by Jody Wallace
White light leaped from her hand, less painfully this time. The beam cut a swath through the darkness, nowhere close to the daemons.
“Voids bedamned.” Nikola’s voice crackled through the earbud. “If they reach us, you may want to pray.” He shot a daemon three times in a row, and it faltered, losing ground.
She had no rosaries, no priest, no time to settle her spirit, but she sent up a prayer anyway. Her Lord had involved her in this crisis, had kept her alive this long, and she had to believe He knew what He was doing.
“Please help us,” she prayed. “I’ve been helping myself all this time, but I can’t do it without You.”
She aimed. Held her breath.
Her next blast struck true. It hit the daemon in the chest. A shot from Nikolas followed.
The daemon’s head flew off. Both body and head plummeted to the ground far below.
Nikolas didn’t even compliment her. The first daemon was close enough to smell. Nikolas shot; it swerved. Adelita screamed.
The wonder drugs couldn’t stop her from doing that.
She heard a metallic whir. Moonlight glinted on Nikolas’s blade. He dove forward and met the daemon head-on.
They crashed in midair with her dangling helplessly below. The daemon’s clawed feet were almost within striking range. If that claw cut through her harness, she’d be dead before she’d even get a chance to set off the bomb.
“It’s too close to us,” she yelled.
If the daemon beat Nikolas, she was dead then, too.
She had to do something. What? She was bobbing around several feet beneath them like a baby in a bouncy swing. Nikolas and the daemon snarled and growled; she couldn’t tell which was which. Blood splattered down, glancing off her invisible shield. It looked red. Human.
Did Nikolas have a shield or had the daemon gotten through it?
His laser hissed. His sword struck something that made the metal sing out. She couldn’t see much beyond kicking legs, jumbled bodies. The daemon squealed. Its feet scrabbled, trying to disembowel Nikolas. It slashed perilously close to her lifeline.
Nikolas had said the mesh and shield would help against daemons, but he hadn’t said they were impervious. They sure as hell wouldn’t allow her to survive a fall from two thousand feet.
Trembling, swiveling, praying, Adelita aimed up, hopefully toward the daemon instead of Nikolas. The moonlight helped. Red flashed. Nikolas hadn’t been wearing anything red.
Fire.
The laser sliced the daemon in two. Gouts of ichor splashed down, and part of the body struck her extended arm as it fell.
Something inside that arm screamed with agony, and it wasn’t because of the laser fire.
“Dammit.” Her hand went numb, but not numb enough to erase the pain. “My arm is broken.”
“You nearly shot me. Again.” Nikolas stared down at her, and his halo pulsed. She could see blood on his cheek. “Your wrist is sprained. Suck it up. We’re not through yet.”
“Feels broken.” She worked her fingers, pain stabbing with each movement. “How did anything get through the shield and hurt me?”
“The shield is calibrated for someone tougher than you,” he said, “and I didn’t have time to adjust it. It won’t fend everything off, but it should help with laser fire, claws, temperature extremes, poison gases, things like that.”
“How about shades?”
“They’re composed of interdimensional matter. Can’t shield against that, or your involvement would be unnecessary.”
“You should work on that.”
Nikolas, in response, winged ahead and down. She closed her eyes to ward off vertigo. They careered toward the earth like a diving hawk. Her stomach lurched, and she muttered another prayer. Behind them, far behind them, the sun glimmered pink and red on the horizon. Pink and red like the promise of a new day.
She was seeing the sun rise.
Seeing dots, too. Dots against the sunrise. Or one dot. She couldn’t tell. Adrenaline made her jitter like too much coffee.
They passed through a cloud bank and everything went misty. The stench of entities hit her like a physical blow. She yelped.
“By the Mother, would you stop screaming?” Nikolas jerked onto a level flight path, and she whipped around behind him. “I’ve never known anyone to scream as much as you do.”
Out of pure annoyance, she screamed again. Louder.
“They do have ears,” Nikolas snarled through her comm. “Shut up.”
