by Scott Moon
Something was wrong with the picture. Droon was too high. A moment later, Kin understood the cause. The Reaper King rode a mount more intimidating than any warhorse.
The beast under Droon moved like a cat, but its fur was so short that the animal presented a reptilian appearance. Kin doubted that was the case, because a mountain chill held the air and the creature didn’t act cold-blooded.
Kin took pictures with his FSPAA unit, hoping the low light wouldn’t ruin the images. He would need to study them later. From what he could see, the mount seemed a four-legged version of a Reaper, but five times as big. Moonlight thrust the barbed tail forward in silhouette, and for a moment, it appeared rider and mount were one horrible creature.
“Are you dinner for wolves?” Droon asked.
The young Reapers jumped apart and stared at Droon. Then they fell to their knees, stretched their hands across the ground, and groaned.
Kin understood the language. He had been their captive long enough to comprehend the guttural speech, although the words made him feel sick.
“Don’t do that. Never do that here. What if Kin-rol-an-da saw you? He would cut off your heads with his wicked blade.” Droon controlled the mount, which seemed to hunger for the prostrate Reapers. He rode among them, looking down, snarling, flashing his eyes open.
Eyes like hellfire.
Kin whispered in his helmet, “Don’t move. Don’t breathe.”
Orlan’s response came slowly, one syllable at a time; quiet, subdued, and awed. “Roger that.”
Droon sat straighter on the mount. He scanned the small clearing. Patches of moonlight splashed his face. He ceased all movement, forcing his steed to do likewise. Then he turned his head.
He looked at Kin.
“Kin-rol-an-da!”
The mount charged, Droon goading him to greater speed, smashing through bushes and leaping rocks.
Kin surged to his feet and retreated several steps, freeing his rifle from the magnetic holster and aiming it in the same motion.
Droon charged straight ahead, eyes blazing, jaws snapping. The mount huffed, pulled across the ground, and roared a staccato challenge as appealing as machine gun fire and shattering glass. Cak-cak-cak-cak-cak.
Until Orlan blindsided the beast.
The Hero of Man FSPAA struck the thing in mid-stride, driving into its front legs. Orlan, Droon, and the four-legged monster tumbled into darkness.
Orlan tried to hold the creature down and jam his gauntlet pistol into its face, but although they had fallen, Droon remained mounted. The incredible beast clawed to its feet still holding its rider. Orlan fired and dodged away.
The young Reapers rushed Orlan while his attention was on Droon, catching him as he turned. They bore him down.
Kin had no time to watch.
He blasted with the rifle, but Droon and his mount danced out of sight. Kin heard them, but didn’t find a shot. He aimed controlled bursts of suppression fire into the wilderness, estimating where to shoot next as Droon crashed through the night.
The sound of undergrowth being demolished stopped.
Droon called to Kin from the darkness. “Kin-rol-an-da! Teach my warriors to fight.”
“I could,” Orlan grunted, “use some help.”
Kin advanced, mindful of a suspected ambush by Droon. The Reaper had spared him once, but it wasn’t like they had a legally binding peace treaty.
“Take that.” Orlan seized the jaw of the closest Reaper with both hands and twisted his head two hundred degrees the wrong way. As the body fell, he dragged his rifle forward on its sling and shot two more of them in the face. The fourth hesitated.
Kin shot the last in the throat as he spread his jaws to challenge Orlan.
“Nice work, Kin.” Orlan still faced the dead Reapers.
“There’ll be more. Droon knows four of them can’t take us.”
As he finished the words, the forest exploded with charging Reapers.
“Run or fight?” Orlan asked.
“You’re crazy.”
“No sense of humor. Lighten up, Kin. I’m right behind you. Where’s William?”
Kin veered away from where he last heard Droon. “He’s your son.” Moments later, he spotted the Reaper-boy waiting at the top of a trail, poised to flee.
I always wondered what fear looked like on the face of a Reaper.
