Gunz

by William Stacey

  "It reminds me of old pictures from Hiroshima after the bomb," said Alex.

  "Bale-Fire's not here," said Kargin. "Maybe he hunts. If so, we'd best find the orb before he comes back."

  "What do you want me to do?" Sharon asked.

  Alex leaned past her shoulder, peering at the blackened remains. There, near the concrete lip of the reservoir, was the bunker, the large, manmade hill with the entrance to the underground complex housing the Jump Tube. "Can you put us down over there, maybe a couple hundred meters away from the bunker?"

  "Got it." She banked the aircraft and began to descend. As they landed, the rotors kicked up clouds of soot, obscuring their vision.

  "Careful," he said, squeezing her shoulder.

  She mumbled something beneath her breath.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. I didn't expect this ash—and it rained last night. Either it didn't rain here, or the fire was way hotter than we thought."

  "Bale-Fire," answered Kargin, as though that said it all.

  Through the swirling ash cloud below, Alex recognized the charred remains of vehicles, including an MRAP patrol vehicle that looked like melted candle wax.

  Elizabeth stumbled into the cockpit. "Alex, something just happened. All three of us felt it, like—"

  "A wave coursing past," Alex answered.

  Elizabeth stared at him. "You felt it, too?"

  "Saw it. Green flash."

  "It was the Culling Wave," said Kargin. "I'm sure of it, but it shouldn't have ended so quickly. Perhaps they're testing it."

  "You think?" Alex asked.

  Kargin sighed. "I have no idea, but it's only ever been used before on Faerum, and they no longer have my father to help them with it. I think we need to find this orb quickly."

  "Unless you all want to land way harder than I'd like," Sharon said testily, staring intently at the swirling clouds of ash obscuring her view, "I suggest you either shut it or get out of my cockpit."

  Elizabeth bolted away.

  Sharon drew back on the collective as she approached the hill that contained the bunker and the entrance to the underground. The closer she came to the ground, the more the rotors kicked up the ash, now completely obscuring the cockpit canopy. Some of the ashes still burned, with fiery sparks whipping about, leaving trails. "Shit," she said, ripping away her sunglasses and handing them to Alex. "I'm coming in blind. This is batshit crazy."

  "You got this."

  Kargin grunted noncommittally.

  Sharon Chan had been a member of Task Force Devil since the beginning, back when he had been the senior Canadian officer. With combat tours in Afghanistan, word was she was an exceptional pilot, the best of the best. Alex, his heart pounding beneath his armor, prayed that was the case, because from his prior airmobile training, he knew she was performing a dozen tasks at once—without a copilot and blinded by ash. She worked the cyclic, collective, throttle, and yaw—descending, slowing down, and adjusting the heading and pitch of the thirty-thousand-pound transport aircraft.

  "Alex," she said softly, "let go of my seat. You're messing with my mojo."

  "Sorry," he said, releasing the death grip he had on the back of her pilot's chair.

  When, a moment later, the Chinook's rear wheels gently touched the ground, it came as a surprise. The front of the aircraft settled down as well. Sharon smiled.

  They had landed.

  "Now that was something," said Kargin. "You sure you don't have a little dwarf in you?"

  "Only on Friday nights," she said. She began to shut down controls, paused, and looked over her shoulder. "Get 'em out of here, Alex."

  Alex grabbed Kargin's arm, pulled him out of his seat, and hauled him along with him into the cargo area. "Let's go! Get out!" he yelled to the others.

  Swamp Thing already had the ramp down, and his duffel-bag bomb on his back, his C-9 LMG held tight against his shoulder, he led a mad dash through the swirling, choking ash clouds. Kargin was right behind him, the head of his fighting ax glowing red-hot through the ash, providing a beacon for the others to follow. Alex waited at the ramp as everyone exited, including the clearly terrified Helena and the three mag-sens. When they were all gone, he screamed over the engine, yelling loud enough for Sharon to hear him. "Leave it, Sharon. Haul ass."

  "Coming!" As the engine began to wind down, she bolted from the cockpit, struggling to put on her armor and tactical vest while fumbling with her SCAR. With only one arm through the armored vest, she dodged past Alex. "Keys are in the ignition. 402 can have their bird back."

