Around him, Liam noticed the men nodding and quickly added one of his own to the mix. With a grim smile, Scott straightened, adjusted his grip on his scavenged rifle, and marched off into the darkness. The selected men trailed after him in a similar fashion, interspersed by gaps of a dozen paces.
The waiting was the worst part. Liam crouched there, doing his best to remain calm and focused as the soldiers dispersed and found sheltered positions of their own. He ignored the sounds of shuffling and painfully audible snapping of dried twigs, choosing instead to continue staring into the darkened woods ahead. Though Scott and his adjutants had long since vanished, he almost imagined he could see the forms of men moving amid the gloom.
He was so focused on the specters that he gasped aloud when a hand landed on his shoulder. Whirling, he discovered a sheepish-looking Nora crouched and holding a finger to her lips.
“Sorry,” she whispered, smiling with her eyes. “Did I startle you?”
Liam shrugged and shook his head, pulling his rifle firmly against his shoulder. Nora’s presence unnerved him; since leaving the Institute, she’d generally limited her company to Julie and Jenn.
“It’s fine,” he whispered back. “Everything okay? Where’s Morgan?”
“With Julie,” Nora said. Leaning to stare past him, she drew a slender, metal wand from a pocket and began to twirl it precisely between her fingers. It had the mien of a nervous habit, but knowing precisely how destructive Nora’s enhancement could be, the sight sent a disproportionately potent chill down Liam’s spine.
Try as he might, Liam could not look away from the spinning steel. It seemed to pull the memory to the forefront of his mind—a useless pistol sliding, spinning across the floor, coming to rest between him and his foe. Then a white-hot pain, the agony of a decimated body, and the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness.
Liam looked away, a bit too sharply. Nora noticed immediately.
“Sorry,” she said. Grimacing, she slid the wand back into its pocket. “I, uh, forgot.”
Liam shrugged and focused on his rifle. He’d suffered worse in the past and the pain had been worth the reward.
He was about to say as much to Nora when the first gunshots erupted in the distance.
Chapter Two
For a brief moment, as the rumbling echo of the first shots faded, a paralyzing disbelief seemed to hang overhead. It was replaced the next instant, as further gunshots sounded, with the irresistible urgency of hissed orders. Two of the militiamen hurried toward the rear of the convoy, moving to guard Julie and her children, while others cautiously advanced into the darkened woods to take up more secure positions.
Liam did not move. Sudden, unexpected fear had frozen him in place and he could only crouch there, rifle tucked against his shoulder. He might have remained that way perpetually, had Nora not reached out and touched him gently on the shoulder.
“Liam,” she said. Even in the darkness, the empathy was obvious in her eyes. “Go get him.”
Nodding, Liam obeyed. The second he’d taken the first step, the paralyzing fear seemed to vanish. On either side of the narrow, overgrown trail, the militiamen watched him with unreadable expressions as he moved ahead. The woods seemed to grow darker still as he passed them, every twisted branch becoming a rifle ready to lay him low.
After a hundred yards, Liam slowed. The trail he’d followed had all but disappeared, overgrown with thorny vines and withered bushes. Now, each step he took seemed a fight all on its own. For each glance he aimed down his rifle’s sights, it took a half-dozen to navigate through the foliage.
Until it didn’t. Quiet as a whisper, Jenn dropped from the trees above him and landed effortlessly in a graceful crouch before him. Her hands were outstretched and wherever her fingers met the plant life, it instantly seemed to crumble away. In seconds, she had cleared the path ahead of him.
Liam nearly thanked her aloud before he remembered himself. Instead, he proceeded at a guarded creep and offered an appreciative nod as he drew level with her. Alongside him, Jenn grinned and returned the gesture. Shrugging, she wrapped the many vines of her outfit tightly around herself like armor, covering her and leaving only a thin strip around her eyes and nose exposed, then inched onward and continued to the clear the path ahead.
