“Right,” the captain said, inserting the pinkies from both his hands into his mouth and letting out a shrill whistle.
In moments the rest of their party arrived; Cidney in the lead with Melissa and Jason close behind.
“We’ve been over this,” Taylor said, looking each member of the group in the eyes. “We need to be quick. Jason and the captain on weapons, Frank and Melissa on food, and Cidney and I will get the transportation. We meet up at the vehicles in fifteen. Let’s go.”
***
Taylor and Cidney moved through the camp together taking in the strange array of tents and lean-tos. There didn’t appear to be any order to the chaos of the encampment. Single, double, and triple tents of every color were mixed in with shelters made of wood. What looked like a mess area was placed beside a latrine and a supply rack of mismatched equipment.
Taylor did a rough calculation of the force that would occupy such a place. The camp had to house at least twenty, maybe as many as thirty, human mercenaries. The idea reminded Taylor that all haste was needed in their journey to find the vehicles.
“Do you think it’s safe?”
Taylor looked over to where Cidney stood, a full canteen held tentatively to her lips. Only seeing the girl did Taylor realize how tired Cidney must be. She had bags under her eyes from traveling all night and day. Already the light from the sun’s rays was dimming, bringing the first day since the fall of the Ark to a close. Her young friend’s current state was a reminder of her own aching body she had so far managed to ignore.
“Here,” Taylor said motioning for the canteen, “let me.”
Cidney obeyed, handing it over. Taylor gave in to the fatigue in her muscles and allowed herself to lean against a rock outcropping. Looking relieved, Cidney took a seat on the ground.
Taylor threw back her head, the canteen pressed to her lips. The water tasted wonderful. She handed the canteen to Cidney, who cracked a smile as she tasted the refreshing liquid.
Food they would need, but not now. Taylor had to trust that Frank and Melissa could follow through on their assignment. Taylor needed to find trucks or SUVs of some kind.
Taylor helped Cidney to her feet. The girl was attached to the canteen like a baby to a bottle. Taylor made a mental note of paying more attention to her needs. Cidney would never complain no matter how tired or thirsty she was.
Pushing deeper into the camp, tents and piles of equipment gave way to large metal cages. There were four of them, two on each side, with a wide walkway between. Each cage looked capable of carrying a dozen people. The stench that came off them was putrid, some kind of mix between sweat and human excrement. The steel bars were tainted with blood smears.
Taylor could only imagine who had been kept there. The desperation they must have felt and the fear that would follow. There was no way to tell what the cold, unforgiving steel had witnessed. Taylor didn’t want to imagine.
“They put people in these things, to sell as slaves?” Cidney asked, finally taking the canteen from her lips.
“I guess so,” Taylor said with a furrowed brow.
“They’ll do it to you to if you don’t get out of here,” a gruff voice said from somewhere behind her.
Taylor whirled around with a hand already out, ready to blast someone with enough force to break their bones. She didn’t know how she could have missed him. He was hunched over, chained to a chair on the far end of where the cages sat. Long wild brown hair covered his face. Muscles bulged from under a shirt smeared in dried blood.
The man looked up through a curtain of his hair, his face unshaven, his eyes the most primal Taylor had ever witnessed. Some instinct deep inside told Taylor this man could not be trusted.
“Who are you?” Cidney asked. “Are you one of them?”
The man gave a mirthless chuckle, “No, little cub, I am not one of them. For your own sake you need to unchain me. The rest of this mercenary group, the Reckoners, are already on their way back. They’ll be here in minutes.”
“How would you know that if you weren’t connected to them?” Taylor asked, making no move to indulge the man’s requests of freedom.
“Can’t you hear them?” he asked Taylor with a glare so intense she had to remind herself not to look away. “Boots on the ground, tires on the road. Sixty seconds, now stop playing around, untie me.”
“Why?” Taylor asked. “I don’t know you. I don’t know who or what you are. Why should I?”
