Retribution: Book Four of the Harvesters Series

by Luke R. Mitchell

  The rakul were watching them silently, the “small” ones having formed a rough semi-circle about thirty yards away, walling them in toward Naga, who hadn’t moved a twitch since he’d landed about two-hundred yards away.

  None of them gave one iota of concern to the convoy of vehicles disappearing down the distant road. That was something. If nothing else, at least they’d accomplished that today.

  Rachel focused back on the sword and telekinetically yanked it over.

  Jarek caught it shakily and gave her a grim nod of thanks. “So how do you wanna do this thing?”

  She tried to put on a brave face and ignore how beaten to shit he looked and she felt. “You’re telling me you never dreamed of charging into battle with a dragon?”

  He gave an amused huff that turned into a dusty cough. “Of course. Totally. So like, on three, then?”

  Something broke in her, looking at him. She didn’t see it coming—couldn’t even say what it was at first. Just something about the look in his eye. Something that went beyond the fear she’d seen in those dark eyes a few times in the past. Something that understood the current situation with morbid certainty.

  They were going to die here.

  She turned toward Naga, unable to face that horrible realization in Jarek’s eyes.

  Ahead, Naga started forward with calm detachment, his first steps sending light tremors through the mountainside.

  “Rachel?”

  Jarek’s tone was soft. She looked back at him, trying to keep the tears in, trying to force a smile, if only so it could be the last way he saw her.

  He licked his cracked lips, his gaze unwavering from hers despite the enormous alien dragon stomping up the mountain behind her. He swallowed and shook his head, smiling at his own hesitance. Then, with a small shrug, as if he were simply stating the obvious.

  “I love you.”

  Longing and regret and furious frustration all swirled through her underneath the persistent dread at what was coming.

  It wasn’t fair. Not a single damn part of any of this was fair. That this should happen now, here of all places. But it was happening. All of it was happening. There was nothing left to it.

  All she could do was say the words back. Just this once.

  But they wouldn’t come out. Why wouldn’t they come out?

  She wanted to cry. Was crying, she realized. A bittersweet smile pulling at her lips.

  She wanted to say the words. But the smile widened, taking on a life of its own in a way that made her wonder if she hadn’t just cracked.

  “I know,” she whispered, still smiling.

  Then she turned and charged straight at the oncoming dragon.

  “You—Hey!” Jarek cried after her. “You can’t just pull a Solo on me, lady!”

  She kept running, heart racing, her smile twisting into something frantic, desperate. He caught up to her, clearly limping, and just as clearly determined to stick with her until he couldn’t.

  Maybe they were going to die. Whatever they were going to do, it’d be together. And she’d be damned if she was going to give either of them a reason to think they’d found their closure and could give in. Not while they could still draw breath.

  “Going for the eyes,” Jarek grunted between breaths. His faceplate slid closed. “Might have to climb.”

  An idea struck her. Not a good one, but she wasn’t sure there were any of those left at this point.

  “Need a boost?”

  He didn’t answer right away, and she didn’t blame him.

  The dread was growing in her chest, heavier and heavier with each step they took, and with every perspective inch of scaly height Naga seemed to gain. He loomed over them, regal and terrible and utterly unthreatened.

  When she glanced over, she realized Jarek was slowing down. Or was it her that had started it?

  He glanced over his shoulder. She followed his gaze and realized the rest of the rakul were following them, closing slowly, ready to pounce when easy opportunity arose.

  Just like that, all the momentum of their combined determination hit a wall, trickling away down the shallow grade of the mountainside.

  Her stomach fell, and despair crept in.

  What had possessed her to think the others would politely wait their turns? Some feeble hope their honor would mandate that they allow a proper contest, she supposed. But it was probably too late for that.

  As far as she knew, it had been well over a thousand years since a Kul had died. Now, since arriving on Earth, the rakul had lost five of their number. They had no intention of making this anything but a slaughter.

  Her step faltered. They weren’t running anymore—just tensing together, sword and staff at the ready, trying to look every direction at once. They turned back-to-back, Jarek facing Naga, Rachel facing Gada and Shimo and the mountain beyond.