Scanning the darkness, Liam forced himself to breathe quietly. There was still no sign of Scott or his men. Even more curious, there seemed to be little evidence of their having passed through. Though he trusted Scott’s abilities to move unseen far more than he did his own, it still seemed unthinkable that the man could have made so much progress without the same difficulty Liam was encountering.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t given much time to consider the matter.
With a wave of her hand, Jenn destroyed a particularly thick clump of vines to reveal a thick log fallen across their path. This would not normally have been an issue, had many of the tree’s branches not remained intact, stretching vertically like the bars of a prison cell. Even stripped of its many leaves, the branches remained inconveniently broad.
Jenn glanced at him, then vaulted the log and slipped carefully through an available gap. Landing on the other side, she extended a hand through and gestured for his rifle. Grimacing, he fed it gingerly through the gap, stock-first.
A sudden rustle of leaves overhead made his heart skip a beat.
“Liam!” Kathryn called. Her voice was not as loud as usual, but startled him like a gunshot inches from his ear. “Here! Can help!”
Lunging, Liam clapped a hand over her mouth. He’d misjudged the distance, however, and only succeeded in hauling the girl out of the canopy where she’d hidden. Squawking, Kathryn landed atop him in a heap.
Furious, Liam rolled and pressed a hand tightly over the girl’s mouth and held a finger to his lips. As he climbed to his feet, however, he could tell instantly that something was wrong. On the other side of the makeshift barricade, Jenn’s face was one of fear, not anger.
With a sudden jerk, Jenn lurched upward into the trees. Her vines carried her fast as lightning, but no sooner had she moved than a burst of gunfire slammed into the fallen tree. Liam’s rifle hurtled back through the gap he’d used to pass it, striking his shoulder and numbing his arm as the weapon clattered to the dirt. He scrambled to retrieve it, clumsily shifting it to a ready position as he returned to the tree.
Glancing to the spot where Kathryn had fallen, he was half-relieved, half-disgusted to find her gone. With a shrug, he returned his gaze to the front.
Liam saw the blur of movement at once, but it was not until he heard the voices that he was able to identify what he was looking at.
“Banzou,” ordered a distant, tinny voice that crackled with static.
He could see eight of them, dark figures clad in greens and browns. Under different circumstances, there was no possible way he would have seen them. But these figures carried weapons that practically gleamed in the cloud-filtered moonlight.
Five were heading his way, slowly and professionally. Three remained behind, some hundred yards distant. They were not alone, however. Liam could see the shape of men kneeling before them, hands twisted and bound behind their backs.
Breathing deep, Liam maneuvered his rifle until he had the first of the approaching men in his sights. His finger settled on the trigger. And squeezed.
Nothing happened.
Mouthing a furious curse, Liam squinted at his rifle and struggled to make out the details. Had something broken when Jenn threw it back to him? He discovered the answer mercifully quick; no, he’d simply forgotten the safety.
Flipping the safety off, he once again lined up his shot. This time, however, it was a nagging doubt that stayed his hand. An image filled his mind’s eye, born in the brief span it had taken to inspect his rifle.
If he shot now, he might very well slay the five men seeking him. But their comrades would not stand idly by as he did so. They would come to join the fight. And prisoners of war would
not be an obstacle to that purpose.
Grimacing, Liam turned his sights on the men at the rear. There were three, but only the centermost had his weapon trained on the prisoners. Another held his pistol at his side. The third seemed to be fiddling with his uniform.
There could be no bracing himself. Aiming as best his trembling hands would allow, Liam fired.
His first shot was remarkably accurate; the man he’d been aiming at dropped instantly. Unfortunately, his second shot only staggered the second man and his third soared overhead as both remaining men took cover. By the time Liam could even think of aiming again, his world erupted with gunfire.
His would-be ambush had exposed his position to the men seeking him and Liam could only hunker down as the crack of rifles practically deafened him. Wood splintered around him, mixed with who-knew-what-else as the Occs returned fire. A sudden jolt like a fist to his lower back told him that he’d been hit at least once, but he felt no pain from the blow. And, as the rate of fire dwindled, the wound did nothing to prevent him from climbing to his feet.