“Because I can help you. The Reckoners carry enough firepower to rip you in half and they’re not the forgiving type. I heard you kill the three guards they left on duty. What are you anyway? You’re not human. You a Guardian?”
“I don’t know what a Guardian is, but we’re here to get a vehicle. We’ll be gone to leave you and your friends to sort things out,” Taylor moved past the man. Behind the prisoner and the cages, the camp ended in a thick tree line. A large 4x4 truck was submerged in the foliage along with a black military grade Hummer.
“You won’t get far, even if you manage to get in the trucks and leave now. They’ll see the dirt kicked up by the tires, they’ll follow your tracks,” the man said, looking at Taylor with the hint of a grin on his lips. “Thirty seconds.”
Frank and Melissa appeared, panting. Each carrying a backpack bursting with canned food as well as giant water containers they held in their arms.
“Vehicles!” Melissa gasped. She looked wide-eyed at the stranger shackled to the chair. “We need to go.”
Scenarios were running through Taylor’s mind at a dizzying rate. Staying and fighting against a force that not only outnumbered them but outgunned them wasn’t an option. She wouldn’t risk the life of her people. Still, what the stranger said made sense. They would be pursued, maybe even run down before they were able to get on the road.
“Ten seconds,” the prisoner said.
The low hum of moving vehicles reached Taylor at the same time Captain Martin and Jason appeared. Loaded down with weapons, they came to a panting halt beside the group.
“There are—” Jason started, trying to get the words out between gasping breaths.
“I know,” Taylor said moving past the point of thought to action. Whatever their plan was, any plan was better than sitting there like a group of idiots waiting to be killed. “Captain Martin and I will create a diversion. Frank and Cidney in the truck, Jason and Melissa in the SUV. We’ll create a hole for you. Meet us a mile down the road. If we don’t show in an hour go on without us.”
“I can help,” Jason said
“We aren’t leaving without you,” Cidney said at the same time.
“No room for debate,” Taylor said giving Cidney a gentle shove and Jason a firm glance. “We’ll be fine. Now go.”
The sound of heavy vehicles grew stronger the entire time. With screeches of brakes, rough running engines were shut off, boots hit the ground, and doors slammed closed. Shouts echoed through the chill air close, too close.
“They’ve found the dead guards,” the stranger said. “Out of time.”
“Who’s this guy?” the captain asked, checking the magazine of a giant machine gun he held with expert hands.
“You need me,” the prisoner said. Finally losing his cool he pulled against the chains in anger. “I’ll help you. You have to let me go.”
Taylor checked the progress of the rest of the party. They were loading the equipment inside the truck and SUV, they would require as much time as Taylor and the captain could buy them. Taylor needed any and every edge she could find.
“You betray us,” Taylor said, approaching the man still chained like an animal, “and I’ll crush your throat myself.”
With a glance Taylor snapped the chains at the man’s wrists. A look of relief crossed his face as he stood. “It’s good to see I’m not the only one with a unique skill set in this fight.”
“What are you talking about?” Taylor asked. Even as the words left her mouth bullets peppered the dirt all around them.
&nb
sp; ***
The Reckoners reached the back of their encampment, furious at discovering Taylor and her team. Running from the gunfire would have been the obvious choice. Taylor couldn’t leave the vehicles. Not yet. Cidney and the rest of the group finished loading the equipment. With Melissa piloting the SUV and Frank behind the wheel of the truck, the engines roared to life.
Taylor took a spot in front of the vehicles, one hand pushed out in front of her. Although she had never attempted to stop a bullet before, if she could move things with her mind then why not stop things as well?
Mercenaries poured into the prison area of the camp like angry ants. Captain Martin took up a defensive position to the right behind a low hill with a group of trees. From his spot he picked off the approaching soldiers. His window of success was quickly closing. Once they pinpointed his location he would be saturated with the enemy’s superior firepower.
