“You said some people were fighting to keep the Covenant away.”
Saskia hesitated. “Yes, but if you can fight, I’d rather you stay here. Help get people to safety.” She handed her pistol to the woman. “Here,” she said. “Take this. Go to the front of the line while I make sure everyone gets out of the shelter.”
The woman studied the gun for a moment before taking it. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” Saskia said, retrieving the Covenant plasma rifle from her back.
The woman’s eyes suddenly went big before returning to the pistol. “Sounds good.”
Saskia watched the woman trot toward the narrow clearing. Then she turned to the others. “Keep going!” she said, walking alongside them. “Into the woods.” She jogged over to the shelter door. People were still pushing their way out, gasping when they stepped into the open air. Harried parents, wide-eyed children, tired old people. All of them gaping up at the rainy sky like they’d never seen it before. Some of them thanked her as they walked past, and Saskia just offered them a tight smile. We’re not off Meridian yet.
When it seemed like the last people had left the shelter, Saskia called up Salome to confirm.
“Yes,” Salome said. “The shelter is empty.”
Saskia let out a long sigh of relief and then ran up the side of the line, weaving through the trees and underbrush, until she got to the front. The woman with her pistol was up there, along with a new trio of adults armed with hunting rifles. They must have brought them down into the shelter during the evacuation.
“We heading in the right direction?” asked one of them, a rangy woman with a hard expression. They all eyed her plasma rifle, not sure what to make of it.
“Yes. Like I said, there’s a path, but it’s hard to see.”
“Especially in this weather,” the woman muttered.
Saskia didn’t disagree. The rain made everything slick and dark and wild. But the path was there, a faint outline trailing up through the woods. It had probably been created by the Sundered Legion a hundred years ago, the path from the town to the hangar.
The crowd made a lot of noise as they walked through the woods. Owen had warned her it would be like that. He had also told her it would be too difficult to make them stay quiet. It wasn’t just from talking—very few were talking, really—but rather the crackling, shredding distraction of a group of people fighting their way through a wet, overgrown forest. It made Saskia realize how adept she and the others had become at creeping silently through the woods, measuring their steps, taking advantage of the ambient noise of the forest.
All that sound made Saskia nervous now.
She hefted the plasma rifle in her hands, checking its energy levels on a holographic readout. The rifle looked like two large violet teardrops connected by a heavy grip clearly made to be used by another species. Rather than taking a weapon from her parents’ stash, Saskia ended up selecting one of the Covenant’s that Owen had retrieved. She wasn’t sure if this was because she’d become strangely accustomed to the Covenant weapons over the past few days, or if it was some kind of act of defiance against her parents. Either way, she felt more comfortable using the plasma rifle at this point than anything else.
As the caravan of people slowly trod down the path, she flicked her eyes around, looking for movement in the leaves. Just a kilometer, she told herself. And Owen and the others were drawing the Covenant down to Brume Beach, and—
Someone screamed.
Saskia squeezed her fingers around the plasma rifle’s grip and whirled around, holding the weapon up high, tight against her shoulder. Screams rippled down from the crowd, which was scattering into the woods.
“The Covenant!” a voice wailed. “They found us!”
Saskia gestured at her armed guards. “Go,” she said. “Fan out along the sides.” They did as she asked without question. Saskia bolted forward into the crowd, which parted for her, their eyes on the Covenant rifle, which sparked with an electric charge at its mouth. The screaming pierced at Saskia’s ears.
Then she saw it. A Covenant soldier. A Sangheili. Two and a half meters tall, its legs and torso covered in heavy ivory armor and its bare arms fiercely muscled. The UNSC called them Elites and she didn’t have to guess why—they were proud, strong creatures that looked like they were born to kill. Its mandibles clacked. One strong hand was wrapped around the neck of a skinny, wild-eyed man, who thrashed and clawed at its arm.
The Sangheili looked up at Saskia, eyes gleaming behind its helmet.
