Keryn and Adam broke for the nearest doorway, as gunfire erupted around them. Packed clay from the road erupted in sprays of shrapnel, biting into the backs of the pair’s arms and legs as they ran. From behind them, Keryn could hear Cardax’s rumbling laughter over the din of weapon fire. Snarling, Keryn turned and fired a couple rounds in his direction, causing the Oterian to dodge for cover. Adam grabbed her around the waist as he passed, pulling her toward the unmarked, two-story wooden building.
“Not now!” he yelled as he dragged her away. Though lifted from her feet by his powerful arms, Keryn continued to fire wild shots at the retreating smuggler.
Setting her back on her feet without breaking stride, Keryn and Adam bound up the two wooden stairs that led onto the building’s porch. Taking the lead, Keryn counted her blessings that the townsfolk seemed poorly trained with their weapons. Though they had filled the area around them with bullets, not a single one had as of yet found its mark. As they neared the doorway, it was suddenly flung wide. A stout Pilgrim blocked the entrance, a double-barreled shotgun held in the crook of his arm. Surprised, the man hesitated as Keryn bounded up the stairs. Lowering her shoulder, she caught the Pilgrim in the stomach. Together, they tumbled into the room, their bodies regressing into a mass of swinging limbs.
As they rolled across the floor, Keryn immediately regretted her decision to grapple with the much larger man. Though stocky and overweight, the Pilgrim held a surprising storehouse of strength, one that he levered to his advantage. Thrown onto her back, the air was forced from Keryn’s lungs as the man threw himself on top of her. One hand closed over her throat as another settled over her mouth, blocking her attempts to cry out in pain. The Pilgrim’s hand felt crushing on her throat as she struggled for air. Realizing her dangerous predicament, Keryn bit down hard on the fleshy skin between the man’s thumb and forefinger. Shaking from side to side, she held her grip even as the man howled in pain and a coppery taste filled her mouth.
Easing his grip on both Keryn’s mouth and throat, she brought her knees up tight to her chest and launched her hips skyward. The force of her double-footed kick caught the Pilgrim under the chin, rocking him to his feet as he reeled backward. A room-shaking explosion jarred Keryn as the first round of Adam’s large caliber rifle shattered through the man’s shoulder. Staggering backward toward the door, Adam stepped protectively over Keryn and fired again. His second shot lifted the man from his feet and flung his body onto the front porch. Slamming the door, Adam pushed a nearby dresser behind the door, barring the entrance to the building.
Turning, he hurried to Keryn’s side. Kneeling down, Adam reached out and gently wiped the side of her face. As he pulled away his hand, Keryn could see the rich, red blood on his fingertips.
Keryn shook her head. “It’s not mine,” she said hoarsely. She wiped away more of the blood as Adam helped her to her feet.
With her assistance, Adam turned over a heavy wooden table in the center of the room and they took cover behind it. From the street, the townsfolk, with Cardax in the lead, shifted and began firing heavily into the building. The thin glass window shattered, littering the ground with broken shards. Though behind cover, they could hear slivers of wood breaking free and flying across the room.
She rubbed her throat, feeling the bruises where her throat microphone had bit into the flesh as the Pilgrim tried to strangle her. Her knees felt weak and unsteady. Wearily, Keryn leaned against the cool wood of the table and slowly began filtering out the overwhelming sounds of devastation from all around her.
A cursory glance around the room told Keryn what she needed to know. There were no other exits from the building in which they were trapped. Dozens of townspeople, if not more, filled the street outside, advancing quickly on their position. The insignificant amount of furniture they had hastily thrown in front of the door wouldn’t last. The already decimated window would offer easy access into the room for Cardax’s minions. And, as far as Keryn could tell, they had no exit from the building aside from going through the middle of an angry, armed mob.
“Keryn,” Adam asked as he peered around the corner of the table, “what do we do?”