She did. Glancing down, she caught glimpses of a fast-passing landscape, rubble, heaps of concrete and buildings and metal. They must be near San Francisco, which had been blown to smithereens by several militaries in an attempt to stem the horde.
Nikolas had said the munitions she carried, a lightweight, silvery square, wouldn’t destroy Terra’s physical geography. Wouldn’t tear up the ground or blow a volcanic hole in the earth. But it would eliminate all life in its radius.
She was a dead woman. The trick was making sure she died at the right time.
…
They zoomed past the nexus too quickly for Adelita to see much besides black. With the sun not fully risen, to her eyes it seemed that a thousand shades roiled below, clustered around the spot where she had to plant the bomb. Nikolas couldn’t graze the actual kill zone or they might sense him. In fact, he couldn’t be sure where the kill zone started, so he flew a wide berth around it.
She glimpsed what might have been begetter drones, massive eggs of evil, but it could also have been piles of buildings.
The missiles sent by Earth militaries hadn’t necessarily reached their destination. Nearly all had detonated in the outlying areas, their guidance systems redirected by the protective field around the nexus Nikolas and Gregori said the begetters created. The destruction here, in the shade zone that extended several miles outside the kill zone, was due to fighter jets. It was less severe than the outlying areas. She should be able to clamber her way to the nexus.
“Hmm. It’s better than it could be,” Nikolas said through the earbud, his voice bland. “You shouldn’t have any problems.”
“Liar.” Adelita’s hands felt as cold as ice. Her heart felt colder. Her sense of hope felt coldest of all. There was no way she could torch as many entities as she’d seen. They’d blanketed the ground like an oil slick.
“Not a liar. An optimist,” he said with a laugh.
He lowered her to a pile of rubble, and she scrambled for footing. Thick metal wires and girders stuck through the concrete. Shattered glass and pale dust coated the whole mess. He unhooked her harness before he landed, and the straps fell on her head.
“Hey, watch it.” She fought her way out of the tangle and shimmied out of the contraption. The baggy mesh armor was hers to keep, but he said he needed the harness.
She inspected her companion. She had no injuries beyond the sprained wrist, but his face boasted an unhealed cut, and his shiny black shirt had a number of tears through which she could see bloody flesh. They’d killed more daemons on the way in. Their ichor, as well as some of Nikolas’s blood, dripped off her armor and dotted the ground.
The ichor hissed when it hit. As she stared, it etched tiny holes in the slab of concrete.
“Will there be more daemons?” she asked.
“Don’t know.” His halo brightened, casting shadows on the bottom half of his angular face. “What I do know is, the longer I remain with you, the more likely we are to attract them.”
Her single life force, he’d said, wouldn’t excite the horde enough to interest many daemons. Two sentients close to the nexus would, since her people’s efforts—and his and Gregori’s—had starved them.
“What will you do?” When she ignored the rapid thud of her own heartbeat, she could hear the faint hiss of entities on the breeze. Every fiber of her being, every instinct she had, shouted at her to flee their wrongness and their scent. But that was the direction she had to make herself go.
“Pick off any daemons I find on the outskirts.
”
“That’s it?”
“They’re your biggest threat.” He smoothed one of the rips in his shirt, and it sealed itself. “You can move faster than the shades.”
“Not if there’s nowhere to run.”
“I know it looks bad.” His wings spread halfway, as though he was about to take off, but he remained on the slab, watching her. “I’m going to lure some of the horde away, but what I’m doing is…untested.”
Adelita listened to the hissing. The constant, ominous hissing. He wasn’t telling her everything. “What if your test doesn’t work?”
“Then your lasers will.” With swift movements, he gathered the straps he’d used to carry her and bundled them into a compact wad. “If a shade touches you, you have several seconds to break away. It may feel like you’re dying, but you’re not. If you’re still conscious, you have a chance.”
She swallowed, her mouth dry. “There were so many shades.”