“Let him go,” Saskia said, holding up the rifle, in fighting stance, the way Owen had showed her.
The Sangheili spoke in its language, heavy, growling syllables. The man in its grip gasped and kicked.
“Let him go,” Saskia said. And then, with a flash of white anger behind her eyes, she unloaded a barrage of plasma bolts into the alien, its armor seemingly absorbing the fire. In one fluid motion, the Sangheili dropped the man, reached for something that had been latched to its thigh, and activated it: two white, curved blades of superheated plasma, a Sangheili energy sword. Then without hesitation it bounded for her at an astonishing speed. Saskia dove to the ground and rolled into the underbrush as the sword burned through the greenery after her. She burrowed herself into the growth.
The Sangheili said something again, growling through its mandibles, as it began leveling the brush she’d darted into.
Through the dripping leaves, she watched the man crawl away, into the arms of another terrified-looking man, who dragged him into the trees. The Sangheili ignored him. She knew it was looking for her.
She couldn’t fight this thing and win. But she could get it away from the townspeople.
The Sangheili finally stepped into the underbrush, its heavy armored foot a few meters from her position. She sucked in her breath and whipped her rifle around and fired at its massive column of a leg.
An energy shield flared again and the Sangheili’s sword came down into the mud right where she’d been, but Saskia was already stowing her rifle on her back and racing deeper into the woods at full speed. She grabbed hold of the first low-hanging tree branch she saw and frantically pulled herself up into its branches. The Sangheili roared somewhere behind her and must have swung its energy sword close to her leg, because she could feel the heat of it scorch her skin. She continued to scale, trying to get as much distance as she could between her and the alien. The Sangheili’s pale, shark-like eyes tracked her movements for a few seconds before it hefted itself up after her. It wasn’t going to give up easily and Saskia began to wonder if this might not end the way she wanted. When it came within arm’s length, she leapt from the tree, landed hard, and ran, weaving through the vines and crowded trees. She didn’t have a plan. All she knew was that she had to draw it away from the townspeople.
In the distance, she heard screams. Plasma fire.
The Sangheili launched from the tree like a panther on the hunt, shouting something in its thorny language. She suspected it was telling her to give up.
A volley of human gunfire. Shouts of triumph. There couldn’t be that many Covenant here. Not with their attention focused on the town. But it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Saskia grabbed ahold of a thick, dangling vine and scrambled up into the dark canopy of a banyan tree, roughly fifteen meters aboveground. The Sangheili made a noise that even to her human ears sounded mocking. She found solid footing and reached for her rifle, aiming it down at the alien. According to the energy readout, she had 70 percent left.
Please be enough, she thought. The Sangheili deactivated its sword, returning it to its thigh as it approached the trunk of the tree. It leered up at her with a satisfied gaze and crouched low to the ground. Then it jumped.
It shot straight up into the canopy and landed amid the branches with astonishing power and speed. Saskia screamed and fired off a trio of shots that scattered off the Sangheili’s energy shield, burning the leaves around her. It made that mocking sound again, and began
to climb upward—
And crashed down through the branches.
Saskia let out a terrified laugh. It was too heavy for the tree. She scrambled forward and peered down at where it lay sprawled on the ground. Its energy shield flickered.
It growled, jerked to its feet. But it was moving slowly.
She pointed her rifle at its chest, using the branches to support her. Just like firing on the Locust. Enough firepower would have to take it down.
She squeezed the trigger.
The Sangheili’s shield flared, but she kept unloading into it, realizing that the rifle would eventually need to vent, otherwise it would overheat. It tried to jump again but only made it about halfway up the tree. She glanced at the readout and saw the rifle’s heat spiking; the weapon was getter hotter by the second.
The Sangheili roared and lunged at her again. She slid backward on the branches. Kept firing.
Her rifle began to fume acrid plasma.
The shield vanished. Saskia’s arms trembled.
Her hands began to burn against the rifle’s grip.
