Prophecy: The Descendants War Book 6

by John Walker

  Three blips that close? Brahn had no idea how anyone would’ve made it so far in such a short period of time. Not from the ground, at least. And those working there didn’t have access to those stairwells. Who allowed them to land? The automated defenses should’ve taken care of any unauthorized vehicles.

  Not to mention how did they get through the doors?

  “What’s the matter?” Cirilla asked. “What’re we waiting for?”

  “There are people in there,” Brahn said, “and they aren’t part of the security forces.” He considered another path to their car. The lifts were locked down. Public stairs might’ve included invaders mixed in with civilians.

  “That’s not—”

  “I know,” Brahn interrupted. I have to deal with them. “Stand behind that corner right there. Stay in cover until I say. If I yell run, go for the civilian stairs, and make your way to the lobby. Find one of the security… you know what to do from there.”

  “You’re going to confront them?”

  “In a manner of speaking. Move!” Brahn waited for her to be safe. He tapped his computer, unlocking the door. It slid open, revealing the sounds of heavy footsteps coming from above. He stepped onto the landing, moving so he stood at the top of the next flight going down.

  Shadows appeared on the wall on the floor above. A man rounded the top, taking the steps two at a time. Brahn lifted his weapon, double tapping the target in the chest. The man cried out, tumbling the rest of the way to land on his back. Something crunched on his way down, a broken bone that echoed in the vast space.

  The next two stopped. One leaned around, firing directly at the bottom of the stairs. Brahn remained still, shifting his aim a little higher. Several blasts cut through the air, splashing against the wall as another man darted out, using that as cover.

  Brahn shot him in the head before he even left the landing. The body stumbled back, slamming into the wall before sliding to the floor. The final man adjusted his aim. That was Brahn’s time to move.

  He went to the landing below, turning to guard the door. His opponent came halfway down, pausing there. With no line of sight, both men had to wait, standing silently. Test of patience, Brahn thought. But he knows I’m the one on the time limit. The longer I’m here with my charge, the better chance we have of being caught.

  “Don’t know who you are,” the man called out, “or what you’re doing in here, but this isn’t your fight! Some security guard, right? Protecting the archive?”

  Brahn didn’t reply.

  “Come on, we can work this out. I only need one thing. Just turn your back. Find a quiet office to hide in for a while. You won’t get hurt.”

  I wonder if that’s worked for him. Brahn didn’t know many Kahl soldiers who would take such an offer. They’d rather die first. He continued to remain silent though he took a tentative step up. If he could get in position, the conversation may lead to an opportunity. Keep talking, pal. Just keep talking.

  “This is your last chance before I kill you!”

  Bold words with the bodies of your friends lying at your feet. Brahn’s computer vibrated on his arm. He glanced. More blips appeared on the floor. The time limit ran out. He needed to get back to Cirilla before the others found her. Come on, then. Tell me what it is you need. I doubt it’s data.

  They’d shown up to kidnap someone. A hostage might’ve been the goal when they attacked the house as well. It would’ve been easy to get two blasts off, killing everyone in that room. But they only shot that specific point once. Interesting problem. I’ll bring it up to Aeden when we get out of here.

  Brahn made it to within three steps of the landing. He paused there.

  “That’s it!” His opponent shouted. “You’re done!” The man rushed forward. Brahn met him at the landing, grabbing his right wrist. He twisted as the weapon went off, blasting the door three times. Lifting his own weapon, he went to plant it in the man’s neck.

  Just before the barrel found its mark, the man slapped it aside with his left hand then followed up with a slap to Brahn’s face. The blow didn’t hurt so much as shocked. He actually just struck me with an open hand. What is this man doing?

  Brahn yanked the man’s arm around behind him until the weapon fell free. Then he threw his weight into his captive’s back before slamming him into the wall. Pressing his gun against the man’s side, he breathed a question in his ear. “Why are you here? What is it you want? And how’d you get in?”

  “I won’t tell you anything!” The man squealed, writhing around as he tried to break free.