Scurrying to the other edge of the narrow path Jenn had cleared, Liam eased his rifle through the withered greenery and sought the men who’d guarded the prisoners. There was still no sight of them, or of the men who they’d overseen.
But, as he hunted through the darkness, Liam did spot something else. A pale face, standing out from the scenery, half-hidden behind the silver-on-black of a rifle. A face that looked his way.
The world exploded without warning. First in blackness and then with a tremendous roaring that filled his ears in an endless loop. It was not until he felt the sturdiness of the ground beneath his back that he realized he’d been shot and had fallen.
His hands were empty. Liam scrounged for his rifle a moment, only to discover that his body would not obey him and that his searching had been purely in his mind. He lay there, blind and unmoving, too bewildered to be afraid. There was still no pain, but neither was there anything else. He was alone in his thoughts, seemingly cut off from the world.
And then, with an audible pop, the world returned.
Liam lunged upright, gasping for breath and unable to precisely identify why. His face and neck were dripping and it took him a moment to comprehend the reason. Blood had pooled in the divots and creases of his face, running down in great strands and globs as he sat up. Wiping it away from his eyes and mouth with a sleeve, he spared only a single thought for what had happened.
He’d been shot—in the head, no less.
Liam felt like laughing but settled for a devious smirk. He snatched up his rifle where it had fallen and staggered to his feet.
No sooner had he risen than, with the snapping of wood, a man climbed over the fallen tree. The man blinked in surprise to find Liam on his feet, then lifted his rifle.
Liam shot him through the heart. His foe managed to get off four or five rounds in the time it took him to shoot, but he barely felt the wounds. This time, he did laugh. Why in the world had he ever been afraid of such men? He could recover in seconds from any harm they might do him! Without death, without pain, what power could they hold over him?
Tossing his rifle through the gap, Liam vaulted over the barricade. Apparently, the recent gunfire had alerted the men on the other side to his continued presence. They had not, however, bothered to take defensive positions. The four men stood around him in a half-circle, faces incredulous and rifles at the ready.
Liam shot them, one by one. And, perhaps aided by their disbelief, he suffered only a pair of gunshot wounds in the process.
Chuckling, Liam fished out a fresh magazine from the pocket of his makeshift uniform and inserted it as he strode toward the spot he’d last seen the remaining men. His smile faded as he drew near, however, and the memory of what he might find returned to him. What would it matter if he was invulnerable if he’d failed to rescue Scott?
“Tíngzhù!” bellowed a high-pitched voice to his right. Even from a single word, Liam could hear the panic tinting the speaker’s voice.
He turned, stomach clenching painfully tight at the sight that greeted him. The two remaining Occs hid behind trees, virtually hidden from sight. Bound and gagged, a pair of men lay prone at their feet. This would not necessarily have been a reason for dread, had it not also been for the revolvers aimed at each captive’s head.
Liam’s eyes met Scott’s and the man slowly shook his head.
Flashing what he hoped was a reassuring smile, Liam slowly lowered, then dropped his rifle. No sooner had it landed than one of the Occs lifted his pistol and shot Liam squarely in the chest.
He tried not to flinch, but couldn’t help himself. Admittedly, his reaction was more due to the loudness of the revolver than the impact of the bullet. In any case, he made a show of ignoring the shooter and simply wiped more of the blood off his face with his thoroughly soiled sleeve.
The man fired twice more and this time, Liam was able to keep himself from reacting. He grinned as the two Occs exchanged glances and a few quick words that he was unable to follow. Then he cleared his throat.
In a heartbeat, the two men were focused intently on him.
Liam gestured slowly, unwilling to be misunderstood. He pointed to himself, to Scott, and to the other captive in turn, then back the direction he’d come. Then, with the opposite hand, he indicated the two Occs and pointed deliberately in the opposite direction. As negotiations went, it could hardly have been clearer if he’d spoken their language.
