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Battle Born

Page 13

by Cassandra Rose Clarke


  “I have an idea,” Evie whispered. “Can we get up higher, do you think?”

  Owen’s silhouette shifted, didn’t turn.

  Dorian squinted up. They were currently crouched in a kapok tree, tucked in the hollow beneath the canopy. A particularly sturdy-looking branch jutted out like a stepping-stone into the leaves.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I think so.”

  “Okay. Get ready to climb.” Evie snapped off an overhanging branch. The noise was like a gunshot, but Dorian realized instantly what she was planning to do. He swung himself up the stepping-stone branch.

  Evie hurled the broken branch out into the woods. It clattered and cracked. Then she followed Dorian. They scrambled furiously into the middle layers of the tree, a few meters off the ground.

  Down below, footsteps.

  “I heard you,” Owen called out. “I’m telling you, you need to be quiet.”

  Dorian pressed a finger to his lips. Evie smiled at him. She looked wild and triumphant, her hair tangled up with leaves, her face smeared with dirt.

  Moving slowly, carefully, Dorian eased aside the curtain of leaves. Owen was right underneath them, his armor reflecting the light. He swiveled his head: left, right—not up. He’s underestimating us, Dorian thought. He didn’t think they would know to climb into the trees.

  Owen walked forward, vanishing from Dorian’s line of sight. Dorian glanced over at Evie, gave her a manic grin, and jumped.

  “We caaaaught you!” Dorian screamed. The tree slapped him on the way down, and although the ground was soft and mulchy, electricity jolted up through his feet. “Oh, ow.”

  Light shone in his eyes. He peered up to find Owen smiling and shaking his head. “You went up,” Owen said. “Good job.”

  “Wasn’t expecting that, were you?”

  “I expected to catch you before you climbed up there.”

  Leaves and old rainwater showered down around them; Evie was descending, as careful as always. “Why’d you do that?” she shouted at Dorian. “I thought you’d fallen! You’re lucky you’re not hurt!”

  “Element of surprise,” Dorian said.

  Owen shook his head again. “If you can manage to avoid any surprises tomorrow night, you might actually find something out for us.”

  “Assuming we’re in the woods,” Evie said. “I don’t know how this is going to work in town.”

  “There are trees in town,” Dorian said. “And buildings. Roofs. Trust me, I know my way around.” He sounded too confident, even to himself, but he was riding on that thrill of getting the drop on Owen—a Spartan! A Spartan who didn’t think Dorian was smart enough to climb up in the trees, but still.

  “Go back to the house,” Owen said. “Get some rest. We’ll be heading out at nightfall tomorrow.”

  Dorian woke up at sunset, orange light spilling through the open curtains in his bedroom. They’d started out on the cots in the safe room, but Owen thought it was okay for them to sleep in the bedrooms since there didn’t appear to be an immediate threat. He was less sore than he expected, and he rolled out of bed, refreshed and bright-eyed. For a moment, everything seemed to glimmer with possibility. It came crashing down soon enough: His best friends were possibly dead, Uncle Max and Remy were trapped in the shelter, an energy shield was covering Brume-sur-Mer like a shell, and he was going to have to sneak into town and spy on the Covenant without getting caught.

  He dressed in the black clothes they’d scrounged up last night and brushed his teeth and went downstairs, where he found Victor sitting at the dining room table poking at a mess of scrambled eggs and fried sausages. Dorian’s stomach grumbled at the scent, even though the packets of emergency supplies mostly just tasted like water and aluminum after they were reconstituted.

  “How’d it go for you two last night?” Dorian slid into the chair across from Victor.

  “Okay. We managed to sneak up on him once, although we weren’t able to watch him for long. He said it would probably be fine.”

  Dorian nodded. He knew he needed to eat something. Keep his strength up for the reconnaissance tonight. He looked over at the big grandfather clock towering in the corner. Almost seven thirty. They’d be in full dark soon enough.