“Shoot them all and keep shooting until you get there. They’re not as hard to kill as daemons.” He circled an arm in a demonstration. “Use a sweeping motion on blockades. Torch them like you’re using a flamethrower, and run it as hot as you can stand it. You don’t have to preserve your batteries.”
“I won’t outlive the batteries,” she guessed.
Nikolas, who seemed uncomfortable with her bluntness, glanced in the direction of the nexus. “Be careful. The lasers are powerful. Don’t bring a building down on your head.”
She remembered the explosion she’d caused from midair and shuddered. “Wouldn’t want that.”
The hissing increased. “They’ve sensed us. The nexus is a quarter of a mile that way. This road leads straight there. I have to go.”
“Wait. What if I can’t do this?” No wonder drug could keep the tears out of her eyes right now, and she dashed them away. “Stay with me until I’m closer. You can shoot from the air. The shades can’t reach you there.”
Gregori would have stood by her. He’d never have left her; they’d have found a way to function as a team, despite the risks. He’d have protected her, and she’d have protected him. But she hadn’t given him the option, for fear he wouldn’t give her the option. Now here she was, being deserted, left alone to handle the impossible.
He shook his head. “I told you already. If I stay, they’ll summon more daemons.”
Wild desperation rose inside her, and she muttered another prayer under her breath. It didn’t help. “You can’t be sure of that.”
“I am.” The bleakness of his expression was a story unto itself. His lips tightened as he studied her. “I’m sorry. You can talk to me through the comm, remember? I’ll give you advice.”
“It’s not enough.” Tears leaked out of her eyes. She was trying so hard to be strong. She wanted nothing more than to collapse right here and let the monsters take her. Well, she wanted something more; she wanted to not be here. But she knew what it would cost everyone if she failed.
Were souls eaten by the entities welcome in heaven? What about the soul of a woman who’d come this close to saving the world and chickened out?
“Don’t do that. Don’t cry.” Nikolas’s chest heaved. He took three, four, halting steps, until she could see his throat work. He swallowed. “Don’t concern yourself with me. It only matters what you’re going to do. I will do everything I can to help you from a distance, but I have other…responsibilities.”
“What responsibilities take precedence over saving billions of people?” A surge of anger helped her overcome the debilitating fear. “Do you have to hightail it out of the solar system with all the stolen ladies while you leave us to rot?”
“Not right this minute.” His jaw firmed, and his boot scuffed the concrete.
“Then what?”
His expression twisted. “There isn’t enough time in the world to explain.”
“There’s not much time in the world, period.” She jabbed a finger in the opposite direction. “Go. Go take care of whatever is more important than an entire planet.”
His mouth opened as if he wanted to respond. Instead he took the last two steps toward her and gripped her shoulder. She tensed when his face softened. “You’ve got this.”
She breathed in and out as smoothly as she could. “You’re just saying that.”
“No.” He drew up her mesh hood, covering her head, tightening it around her neck. His finger brushed her cheek and lingered. “I understand what Gregori sees in you. You have a vitality inside you that’s hard to ignore.”
She kind of hated Nikolas, but what the hell? She was about to die. “If you’re about to kiss me, make it fast.”
“I’m not, I’m not.” He stepped back, hands up. “Keep running. Keep shooting. Keep fighting.”
“I’ll do what I can,” she said, echoing him. “It’s a good thing I don’t have other responsibilities.”
She didn’t speak further. As soon as she gave him one last “eat shit” glare, she skidded down the tilted slab and picked her way across the rubble toward the half-clear road that led directly to her grave.
…
His sensors picked up life forms. Human life forms, several of them. Surrounded by entities. Gregori flew faster, so fast his shield couldn’t keep the wind from ripping at him and screaming in his ears. Near San Francisco, in the sector that had been decimated by Terran munitions, he found them.
Eleven women kitted out in tactanium body armor and armbands were positioned on a high, defensible structure that had mostly survived the bombardment. He didn’t recognize any of them as fellow Shipborn, despite their accoutrements. Most were busy picking off clumps of shades on the ground, and he could distinguish the black blotch of a larger mass of shades approaching.