Keryn didn’t reply and, instead, closed her eyes and tried to disappear within the grain of the wooden table. She had never felt so unsure of herself. It was her fault that her team was now trapped and facing their deaths. Clenching her eyes shut, she felt anger well in her chest. She had always had the Voice to fall back on; a pinprick of wisdom that cut through the chaos of her life. But now, a bitter silence prevailed in her head. No advice was shared, though she yearned for help. She was on her own. Alone. And it scared Keryn to death.
“What do you want us to do?” Adam asked sternly.
“I don’t know,” Keryn whispered.
A roar from Rombard’s heavy rifle split the air, the massive round striking the support beam beneath one of the nearby balconies. The wooden balcony buckled and collapsed, spilling the Uligart gunner onto the hard ground. As he tried to stand, Keeling shot him twice, dropping him dead to the ground. Groaning, Keeling slid back behind the crates they were using for cover, holding his abdomen. Dark blood soaking his shirt and ran between his fingers.
“Keeling’s been hit,” Rombard rumbled into the microphone, foregoing any pretenses of call signs. “They’ve got us pinned. What are your orders?”
The radio was strangely silent; he heard no traffic from either Keryn or Adam. Rombard ducked as a round splintered the crate near his head. Looking toward the rooftops, the Oterian spotted not just the shooter who just nearly shot him, but also a number of others taking up positions on the tops of nearby buildings.
“Cerise, this is Rombard. I could use some help with those guys on the roofs.”
“I see them,” came her haughty reply.
A dark shadow passed over Rombard and Keeling as Cerise glided down from her high perch. Her machine gun was firing before she touched down on the roof, spraying the crouching rifleman. Turning, she fired again, catching a surprised Oterian in the chest. The fur covered sniper staggered backwards before falling over the side of the building. He caught the railing of the balcony under his chin before flipping and collapsing onto the hard-packed ground below, bloodied and broken. She continued firing into the other rooftop townsfolk, covering Rombard and Keeling below.
“Talon Six, what do you want us to do?” Rombard asked as he looked down at his Uligart counterpart. Keeling winced at the pain as he alternated stretching first one leg, then the other in an attempt to alleviate some of the burning sensation in his abdomen.
It wasn’t Keryn who answered. Instead, a thick, gravelly voice cut into the radio traffic. “This is Penchant. We had some trouble at the port. McLaughlin is hurt pretty bad.”
Rombard frowned and shook his head. Without waiting for a reply from anyone in the town, the Oterian preemptively responded. “Penchant, I can’t raise Keryn on the radio. Secure the Cair Ilmun and get ready for an immediate evacuation.” Turning his attention to the rooftops, he continued. “Cerise, I know you’re worried, but don’t you dare leave us right now.”
Confirming his fears, he watched the Avalon launch from the roof and fly toward the port on the far side of town. With both Keeling and McLaughlin injured and Cerise gone, the Oterian knew he was on his own. His fears were even more reinforced by the fact that neither Keryn nor Adam had responded during any of the dialogue between the rest of the team. Rombard cursed loudly into the radio before reaching down and scooping up Keeling in one of his enormous arms. The Uligart curled into a ball and groaned at the sudden movement. Breaking their cover, Rombard sprinted down the street; Keeling’s screams growing increasingly louder as the Uligart tried to stop the shaking in his intestines.
The town’s blocks flew by in a blur as Rombard’s massive legs picked up momentum and he charged toward the rear of the town. Around him, muted only by Keeling’s yells of pain, the gunfire increased. He felt the sting of rounds grazing his muscular legs and arms an
d felt the bite of a round connecting with his left shoulder. Through it all, he continued moving, knowing that to stay in one place was certain death.
Though the air was full of the sound of gunfire, Rombard heard a single round echo through the air louder than any other. The town seemed to grow suddenly quieter as blood splashed across the Oterian’s face. Staggering to a slow walk, Rombard looked down at the now silent body cradled in his arms. Keeling’s head lolled forward, drooping limply and rolling from side to side. The entire back of his head was split open; his dark blood splashed across the Uligart’s clothing and staining Rombard’s fur.