  "Later!" he yelled, running along and helping her with her gear. "Maybe we'll need a ride home."

  "You wish."

  As she moved forward, heading toward Kargin's red-hot ax-head, Alex followed, scanning his surroundings. He saw nothing through the choking, stinging ash. He half expected to see a massive shape burst out of the ash followed by a torrent of flames, but nothing happened. There's no dragon, he told himself. Not unless it's invisible.

  We should be good.

  I hope.

  Shadows flitted ahead of him, and he stumbled toward them, hearing someone coughing. It was early afternoon, but the ash kicked up by the rotors obscured the sun, creating a gray haze. He lost Sharon but saw Kargin's ax-head wave about in the air. "Here!" the dwarf cried out.

  Alex tripped on something and fell, gasping hot ash into his throat. Looking about, he no longer saw Kargin's ax and realized he had been turned about somehow. He was going to have to call out for help, but he didn't want to open his mouth and breathe in the ash again.

  A shape materialized in front of him, low and moving on all fours. When a tongue licked his face, he reached out and grabbed Clyde's collar, climbing back to his feet again. With Alex still holding Clyde's collar, the dog led him away. The farther they travelled from the still-spinning rotors, the clearer the air became, and now he could see again, although it was like walking in a hot, dirty fog. A strong gust of wind blew the ash away, revealing the others waiting just ahead for him. Elizabeth stood out front, her hands held before her, a constant wind still swirling about her, pushing the ash away. He breathed cleaner air. Thank you, Elizabeth.

  Paco, his shirt pulled up over his mouth and nose, met him. "We need to get away from the chopper, at least until the rotors stop."

  "Which way is the bunker?" Alex asked as he joined the others.

  "That way—I think," said Sharon.

  "Aye, she's right," answered Kargin, his ax back in his vest. "I see that hill through the ash."

  "You can?" Alex stared at the surrounding grayness.

  "We dwarves have fine eyesight."

  "Let's go then," Alex said, leading the way.

  With each step, the air became more bearable and their visibility improved, although the grayness still made it like walking in fog. The air, although foul, was breathable, even if it tasted like tar. They walked past a handful of large black ravens pecking at charcoal husks on the ground. The ravens squawked angrily until they moved farther away.

  Alex didn't dwell on their meal.

  He heard Huck speaking behind him and paused to see what she was doing just as she finished speaking into the microphone of the odd radio set she wore on her back. "What was that?" he asked her.

  "Radio check. We're good."

  "With who?"

  "Whom. With whom. A battery of M-177 guns from my unit. The radio was already preloaded with crypto and frequencies. All I had to do was switch it on and use a FOO call sign."

  "You're kidding me!"

  "Nope." She flashed him a gap-toothed smile. "I had to lie my ass off, but they think we're part of a CSOR LRRP, gone downrange to spy on the aliens." She pronounced it as "lurp"—a long-range reconnaissance patrol.

  "And they believed you?"

  "Why not? Word hasn't gotten out yet to all the sub-units about what we just did. I figure we got an hour, maybe less until the brass un-fucks the situation back at the MDA and passes the word that we're off the reservation. B
ut until then, we've got fire support with pinpoint accuracy thanks to this li'l darling." She held up a laser-targeting device attached to the backpack by a thick black cable. "You give me a target, and I'll light it up. Finally do my job for a change."

  He barked out a laugh and squeezed her bicep. "I like you, Huck. You can come die with me."

  "Thanks."

  He led them farther on, and without the helicopter disturbing the ash, the air became much cleaner, although their boots continued to dredge up the soot. The river and the dam lay just ahead. The wind gusted down the riverbed, sending ripples running over the surface of the reservoir and sending the water slapping softly against the concrete barrier alongside the shoreline two hundred feet away. The bunker lay ahead, just as Kargin had said. Alex picked up the pace, hurrying around the hill to the large round blast door that led to the underground complex.

  He stopped and stared in confusion.

  The circular blast-steel doors, normally wide enough for a fork truck to drive through, were now warped and damaged beyond any hope of opening. It looked as though they had been subjected to unimaginable heat, blackened, and fused solid with the surrounding concrete frame. Even odder were the foot-deep furrows ripped from the hillside, as if the dragon had attempted to dig its way past the door.