  “Fine.” Brahn shot him three times, each blast making the body go tense. He let the corpse fell before bursting back through the door.

  Cirilla was on the move, running back toward the archives. A series of shots cut the wall beside him, sending sparks showering over him. Brahn ducked, hustling after his charge while blind firing behind him. He had no idea how many people they were facing but they were certainly determined.

  “I’m right behind you!” Brahn yelled, “keep moving! Don’t stop until I say!”

  At least she had the peace of mind to get the hell out of here. Brahn’s ears twitched as heavy footfalls came barreling toward the end of their hallway. “Drop!” Brahn shouted, spinning in place. He collapsed to his back, firing as one of their pursuers came around the corner. The first shot missed as the man writhed in panic.

  “Get around the other way!” The man shouted as he took cover though not quickly enough. Brahn caught him in the leg, drawing out a long scream.

  It couldn’t have hurt that bad, Brahn thought. At least he won’t be trying to pin us down. He crawled to his feet, running for Cirilla. She remained prone on the floor. He slowed beside her, helping her up. “Come on. Stay very close!” They hurried back into the archive room, letting the doors close behind them. “Is there another way out?”

  “Um… I don’t…”

  “Hey.” Brahn holstered his weapon. He took her by the shoulders. “Take a deep breath. Calm down. And think. I’m locking this door. You think of how we’re getting out. Okay?”

  Cirilla nodded. “I’m on it.”

  “Thank you.” Brahn returned to the normal entrance, inputting his code. If they came in through the top floor, they might have these codes too. He didn’t have the means to scramble it. Hopefully, it’ll slow them down a little. Though I kind of doubt it. They planned this well. She’s lucky Aeden assigned me.

  Cirilla stood next to the computer, tapping the screen with trembling hands. Brahn tapped his foot. He wanted to hurry her, to convince her to move faster but stressing her might make it take longer. Instead, he forced himself to take several deep breaths. Calm down. This is just another assignment.

  The fact these men had attacked the tower bothered him. They were brazen… and that didn’t bode well for their culture. Civilians allowed them to get in. How did they rile those people up? And who do they know on the inside? Brahn tapped his comm, reaching out through a secure channel.

  “This is Aeden.”

  “Brahn here. We’re at the tower. It’s under siege. Do you know who we are dealing with? Has there been a report?”

  “Not as of yet,” Aeden said. “I had to get the Lord Marshal out of there but that was prior to any sort of attack. Are you well? You and your charge?”

  “We are alive for now. But it seems the security forces must be occupied elsewhere in the building. I haven’t heard anything from them. In fact, I’m not sure how this worked. They were jamming comms. I guess our secure uplink is too strong for that nonsense.”

  “Can you get her out of there alive?”

  Brahn sighed. He looked back at Cirilla. “Yes. Of course.”

  “Good. Rendezvous at—”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Brahn interrupted, “it’s not wise to bring up even call signs right now. I have a destination in mind though.”

  “Very good,” Aeden replied, “be safe, Brahn. I have the utmost confidence in you as does the Lord Marshal. Kee
p that woman safe. One last thing, what were you doing there?”

  “Gathering information. She has a great deal to sift through.”

  “Good. Let us know when you’re safe. Aeden out.”

  I’m sure the Lord Marshal’s about to lose his mind. Brahn hurried over to Cirilla. “Do you have the means for us to get out?”

  “There’s a door for the janitorial staff.” Cirilla gestured. “But only the highest-ranking of them are allowed in here.” Someone started pounding at the door. “They’re here! Do they have the codes?”

  “At least one of them does,” Brahn said, “obviously not him though. Lead me to this door. We can at least get back to the main hallways.”

  “Then what?” Cirilla asked. “How are we going to escape in an air car if they can shoot at us?”

  “We have armor on that thing… and some shields.” Brahn walked with her to the door. His code unlocked it. “I’ll lead the way. One step at a time, by the way. Worry about surviving this floor. Then we’ll focus on departing the structure.” He glanced both ways before stepping out. They locked the door behind them.