Again, the Occs exchanged glances and a few words. Then, after a remarkably brief deliberation, they nodded and cautiously eased out from behind their respective trees. From there, they circled slowly, matching Liam’s feet until they could retreat without turning their back to him. It was only then that they cautiously returned their revolvers to their holsters and began to withdraw.
Liam didn’t even have to call Jenn’s name. Before the men had gone more than a dozen paces, javelins lanced down from the treetops. The men were skewered in an instant, offering only weak, gurgling cries in response.
Kathryn too, apparently unwilling to be left out, hurtled down from her hiding spot. Between her knives and fangs, the Occs were dead before Liam reached Scott’s side.
Kneeling, Liam offered Scott a grimacing smile as he pulled the gag out of the man’s mouth. Scott spat noisily once it was free, shaking his head and struggling back up to his knees. Once there, he contorted himself and managed to retrieve a small knife from his boot. In an instant, he’d sliced his bonds and was already moving to assist his adjutant.
“Get your rifle,” Scott said. He hesitated, then added, “And grab Hensley’s too. We’ll need it.”
Liam had been about to obey, but something in Scott’s voice made him pause.
“Why?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
Grumbling, Scott returned the knife to his boot and hauled Sessions to his feet. Stomping to Liam’s side, he grabbed a fistful of hair and drew their brows sharply together. He did not seem disturbed by the blood congealing on Liam’s forehead.
“You should have left us, idiot,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t have saved us!”
Bewildered, Liam could offer no reply. Letting out a shaky breath, Scott pulled him into a tight hug. And from there, he muttered directly into Liam’s ear.
“Thank you for doing it, Liam,” Scott said. “But every Occ in the state heard that shooting. We need to move or we’re all going to die. And we need to move now.”
Chapter Three
It did not take long for the rest of the convoy to catch up. No doubt they’d heard the shooting and hurried to catch up. They were appropriately impressed by the number of dead Occs, but the mood swiftly turned somber upon discovering the executed Hensley’s body. The quiet didn’t last long, however, as a majority of the men moved on to admire Jenn and Kathryn’s gruesome handiwork.
Liam ignored them. The sight of the impaled Occs had begun to turn his stomach, though he c
ouldn’t be certain it was entirely due to their gory fate. Scott’s words continued to run through his mind, over and over. If it had been up to him, they would have moved out immediately.
Fortunately, Scott seemed to agree. The man was busy corralling his men and preparing them to continue. This distraction left Liam free to turn his attention to the newest figures to emerge from the darkness.
Julie and Nora appeared in tandem, each holding one of the former’s children. Swallowing hard, Liam did his best to smile. Julie returned it but Nora paled and hurried toward him, cradling Morgan against her chest.
“Liam!” she whispered urgently. Her brow furrowed as she reached out to examine the holes torn in his uniform by the gunshots he’d momentarily suffered. “Are you okay? What happened?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he offered the rifle he’d retrieved from Hensley and waited until she’d slung it over her shoulder.
“I’m fine,” he said. He glanced over as Julie reached Nora’s side. “Scott’s fine too. There were Occs. They’re dead now, but we need to move quickly.”
“They shot you,” Nora said.
Liam shrugged and looked around. Scott had finished organizing his men and now gazed significantly back at Liam. His impatience was obvious.
There was no sign of Jenn or Kathryn.
“Barely felt a thing,” Liam said. “Come on. We need to go.”
He could tell that Nora wanted to question him further, but Liam was in no mood to indulge her. His paranoia was building and he could hardly wait to leave this place behind. The bodies of the slain Occs seemed liable to cry out at any moment and each second he remained near them left him increasingly anxious. Moving as quickly as he dared, he made his way back toward Scott and took up his usual place near the head of the convoy.
Scott acknowledged him with a nod and a deferential wave to indicate he ought to take point. Liam couldn’t help but notice a slight tremble to the man’s hand.
Feral Empires: Fanning Flames Page 2