“Run, William. We’ll catch up.” Orlan put his words into action, speeding up the sloping incline as though gravity barely existed.
“SOMETHING is wrong.”
“Other than Billy leaving us behind?” Orlan asked, striding forward like an officer. “He’s not worth the trouble. Won’t listen. Won’t act his age. Won’t even stay human.”
Kin smiled at the trooper’s back. For all the man’s talk, he seemed determined to find his son. If not for the unnamed danger ahead, Kin would have laughed and teased Orlan. But something dangerous lurked just beyond perception. He felt a battle in the air, and on Crashdown, battles meant hopeless odds and no chance of escape.
He followed Orlan deeper into the valley, feeling tension and wondering where the wolves had gone. The sentry on the ridge pursued for half a mile before disappearing. Occasionally, Kin heard wolves howling, but they were distant and didn’t approach.
“They may be hunting beyond the valley,” Kin said.
“Then why post a lookout?” Orlan had fought Crashdown wolves. He knew how smart they were.
Kin scanned the ridges on the far side of the valley, hoping to see movement. “Maybe it’s a trap.”
“Damn right it’s a trap,” Orlan said.
It wasn’t long before Reapers pursued Kin and Orlan into the valley, gathering near the entrance to the place. Droon wasn’t among them. The largest of the group jumped up and down, waving his arms at the others.
“Impressive.” Orlan didn’t seem impressed.
Kin combined a nod with a slight jerk of his head to one side. “He’s big, even for a Reaper, but I don’t think he could have usurped Droon.”
The antics should have been funny but weren’t. Reaper claws flashed. Challengers and challenged snapped jaws and growled. Two keened atonally as they wrestled, tearing the earth as others paced around the fight, extending and retracting talons.
Orlan spoke softly, words flat. “You have to admire their spirit.”
The commotion diminished. The Reaper band expanded the circle and gazed into the sparse trees. Kin watched. “They’ve been here before, I think. They seem to understand the danger.”
Orlan grunted. “Here comes Droon.”
The Reaper King led a larger force down a steep trail. When the first group approached his war party, he charged forward on his mount and drove them back — like a knight in hell.
Droon yelled and pointed, flashing his jaws at those who didn’t obey. His macabre majesty dominated the scene.
Orlan moved closer but never took his eyes from the distant spectacle. “Tell me, Kin, does it look like Droon is forming two groups as flanking units?”
“Looks like it.”
“I know I’m a badass, and you’re no slouch, but his tactics seem excessive. They could swarm us, no sweat.”
“There’s going to be a battle.” Kin turned to search for the other half of the impending conflict.
“I thought the Crashdown wolves followed Droon. Thought he was their Alpha.”
Kin agreed but couldn’t deny what he saw. Thirty wolves approached Droon cautiously, then rolled onto their sides as he rode forward. They sneered at the Reaper’s mount but didn’t attack.
“Some obey Droon, but I have a feeling there are other packs nearby.” Kin remembered the first time Droon ran with the wolves. He recalled the battle of Imperials, Reapers, and Ror-Rea. Droon’s sorrow when the wolves died was as vivid as a high quality surveillance video.
“The wolves are dead, Kin-rol-an-da,” Droon had wailed. “Lonely.”
But he wasn’t lonely now. The killer had his people and more of the lup
ine stalkers to serve him.
Three great packs of Crashdown wolves slunk from the mountains, emerging into the clearing cautiously. One pack consisted of red or brown wolves. Another held gray or black animals with an occasional white pack member. The third and final wolf force appeared black at first. On closer examination, most of these were an earthy green hue.
“Red, black, and green,” Orlan said.
“More or less.” Kin’s fear gave way to fascination.
“I don’t think Droon expected so many.” Orlan grunted. “If we’re careful, we can search for Billy and stay out of the fight.”
“I’ll lead for a while.” Kin worked his way toward the far side of the valley. Orlan followed ten meters behind.
