, resting its weight on the bottom of the plastic thirty-round magazine beneath the weapon. She took her time and concentrated, firing round after round into the target. Her mouth felt dry, and her pulse was racing, but her senses were alive. She had had no idea firing a gun could be this much fun. Growing up, she had never been into hunting, hating the idea of killing animals.
She squeezed the trigger, but this time nothing happened. Lifting her head, she gazed over the top of the weapon. The firing chamber was open, exposed, and the bolt was all the way to the rear, indicating there were no more bullets in the magazine. “I’m out.”
“So, what do you do now?” Alex asked.
“Reload?”
“Well?”
She did as he had shown her, only fumbling around for a moment looking for the magazine release catch. She placed the empty magazine on the ground beside her, loaded a full one, and released the bolt, letting it slide forward, loading another round in the firing chamber.
She waited.
“You’re not done until you start firing again.”
She grinned and commenced firing once more, loving this. When she had fired all thirty rounds, he told her to clear the weapon and make safe. She removed the magazine, let the chamber go forward, and dry fired it down range. Then she cocked it once more and dry fired it again. Finally, she locked the bolt all the way to the rear. Alex gazed into the empty firing chamber.
“Clear.” He patted her shoulder.
She released the bolt’s catch, sending it forward again with a metallic click, then dry fired the weapon one last time, releasing the pressure on the trigger—just as he had shown her.
“Lay the weapon down.”
She did as he directed then climbed to her feet and pulled the ear protectors off. Alex walked to the wall, where a control box had been installed. He pushed a button on the box, and there was a metallic clanging of chains from down the range and a low droning of gears as the target she had been shooting at began to move toward them, dangling from a chain on the ceiling. When it was a foot or so in front of her, Alex released the button.
Most of her bullets had hit in the center of the target, with only a smattering of wild shots around the edges. Grinning, she pointed to a cluster of holes where his genitalia would have been. “I killed him good.”
Alex snorted, shaking his head. “Not too bad, deadeye. You’re a natural at this.”
“Not a whole lot of things I’ve ever been a natural at.”
“You want to try a pistol?”
She faced him, her hand on her waist, and cocked her hip. “Oh, hell yes.”
He walked over to another firing position, one where the target hung much closer. She followed him and stood beside him, putting her ear defenders back on. He pulled his pistol from his hip holster and, keeping it carefully pointed downrange, held it for her to take. She held it in both hands near her waist.
“Pistols are different. All weapons are dangerous, but because pistols have such short barrels, they have a tendency to point wherever you happen to be looking. And that’s really dangerous. So, keep the weapon pointed downrange at all times, especially around me.”
Her smile vanished when she saw the serious look on his face. “Got it. Downrange only.”
“Okay, there’s already a round chambered. All you have to do is release the safety catch, here.” He showed her where it was.
Using her thumb, she moved the safety catch to the firing position.
“Use both hands,” he said, demonstrating how to hold the weapon. “There’s not much of a kick, but there’s still enough of a recoil that you need to keep reacquiring the target with each shot. You try that quick-firing shit you see in the movies—or God help us, hold it sideways gangsta-style—and you’ll miss with everything but the first round.”
She nodded, feeling a lightness in her chest and a sense of breathlessness.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
A moment later, she fired. The weapon jumped in her grip, but it was almost nothing compared to the recoil from the M4. This time, the target was much closer than it had been before, but she still couldn’t tell if she was hitting it or not.
“You’re a bit high. And to the left.”
She compensated, firing once more.
“That’s it. Again.”
Aware she was smiling like the Cheshire cat, she began to fire faster—but still re-acquiring the target before squeezing the trigger. Her heart beat wildly. All too quickly, the weapon stopped firing, and she saw that the bolt was locked back, indicating it was empty. He showed her how to eject the spent magazine and insert a full one, releasing the bolt catch to chamber a new round and keep going. She started firing again.
They stayed on the range for another hour or so, firing magazine after magazine. He showed her numerous firing positions. Lying down prone was the most accurate position, but he also showed her how to shoot from one knee, from standing, and from a seated position.
“Let’s try something different.” He used the control box to bring the target right in so that it was only about a foot away from her. “Sometimes, you’re gonna get crowded by opponents. They’ll come right in against you to smother you. What I want you to do is hold the weapon down so it’s pointed at the ground then step back quickly one pace while at the same time bringing the weapon up and, as quickly as you can, put two rounds into the chest and one into the face.”
“Shit, Alex!” She stared at him, her eyes wide.
“There’s shooting at paper targets, and then there’s combat. Are you playing or learning?”
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Exhaling, she nodded. Holding the pistol in both hands, she moved forward until she was almost touching the target, the pistol aimed at the ground between her feet.
“Finger off the trigger until I say move, and do not shoot yourself in the foot.”
She concentrated on her breathing, on her focus.
“You ready?”
She inclined her head, and he moved farther back behind her.
“Go!”
In one fluid motion, she stepped back, swinging the pistol up as she did. Before she even realized what she was doing, she had put two rounds into the target’s chest, followed a moment later by a third into the nose of the figure.
“Goddamn, girl. That was all right!”
Her heart raced in excitement. “Let’s do it again.”
They practiced that maneuver several more times until her magazine was spent once again. “That’ll do for today,” Alex said as he took his pistol back from her. “Best to let us do the gun fighting, though. You concentrate on the magic.”
“I’m not good enough?”
“You’re as good as you’re going to get after one session. But we do this for a living, a lot. Besides, I’m not sure it’s something you really want to get good at.” His voice had trailed off, and a look of melancholy passed over his features, but only for a second.
“What now?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Best part. Now you learn how to clean my weapons.”
She noticed for the first time that other soldiers had arrived. All along the firing range, they were laying out their weapons. One of them nodded approvingly at Cassie. Alex slung his carbine, holstered his pistol, and then led Cassie off the range to a small room with benches and cleaning kits. He showed her how to break both the weapons down, disassembling them into many small parts.
“They heard about last night,” Alex said, showing her how to wipe the dirty parts down with gun oil.
In moments, her fingers were filthy, covered with carbon and oil. “What about last night?”
“They heard you did well last night.”
“I didn’t do anything last night. Other than slow you down.”
Starlight (The Dark Elf War Book 1) Page 22
