Feral Empires: First Spark

by Stephen L. Hadley

  There was no harm in being prepared, though.

  They took their time approaching, cutting a wide circle that took them nearly all the way around the houses before drawing close. The four structures were arranged in a crescent, facing a central clearing perhaps fifty yards across. A small wooden fence encircled the gap, filled with rows of tilled earth on one side and several hound-sized grazing animals on the other.

  It wasn’t until they had reached the other side of the makeshift village that Liam spotted the source of the light they’d seen. A single candle swayed in the upper window of the outermost home. Though the flame was small, almost to the point of invisibility, the light it cast far exceeded the cloud-covered moon overhead.

  There was no sign of whoever had lit the candle.

  Liam turned to Jenn. He already knew what her answer would be, but he couldn’t help but ask. They had fruit—thanks to her abilities—and enough dried meat to keep their hunger at bay, but there was nothing quite like fresh meat. He’d never seen the animals in the pen before them, but for someone to go through so much trouble, they couldn’t be anything but delicious.

  As expected, Jenn shook her head. Wordlessly, she angled away from the houses and back onto their original path. Liam followed with a grave expression, suddenly aware of the first stirrings of hunger twisting within his belly.

  Once they’d left the houses a safe distance behind, Liam sped up to join Jenn’s side.

  “They could have been Occs,” he pointed out.

  Jenn didn’t reply immediately.

  “They could have,” she admitted, not looking at him. Oddly, one of her vines swiveled to do precisely that. “But they could have been ordinary people. Just trying to survive.”

  Liam scoffed. “This close to the Institute?”

  Jenn stopped walking, and finally turned his way. There was something foreign in her expression that looked vaguely like regret and yet was not.

  “Liam, there are thousands of them,” she said. “Thousands and thousands of people who aren’t like us, or Scott. All they want is to survive. They don’t care about the war, the Occs, or any of it.”

  “They should,” he growled, surprised by the venom in his own voice. A ferocious heat had kindled in his chest and he had to let it out to prevent being burned. “How can they not? Everyone knows what the Occs are! How can they live this close to the Institute and not care?”

  Jenn stared back at him, accepting the anger in his words without comment or reciprocation.

  “Everyone knows what the Occs are?” she echoed. “It took me months of being free to even hear that name. They might know who the Occs are, but they don’t know what they are. And the ones who do tend to wind up dead.”

  “Then they should fight!”

  “Some do. Most die.” The corner of Jenn’s mouth curled into a wry, gentle smile. “We don’t all heal like you do.”

  Scowling, Liam pushed past her and resumed walking. It took several minutes for his anger to cool and allow him to glance back and ensure Jenn was still following.

  It wasn’t that she was wrong. Hell, even he knew that she was right, on an intellectual level, at least. But the idea that he’d suffered for years—they both had—and there were thousands of people just living mere miles away was so infuriating it left him shaking. Every one of them deserved to know firsthand how much he’d endured.

  And yet, in the midst of such ruminating, Liam’s thoughts turned to the woman he’d pointlessly avenged. She hadn’t been selfish or callous. She’d known what the Institute was. But her last words had been an attempt to protect others. Surely, she would have done the same for him, if she’d had the opportunity.

  He groaned under his breath. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

  “Hey.” Jenn’s voice caught him off-guard. Reaching his side, she indicated a rather steep section of hillside that appeared to have been sheared away to make room for the road. It was flanked on either side by a thick patch of fully grown trees. “What do you think about here?”

  Liam nodded, eyeing the location further. “It could work.”

  Jenn made a face and punched him softly on the arm.

  “It will work,” she insisted. “I can bring down a few of those trees. You can use the rifles from up top. They won’t stand a chance.”

  “Unless they have Hunters with them.” He knew he was being petulant, but couldn’t resist.

  “Not likely, if they’re heading toward the Institute. Besides, that’s true no matter where we attack.”