The Sangheili screamed. Dark blue blood sprayed across the leaves, and the Sangheili’s arm jerked backward, pulling the rest of its body with it. It landed hard on the ground and then scrabbled to its feet, roaring. One arm hung useless and bleeding at its side.
Her rifle finally choked, venting large torrents of gas from its side. Her hands felt like they were on fire.
The Sangheili took advantage of this opportunity and leapt up the side of the tree, grabbing at the vines with its good arm.
The plasma rifle had finished venting and showed that a thirty percent charge remained. Saskia wasn’t sure if that’d be enough to finish the job, but it didn’t matter—she didn’t have any other options. She lifted the rifle and fired as the Sangheili came dangerously close to her position, ripping through the muscles in its other arm. It fell to the ground again, howling, and this time she scrambled down the other side of the tree and ran, its final screams echoing behind her.
Evie heard gunfire as she raced through the woods to the rendezvous point, halfway along the path between shelter door number five and the Sundered Legion hangar. She faltered in her steps, tripping over a tangle of wet vines.
Owen and the others should be at the beach by now. And that last shot sounded much, much closer.
Evie yanked her plasma pistol out of its holster and held it awkwardly in front of her as she resumed running, straining for any sound over the rustle of raindrops.
Was that screaming?
“No,” she whispered, and she tore through the underbrush, wet branches slapping at her face. The screaming grew louder. Closer. Through the trees she saw flashes of movement. Human movement. They weren’t screaming anymore, but there was a panicked urgency to the voices.
She burst out of the trees, into the wild, overgrown path. Haggard people clumped together. A handful of them were brandishing guns.
“What’s going on?” she shouted.
A man looked over at her, confusion crossing his brow. “Weren’t you down there with us?”
Evie shook her head.
“She’s one of the others,” a woman said, pushing through the crowd. “The Nazari girl said there were others.”
“I heard gunfire,” Evie said.
“We got attacked by the Covenant,” the man said. “A couple of Sangheili. The three of us shot one dead. Don’t know about the other one—couldn’t see.”
“She chased it away.” A little boy leaned around his mother’s legs. “The girl who saved us.”
“Her name is Saskia,” Evie said, then dashed away from the line before they could ask her any more questions. Fear clawed at her chest. Saskia had chased it away? How was that even possible?
She pushed her way to the front of the line. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw Saskia was there with her plasma rifle, looking weak and exhausted. Leaves and twigs were tangled up in her hair, and her arms were crisscrossed with angry scratches. But she was alive.
“Evie,” Saskia gasped. She darted forward and threw her arms around Evie’s neck. Evie squeezed her in return.
“Did you really chase that thing away?” Evie asked.
Saskia laughed. “I guess. I drew it out into the woods and shot it.” There wasn’t much humor in her laughter, though, and she looked out at the crowd. “We need to get them moving again. I’m not sure it’s actually dead; I didn’t stick around to find out. I think there are going to be more Covenant on the way.”
“I didn’t see any on my way here.”
“Still.” Saskia looked over at her. “Can you spread word down the line? That we need to move?”
Evie nodded, then gave Saskia another hug before jogging back down the line.
“We need to keep moving!” she shouted. “Follow the path!”
The startled cries of the crowd started up again.
It was coming from the end of the line. People jumped, shouted, surged forward. “Stay calm!” Evie screamed. “But keep moving!” She took off. In the rain, she heard the pulses of plasma bolts, smelled something burning. A handful of lights shone through the trees and then vanished.
“Go, go, go!” she shouted as she ran.
A squat figure darted in front of her, squealing and shrieking. She yelled in surprise, fired at it. Missed. More plasma fire up ahead. She took off, shoving past frightened townspeople, until she saw a streak of purple light, heard a terrified scream. People were spread out on the ground, their hands covering their heads. Blood splayed across the leaves.
No, she thought. No no no no no.
“Sniper,” someone shouted. “Up in the trees.”
