by L. E. Horn
Another familiar sound caused the rebel captain to throw himself into a forward roll when a commando switched his laser to broad beam and fired. Drake came out of the roll on his feet and returned fire before diving behind a shed.
He waited for another burst of laser fire, but it never came. Drake crouched to peer around the shed’s corner and saw Michael, his long sword streaked with gore, standing over the commando’s body. Behind him, the dust settled on the remains of the building. Nothing moved inside.
Michael’s hand tightened on his sword when Drake stepped clear. The big man’s eyes blazed pure gold through tangled black hair and his long teeth flashed white through the smoke. Drake raised his hands and quietly spoke his name. He knew from experience there hadn’t been enough action for the Berserker in Michael. The rage still flooded his system.
Activity from the west drew Michael’s attention and Drake followed his gaze to see Lianndra, Andrea, and Hannah already at work, their hands busy disabling the collars of the incoming unit. The slaves milled in a group surrounded by five of Drake’s men. Sean embraced a slave that looked vaguely familiar.
Nice to see them getting along. So much for my blokes following orders, Drake thought in disgust, meeting Sean’s eyes. The tall blond man had the nerve to shrug and smile at him. Drake didn’t like to discourage initiative, especially when it worked, but . . . I will bust his ass later.
He returned his gaze to Michael, only to see the big man disappearing into the jungle. Drake sighed, wishing Michael could deal differently with the remnants of his Berserker rages. He hated the risk of him heading out alone.
Mind you, I pity the Fang that stumbles across him in the dark.
Drake headed over to help bring new rebels into the ranks.
SEAN STRAIGHTENED FROM HIS CROUCH when he saw Michael finish off the last commando. He tensed when the bushes behind him rustled, but it was James and two other soldiers. Lianndra, Andrea, and Hannah dropped from the trees overhead and jogged toward the slaves milling in the clearing.
“All the Healers are free,” James informed Sean as they followed the Healers.
Sean nodded and slung the rifle over his shoulder. The new soldiers watched as they approached. Many held their weapons in defensive positions, uncertain as to the newcomers’ intent.
“Sean?” A lithe brown figure moved out of the group. “Is it really you?”
“Tomas!” Sean’s mouth widened into a grin as his old friend wrapped slim arms around him. They had served in the same unit together for many months until Sean became part of Drake’s FHR division. Thank God he’s alive. I’ve feared the worst.
The remaining soldiers visibly relaxed as the two embraced.
When he hugged his friend, Sean felt the bones of shoulders and ribs through the ragged clothing. Always lean, Tomas had been reduced to skin and bones. These men are starving, Sean thought. How much longer can the Fang expect to keep going with their slaves dropping like flies?
Another man came forward to grip Sean’s hand.
“Eric! You’re still hanging out with this miscreant, eh? Man, it’s good to see you guys!” Sean recognized a few others from his former fighting unit. Not as many as I’d like, he thought. How many have died fighting this war? Out of the corner of his eye, Sean saw Drake looking their way. We’re supposed to be with the women. A stab of guilt pierced him as he smiled and shrugged at his captain. I’ll no doubt hear about this later.
“Who the hell is that?” Tomas’ dark eyes widened as he stared across the clearing at Michael.
Michael looked right at them with glowing gold eyes before turning and stalking into the jungle.
“That,” Sean replied with a heavy sigh, “is the reason you are now a free man.”
For a moment, Tomas’s eyes filled with questions. When offered nothing more, he slung an arm around Sean’s waist.
Sean laughed and shook his head at the gesture of affection. Some things never change, he thought. “You were right about us meeting again. You must’ve inherited the fortune-telling skills of your mother.”
“It was my grandmother,” Tomas said. “She was always right. As am I.”
THE TECHNICIAN HURRIED INTO Tark’tosk’s office, halting a good step or two back from the coordinator’s desk to make her harried report.
Tark’tosk stifled a snarl. This is what you get when you slice up a staff member. One of her aides had made an offhand comment about the Gryphon’s intelligence versus the frontline Farr’s. The aide would recover but would always bear scars. It will remind her to keep quiet. Tark’tosk’s temper lately had been uncertain at best. By the look on my tech’s face, I will not be feeling better anytime soon.
“There has been an attack on an outpost,” the tech blurted, darting forward to hand the coordinator a datachrys.
She stepped back quickly when Tark’tosk’s nostrils flared. On an outpost? A high-risk target for the rebel humans. Tark’tosk slipped the datachrys into her console and listened in astonishment to the brief message from the commando leader. Brief, indeed. The message consisted of a simple warning they were under attack, cut off in midsentence. The voice of a tech took over, explaining about the destruction of a unit of commandos and that a Tlok’mk frontline fighting unit had gone missing. Then the datachrys showed images of the outpost on the map, relative to the front lines and to Tark’tosk’s barracks.
Why take down an outpost? Why risk taking on a commando unit so far into the jungle? It dawned on Tark’tosk she asked the wrong question. Why were the commandos there in the first place?
Her twin hearts started to beat faster. She hammered at her console, summoning the unit assignments in the sector. Her eyes widened. She stood, making the tech take another step backward.
