Echoes of War

by Cheryl Campbell

  Tears fell from his cheeks to her face as he leaned over her corpse. The hole in her chest was from his weapon. He groaned and placed his hand over the wound. It wasn’t bleeding anymore. He lifted Dani and pulled her close.

  “You weren’t supposed to be here,” he moaned. “I’m sorry, Dani. I’m so sorry.”

  He lowered his head and wept, still clinging on to her. Then a sudden pain tore through his back, and he rocked forward, stunned into releasing Dani from his arms. As he turned, another strike caught him in the head. He collapsed across Dani’s body, unconscious.

  “Killed by her lover this time, eh, Miles? Thanks for that,” Jace said. He grabbed the back of Miles’s collar to pull him off Dani. After lowering the MP to the ground, Jace reached into his bag.

  A blue glow started at the core of Dani’s body and grew brighter. Jace threw a tattered blanket over her to hide the light. The broken bones in her arm and skull shifted beneath the skin. The color spread to her face and limbs. Jace placed the two pistols Miles had dropped in his bag, then slung the pack over his head again, adjusting the strap so it fell across his chest. His arms free, he leaned over Dani’s shrinking form and wrapped her tightly with the blanket, leaving enough fabric to drape across her blood-smeared face.

  Dani’s body continued to heal as she changed from a twenty-five-year-old woman to a ten-year-old girl. Jace pulled her now-oversize boots off and threw them several feet away, into the plethora of litter around them. He’d get her out of the adult clothes later.

  All sounds of plasma pistols stopped, and Jace hoped the MPs had defeated the last Warden. He slipped the quake rifle’s strap over his shoulder and scooped Dani into his arms. Her body moved inside the blanket as she drew in her first breath in her healed form.

  Jace took a final look at the MP who had accidentally shot her. “I knew you were trouble,” he said with a frown.

  Miles stirred but didn’t wake. Dani wouldn’t remember him anyway.

  As he’d done twice before, Jace carried his regenerated sister’s body away from where she’d been killed.

  CHAPTER

  11

  Jace moved silently through the rubble, Dani gripped tightly in his arms. He stopped every few steps to listen. The two remaining MPs, excluding Miles, were making enough noise between them to hide any moan Dani might make as she continued to recover. He passed by the base of the angled concrete slab and paused. The unconscious Warden Dani had defeated remained where she’d left him. She’d saved Miles’s life long enough so he could shoot her by mistake.

  His warning to her this morning had not changed her fate. She’d still died by friendly fire, with a gun in her hand.

  A new noise began in the distance. The rhythmic thumping grew louder, and Jace started moving again, this time with less heed for a quiet escape. His progress halted when he rounded a turn and found plasma pistols pointed at his head. He froze before the MPs.

  “Don’t move,” the man said.

  Jace’s eyes flicked between the MPs and his surroundings. He read the names on their uniforms. Coulson and Elmore.

  Jace held Dani closer to his chest. “Please. My granddaughter was injured. I need to get her away from this building before more parts collapse.”

  “How did you end up with a quake rifle?” Coulson asked.

  “I picked it up off the ground,” Jace said.

  “Where’s the Brigand woman?” Coulson asked.

  Jace shrugged. “Dead, I guess. She was shot, and I saw her fall.”

  “Give us the rifle,” Elmore said.

  “I need it to trade for medical care for my granddaughter. Let us pass, and I’ll tell you where to find your injured MP. His uniform says Jackman on it.”

  The female MP stepped closer to Jace, weapon still raised. “How do we know he’s still alive?”

  “Because I didn’t kill him when I had the chance. He is injured, though, and will need your help to stay alive. Those were more Warden helos passing overhead a moment ago. Shoot us if you want, but I’m not staying here any longer to wait for their reinforcements to march through,” Jace said.

  Coulson lowered her pistol, and Elmore did the same.

  “Where’s Jackman?” Coulson asked.

  Jace turned and nodded his head. “He’s lying on the other side of that slab. I suggest you find your man and leave while you can.”