A few of the women watched him fly toward them. One pointed her fist at him as if she expected him to start shooting and planned to shoot back. He back-flapped near the tower, reluctant to appear aggressive. They seemed to have sufficient laser power and strategic positioning to hold off the entities for the time being, but who were they?
Whoever they were, there was only one reason they would be this close to the nexus, dressed in Shipborn gear and killing shades. They were in league with Nikolas. As such, they probably knew what he had planned.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
The tall, dark-skinned woman who’d aimed her laser at him marched forward. Scratches marred her breastplate, which looked like the style of breastplate Nikolas favored. Its long, segmented flaps covered her to the knees.
“Gregori, I presume?” she said, her voice deep for a woman. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Screw that.” The combat adrenaline had long since eradicated all vestiges of the sedative from his system. “Where’s Adelita?”
She exchanged a look with another woman before turning back to him. “Don’t be stupid, alien. Let her do what she has to do and keep your fine ass out of it.”
Gregori winged closer to the tower. The women all looked tense, some more frightened than others. This many sentients this close to the nexus…they might be stemming the tide of shades now, but it wasn’t safe for them if they had no wings to fly away. He activated the DNA sensors in his array and scanned them at a molecular level.
What the…? Every one of the women was Terran.
And every one of them was pregnant.
He landed with a thump. “Who the hell are you?”
The tall woman smiled, her teeth white and somewhat sharp. “The backup plan.”
Nikolas had involved pregnant Terran women in a dangerous scheme, when all he’d needed to do was work with Gregori? What in the void’s name was wrong with the man? Had he lost his sanity?
“You people can’t be here.” Instincts warred inside Gregori. One set told him to get these unenhanced women away from the shades and daemons, out of the blast radius of the munitions Nikolas had presumably obtained for Adelita. The other set of instincts told him to find his lover as soon as possible.
> She couldn’t do this alone. Without him. It should be him taking the risk.
The women apparently sensed his concerns. Several paused their assault and stood beside their spokes in a barricade of determination and silver armbands. Their clothing was tattered, and their bodies had scorch marks and wounds, but none seemed grievously injured, according to his scan.
“Get outta here,” one said. She had a painful, red brand on one cheek that looked suspiciously like an ichor burn. “We know what we signed up for.” To prove her point she aimed at some shades far below and disintegrated them.
“No, you don’t. You can’t.” Mother bedamned! Eleven pregnant civilians. He couldn’t abandon them. “Not all entities are as easy to destroy as shades.”
“Look down there.” The black woman pointed toward the base of the tower. “Now tell us we don’t know what we’re doing.”
Gregori let his gaze drop. Several stories below, red-skinned bodies, or pieces of them, littered the ground. Dead daemons. “You killed those?”
She flashed her armbands at him and laughed. “These aren’t for show, Blondie.”
Another woman, whose belly rounded in a more obvious pregnancy, wore what looked like a sensor array on her head. It lit up suddenly, and she frowned. “They’ve run into more daemons.”
“Dammit,” the tall woman cursed. “I knew it. We needed two fliers. He should have implanted me with the fucking wings. I should have made him do it, the fucking pussy-ass son of a bitch sexist motherfucker.”
“Must you, Claire?” the heavily pregnant woman asked. “I thought you’d agreed to quit talking ugly. It’s not good for the babies.”
Claire turned to Gregori, her face hardening. “Look, alien. If you want to save Niko’s fool self, he’s running into more daemons than he and my sister Tracy can handle. We need them to divert the horde from your girlfriend and get us the hell off this platform. After you fix that, you can check on Adelita. Just make sure she arms that bomb, and don’t sacrifice yourself in the process.”
Gregori balanced on the balls of his feet, uncertain. The hiss of the approaching horde made it hard to concentrate.
“The feeler group is almost in range,” he heard someone say. “I hope we can do this.”