Snarling, Rombard dropped the body and swung back toward the approaching townsfolk. Clutching his heavy rifle, the Oterian switched the selector switch to fully automatic as he braced himself for the impending recoil. As he squeezed the trigger, his ears rang from the sound of cannons exploding near his head. The bullets leapt from the end of the rifle in rapid succession, shredding the people who stood unprotected in the street. Shifting his aim, Rombard fired into a balcony laden with shooters. The torn bodies of townsfolk were visible only briefly before the entire area was consumed by a cloud of dust, as the wood and plaster building behind them was decimated by the rounds.
Though still outnumbered, the Oterian made great headway toward getting himself free of the town. Attaching another drum of ammunition to the bottom of the rifle, Rombard smiled at the red glowing barrel as he squeezed the trigger once more. He howled in anger at the townsfolk as he continued firing. Turning his aim once more, a bullet tore into the top of his right shoulder as another caught him in the side of the face. Staggering, he looked up and saw a pair of riflemen standing on top of a nearby roof. With Cerise gone, no one had stopped the militant members of the community from regaining the high ground. Though his shoulder ached from the gunshot, Rombard tried to raise his rifle toward the new threat. Both riflemen opened fire, the bullets tearing into the Oterian’s body. His knees buckling, he slumped to the ground and stared up toward the dark cliff face. With a curse to the Avalon still on his lips, the Oterian’s last breath slipped from his body.
They were dead. She knew it in her heart without even having to ask over the radio. The rest of the team was already dead and she and Adam would soon be following suit.
Keryn huddled behind the overturned table, feeling lost and alone. The townsfolk had yet been able to get into the building, but they were growing closer. Every time she had ever entered combat, the Voice had always been there to support her. Subconsciously, it guided her decision making and military tactics. Though often unwanted, the Voice gave Keryn comfort when times were rough. Now, facing a staggeringly superior force, she realized just how alone she truly was.
The concerned calls on the radio had gone unanswered. Keryn yearned to reply, but simply didn’t know the answer of what to do next. Her lack of confidence bled over her frustration, the two feeding one another until she felt unable to move; frozen in spot even as enemies grew even closer.
Adam continued to fight as though he hadn’t noticed her pressed tightly against the protective table. His rifle fired time and again, sending assaulting townsfolk flying from the broken window. The street beyond was littered with bodies of those foolish enough to get within range of Adam’s barrage.
Sliding back down behind the table, Adam reloaded his rifle. He glanced over at her huddled form, but Keryn barely acknowledged his presence. She pulled her knees tighter to her chest and wrapped her arms protectively around her legs, as she bit back the tears that stung her eyes.
Adam, to his credit, didn’t belittle Keryn. He barely spent more than a second looking in her direction before continuing his reloading. When he spoke, his voice was barely over a husky mutter, barely audible in Keryn’s ringing ears.
“I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but you need to get over it and fast. I know you’re scared. I know this is new to you. But you only have one of two options. Either you fight with me, or we both die. I don’t know about you, but I’m not a big fan of the latter.”
Keryn opened her mouth to reply, but the words never came. She closed her mouth again and stared off at the wall.
“I got it,” Adam continued. “You’re not an infantryman. You’re much better off behind the controls of a ship. You’re good at fighting, but this really isn’t your style. I understand all that. But I also don’t give a damn about any of that. You don’t get to choose your situations. You just adapt and overcome any adversity thrown at you. Believe me, I’m not happy being in this situation. But I sure as hell won’t lie down and let these bastards kill me!”
Keryn whispered something softly, beyond Adam’s ability to comprehend.
Adam looked around the corner, ensuring that no more townsfolk were approaching the open window. “What was that?” he asked over his shoulder.
“They’re dead and it’s my fault,” Keryn said pathetically. “I led you all into a trap.”
Adam turned sharply toward her. “Yes, you did.”
Keryn looked at him in disbelief. She had expected a myriad of responses, but not that. Adam had always been her biggest advocate, and yet he was now just as quick to turn his back on her when she needed him.