The Healers. The rebels are after those accursed Healers! Her breath hissed through pointed teeth. But the Healers are not supposed to be at that outpost. By now, they should be about a day’s march from Tark’tosk’s barracks where they would be interrogated before shipping the survivors back to the genetics labs on the Motherships. Why were they being held in a small outpost three days away from here?
Her orders had been clear, but somewhere along the line they had been altered. Tark’tosk’s blood boiled. Someone will pay for this. For now, she must act before the rebels added all those Healers to their ranks. More Healers meant more collars disabled and more slaves freed. The slave situation would snowball.
Tark’tosk stalked out of her office, blasting past the frightened tech. She shouted orders before she even entered the main strategy room. Techs hopped to their consoles, sending frantic messages to the units nearest the outpost.
Tark’tosk lifted her lips, showing teeth all the way to the back of her throat. “Find them!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
ALONG WITH TWENTY NEW SOLDIERS, the rescue mission added thirty-eight Healers of various abilities to the rebel cause.
Many women were in terrible shape despite their self-healing skills. The women’s physical and emotional injuries hampered the group’s progress back through the jungle, so Lianndra placed the most traumatized into a semiconscious state and the men carried them. Michael reappeared just in time to boost one across his broad shoulders. Stretchers would have been too cumbersome as the group still ducked off the paths at regular intervals to avoid Fang units.
Now responsible for over seventy lives, Drake had his hands full. Even with Kate and Laura scouting ahead from in the trees, moving a group this size unnoticed through the jungle had its challenges. He also didn’t know whether to trust the newly freed soldiers. Considering they outnumbered his men two-to-one and were still in shock at their sudden turn of fortune, the situation required caution. They seemed to respect his authority but were slow to react, so he kept them together within the column, just behind the group of Healers. His experienced men watched for anyone trying to desert back to a Fang unit. It was especially dicey when they hid from incoming units—a single noise could alert the Fang.
&nbs
p; The dynamics of getting that many people quietly off the pathways and hidden in the jungle was a nightmare. After their third time hiding while the Fang marched by, Drake took Andrea and Hannah off their healing duties and sent them into the trees to aid Kate and Laura. This provided greater coverage and bought his people more time to hide from the Fang.
Drake placed Michael centrally within the rebel group. The man could protect them best from there. Fortunately, the newly freed slaves had seen the big guy in action. Drake understood the influence and power of Michael’s presence in the group. He doubted the recent additions would want to end up on the Berserker’s bad side.
The Fang units were plentiful and difficult to avoid, making Drake suspicious the commandos must have got a message out before Michael killed them. He pushed his people hard—too hard for some women. They struggled, and an increasing number needed help as they moved along the trail. Avoiding the Fang pushed them off course—they still headed for the grasslands, but nowhere near their planned extraction site.
There finally came a point when Drake conceded they weren’t going to make it.
He pulled everyone into hiding and headed into the trees for better reception, risking a call to Karn on his long-distance comm to update the big Gryph.
“Hold,” Karn said, once Drake briefed him on the situation. A few minutes later, he came back online with coordinates, his deep voice rumbling a single word. “River.”
Drake traced the coordinates on his datapad and found what the Gryphon spoke of: a small river penetrating deep into the jungle from the grasslands.
Fresh surface water of any kind was rare on Tarin since most ran underground. The frequent jungle storms temporarily filled the creeks and rivers before soaking into the soil. The river Karn intended to reach Drake by was one of the few permanently filled with water.
“Understood. Will send an ETA when I’m able.” Drake knew the permanent waterways and the intermittently filled creeks provided the Gryphon with a means of reaching them through the dense jungle. He just had to get his people to the river.
Easy as frying bacon, thought Drake. If only I could cook.
They could only use established trails at the beginning of the journey. The last segment would be the most difficult, involving hacking their way through the undergrowth. Which will be a challenge, Drake thought. They were all tired, especially the rescued women.
Drake sighed and got the big group moving. A short while later they paused on a beaten trail, surveying the thick foliage off to one side.
Hannah dropped in from above. “This is the point where we leave the trail,” she said. “Andrea has found the river. It’s about a mile in.”
Drake surveyed the wall of green. Beating through that mess will take time and energy. It’ll be obvious to any passing Fang unit where we’ve gone.
Lianndra had taken her turn with the exhausted Healers, helping to boost their energy and their spirits. She came forward now, examining the dense brush and raising her eyes to look at the canopy overhead. Drake followed her gaze, feeling his eyebrows climb toward his hairline.
She turned to face the women. “Anyone fit to take to the trees?” she asked.
Although exhausted, a few faces brightened at the prospect. The Healers looked to the beckoning canopy.
Drake’s eyebrows climbed even higher and his thoughts raced. If we take to the trees, we could lose our pursuers. But how do I convert thirty soldiers and a bunch of debilitated Healers to ape men?
“Who can help get these blokes up there, even just for a short distance?” he asked, meeting the women’s eyes.
There was movement from among the Healers, a shuffling of bodies. Four stepped forward, followed slowly by three more. A tall woman emerged from the back, her tangled dark hair falling in waves almost to her waist.