  "Goddamn," he whispered.

  "Must have happened after we went through," said Swamp Thing as he joined him. "We closed the doors behind us, but… I don't know. Maybe it was pissed and was trying to stop us from escaping, but … that's crazy, right? I mean, it's an animal."

  "Bale-Fire's no animal," said Kargin, now standing on Alex's other side. Behind the dwarf, the others stood waiting. The other soldiers dropped down on one knee and scanned their surroundings. Kargin continued. "No one knows the origins of the wyrms, but they're intelligent—likely far cleverer than any of us and definitely more devious. No offense, but Bale-Fire wasn't after you. To a great dragon, you're little more than annoying food."

  "What then?" asked Alex, staring at the claw marks in the hillside.

  "If I was a betting dwarf, and I am, I'd say he smelled out the Shatkur Orb you have buried away in the ground."

  "That can't be possible. According to Helena, the orb is hundreds of feet below ground, past the Bore Hole and in the same cavern as the Jump Tube. It's hermetically sealed. There's no way this thing could smell it."

  "Wrong word, then," said the dwarf. "Not smell. Sense. Dragons are attuned to magic, and the damned wyrms are always lusting after magical items—especially dwarven ones, and there's damned few items they'd covet more than a Shatkur Orb. We need to be very wary. If Bale-Fire tried this hard to get beyond that door, I doubt very much he would have just given up."

  "This … Bale-Fire," asked Alex. "He … it could sense this orb even deep underground?"

  Kargin snorted. "From beneath an ocean, I'd wager. Even drained, a Shatkur Orb would emanate magic like a beacon."

  "Captain," said Swamp Thing, a note of concern in his voice.

  "Speak up."

  "We escaped through an access tunnel along the reservoir, near the generating station on the water. We closed the door behind us but had no way to lock it."

  "It's still open?"

  Swamp Thing nodded. "Too small for a dragon, though. It's a maintenance door to an access vent."

  Alex's gaze swept over the reservoir, the dam, and the mostly intact generating station over the water. He sighed, making his mind up quickly. "We're not getting past this door now—not ever. Take us to this vent. We'll make our way underground from there. If the dark elves are already testing the machine…"

  Clyde whined, turning about in circles before running to Paco. Paco hugged the dog's head. Can't say as I blame him, thought Alex. I don't like it here either. Feels like a graveyard.

  Swamp Thing opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, the waters of the reservoir exploded as a monstrously large, four-horned serpentine head the size of a bus burst out, spraying water like rain. Someone screamed. Fear chilled Alex's soul, paralyzing him. The dragon glared at them with black eyes. Steam and water burst from its nostrils as it vented air. It opened its monstrously large jaws, exposing rows of swordlike teeth. Water poured down the red-gold scales on its long neck.

  It had been waiting for them beneath the reservoir.

  48

  Elizabeth stared in horror as the dragon burst from beneath the reservoir. It surged forward through the water, crashing against the concrete abutment of the shoreline, sending waves washing over the rim. A thunderous boom shook her out of her paralysis, followed by a bright flash as Paco fired his Carl Gustav. The missile shot across the short distance, exploding in a burst of black smoke against the dragon's right wing, ripping a six-foot hole in it and tearing through the dragon's armlike appendages from which the wing grew out like a bat's. The dragon fell back into the waters, shrieking so loudly Elizabeth had to cover her ears. A moment later, the dragon surged forward again but awkwardly this time and only using its uninjured left wing to propel itself forward. Blood sprayed from the ruptured tissue on the right wing. Days ago, Clara's missile had struck the dragon's scaled chest, not the leathery wing.

  It could be hurt.

  The dragon lifted its horned head high and shrieked in rage. The basilisk had been larger than an elephant, but this monster was easily the size of a whale and sported a hundred-foot wingspan. It gripped the rim of the abutment with its uninjured appendage and wrenched itself up out of the water and onto the concrete shoreline. Water cascaded down its scaled flanks, and it shook itself like a dog, sending sheets of water flying.

  "Fire! Fire! Fire!" Alex screamed.