Rickson was out here somewhere. Kin doubted Orlan could appreciate the bravery of the young shepherd. Even before Reapers and Mazz Imperials came to Crashdown, the lost world was a dangerous place. The young man had grown up on the planet and probably didn’t notice the heavy gravity. But it taxed the body. Muscles grew stronger over time, bones resilient. The heart and cardiovascular system adapted, but none of it thrived in such conditions. The human mind craved Earth gravity.
Clingers, wolves, and scores of other deadly predators inhabited the area. Humans who dared wander the wilderness were devious and untrustworthy — willing to do anything to survive. From time to time, meteors blasted holes in the ground.
“I think I have something,” Orlan said as he crouched and studied the path.
Kin examined the tracks. “Fresh. He should be close.”
“The incoming wolf packs must have cut off his escape. He’ll be hiding nearby.”
They found William clinging to a branch. Few trees of the dense grove showed marks of wolf passage. Crashdown wolves had pelts so coarse they scraped bark free when passing. Kin had seen them gnaw low branches as well.
“Get down here,” Orlan said.
William made a Reaper sound, but then his voice sounded more human than it had since he changed. “You should come up. From what I see, this valley is about to bleed.”
Orlan spared Kin a tired look. “The boy reads too much.”
Kin considered abandoning his armor to climb the tree. It would be smart to get a better view of the conflict. He needed to find a way out of the valley without stumbling into the raging battle.
“Don’t even think about it,” Orlan said. “There won’t be time to re-arm. You probably can’t see as much as you think.”
“I don’t like this low area. If the battle spreads, we’ll be in trouble.” Kin strode away from William’s trees and spotted the green wolves swarming over a group of Reapers.
“More are coming from the east,” William called. “And the northeast.”
Wolves — green, red, and black — ran at the grove. Orlan started firing before Kin could shout. The veteran trooper conserved ammunition at first, taking careful, long-range shots where there were few saplings blocking his view.
But the wolves kept charging, faster than Kin had ever seen a Crashdown wolf run. Twisting, teeth baring snouts bobbed in rhythm with ground-eating strides. The animals bound over creeks, fallen branches, and boulders. Orlan and Kin opened fire, killing one crazed animal after another.
The first wave reached their position. Kin freed his sword and slashed as he dodged sideways.
Orlan hammer-fisted on its nose. He faced William despite the danger the move exposed him to.
“Stay in that tree.”
Wolves ran past Kin and Orlan, through the grove and across the meadow, racing away from a mounted group of Reapers trying to intercept them.
“It’s a rout. Save your ammo. They’re being chased.” Kin stepped behind one of the larger trees for shelter. Several of the largest wolves passed him without slowing.
“If you have secret contact with the Shock Troopers, now would be the time to call them.”
Orlan threw back his head, laughing at the sky. “Don’t be jealous. I had contact because my suit has the communication privileges of an officer.”
“You could have said something.”
More laughter. “We’re going to die here.”
Kin stared at him.
Orlan’s mirth subsided. He stared. “I thought it would be different.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DROON’S Reapers moved around the grove methodically, if such a word could be used to describe Reaper tactics. Although Reapers were devious and fond of ambush, they normally charged into battle once their prey showed fear. Droon had improved his people’s discipline.
“How fast can you run without armor?” Kin asked.
“My armor has full power, Kin. These bastards might take me down, but only after a hell of a fight.”
Kin watched the scene. Reapers approached through the gloom as though Droon had formed the warriors into squads. Glowing orange and red eyes searched like hunters. Nightmares came with less stealth than the monsters pushing fear in front of them, driving the invisible force straight at Kin’s heart.
He remembered the campaign on Hellsbreach. The first planetary assault fell from the sky with savage intensity. He could still see smoke trails following his companions. Heat shields glowed around each trooper in his unit. The tint of his face shield was so dark that during any other time, he would be blind. But now the technology of his FSPAA armor protected him.
The fight began as soon as they were on the ground. The Reapers had no surface to air weapons. It should have been an easy landing, but all he remembered was being crushed by a swarm of demons.