  And that was when she noticed the pair of figures standing tall on the mountain ridge high above.

  “Jarek!” she whispered, not turning away.

  “Is that …?” Jarek started to ask behind her.

  Then one of the figures on the ridge reached for something at their chest, and Jarek’s voice was washed out by the powerful presence that rolled over her senses, vast and alien, yet familiar in an odd way.

  It felt like Haldin. And it felt like Alton.

  Somehow, it was both, and it frightened her. But fright spilled over to hope as the thing that was both Haldin Raish and Alton Parker gathered itself and sprang from the mountain.

  It was an impossible leap—well beyond what even a raknoth could’ve managed. He sailed through the air like a humanoid missile, barreling straight for Naga’s head, which had raised to inspect the new arrival, cocked with curiosity.

  “Is he …” Jarek said slowly. “He’s not seriously …”

  Neither they nor the rakul below could seem to do anything but gape as the hybrid flew on as if propelled by more than his initial jump.

  Naga, on the other hand, growled an earth-shaking growl and swept an enormous hand back, preparing to swat the Haldin-Alton hybrid out of the air like the gnat he comparatively was.

  Before he drew within Naga’s striking range, though, Haldin threw his arms wide, cocking his own fist back, and pulled to a dead halt in midair. Then, suspended fifty feet above their heads, he thrust an open palm forward with an inhuman cry.

  To Rachel’s extended senses, the flare of channeled power was like staring straight at the sun. To Naga, though, it must’ve been a whole lot worse.

  It was like the Kul had been struck by a speeding glacier.

  It was impossible.

  And yet Rachel watched in slack-jawed astonishment as the dragon that was the size of a small mountain toppled backward with a haunting vibration somewhere between a keen and a groan. He slammed onto his back hard enough to cause a minor earthquake beneath their feet.

  Haldin dropped the last fifty feet straight down and landed between them and Naga with his own soft thud, radiating confident power despite the fact that the size mismatch should’ve been laughable. A second later, Elise slammed down beside him, fists clenched and dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail.

  For a long moment, no one moved.

  Then Jarek thrust his sword to the sky and shouted, “Fuck yes!”

  Behind them, Gada growled and took a step forward.

  The rest of the rakul only watched on uncertainly as Naga labored to roll back to his gargantuan haunches with a difficulty that suggested it had been millennia since he’d had cause to recover from such a blow.

  When he did, though, the roar he let loose was unlike anything Rachel had ever experienced. It hit her entire body, so loud she could barely process what was happening at first. She nearly fell to her knees under the raw telepathic pressure. Jarek held on to her, apparently sensing her instability and at least somewhat protected by Fela.

  Haldin and Elise stood steady through the entire thing, wary but strong.

  “You picked the wrong species to fu
ck with,” Haldin said when it was over, his voice oddly muffled to her ears in the wake of Naga’s roar.

  “And now you’ll end no more worlds, Kul’Naga,” Elise added.

  “Yeah, what they said!” Jarek called. “You big scaly a-hole.”

  If Naga had any thoughts on the matter, he didn’t see fit to communicate them.

  He just charged.

  And, with a hair-raising chorus of shrieks and growls, so did the rest of the rakul.

  34

  The ground shook with Naga’s first attack.

  Rachel didn’t have time to see if Elise and Haldin had evaded it. She was already whirling around to face the other incoming threats beside Jarek.

  Gada was first to lunge in, eager to finally claim their heads.

  She felt more than saw Jarek stepping in to catch the Kul with a low sword sweep. She added her own telekinetic battering ram to the side of Gada’s head, and their low-high combo took the Kul off his feet and tumbling past them.

  Rachel stuck close to Jarek’s back as he stepped in to engage Shimo and the robotic-looking Kul with its four mechanical legs and long, snaking arms. She risked a quick glance back and saw Elise darting up one of Naga’s forearms while Haldin leapt straight for the Kul’s head.