  “That won’t hold them off for long.”

  “No,” Brahn said. He took a left, leading them swiftly toward a series of offices on the far side. “But it’ll give them pause. And that might be all we need to get out of here alive.”

  “They want me, don’t they?”

  “Seems like it. I’m guessing they think you’re a valuable hostage. Someone they can use against the Lord Marshal. Though why, I have no idea.” Brahn caught a shadow flicker at the end of the hall. He fired just as a man stepped around the corner, putting him down. Cirilla yelped. “That might happen a lot in the next few moments.”

  His computer showed they were clear for at least a hundred yards. “Okay, let’s make up some time. The next stairs aren’t too far away.” They moved on, deeper into the tension of the occupied building… and, hopefully, an escape route.

  Chapter 13

  Maurda stood at the edge of the imaginary ring designed by the Kahl. He tossed his shirt, stretching his muscles for the action to come. The Prytins told them to pull their blows, but even after meeting with the various prisoners, it was hard to tell which of them might comply with that order.

  Some of these men are too afraid to do anything but their best. Maurda saw it in their eyes. In particular, those who begrudgingly agreed. Some of them had fought more than five times, surviving far longer than they probably should have. Such survivors didn’t want to risk a beating because they pulled a punch.

  I can’t rely on these people to go easy on us. I’m going to have to fight.

  The Kahl soldiers gathered around, shouting their encouragement. Each of them placed their bets on various combatants, jeering them on. Threats and offers mingled until none of what they said made sense. The roar became deafening, building up to the start of the ridiculous event.

  The commandant didn’t bother to attend. Maurda found out the man preferred to hear about the victor. Rumor also suggested the extra rations would be lighter, which meant the prisoners having to fight might be particularly vicious. If it wouldn’t share out easily, then they’d want it for themselves.

  Those extra calories might help three or four men survive. We could keep our strength up until these Prytin fools make their play. Get us all killed… or liberate us. Whichever comes first. Maurda had a hard time believing anyone capable of escaping the Kahl. But I’d rather die running than in that mine.

  A high-pitched horn went off, compelling the fighters forward. Some of the most zealous of them charged in swinging. Those men didn’t hold back. Maurda watched as they slammed each other with everything they had. The first hit to a man’s face tossed his head to the side, a tooth flying free.

  Others worked the bodies, cramming their foreheads into the noses of their opponents when they got too close. Everything they planned for, all the conversations to convince them to work together, went over the fence the moment the horn sounded. It was the same type of fight as before. Just one more conflict for the Kahl to enjoy.

  “Get moving!” a Kahl belted out.

  Maurda knew he was being addressed. He let out a sigh, lifting his hands defensively before progressing into the swath of opponents. Most of the brawl turned into a wrestling match in the center of the ring. Men throwing flurries of punches into the backs of others held down during the fight.

  Others danced around the perimeter, kicking at people, or trying to drag them away from the pile. One such outlier came for Maurda, throwing a high right hook.

  Maurda ducked, retaliating with a punch to the gut followed with a jab to the nose. Before his victim could stumble away, he lashed out, grabbing them by the back of the neck. Three punches to the gut dropped them to the ground, gasping and coughing.

  A heavy blow hit Maurda from behind. Arms wrapped around him. He dug his heels in to prevent them from charging the fence. When they stopped, he shoved back, letting his head whip toward his captor. The blow made his teeth chatter in his head, but it loosened the grip around his arms enough to wriggle free.

  He spun, punching the bloodied man in the side of the head. Striking the skull made Maurda’s wrist ache, causing his knuckles to flare, but it dropped his opponent instantly. Shaking out the pain, he hurried to a clear section of the fight, narrowly avoiding attempted sweeps and a couple jabs.

  But there was nowhere to really go. Maurda found himself facing off with four individuals. They seemed to be working together. One on the left threw a kick, catching Maurda in the thigh. He let it take him down, lunging with a punch that caught a different attacker in the groin.