“Hello, Lianndra,” she said. “Do you remember me?”
“Beth?” Lianndra sounded shocked. Drake assumed she knew the woman from a previous encounter.
“I think we have friends in common.” Beth gestured to the small group of Healers around her.
Lianndra looked relieved as she turned to Drake. “We have as much help as we’ll need.”
Drake noticed a glimmer of humor in the Healers’ eyes at the suggestion of being the rescuers, instead of the rescued.
“Progress will be slow, but not as slow as hacking our way through. The upper canopy would work best. The branches interconnect,” Lianndra surveyed overhead.
Drake grimaced. Soldiers two-hundred feet in the air? This won’t be pretty.
“What if we deployed a decoy?” Michael’s deep voice sounded rough, as it always did after the rage rode him. “A decoy could leave a trail to keep the Fang confused until the main group is safely away.”
Drake’s thoughts flowed along similar lines. With all the Fang units around, a group this size is living free on borrowed time. If the majority headed off to meet with the Gryphon, a small decoy group could keep the Fang guessing by feigning activity along the established pathways.
Drake nodded. “Good idea.”
“My idea,” Michael said, “therefore, my lead.”
“My risk. My decision.”
“No, it isn’t.” Michael’s deep voice was firm. “We need you to get these people home. I can crash around out here, keep them excited, and head for the borderlands.”
“He’s right, Drake,” Lianndra said. “I’ll fly scout for Michael.”
Drake opened his mouth to retort, met Hannah’s eyes, and closed it again. He sighed. Great. I am sending the Berserker and his primary detonator against deranged Fang out for blood. That’s sure to go well. He ran a hand through his hair. Although I admit I have limited choices. “All right, but I’m not leaving you out here alone.” He raised his voice to the others. “I need a few volunteers to go with them to help lay a convincing trail.”
Sean stepped forward from the rear, but before he could speak, Andrea said. “I can go if you can spare me.”
Drake nodded in relief at Andrea and Sean. Sean grinned at his captain when the slim soldier from the newly freed unit also volunteered.
If Sean vouches for him, he’s in, Drake thought. Andrea and Sean will be perfect buffers between Michael and Lianndra. I hope they can stop them from doing anything too foolish. If something happens and Michael goes berserk, Sean can take control and keep everyone safe.
“I’m pretty certain they’re searching for us. The commando team must have got a message to headquarters, which means more units will be diverted to this area.” Drake caught Sean’s gaze before he turned to Lianndra. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” His dark eyes measured her as she nodded. Then he took Sean’s arm, guiding him a short distance away. “Don’t let Michael be a hero. Stick around just long enough to get the Fang off our tails and bloody well get the hell out. Your group is small enough to slip through the cracks if you don’t play it too close.”
When Drake returned, Lianndra had her chin up and her eyes direct, enhancing her determined expression. He wondered if this mission was exactly what she needed to overcome her brutal experience. She seemed so lost. Now she appeared full of purpose and able to cope with things coming her way.
As long as she can cope with Michael, he thought. They don’t have the best track record to date.
In the end, Drake added six more men and a supply of grenades to the decoy group. Then they all helped push reluctant soldiers into the trees. When the only trace was the thrashing of their unsteady progress through the branches, Drake turned to regard the smaller group.
“Stay safe,” he said.
“With two stealth fighters and a bomber, we’ll be fine.” Sean mimicked Drake’s voice with a grin.
Seems like that comment is getting around, Drake thought with amusement.
Michael shook his head at the blond man. “We’ll erase all signs of your group and lay a trail a child could follow.” He stepped forward and linked his hands, offering the rebel captain a boost.
Below her, two Fang units compared notes. Michael’s small team had played a subtle game of cat and mouse for hours. Footprints here, a discarded canteen there; Michael’s soldiers left deliberate signs of a large group on the trail. On three occasions, they hacked new paths between established trails to make it look as though the rebels tried to move in that direction. These false trails caused Fang units to collide. The resulting confusion was clear, even from one hundred feet in the air.
There are so many fighting units in the vicinity, Lianndra thought. Andrea and Lianndra encountered twenty-two, and it seemed more were arriving all the time. I think Drake nailed it. One of those commandos got a message out before Michael chopped him into small pieces. It’s the only explanation for the increase in this area. They don’t want us to keep those Healers.
Lianndra crept away. Once clear, she headed back the way she’d come. Time for a rendezvous. Michael and his team buried explosives along a dry creek bed running between two traveled pathways. The planted grenades were an escape diversion in the making.
Michael obviously heard Lianndra coming. When she dropped out of the trees, he’d already straightened from his digging and waited for her.
As her feet touched down, Lianndra noticed his eyes looked as though the gold and silver competed for supremacy—although his primary expression was one of relief. Relief, she guessed, at seeing her back safely.
“Anything?” she asked.
Michael possessed their only long-range comm. He shook his head and her heart sank. No word from Drake. There was no telling how long the big group would take to travel to the river. They would have to follow it until they joined the Gryphon who pushed upriver toward them.