  “Come with us, and we’ll get your granddaughter the care she needs,” Coulson said.

  “And be forced into the CNA army after? No thanks.” Jace walked forward and stepped between the officers. They didn’t try to stop him as he left. He glanced back and saw them jogging in Miles’s direction.

  Daylight was waning and more Wardens were arriving as Jace made his way through the city. His body ached, and he was out of breath from carrying his sister for the last few hours. He had been in his mid-forties the last time he’d had to carry her. Now in his early sixties, his strength began to fail, exactly as he’d feared. He didn’t want her near anyone else while she recovered, but if he was to keep her alive, he needed help.

  Going against his desire to remain hidden from all others, including Brigands, Jace carried his sister to an abandoned home west of Portland known for sheltering Brigands.

  He traded the rifle for a private room for one night, five days of food and water, and two sets of child-size clothing. The quake rifle was worth more than any other weapon currency. He followed the woman managing the house to the rear of the structure. Brigands lined the stairs going to the upper level, and he stepped around and over people staying the night on the floor. Whatever they had traded in exchange for accommodations didn’t compare to a quake rifle.

  Jace carried Dani to their room and placed her on the rumpled mattress on the floor as their host placed a sack on the floor containing the agreed-upon food, water, and clothes. “It’s not much space,” she said, “but it’s private. This used to be a walk-in closet off the master bedroom. Can you believe people once owned enough clothes they needed a closet to walk through to get to them all?”

  “No. It seems impossible that life was ever like that.” Jace’s face flushed at this unexpected small talk with a stranger.

  The woman smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re Echo-friendly here. Who is she? And don’t give me that granddaughter crap.”

  “My sister.”

  The woman nodded. “Need a hand getting her cleaned up and changed?”

  “Yes!” Jace said, almost pleading. He reached for his bag. “I can pay you—”

  “No need,” she said.

  He helped her unwind the blanket from around Dani’s body. The woman left for a few minutes, and Jace removed Dani’s socks, now four sizes too big. He found a mostly clean rag in his bag and wiped at the smears of dried blood on her face. The woman returned with ragged cloths and a bowl full of water. Jace busied himself with the sack, moving the food and water to his own bag while the woman washed Dani. She hummed a song as she worked, and he groaned when he removed the impossibly small clothing from the sack.

  “She’s lucky to have you,” the woman said as she took the clothes from Jace’s hands. She dressed Dani in a faded blue T-shirt and tattered jeans that were still too big for her ten-year-old frame.

  Jace placed the extra set of clothes in his bag and pawed through the bloodstained adult clothing the woman had tossed to the floor after removing it from Dani’s tiny frame. He found a half-eaten food wafer in her pocket. He removed the empty knife sheath and water pouch from her belt. After stowing the water in his bag, he pulled her belt from her trousers. He rolled her pants, socks, and belt before putting them in his stuffed bag. He left the blood-soaked tee with a hole through the front. If she grew as quickly as she had in her former pre-teen years, she’d be back in the trousers and socks by the time she reached fifteen. Clothes were often harder to find than food these days.

  The woman finished dressing Dani and gathered the T-shirt, rags, and bowl, now full of red-tinged water. “Where will you go
?”

  “I don’t know,” Jace said.

  The woman nodded and left the room. Jace pulled his blanket over Dani’s small form and stared at her for a moment. He stepped out of the room and leaned his back against the door. Most of the Brigands staying in the house slept, but a group of three men and a woman huddled in a corner of the former master bedroom that had been turned into a communal floor space for sleeping. Jace listened as they talked.

  “We’re going west,” one man said with a nod at the woman next to him.

  “You can’t survive in the mountains long. You have no gear and the snow starts flying next month,” another man wearing a dark jacket said. “We’re going north, to Bangor.”

  “Yep, north,” the third man said. “It’s too rural for the Wardens to care about. There are less than a hundred Commonwealth ground troops there. Some MPs in the mix, but the Brigands control much of the area.”