Taylor searched the grounds for the stranger. He was nowhere to be seen.
Great, Taylor thought, I should have left him chained to the chair for all the help he’s going to be.
Something pushed against her mind, interrupting her thoughts on the escaped convict. Taylor refocused her attention. The nudge came again. It wasn’t until the third time it happened that she realized what it was.
Focusing her power on stopping anything in front of her, bullets were striking the invisible barrier she had erected. Taylor strained to remain focused as she imagined a wall set in place. Arms extended, she held the invisible shield firm.
More and more gunfire was finding her location. Dozens of armed men and women took up a line in front of her pumping round after round in her direction. A quick glance revealed the captain wasn’t faring any better. Pinned down behind a fallen log he fired blindly at the approaching force.
Taylor began to perspire. Cidney and the others couldn’t move without being shot at. Likewise if the mercenaries breached her shield the others would be magnets for the hail of lead. The strain of holding the protective wall was becoming too great to bear. Taylor staggered as grenades were lobbed forward and met her wall with devastating accuracy. Smoke encased her, and the earth shook. If it was possible, the hullabaloo rose in volume.
She would need to lower her screen to form any kind of counterattack. That idea was quickly dismissed. Allowing her protective barrier to dissolve even for a brief moment would mean the vehicles behind her would be unprotected.
Then, help came in the most unexpected form. The prisoner whose name she still didn’t know was suddenly among the group of Reckoners. The way they reacted to his assault, it was like they had no idea he was there. The man was smart. In the middle of the ear splitting sounds of gunfire, individual screams would be impossible to hear.
The man picked off the Reckoners one by one, quickly and efficiently. He began at the rear of the group and worked his way forward, protecting his back. With everyone focused on Taylor and the captain he had free reign of the herd. Like a wolf among sheep he moved with decisive brutality.
The first man he took with a rock. The blunt instrument caved in the right side of his target’s face. Before his unsuspecting victim had even hit the ground the ex-prisoner ripped out the throat of the next man with his bare hands. Two more mercenaries noticed the act and moved to yell a warning but the stranger who seemed more animal than anything else was already on top of them. With a vicious uppercut he sent one man to the ground, then turning on the other he tore the man’s own rifle from his hands and used it as a club to send him into the next world.
Over and over he moved from one victim to the next, death following his every move. Taylor knew sooner or later his luck would run out. She was torn. On one hand she was rooting for the stranger to win. At the moment his enemies were her own. On the other hand she felt a sick twist in her stomach at the way he doled out executions. His hands and most of his body were saturated in blood. While she knew it had to be her imagination or the way the setting sun was reflecting off his eyes, they seemed to glow with a primal yellow tint.
Much sooner than Taylor would have liked, the Reckoners discovered what was happening to their numbers. Bullets stopped flying toward Taylor and began searching for the man who was butchering them from within their own ranks.
Taylor seized the opportunity. It was now or never. Rushing forward, she threw herself into the pandemonium that ensued.
The fight was unlike any she had participated in. Before her transformation she had always relied on hand-to-hand combat. After her move from human to whatever she was now, Taylor used her new abilities of telekinesis to deal with the Dread. To survive this fight she would have to use a hybrid of the two.
Captain Martin stood from his defensive position and picked off members of the Reckoners with precision like accuracy. The ex-prisoner moved like a blur of yellow eyes and teeth. The Reckoners fired wildly, a few times even finding their mark on the stranger. Whether their bullets did or did not hit she couldn’t tell, although the result was the same: the wild man didn’t stop.
Taylor sent out crushing blows of force that struck her victims, breaking bones. When she was too far away from her opponent she would use her ability to send them flying backward through the air. When she was closer her years of training took over and she relied on finishing strikes to her adversaries’ temples and jaws.
Something hit her right shoulder and pain lanced down her arm. Ignoring it, she pressed on. The Reckoners had lost more than half their number and she knew what came next.