  Liam didn’t reply. From the look on Jenn’s face, she knew something was wrong and wanted to press him on it. To his relief, she did not. Instead, she gave his arm an affection squeeze and guided his first few steps toward the slope.

  “Let’s go find a place to make camp,” she said. “Knowing the Occs, they’ll send their convoys during the day, so we should try and get used to sleeping at night again.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Jenn blinked in surprise, then grinned and slipped her arm around his. “I thought I wore you out,” she teased. “You came, what, like three times?”

  Reluctantly, Liam allowed himself to be coaxed out of his negativity.

  “I heal quickly,” he said. “It’d take more than that to wear me out.”

  “I’ve created a monster.” Jenn chuckled quietly, a subtle blush coloring her cheeks. “Better learn to pace yourself. Otherwise, I’m going to be walking funny this whole war.”

  ***

  Unfortunately, they were not afforded the chance to sleep, or to pass the time in more enjoyable ways. Scarcely had the pair of them reached the hilltop when Liam spotted the lights. They were a long way off, traveling east along the Institute’s supply road, and unmistakably manmade.

  Jenn spotted them an instant after he did, wearing an expression that conveyed a thousand different thoughts.

  “We could wait for the next one,” she offered.

  Liam shook his head. Already, adrenaline had rendered his heartbeat a furious drum, and he felt all the resentment he’d so recently pushed down reassert itself.

  “We don’t know how long that will be,” he growled. “Don’t you want to save Nora?”

  Jenn’s eyes flashed dangerously and, momentarily, she looked as though she wanted to strike him. Then, her look hardened into an icy, purposeful mask. As one, the multitude of vines dangling from her shoulders rose to frame her head like a deadly halo.

  “I’ll stop the convoy,” she said. “Don’t miss.”

  In a flash, Jenn was gone. Her vines clutched at trees along the way, rapidly carrying her down an impossibly steep section of the hill without her feet even brushing the ground. Liam watched, too impressed to anything more than stare, until she vanished among the canopies.

  With a curse, he returned his attention to the road and the approaching vehicle. It was difficult not to rush, even though it would be several minutes before the convoy arrived. His hands shook anyway, and more curses followed the first as he struggled to locate the loose ammunition floating around his torn pack. Both rifles were already loaded, but without knowing how many Occs were approaching, there was no harm in being over-prepared.

  As with their near-discovery in Scott’s safe-house, the waiting proved the worst part. Liam’s breathing was already ragged and he fought to steady it as he followed the convoy’s lights with his rifle. From below, the cracking of branches echoed.

  At last, the convoy emerged from the trees. The brilliance of its electric lights was so intense that Liam was forced to squint and duck out of sight until it drew nearer. And, as it did, the lights coalesced into specific points of origin.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  The convoy was not a single vehicle, but four. Those at the front and back were comparably smaller, though still large enough to give him pause. Boxy, with darkened windows, they had been painted with shifting patterns of green and brown. It struck
him as an odd choice, since the intensity of their headlights made the camouflage pointless. Far from superfluous, however, were the Occs atop them. Emerging from the top of each vehicle was a man, clutching an enormous, mounted rifle whose caliber obviously exceeded Liam’s.

  The central vehicles were a bit more in line with his expectations. Though larger than their escorts, the central vehicles were no less protected. Layer after layer of sheet metal had been affixed to their exteriors, the storage compartments of which could easily have held more food than he could eat in a lifetime.

  Trembling slightly, Liam followed the convoy. And waited.

  With a deafening crack, several of the largest trees began to fall as one. Liam forced himself not to watch them as they did. He thumbed the safety off.

  Jenn’s timing had been flawless. The lead vehicle saw the trees falling, but had no time to slow down or evade. Even the man peeking out from the top could do nothing more than cry out, briefly, before the incomprehensible weight landed atop him. Not that it would have made much difference, the largest of the trees landed squarely atop the vehicle, practically splitting it in two with a metallic crunch.