  He pushed away from the table and went into the kitchen without saying anything more to Victor. He figured Victor felt as much like talking as he did. He pulled open the pantry, where they kept the food rations, slim packets stacked haphazardly on top of each other. Behind them were the sorts of things you’d see in any pantry—rice, flour, a few jars of dried spices. Saskia had told him they’d brought the rations up from the house’s safe room the morning after the invasion. Easy access.

  He picked one packet at random and dropped it in the reconstituter, the power cell still glowing from when Victor had used it. Dorian ate standing up, scooping the food straight out of the reconstituter’s pan with a big wooden spoon. He watched the yard grow darker. Moths fluttered up around the iron wall, dark flickering shadows in the security lights. No rain.

  It wasn’t long after Dorian finished eating that Evie showed up, dressed in dark clothes, a black hat pulled tight over her hair. “It’s time,” she said. “Owen wants us all out front in five minutes.”

  “I’m ready now.” None of them were ready ready, and Dorian knew that. He suspected Owen did too. But as much as he dreaded going back toward town again, he knew he couldn’t sit in the house and pretend everything was normal. And if they waited too long, the Covenant would find what they were looking for and then it’d be over.

  Saskia and Victor were already outside by the time Dorian and Evie arrived. Owen paced in front of them, helmet off, his armor gleaming in the floodlights.

  “What’s your mission?” he said, his voice stern. Dorian glanced over at Evie, but she had her gaze fixed firmly on Owen.

  “Well?” he barked. “We talked about this last night.”

  “Reconnaissance?” Victor offered.

  Owen nodded. “What are you looking for?”

  “Anything we can find,” Evie said.

  “Without getting caught,” Dorian added.

  Owen looked at him. Was he smiling a little? It was hard to tell in the dark. “Yes,” he said. “That’s the key. Without getting caught. What do you do if you’re at risk of being seen by the enemy?”

  Silence. The others shifted, their shoes rustling the grass.

  “Well?” Owen stopped pacing and stared at them.

  “Run,” Dorian said.

  Victor gave a sharp, shrill laugh.

  “That’s correct,” Owen said. “You four aren’t soldiers, and I’m not sending you in there to get killed. What we want is information. But do not put your lives at risk, do you understand?” He paused, then added softly, “That’s my job.”

  Before they ditched him for the UNSC, Dorian’s parents had told him stories of the Spartans like they were boogeymen, monsters come to snatch up misbehaving colony children. He realized then that part of him had still been thinking of Owen that way. But a boogeyman didn’t put his life at risk for the sake of his victims.

  So Dorian’s parents were wrong about something. Big surprise there.

  “What exactly are you going to be doing?” Saskia said. “You know your wound hasn’t totally healed—”

  Owen held up one hand. “I’ll be looking for weapons. We’ll need as many as we can get.”

  Something tightened in Dorian’s stomach. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to really face the Covenant again. Not after what he’d seen on board Tomas’s boat—

  But he knew too, if we wanted Remy and Uncle Max back, he didn’t have much of a choice. At least he didn’t have to worry about fighting yet—assuming he and Evie could do their job right.

  “Are you sending us in unarmed today?” Saskia asked.

  Owen sighed, a slight movement beneath the bulk of his suit. “No,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to go in there shooting. We are looking for information. I can’t stress th
at enough.” He jerked his head toward the porch. “What weapons we have are over there. I’d suggest the rifle and the pistol. The needler would compromise us.”

  Dorian looked over at Evie and gestured to the weapons. “Which one do you want?”

  “I’m not sure I really know how to use either of them.”

  Dorian smiled. “I thought you went shooting with Victor.”

  “I sucked at it.”

  He laughed in spite of the heavy tension soaking through the air. “I call the pistol,” he said to Saskia. “You can take the rifle. Fair?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Victor said.

  None of them moved, just looked warily at each other.

  “Let’s go,” Owen said. “Find out what you can. And stay alive.”

  Thirty minutes later, Dorian and Evie were nestled up in the thick branches of a banyan tree, peering through the leaves at the stretch of Brume-sur-Mer’s main street. Owen and the others were somewhere on the edges of downtown—not far, really, but enough to feel risky.