Evie dropped down to the ground, but tilted her gaze up at the canopy. Two could play at that game.
Rain splashed through the leaves and into her eyes. She craned her neck, peering through the web of leaves. It was the opposite of the surveillance work she’d done with Dorian. It was harder.
Then she saw it. A flash of violet in the wash of green.
Evie fired off her pistol just as a beam of light exploded out of the trees. The bolt hit the wet mulchy ground centimeters from Evie’s body, leaving a black streak in its wake. She fired again, her hands shaking.
A weight slammed out of the trees.
Evie struggled to her feet, dizzy with adrenaline. She was aware of people shrieking and crying around her, but she just drifted forward until she come to the body of the Kig-Yar. The same species that had tried to pull her from the car the night of the invasion.
It was dead.
She turned back to the townspeople. Two people lay on the ground. Another few were bleeding, although they could stand.
“We have to go,” Evie said, her voice hoarse. “Before they send more.”
“We can’t leave them here!” a woman shrieked, gesturing at the two men. One of them groaned, and fear stabbed at Evie’s heart. Wounded, she thought.
“No,” she said without thinking. “We’ll have to carry them. It’s not far. Less than a kilometer.”
The woman nodded, knelt down between the two bodies. The one who had groaned was a young man, his face waxy and pale. The other was an older woman, blood darkening the side of her stomach. She blinked her eyes, smiled weakly at Evie.
“You got him,” she said.
Evie blushed. “I did what I had to.”
Someone had gone to fetch a couple of men—fishermen types, from the look of them, tall and broad-shouldered. They picked up the two wounded, cradled them carefully against their chests. One of them looked over at Evie, as if waiting for approval.
“Go as fast as you can,” she said, hoping this was the right answer. “We might be able to treat them on the ship.”
Slowly, the crowd began to move forward. Evie trailed behind, walking backward, her pistol extended. She was exhausted, and all she wanted was to fight through the crowd until she found her father. But that wasn’t part of the plan. Not yet.
Rendezvous wi
th Saskia. Help her if needed.
Get Victor’s car. Bring it to the extraction point on the beach. Get Dorian to the ship.
Get the hell off Meridian.
The car was waiting for her halfway between the rendezvous point and the hangar. They should be getting to it soon. Part of her didn’t want to leave—what if there was another attack? But she told herself that Saskia could handle it. Saskia and the people of the town. They had handled the two Sangheili. And they only had to go a kilometer.
Plasma fire sliced through the woods, sizzling the tree leaves. Evie fired in the direction of the shot, her gun blasts shattering the forest. She whipped her head around—the last of the crowd were running now, screaming, but it didn’t look like anyone had been hurt.
Another shot from the woods. Evie moved forward, fired into the trees. Something cried out, then thudded hard into the ground.
“You need help?”
Evie whirled around. A quartet of townspeople had broken away from the line. All of them were armed.
“I got him,” she said, “but there will be more.” She paused. “And I’ll be splitting off in a minute. To get the rest.”
“The people fighting on the beach?” A woman holding a pistol against her chest smiled thinly. One of Saskia’s parents’ pistols, Evie realized.
“Yes,” Evie said. And the person who can fly that ship out of here.
“We’ve got you covered,” the woman said, and then, moving with all the grace of a dancer, she steadied her pistol and fired off a round of ammunition. A squawk from the woods.
“Good eye,” one of the others said.
Evie took a deep breath. She was too distracted. She had to focus.
“You,” the woman said. “Go. Get the others.” She steadied her pistol again. “We’ll be fine here.”
Evie looked from each person to the next. One of them, the other woman, seemed vaguely familiar, and after a moment, Evie realized she was a waitress at the little seaside café where Evie and her father would go eat in the evenings sometimes. When things were normal.
“Thank you,” Evie said. Then she jogged away, ducking into the woods. The voices of the townspeople followed her as she wove through the vines and leaves, her eye on the glint of metal up ahead.
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