“Retreat!”
“Run!”
More and more yells were ringing out. Before, shouts of aggression from the mercenary ranks had torn through the air. Now, as the tide of battle turned the yells were transforming to fear.
Reckoners were breaking off and running in all directions. Taylor counted eight who made it to the edge of the woods and were swallowed by the foliage.
Her breath came in ragged gasps. The combination of lack of food and rest wore on her more than she would have liked. Compared to the noise of minutes before, the scene was now as silent as a tomb.
“No,” a women’s voice pleaded, “no, Iron Wolf, please. Here, take it.”
A middle-aged woman was on her back, bleeding from a brutal wound to her stomach. The stranger, apparently this “Iron Wolf,” loomed over her with menace in his yellow eyes.
“Here, here, it’s yours,” the woman said again. With a feeble attempt she threw something long and shiny at his feet.
It was so dark now Taylor had trouble seeing exactly what it was. One thing she was sure of, he was going to kill the woman on the ground.
“Tell me,” the stranger said, kneeling beside the dying woman and pressing an unforgiving hand on her wounded stomach. “Where did you take the last shipment of slaves? What is the Dread using them to build?”
The woman was clearly beyond all reason, her eyes wide with a mixture of pain and fear.
When the stranger pressed down on her injury, thick red blood oozed through her clothes and over his hand. She screamed out in agony.
While Taylor wasn’t about to try and save someone who had enslaved and sold humans, neither was she willing to stand by and watch torture. “She can’t tell you anything if she can’t breathe,” Taylor said, approaching the two.
The stranger looked up at her, his eyes a bright green, not yellow, no indication of his teeth being anything except normal, straight, and pearly white. With a grunt he moved his hand from the woman’s wound.
“Thank you, thank you!” the woman gasped.
“You better tell, uh, the Iron Wolf, what he wants to know,” Taylor said. “I don’t think he’s going to listen to me much longer.”
The woman nodded slowly, “We sold them to the Dread in Washington. I—I don’t know what they were using them for.”
What sounded like a low growl emanated from deep within the chest of the stranger and Taylor looked him over again. He was tall with enough muscle to overpower anyone he came in contact with
. His clothes were worn, nearly tattered. Covered in blood, it was hard to see if any of the fluid was his or it had all come from his deceased enemies.
“I’ll give you one last chance to tell the truth before things get…” he paused, looking to Taylor then at the woman on the ground again, “…primeval.”
“No, no please!” the woman begged. Blood was sputtering from her lips. “That’s all I know, they’re building something in Washington, something about a vault, that’s all I know, I swear!”
The stranger crouched down to pick up the item on the ground that had been offered to him by the woman moments before. In the twilight Taylor could make out the shape of an ancient saber still in its sheath.
“Maybe that is all you know,” the stranger said, drawing the blade from the steel sheath with a distinct ring. “Actually, I think I might even believe you. But you can’t be allowed to live, not after what you’ve done.”
A moral war was raging inside Taylor. On one hand what the woman had done, human trafficking with the Dread as the buyers, was beyond appalling. Yet could she really stand by and watch the helpless woman be murdered at the hands of…,of…she really didn’t know what he was.
Taylor’s dilemma was solved for her. The stranger hadn’t even taken a step toward her and already the woman’s eyes were rolling into the back of her head, her last breath escaping her lips in a faint whisper.
Chapter 6
“Good riddance,” the stranger said. He sheathed his sword and reached under his shirt with a grimace, pulling a bullet from somewhere deep in his chest.
“So I didn’t imagine it,” Taylor said, leaning forward to get a better look in the dark. “The bullets did hit you. Who—what are you?”
Illumination from the headlights of the two vehicles the rest of the party were in pierced through the growing darkness. Captain Martin and the others gathered around Taylor and the stranger to hear the conversation.
All The Broken People (The Dread Series Book 2) Page 5