  Down below, the twisted remains of cars lay in broken heaps along the sidewalk, and the storefronts were streaked with black scorch marks. The glass in the windows had melted into gleaming, transparent lumps that glistened in the light cast by the tall, strange pylons that the Covenant had set up along the road like streetlights. They looked like some kind of comm system, though it was impossible to tell.

  “Why did they do this?” Evie whispered. “What’s the point?”

  Dorian shrugged. What was the point of the Covenant slaughtering everyone on Tomas’s boat? They were civilians. They weren’t a threat. And yet they were all dead anyway.

  “It’s just what they do,” he said. “They hate us.”

  “But why?” Evie’s voice rasped. “It’s so—so illogical.”

  “The UNSC used to kill colonists,” Dorian said. “And they were the same species.”

  “They killed insurrectionists,” Evie said. “It was war.”

  “This is war too.”

  Evie sighed and fell quiet. For a moment, they just sat in that thick silence. Then Dorian heard the whirring sound of heavy pneumatic joints slowly approaching from the east.

  “Crap,” he said.

  “I hear it too.” Evie pulled back from the leaves and tilted her head, listening. “It’s coming from that direction.” She pointed off to her left.

  Dorian nodded, then pressed a finger to his lips. Evie nodded gravely. He moved into a crouch, and then, balancing himself against the tree’s trunk, crept closer to the origin of the sound. He peeked through a gap in the trees.

  Bit back a shout of fear.

  It was some kind of purple-armored ground vehicle, not a ship, that crawled on four legs, tottering like a crab. Atop its main chassis was an armored cowling, narrow and swept back—which might have been the operator’s cabin. It was also too wide for the road, and Dorian suddenly understood why the shops and the cars were all so damaged.

  The vehicle lurched down the street, scrabbling over the wreckage of the town. Smoke billowed up into the air. Dorian watched the vehicle’s movements and then he jumped back into place beside Evie, who was staring with her mouth hanging open.

  “We should follow it,” Dorian breathed into her ear.

  Evie jumped. “What?”

  “That thing’s huge,” he whispered. Noise from the vehicle’s movements swelled, drowning out their conversation. “It’s got to be going somewhere important.”

  Evie looked back out at the street. Her eyes narrowed into that look of determination Dorian had seen when she hacked into Salome’s system.

  “The roofs,” she said.

  “That was the plan.” They had chosen that particular tree for their stakeout because its branches brushed up against the roof of the nearby bank. They wouldn’t have cover on the roofs, not like they did in the trees, but if they stayed behind the vehicle, they should be okay. He hoped.

  The tree branches trembled as the Covenant vehicle rumbled past them, and though it moved somewhat like a spider, each footfall made its size and weight very clear. Dorian peered out at it again. No soldiers anywhere, although he could see what looked like a large plasma device at the front end of the vehicle’s cowling. The toxic scent of plasma filled the air, making Dorian’s eyes water.

  And then the vehicle was on the other side of the tree, moving away from them. The lack of visible Covenant soldiers actually unnerved Dorian for the first time. He guessed that it meant they were there somewhere, just unseen—which was worse. He and Evie likely wouldn’t have a better chance if they missed this opportunity.

  “Now,” Dorian whispered. He didn’t wait for a reply, just darted over to the branches that connected to the bank’s roof. They were thinner than he’d thought. Flimsier. He took a deep breath and a couple of cautious steps. The branches bent beneath his weight. He thought he heard Evie gasp behind him, but it might have just been a gust of wind.

  He grabbed the overhead branches and swung himself forward. For a moment, it was like flying.

  Then he landed hard on his knees, pain ricocheting up into his hips. But he was on the roof. From here he had a wider vantage point, and he swiveled in place, looking for more vehicles or more soldiers. He didn’t see anything.

  Evie was already inching toward him, her face screwed up in concentration. He scurried over to the side of the roof, keeping himself low. The lack of plasma fire was enough to convince him his little free fall hadn’t been spotted, but he was still playing it safe.

  Evie lifted her face, her eyes wide and bright in the darkness.

  He nodded at her.