  The woman frowned. “Until the Wardens arrive with their tech and blast everything to dust.”

  “Nah. There isn’t anything of value in the north that the Commonwealth or Wardens want,” her companion said.

  “You’re saying we should go to Bangor too?” the woman asked.

  “It’s not the worst idea we’ve ever had.” He turned to the other man. “How are you getting there?”

  “I have a man that can transport us as far north as Waterville. Three- to four-hour ride on back roads. It’s all walking after that.”

  “How much is the transport?” Jace asked.

  The Brigands turned to him at his question. “For you and the dead kid you carried through here?”

  “She’s not dead, just injured during the fighting today. She only needs a little time to rest, and she’ll be fine,” Jace said. “How much?”

  The man in the dark coat eyed him for a moment. “Got another quake rifle?”

  “No, but I have another weapon I can trade.” He had two older plasma pistols stolen from Miles, a knife, and Dani’s revolver, but he was careful to only indicate that he had a single weapon. He had enough problems caring for a child; he didn’t need to set himself up to be robbed.

  “Like what?” the man asked.

  Jace grinned. “Nice try. In case you can’t tell by my gray hair, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “We’re leaving mid-morning to meet my contact. Show me what you have then, and I’ll decide if you and the kid can come.”

  Jace shrugged. “Fair enough.” He turned to go back into the room but paused when the woman who had helped him returned.

  She handed him another small sack. “Socks, a fleece, and a jacket. The boots will be too big for her, hence two pairs of socks.”

  Jace stared at the bag. He needed the clothes for Dani, but he also needed to trade for their transportation north.

  “Don’t worry about paying for these,” she said. “I was about her age when my older sister was taken by the Wardens. I like to think my sister is still alive, but I can’t imagine the horror of surviving as an Echo under Warden rule. Can you?”

  Jace shook his head. “Thank you, for everything.”

  She nodded and left. Jace entered the room and barricaded the door with a chair. He placed the newest sack beside the mattress before sitting next to Dani. His shoulders sagged, and he stared at the floor. He perked up when a small hand emerged from the blanket, reaching for him.

  Jace took Dani’s hand, and she gave him a sleepy smile.

  “Don’t worry, Jason,” she said.

  He gasped; she had never remembered him before following a regen.

  CHAPTER

  12

  Rowan moaned and opened his eyes. Still lying on his back on the concrete slab, he lifted his hand, which was covered in half-dried blood. He flexed his fingers, and the stiffer, dried blood cracked with the movement. He rolled over with a curse and clumsily pushed himself to his feet. He’d died with his knife still in his other hand, so he resheathed it. He picked up the Brigand woman’s blade, the one she’d used to kill him. He considered discarding the inferior knife, but he decided to keep it. If she was still alive, he wanted to use it on her. His brow creased as he stared at the knife.

  He should be dead, permanently. He wondered what had stopped her from finishing the job. He scanned the area, pieced together the events that had preceded her attack. He’d had four MPs pinned behind a cinderblock wall. During the fighting, the woman leapt to the slab from the second floor. Now she was gone, and so was his quake rifle.

  Bitch.

  He stumbled down the slab to reach the ground floor.

  This was his sixth time dying. At least his recovery time was fast. He checked the bodies of dead Wardens and MPs in the area and found an older plasma pistol. The Wardens’ throats were cut, and their weapons and armor taken. Rowan was lucky the MPs hadn’t found him at the top of the slab, or he wouldn’t be walking around now.

  He searched the area but didn’t find the woman. If she lived, she’d escaped.

  Several rifle shots from outside the structure gained his attention, and he left the building. He smiled to see eight Wardens marching twenty-five captured Brigands and MPs at gunpoint through the street—but his initial jog to catch up ended after the first two steps. His side still ached from being stabbed. Pain following a traumatic death tended to take a few more hours to leave the body after regeneration.

  The other Wardens recognized him, and Rowan raised his pistol skyward in greeting. After catching up to the group of captives, Rowan strolled past them, inspecting each face carefully.