  Then, with an even louder sound, the second vehicle in the convoy plowed into the makeshift roadblock. It had tried unsuccessfully to brake. Liam must have underestimated how swiftly they were traveling, since he was utterly surprised when it launched into the air. The large, boxy compartment of supplies snapped free of the foremost section, both arcing in different directions and rolling wildly before coming to rest against trees on opposite sides of the road.

  The trailing vehicles were more fortunate. Both managed to stop before suffering the same fate. Concerned voices shouted as men from both surviving vehicles disembarked and ran to help their unlucky comrades. Others were quicker to realize the truth. The armed man in the last vehicle swiveled, aiming his weapon dangerously close to Liam’s location.

  Exhaling, Liam aimed carefully. He could see the man’s head twisting about as he searched for the ambush he obviously sensed coming. He wore a hood, the lower half of his face covered as well, while a pair of goggles rested unused on his forehead.

  Liam waited until the pink of the man’s nose lay squarely in his sights, then pulled the trigger. The rifle kicked with a booming retort, hard enough to make him blink involuntarily. When he opened his eyes a split-second later and looked again, his target had slumped. The body shuddered, blood splattered across the camouflaged top of the vehicle.

  Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Gone were the shouts for aid and frantic rush toward the crumpled vehicles. Instead, men dove for cover and shouted orders with a curt, practiced tone that Liam knew all too well. The sound of it touched something in his chest and he bit back a whimper and a snarl at the same time. Working the bolt of his rifle, he searched for a new target.

  The Occs were disorganized, but far from helpless. Though he doubted anyone but the man he’d killed actually knew his position, they’d obviously identify it soon. He had one more shot, at most, and then they’d be on him.

  Liam waited until one made a mistake. It didn’t take long. A man, carrying only a sidearm, sidled along the rear of the supply vehicle. Apparently, he assumed the shot came from near Jenn’s hiding spot.

  Liam dropped him with a single round to the chest.

  At once, a hail of gunfire erupted from the ground below. Liam yelped, dropping his rifle and scrambling back as the trees above and on either side of him exploded into a cloud of splinters and sawdust. His heart pounded desperately as he scooped up his spare rifle and waited for the onslaught to cease.

  It did not. Soon, past the ringing in his ears, he thought he heard the sound of shouted orders. Reluctantly climbing to his knees, he crawled and rolled through the vegetation until he reached another sheltered position some ten yards away.

  Cautiously, Liam poked his head up to find another target.

  He never got the chance. The instant his brow emerged from his new hiding place, another wave of gunfire washed over him. Dropping back into cover, Liam blinked the shredded debris from his eyes.

  “Shit.”

  What was he supposed to do in situations like these? He vaguely remembered Scott lecturing about combat and immediately wished he’d paid closer attention to those lessons. Move around to keep his foes guessing?

  More orders, more gunfire.

  Liam frowned. This time, none of the trees sheltering him had been hit. Cautiously, he moved to another tree and briefly peeked out. The sight that greeted him made his heart rise into his throat.

  Jenn had turned her body sideways to hide it better behind the thin tree. Two men lay on the ground before her, bleeding and clawing at the ground. Several of her vines were coated with blood, but twice that number had been splintered and lay uselessly on the asphalt.

  And from three different directions, Occs with rifles were advancing.

  Liam had taken no small amount of pride in the rare compliment he’d received from Scott. Normally, they centered on his ability to avoid repeating his mistakes. But if Scott could seen him now, Liam knew he’d take back each and every word of praise he’d spoken.

  Roaring, Liam hurled himself off the cliff. It wasn’t a perfectly vertical wall of rock, but in some ways that would have been better. Rather than landing hard and breaking both legs, he had the chance to savor every inch of the rocky slope as it battered him on the way ground. He felt ribs and fingers snap as he tumbled, blood and broken teeth filling his mouth as his face took its turn striking the cliffside.