A lifetime later, he had the sense to activate his armor’s automatic retreat function. He put the unit in zombie mode and evacuated the area. That was the longest march of his life. Half conscious, half alive, he dreamed of Rebecca.
“What are you thinking, Kin?”
“I’m thinking our FSPAA units can walk back to Maiden’s Keep without us.”
“I was afraid of that. Do you want to get me killed?” Orlan paused. “It might work, but we risk losing our armor and weapons. Now doesn’t seem a good time to run around naked.”
“Lose the armor or lose our lives; it’s an easy choice.” Kin hoped Orlan would talk him out of the plan.
He had lived on Crashdown without modern weapons. He understood how difficult it was to survive with only basic tools. Yet the Reapers were closing fast. Droon was showing tactical brilliance beyond what members of his race possessed.
“I’d rather take my chances fighting through the horde. Maybe if we put up a good fight, William can escape. He’ll probably write a book about it. With my luck, you’ll be the hero and I’ll look like some kind of maniac.”
“You’re not a maniac. You’re a psychopath.”
“It’s good to be appreciated.”
“If we’re going to do it, we better do it now.”
Kin retreated into the shadows, then powered down certain systems that would attempt to keep his armor sealed. Without this first step, he could be injured as he discarded his FSPAA. Once that was done, he took off the armor and reassembled it as though someone wore it. He accessed the external command keypad by sliding away a small metal panel. Then he punched in the code.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“FOLLOW me. Move slowly. Stay low. When I tell you to run, head for Maiden’s Keep,” Kin said.
Orlan interrupted. “If I tell you to run, run and keep running no matter what happens behind you. If I fight an army of Reapers and God knows what else is walking around here, I don’t want it to be wasted because you came back and tried to be a hero. You’re not a real Reaper, William. Don’t think you can stand against them, because that will just slow me down. Then we’ll die.”
Fifteen seconds after Kin, Orlan, and William crept from the grove, the FSPAA units moved in the opposite direction. Once the diversion began, the Fleet armor fired a preprogrammed attack. Machine guns roared to life. Orlan’s suit launched a volley of small rockets. They weren’t meant to cause much damage but were in
cendiary devices designed to mark landing areas for air support.
“Get on your stomach and crawl. If the Reapers spot us now, we just wasted two very expensive pieces of equipment,” Kin said.
Orlan looked back. “They should be separated by now.”
Seconds passed, although it seemed longer, before the FSPAA units stomped away from each other. The demons of Hellsbreach swarmed towards them.
Kin concentrated on moving quickly without raising his body off the ground. Undergrowth scratched his face. Sweat ran into his eyes. He began to feel the full effect of Crashdown gravity. If he could make it a few more meters, he thought it would be safe to stand and run.
Orlan, despite his size, took the lead. William struggled to keep up. The sound of his breathing came loud enough to alert everyone and everything in the valley of his exact location. The boy still looked like a Reaper, but fearful sounds revealed his true age and the fact he had never known danger like this.
Kin thought of Rickson and realized the shepherd hadn’t been a boy for a long time. Life on Crashdown made him strong, resourceful, and a bit crazy. Kin caught himself wishing he had come to this valley to save Rickson instead of William. No matter how fast Orlan’s son moved, Kin felt he wasn’t going to make it. He would make a mistake, scream at the wrong moment, or start crying.
There was a good chance William’s Reaper form wasn’t capable of producing tears, but it wasn’t something Kin was willing to bet his life on. He also wondered what William’s true form looked like, because if he died, he would surely change back into the son of Orlan.
“Stop,” Kin whispered. Neither William nor Orlan responded. “Stop. There are wolves in front of us.”
The Crashdown predators stalked forward in a V formation, muzzles down, eyes scanning for danger. Kin didn’t like the look of the sharp teeth packed with gore. The animals had been in a tough fight and searched for a way out of this hell just as Kin and his companions did. Moving around the wolf patrol was going to be difficult and would expose Kin’s group to Reapers streaming into the area.