  The soldiers scattered. Bursts of rifle fire erupted around Elizabeth. Those bullets that hit the scales ricocheted dangerously in all directions, but others punched through the wings, leaving small—and likely ineffectual—holes in the tissue. Another Carl Gustav rocket struck the concrete near the beast's hindquarters, sending shrapnel winging through the air. The dragon shrieked again, in pain or rage, she couldn't tell, but its uninjured wing snapped out, kicking up a cloud of ash. The damaged wing didn't extend, and when the dragon leaped into the sky, it fell back again a moment later, shaking the ground and sending another black curtain of ash into the air.

  It can't fly, Cassie flashed at her through the crown. Get out of there!

  I … what? she replied, staring stupidly at the monster, less than fifty feet from her.

  You're in the open, Cassie flashed. Hide!

  The dragon spun about, and its long, spiked tail, ten feet wide at the tip and covered in black spikes, whistled through the air, coming right at her.

  Kargin smashed into her, slamming her to the concrete and lying atop her a moment before the tail swept past. He pulled her to her feet and thrust her before him. "You're either brave or stupid, Lizbeth-Chambers, but we're gonna need you yet. Run!"

  There was a loud whoosh followed by another bright flash. A comet thudded into the dragon's head and burst into flame and black smoke, leaving a charred scorch mark on the side of its head and shattering one of its twisted horns. Someone had hit it with another rocket.

  Kargin pulled Elizabeth behind the charred remains of a warehouse's concrete base. The more the dragon became enraged and thrashed, the more ash it kicked up, providing cover for the soldiers.

  Channel the air around it, she flashed to Cassie and Leela. Blind it. She channeled gusts of air, sending ash swirling about the dragon. At the same time, she felt the much weaker weave of Cassie and the surprisingly strong weave from Leela. The air became thick with ash.

  Red tracers cut through the gloom as Swamp Thing fired a long burst from his LMG. Not far away, huddled behind a pile of rubble, she saw Huck frantically speaking into her radio. Crouched next to Huck was Helena, her SCAR clutched against her chest.

  Another rocket streaked past, a smaller one, likely one of the M-72 LAW tubes. But the flash of its firing lit up the soldier holding the tube on his sh
oulder. The missile exploded against the scaled underside of the dragon, but the beast swung its head about and breathed a torrent of bright-blue fire where the soldier had been standing, incinerating him and melting the asphalt for a dozen paces around him. Even from a hundred feet away, the intense heat forced Elizabeth to cower, her panic once again welling.

  "Concentrate fire on its head!" screamed Alex. "Aim for the eyes."

  Scores of bullets cracked overhead, now striking the dragon's head. It must have been a never-ending stream of stinging bites, because she saw the beast whip about again, screaming in rage as it sought the source of the gunfire. She hid behind the concrete shell, watching the battle. Several of the tracer rounds hit the dragon's scaled neck. The incendiary charges kept burning, leaving bright-red fires that scorched its hide. Another rocket struck the dragon in the flank. It turned toward the source of the rocket and belched out another stream of blue fire, this time sweeping the flames in an arc. The gunfire lessened. Her blood ran cold. More of her friends had just died.

  While I hid.

  Just like I hid when Clara died.

  Something snapped within her, and she rose, sending a bright blue-white bolt of lightning that ruptured one of the dragon's black eyes, sending flesh and blood spraying. Incensed, the dragon scrambled toward her. But as it moved, it kicked up a vast dark cloud of ash that obscured her, and she bolted, sprinting away. The dragon crashed against the concrete where she had been hiding, shattering it. She fell, rolling forward, dropping her SCAR. In the gloom, only the massive dragon remained visible, but once again, it was becoming harder to breathe, and Elizabeth gasped, rolling along the scorched ground to get away from the madly thrashing dragon. She found her footing again and staggered away.

  The gunfire started up again, less intense this time. More tracers left burning embers in the dragon's flesh. She caught a quick glimpse of Sharon fumbling with her SCAR, desperation on her face as she tried to clear a jam. The dragon roared an ear-shattering staccato of bestial rage. It's going to use its fire breath again, Elizabeth realized. We can't hide; it'll just burn everything around us. She needed to keep its attention fixated on her.