  Don’t stop. Don’t pass out. Jenn needs you. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

  Truthfully, Liam wasn’t certain if he’d fainted or not. All he knew was that one moment he was falling and the next he was lying facedown in the dirt. Every inch of him hurt, worse than he could ever remember before. It wasn’t all bad, though. Somehow, he’d wound up on top of his rifle. As he reached for it though, the sight of his warped and broken fingers gave him pause. How was he supposed to aim with those? Much less shoot?

  Frowning, he focused everything he had on his index finger. That was the only one he needed right now. He could worry about the rest later.

  It took several seconds before anything happened. Then, all at once, the digit straightened with a sickening crack. Immediately, the pain there faded, though it only highlighted the agony the rest of his body was suffering. Pushing the thought aside, Liam climbed to his feet. The moment he did, however, one of his legs gave out and a surge of pain shot through his left ankle.

  Liam groaned, weakly hauling his rifle up from the dirt with a four-fingered grip. He frowned. Somehow, he’d lost the magazine during the fall, leaving only the single shot he had chambered. Ignoring the urge to search for it, he lifted the rifle to his shoulder. He had to use his forearm to raise the rifle, since both his wrist and left thumb felt broken.

  A thought occurred to him and he barked a painful laugh. He really was an idiot, wasn’t he? If he was going to wind up this injured, he might as well have simply let himself draw fire from the top of the cliff.

  No helping it now. Forcing the pain from his mind, Liam limped forward on one knee. He could still hear the panicked cries of dying men and the splintering of wood. That was all the confirmation he needed that Jenn was still alive. That was all that mattered.

  A man moved in front of him and it took Liam a moment to realize it. The man’s back was turned, his pistol raised and pointed the opposite direction. Staring down the barrel of his rifle, it took Liam another few moments to realize that he wasn’t just struggling to aim from dizziness. The fall had warped the weapon’s sights, as well.

  Liam fired, heart leaping as he saw the man in front of him flinch. The man whirled quickly. Too quickly, Liam realized with a sinking sensation. He’d missed.

  The man returned fire, and although Liam didn’t feel the shots connect, he certainly felt the ground as he fell backward. The impact made his vision flicker and
sent white-hot pain through his jaw. Coughing, he realized he’d lost or broken several more teeth.

  Could he even heal those? He’d never had occasion to try, though now seemed as good a time as any.

  Wait—no. Bullets. Get those first. Then teeth.

  With tremendous difficulty, Liam lifted his head up enough to see the wound in his side. Or wounds, rather. From the amount of blood and torn skin across his torso, it was impossible to tell where he’d been shot and where he’d simply been injured during the fall.

  Well, if he couldn’t tell which wounds were more serious, the order in which he healed them probably didn’t matter all that much, either. And deep down, Liam knew it probably didn’t matter if he healed them at all. There was no way he could recover before the battle was decided. If the Occs killed Jenn, they’d finish him off too before he had a chance to stabilize. And if Jenn won, she’d watch over him like always.

  There was something freeing about being powerless. Infuriating, too, but at the moment Liam did his best to ignore that part of the equation. He closed his eyes, doing his best to ignore the pain of his wounds as he focused on each of them in turn. The seconds dragged by, each one an eternity in itself.

  “Liam? Liam!” Jenn’s voice was a shriek.

  Liam’s eyes opened and he lifted his head weakly. His vision wavered and seemed to be tinted red in one eye, but there was no mistaking the sight of Jenn as she rushed toward him. She was limping and blood trickled out beneath the hand she pressed to her temple, but otherwise she seemed unharmed.

  Liam breathed a sigh of relief and grinned.

  “Ey, Yehh,” he mumbled. With so many missing teeth, it was impossible to pronounce words properly. The realization added a hint of urgency to his healing. He really did not like the idea of mumbling through conversations for the rest of his life.

  Jenn’s face was pale and only grew more so as she approached. Hands trembling, she dropped to her knees at his side. She started to reach for him, then pulled her hand back and pressed it to her mouth as a fist.