  They were powerful, there was no doubt about that. But powerful enough to kill something so gargantuan, so ferocious? That was hard to believe. Almost as hard to believe as the thought that her and Jarek could hope to keep four rakul off their backs while they did it.

  Thud.

  Make that five rakul, she grimly amended as Vermaga’s leathery, amorphous form slammed down from one of the ships above.

  Her step faltered at the surprise entrance.

  Jarek, on the other hand, opened up with an unexpected burst of speed and claimed Shimo’s remaining foreleg with a flash of azure light and a shriek like rusty iron.

  Rachel could have cheered if not for the telltale pop of Fraga’s sudden appearance and the dark obsidian dagger he promptly hurled at Jarek.

  She caught the dagger with telekinesis and flung it deep into Vermaga instead. When her extended senses rippled to her exposed right, she didn’t think—just swung her staff as hard as she could.

  The blow caught Fraga in the torso just as he popped into existence with a dagger cocked back to strike. It wasn’t much, her puny human swing, but Fraga was small, and it was enough to knock him away. It was also enough to send her tumbling over when her exhausted legs failed to catch up on her balance.

  She hit the dusty rock with a heavy oomph. Off to the left, she heard Jarek fighting on. And, to the right, Fraga was already darting in, unperturbed by her staff strike.

  She caught him with telekinesis and conjured a flare that left her head buzzing and Fraga’s eyes temporarily fried, judging by the way he clutched at them. She hurled him fifty feet straight backward before he could do anything about it then moved to pull herself back to her feet.

  The shaking ground informed her there wasn’t time for that.

  Gada. Charging in from behind to crush her where she lay.

  She couldn’t move—didn’t even have time to try to call for help.

  Gada stomped in, raising a thick foot with violent intent.

  Rachel drew what energy she could, and—

  A dark shape blurred in and hit Gada with a side kick that sent him sailing like a huge, spiky cannonball.

  Elise.

  Rachel blew out a relieved breath and hurried to her feet, turning back for Jarek.

  Elise was already sweeping past her.

  Jarek had managed to clamber up onto Shimo’s back and was clinging tightly to his unwilling mount with one arm, throwing wild sword swings at the other Kuls as they tried to close in.

  The mechanical Kul had just snared one of its jointed tentacles around Jarek’s ankle when Elise slammed into the thing with a shoulder tackle that looked like it should have broken something inside her. Instead, the Kul took flight.

  Elise whirled on Shimo, looking ready to tear off his legs.

  Fraga appeared with a sneak attack, but Elise was ready. She dodged his out-of-nowhere stab with inhuman speed and slammed a fist down on top of his head so hard that he didn’t manage to blink off to safety. He just hit the ground with a low cracking sound.

  Elise rounded on Vermaga. Too late.

  The Kul caught her with a solid smack that sent her flying for the wreckage of the south portal.

  Rachel reached out, thinking to telekinetically catch her. A cry from Jarek drew her attention before she could.

  In the chaos, Shimo had somehow bucked Jarek to the ground, and now the big mantis was rounding on him with the sharp stalks of his remaining legs. Shimo reared, and Jarek rolled. The Kul’s stomp cracked through hard rock like plastic, missing Jarek by inches.

  Desperate, Rachel thrust out with both hands, pulling for power, and hit Shimo with everything she had left.

  It wasn’t as impressive as the hits Super Elise was throwing, but considering everything Rachel had already been through in the past hour, it wasn’t half-bad. Shimo flew far enough that he struck Mada’s enormous body before hitting the ground.

  Rachel took a more direct route to the stony earth, falling to her knees as the fresh wave of channeling fatigue crashed down on her. She forced herself to look up and reassess their threats.

  Shimo was picking himself up from his awkward landing. Vermaga was gliding that way as well, and, looking further back, Rachel realized why.

  The smallest of the rakul ships was descending to the right of Mada’s fallen bulk, seemingly at the behest of the mechanical Kul, who hadn’t bothered rejoining the fight after getting a taste of Elise’s linebacker special. But why were they all—

  A roar to the left shook her focus. Gada. But he was fixed on the ship as well, roaring at his own kin. Rachel felt the telepathic traffic passing between them but couldn’t hear the message—probably wouldn’t have understood it even if she could.