He shook his head when he saw her stunned expression. “You led us into a trap. There’s no denying that. But you didn’t do it on purpose. You couldn’t have known that the entire town was going to turn on us. So you led us into a trap. So what? That act alone doesn’t make you a poor soldier or a poor leader. My last commander walked us right into a trap too. It cost a lot of people their lives. But to this day, I have nothing but the utmost respect for him.
“My point is, either you can sit here and feel sorry for yourself or you can accept that you made a mistake. You may have led us here, but you didn’t kill us. Cardax did that. He turned these people into a bunch of bloodthirsty monsters. And right now, while we’re discussing your shortcomings, he’s making his way toward the port so he can escape this planet. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to see him dead for what he did here.”
Keryn nodded and took a deep breath. Having Adam as her voice of wisdom somehow filled the lonely void she had been feeling in her chest. The Voice was gone, but a new voice was quickly taking its place.
“Alright,” she said, though her voice still quivered slightly. “What do we do now?”
Adam nodded in affirmation. “The first thing you do is get on the radio and let them know that you’re still our leader. Get everyone back to the Cair Ilmun and let’s make sure Cardax doesn’t get away.”
“We’re surrounded. How are we going to get out of here?”
“You leave that to me,” Adam said as he stood and moved toward the back wall. He continued speaking as he worked, his actions hidden from Keryn’s view. “People kept telling me that chivalry was dead. I don’t believe that. I still firmly believe that chivalry is alive and well in some men. And a chivalrous man,” he continued as he hurried away from the wall, “always opens the door for a lady.”
As Adam hurried back toward the table, Keryn could see the metallic object affixed to the wooden wall. Adam gestured toward the object as he covered his head with his hands. “You may want to cover your face.”
No sooner had Keryn protected her face between her knees than a concussive blast ripped through the room. Though the blast was focused into the wall, Keryn could still feel her ears pop from the sudden change in pressure. Coughing away the thick dust that now filled the room, she squinted in order to notice the large hole shorn through the back wall. Beyond, Keryn could see the scrub brush and long, flat desert that marked the outside border of the town.
“Ladies first,” Adam motioned as he shook plaster and wood slivers from his hair.
Together, they rushed through the hole and turned toward the space port.
CHAPTER FORTY
Iana wanted to vomit.
Her stomach was being pulled inside out as she tumbled through the wormhole, her Duun fighter re
bounding off the flowing walls of the distorted tunnel. Being able to see the exit to the tunnel so close ahead did little to alleviate the incredible disassociated feeling she experienced throughout her body. Her limbs barely felt like her own as gravitational distortions appeared throughout the cockpit, pulling blood flow in multiple directions throughout her body. Though she maintained her grip on the ship’s controls, her knuckles were sickly white.
Sirens filled the cockpit as the internal sensors warned of microscopic hull breaches forming throughout the ship. Iana had been lucky to survive the first warp when the Squadron appeared behind the satellite grid. Had she another choice, she would have never put herself through such torture a second time. Unfortunately, Iana found herself with little other choice. Terran fighters had skimmed the atmosphere, remaining under her radar as she tried to keep Yen and his team safe. By the time she had noticed the fighters, they were too far away to catch before they would reach the Cair Thewlis. Left with no other option, Iana had risked her own life to warp closer to Earth. Though only a few hundred miles, the trip through the wormhole felt like an eternity.
Gritting her teeth, Iana accelerated toward the end of the tunnel. Smoke was now starting to trail from one of her machine guns under her left wing. It boded ill, since the machine gun carried a large complement of ammunition. Iana hoped it wasn’t a fire. If the ammunition belts ignited, she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing Yen and his team killed. She’d be dead long before that happened.
Finally, much to Iana’s relief, the blue and green planet at the end of the tunnel came fully into view as she was launched out of the end of the wormhole. Disoriented and sickened, it took a moment to gain her bearings. Earth was now significantly closer than it had been before, but that didn’t mean that Iana had warped to the right location. Scanning her radar, she let out a sigh of relief as the three Terran fighters appeared directly below her. Aside from the structural damage to her ship, Iana’s warp had been perfect. Angling downward, Iana dove toward the three unassuming fighters.
Fall of Icarus Page 33