  “Sir?”

  Rowan turned to the Warden who spoke.

  The other man stared at Rowan’s side, and Rowan looked down, noting his blood-soaked clothing from his flank to his knee.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I’m looking for a Brigand woman. Small frame. Short hair.”

  “We don’t have anyone fitting that description, sir. The people here are the only ones we’ve found thus far that are still alive.”

  Rowan frowned and returned his attention to the prisoners. “Brigand. Mid twenties. Short, dark hair and wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt and MP uniform pants. MP-issue boots. She had a bandage on her right hand. Anyone who can tell me where she is, dead or alive,” he said louder, looking at the Brigands, “I’ll let you go free as soon as I find her.”

  “We caught a woman who looked like that, but she got away when a Warden hit the building with a quake grenade,” one of the MPs said.

  “Nice try, but tough luck”—Rowan paused to read the name on the man’s uniform—“Kipp. I saw her after the quake grenade. Anyone else? How about a name?” He paced in front of the Brigands. “Surely one of you knows her.”

  “Will I go free if I tell you her name?” a young Brigand male asked.

  Rowan walked along the line of prisoners to face the man that spoke. “Give me her name, and I’ll give you a head start. If you can avoid capture a second time, you’re free.”

  The muscles in the man’s jaw tightened and relaxed as he considered his chances of escape. Rowan tried to smile reassuringly at him, but it turned into a sneer.

  “Dani. She lives in B Block, but I don’t know where.”

  “Excellent! Last name?” Rowan asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Rowan waved his hand, gesturing for the man to leave the line. The Brigand took a few cautious steps away from the others before bolting.

  “Anyone else know her last name?” Rowan checked the plasma pistol in his hand. Despite having been used in a long battle against the Wardens, the formerly MP-owned weapon retained half a charge and roughly thirty plasma rounds.

  The group remained silent, and Rowan turned away from them. He aimed his pistol at the fleeing Brigand and fired one shot. The young man tumbled forward and sprawled face down in the street. He didn’t move again.

  Rowan approached the Wardens still guarding the remaining captives. “Guess he couldn’t avoid getting caught again,” he said with a shrug, and the War
dens chuckled.

  Another Warden approached, and Rowan smiled “Curtis! You’re late to the party, as usual.”

  “I am,” Curtis said. “Bad day? You’re looking a bit younger than when I saw you yesterday.”

  Rowan rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

  Curtis snorted a laugh. “What is that? Five?”

  “Six.”

  Curtis laughed louder.

  “Shut up. You have a harder time staying alive than I do. We’ll have a party if you ever reach thirty before another regen.”

  “Fair enough. This looks like it could be interesting,” Curtis said with a nod of his head at the prisoners. “What do you plan to do with the humans? We could use them for labor.”

  “Yeah, but they’ll just die and then we have to deal with bodies. Non-compliant Echoes are better at labor. They just keep coming back to work some more.”

  Rowan and Curtis shared a laugh while the prisoners shifted uncomfortably. Rowan enjoyed watching them suffer. The humans in the group would die in the next few minutes. But the Echoes would have an even worse fate.

  Rowan addressed the guards. “Kill them all. Once you ID the Echoes, take them to the barracks to begin conditioning. Compliant Echoes will enter combat training. Non-compliant ones become laborers.”

  Pleas and promises to work faithfully for the Wardens erupted from some of the prisoners, but Rowan ignored them.

  “Burn the human bodies,” Curtis said to the guards.

  “No.” Rowan shook his head. “Leave them in the street. As soon as the Echoes are moved, we raid B Block. I have someone I hope to find there.” With that, he raised his pistol and began firing into the group of prisoners. They tried to scatter, but the other Wardens also opened fire and cut them down.

  In less than a minute, the captives lay in growing pools of blood.

  “Who are you looking for?” Curtis asked as he holstered his pistol.

  “A woman.” Rowan pointed at his side.