  Whatever it was, Gada didn’t look happy. Especially not as the mechanical Kul gathered itself and sprang up to the open ship hatch a good twenty yards above. Vermaga glided after his kin, looking intent on doing the same, and Shimo seemed to be debating himself.

  It was almost like …

  Could it be?

  Were they retreating?

  The first flicker of hope touched at her exhausted brain.

  Then Gada stomped the ground like a wild animal and turned to charge Jarek.

  Rachel lumbered forward, head spinning and stomach churning with the cumulative exhaustion. Jarek rolled to his feet and nearly fell back over.

  Why would the rakul retreat now, when they were down to four defenders—two of whom were clearly on their last legs, and one of whom was currently tangling with a goddamn space dragon?

  It didn’t matter.

  All that mattered was that she and Jarek took advantage of the improved odds before the bastards changed their minds.

  But Elise darted past before they could.

  “Sword!” she cried.

  Jarek hesitated for a second, then hurled the Whacker after her. The long, spinning arc of its flight stabilized in mid-air, and the sword snapped to Elise’s waiting hand.

  She didn’t break stride—just charged straight in to meet Gada.

  Before the change, Elise, like Haldin, had been astoundingly quick and agile—both of them nearly preternaturally so. Now, though …

  It was like watching a choreographed dance. Each of Gada’s devastating swipes rushed through nothing but thin air. Elise danced over or under every blow. Outside or inside. She moved like she knew what would happen two steps in advance and was merely shuffling through the requisite counter-steps.

  She caught Gada’s flank with a sword strike that dropped him to a knee. She twisted under a grab and removed the offending hand at the thick wrist, bladed fingers and all. A deep cut to his chest. Another to the opposite leg. Elise dismantled Gada with disturbing efficiency until h
e collapsed at her feet, heaving with too much pain and bodily damage to do anything but stare in disbelief.

  On his knees, Gada’s eyes were only a foot above Elise’s. Close enough to level.

  She stood facing him, eyes brimming with the faint beginnings of a soft red glow.

  “For our master, Zar’Kole,” she growled, in a voice that reminded Rachel that Elise was not alone in there.

  Gada bared his fangs in a snarl.

  Then, with a tremendously fast swipe and a brilliant flash of azure, Elise cut his head off.

  Rachel and Jarek watched in stunned silence, leaning heavily on one another.

  Elise stood over her kill for a long breath, as if taking the moment to document the memory, then she spun and darted off toward Haldin and Kul’Naga, still clutching Jarek’s sword.

  A glance down the mountainside showed why.

  In the chaos, Rachel hadn’t had time to check how Haldin was faring—wasn’t even sure she’d wanted to know, considering. The answer was about as well as could be expected.

  The colossal dragon towered over Haldin, long neck lowered to their struggle. Haldin was braced on the ground, hands planted against two of Naga’s huge fangs. Rachel couldn’t quite tell if it was Naga trying to snap his prey up or Haldin trying to force his way in. Either way, neither one of them looked too happy about it.

  “Rache,” Jarek said behind her.

  She followed his gaze and saw Fraga picking himself up from the ground nearby. The small Kul shook himself off and considered the two of them for a long second.

  Rachel tensed, reaching for power she wasn’t sure she had any hope of finding. But then Fraga looked up to his brothers’ ship and vanished with a small pop.

  A sound of deep pain rumbled off to the right, and Rachel looked in time to see Jarek’s sword tearing free from one of Naga’s enormous red eyes to fly back to Elise’s hand as if on an invisible mag rail.

  Above, the ship drifted higher, easing forward to pass over Naga’s battle with the Enochians. A quick scan of the area around Mada told her Shimo and Vermaga must’ve boarded while Elise had been busy taking Gada to pieces.

  So, reasonably sure their backs were safe for the moment, Rachel and Jarek turned and began to limp their way toward Naga and the Enochians. They held onto one another for support, neither of them pointing out that both of their tanks were clearly too far past empty for them to expect to be much help in the fight.