  They started kicking him while he crouched. Maurda threw himself at the one on his hard left. The two went to the ground, but it didn’t help. The other three descended upon him, beating him all over his sides and back.

  Maurda couldn’t escape. He writhed around, tried to wriggle free, but the man on the ground held him fast. A blow made something crack in his chest, making it hard to breathe. That gave him a burst of adrenaline, enough to break loose of the hold and roll away.

  As he came to his feet, a man punched him in the face. Maurda retaliated with three strikes, driving the combatant back toward the pile. He kept working the guy over, hitting him in the chest, the face, the gut. Then someone tackled him on his bad side where the rib ached.

  Another drop to the dirt knocked the wind out of him. Three hits to the head dazed him. He struggled, putting his hand up to stop the man. He seemed to have a rock. Maurda grabbed the man’s wrist, shifting his weight to bring him down to his level. As they faced each other, it became clear both men were too exhausted to continue the struggle.

  That didn’t stop others from dropping on them. More kicks, more blows. Maurda swore he would’ve lasted longer. He tightened up in a ball, trying to protect his sensitive bits. Someone yanked his arms away, opening him up to three kicks to the groin. That did him in. He cried out, darkness settling over him.

  “He’s done!” one shouted. “Move on!”

  “Kill him!” another said, “he’s a rabble rouser. He’s going to get the Kahl to execute us!”

  “We don’t have time!” They dashed off, leaving Maurda to nurse his wounds.

  I thought I had a chance. Maurda groaned, rolling to his side. He choked on his own blood, retching as he spat it on the ground. At least they stayed their hands. Those men went wild. They didn’t care about the plan, didn’t care about each other. Their only goal was getting extra food to survive a little longer.

  That mentality will be the end of us all. It’s assured. Maurda slumped, closing his eyes. I… give up. For now. Though he doubted much would come of any optimism later. The Prytins couldn’t help them. Every time he felt like they had a chance, something happened to dash his hope. Divines, give me strength. Help me through this.

  But he felt abandoned. Lost… forgotten. Especially stewing in his own blood in a filthy Kahl prison camp. This is where gods die
. Faith ends. And our lives shortly after. That’s what the Kahl really want… and that’s what they’re getting. Efficient bastards. Maybe they’ll get what’s coming to them at the end of days.

  Maurda opened his eyes, staring off at the city on the horizon through blurry eyes. Or maybe not. There is no justice in the universe. I know that now.

  ***

  Brahn reached the end of a hallway, staying close to the wall. As a gun came around the corner, he lashed out, snatching the person by the wrist. “Get down!” Brahn shouted at Cirilla while pulling his victim into the open.

  They tried to yank away. Brahn let them go so they spun. As they showed their back to him, he fired twice in the spine, once in the back of the head. Cirilla yelped. He didn’t have time to help her quite yet.

  A second assailant brought their weapon to bear. Brahn tossed himself against the wall again, narrowly avoiding a shot that blasted out a window. He returned fire, chasing the person with shots. He advanced rather than let them catch their breath, dropping low before he peeked around after them.

  They threw a kick, catching him in the chest. Brahn let himself fall to the ground, using his momentum to throw his feet up. His feet deflected the barrel of the man’s gun upward long enough for him to square a shot into the man’s chest. The blast brought out a huff as the dying invader dropped to his knees.

  Brahn fired around him at two running forms. One of them he caught in the leg. The other spun, compelling him to roll toward Cirilla. As a series of energy bolts blackened the floor, he crawled to his feet, reaching his hand toward his charge.

  “We have to move!” Brahn shouted. “Come on!”

  “But there are still people down there!”

  “They were running!” Brahn grabbed her, lifting her to her feet. “Stay close, we may have to sprint.” He edged to the corner, holding only the barrel of his weapon out. No shot came. He drew a couple deep breaths before peeking, drawing back instantly. Whoever had been firing moved off. “We’re good.”