  She jumped, arms and legs pinwheeling, and Dorian’s heart seized up—she wasn’t going to make it. The arc of her leap wasn’t the right shape. He jumped to his feet and snapped out his arms and grabbed her. She slammed against the side of the building, the impact shuddering in his biceps.

  “I’ve got you,” he said through his teeth, then yanked her up, pulling her over the ledge. She was gasping, wheezing, her eyes wild.

  “You’re fine,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “We won’t have to jump like that again.”

  “I almost died,” she said.

  “But you didn’t.”

  She closed her eyes. “But I didn’t,” she breathed.

  The whine of the Covenant vehicle grew quieter, with only the crunching sound of its footfalls remaining.

  Evie’s eyes flew open. She took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

  Dorian smiled at her. She almost smiled back.

  Dorian held out one hand and helped her to her feet. The vehicle was clambering its way toward the three-way stop that would either send it deeper into town or down toward the water. He and Evie jogged along the roofs, jumping easily over the narrow gaps between buildings. Up ahead, the Covenant machine slowed.

  “It’s going right,” Evie said. “Why would they want to go into town?”

  She was right; the vehicle was headed toward the narrow street leading into the residential part of Brume-sur-Mer.

  “Are you serious?” Evie looked at him, her damp hair whipping out of her hat and sticking to the side of her face. “They’re trying to get into the shelter.”

  “Then why not go for the main entrance? Down at the old tourist houses?” Dorian shook his head. “They’re after something else.”

  The vehicle turned again, left this time, heaving itself into the old neighborhood next to downtown. It had clearly been this way before; even in the darkness, Dorian could see the path that had been cleared for it, the downed trees and demolished houses. The Covenant had done this before. Maybe that’s why there were no soldiers. Whatever they were up to, it had become routine.

  Evie and Dorian slowed; they had reached the last main-street building. Dorian walked over to the far edge, his lungs filling with breath. He wished he had some fancy top secret UNSC equipment, or his uncle’s old analog binoculars, anything that would let him see what was going on.

>   A series of blue lights on the vehicle cast a soft, cool glow around it as it crept through the darkness. Dorian and Evie stood on the roof, unspeaking, as the vehicle moved deeper into the neighborhood.

  And then it stopped.

  “Are you sure there’s not a shelter entrance there?” Evie asked, her voice edged in panic.

  “I’m sure,” Dorian said. “There aren’t any entrances in the older parts of town.”

  “Then what are they doing?”

  The vehicle sat unmoving for a moment. The neighborhood was blanketed in shadows and pale wisps of smoke.

  “You think we can get closer?” Evie asked.

  Dorian glanced at her. Grinned. “Someone’s feeling more adventurous.”

  She glared at him. “I want to know what’s going—”

  A flare of pinkish light erupted from the neighborhood where the vehicle had stopped, brilliant and blinding. Dorian ducked, pulling Evie down with him. A loud whining started to build up, the pink light blooming with its intensity. Evie pulled away from Dorian and peered over the edge of the roof.

  “Look,” she said.

  He did, moving shakily to his feet.

  The vehicle’s large carapace was pointed down, sending a narrow column of pink energy straight into the ground from its nose. The beam disappeared into the hole below the vehicle, but its glow lit up everything around it, casting wild shadows across the neighborhood.

  “That’s not what glassing looks like, is it?” Evie whispered frantically. “Why would they glass the moon while they’re still on it?”

  “They’re not.” Dorian pressed his hands against the railing of the roof, squinting out into the darkness. “They’re—drilling.”

  Evie looked at him. Looked back out at the neighborhood.

  The Covenant’s light burrowed deeper into the soil.

  This is pointless,” Saskia said. “We’re not going to find anything out here.”

  Victor sighed with annoyance. “We’ve only been out here an hour. And we’re not supposed to talk.”

  “Then why are you talking?”

  “To tell you not to.”

  Saskia peered over at him through a curtain of her dark hair. She’d had it pulled back when they left, but during their trip, it had come loose, and she’d shaken it out of its ponytail entirely. Victor felt a flare of heat and looked away. There were more important things to worry about. And Saskia didn’t seem to really care about any of them.

 

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