Banshee Screams

by Clay Griffith

  "That's your tactical evaluation, is it, Captain? Are you forgetting that these Rangers are from Temptation, a town that we occupied? Are you forgetting that we took citizens from their town and ate them? Are you forgetting that we embarrassed them in their own home? Do you not think they have ample reason to hate us?"

  "Perhaps so, sir. But remember, even so, if this Asai clan is as antihu-man as your Skinny claims, we certainly don't have to worry about the Rangers joining in the fight. I'd say they're probably dead at the hands of the anouks by now." De Klerk smiled. "Attempting to rescue their colleague from Castle Rock was a fool's errand of mercy. But that's something the Rangers specialize in."

  Quantrill eyed the Captain as he contemplated his words. "Find Tekkeng and bring him here." Just as he finished the sentence, Quantrill saw the cadaverish face of the Skinny drift out of the shadows behind Captain De Klerk. The captain turned with a startled jerk and stepped out of the Skinny's way.

  Quantrill asked, "Tekkeng, how will Martool react to the Colonial Rangers who flew into Castle Rock? Will she welcome them? Or kill them?"

  Tekkeng twisted his head from side to side in thought. The gray-eyed, bedraggled shaman spoke the Skinny's words. "She will not kill them. She is cunning and will try to use any resource available in a futile attempt to save herself from our overwhelming power."

  Quantrill flashed a quick reproach at De Klerk who glared angrily at the Skinny. The General stepped onto the ground outside the Stallion. "Are there other Skinnies inside Castle Rock?"

  "No." Tekkeng backed away, preserving a distance from Quantrill, as if disdainful of the undead human and his stench. The "interpreter," however, just stood and continued talking even though he wasn't looking at Quantrill. "They banished us. Martool is jealous of the Skinnies and our rightful power over the people."

  "Do you think she knows you're here with me?"

  "Yes. She can sense me. She fears me."

  "Is Martool more powerful than you?" Quantrill wasn't always sure where to direct his eyes when talking with the pale creature, at Tekkeng or his mouthpiece.

  Tekkeng paused. For a brief second, his pallor of servitude seemed to wash off and he stared hard at Quantrill. But then he quickly recovered and turned his eyes to the ground. "No."

  "Do you think that if I killed Martool, it would break the will of her clan to resist me?"

  Tekkeng's eyes almost gleamed as the shaman quickly said, "Yes, indeed so. Castle Rock will crumble without Martool. She is the only thing holding the false Asai clan together." Tekkeng touched his scabrous fingertips together in expectation. "Do you have a plan to kill her?"

  Quantrill sneered. "I have a plan to kill everybody. Including you."

  Tekkeng quivered almost as if he was laughing.

  Quantrill quickly turned to De Klerk to cover his discomfort at the Skinny's cavalier reaction to his threat. "Captain, have ready your SpecOp infiltrators. They can acquire Martool's brainwaves and we can assassinate her with the TSARs." Quantrill's eyes narrowed with tactical delight at the thought. He would repeat the successful action that had won him Czimizir so easily. He had only three SpecOp infiltrators, but that would be sufficient to catch the unsuspecting anouk witch.

  Captain De Klerk attempted to clear his throat, but only got a grotesque bubbling noise. "Very good, sir."

  The General shifted his gaze back to Tekkeng and waved his hand dismissively at the Skinny. "Go. I'll call you again when I need you."

  Tekkeng regarded Quantrill with a severe stare, but turned and glided away with his mouthpiece stumbling behind. Once among the dark arroyos far from Quantrill's camp, the Skinny paused among the barren rocks and smiled in his own vicious way. He would accept the undead human's scornful treatment for now because he needed the sykers. They were a useful distraction to keep Martool off balance. When the time was right, Tekkeng would strike her and she would die. Then, as soon as the work was done, the Skinny intended to destroy Quantrill and his army. And then Avernus too. Once Martool was dead they were superfluous to Tekkeng, as well as dangerous. Quantrill's old Syker Legion had fought the anouks and Skinnies to a standstill many years ago. This new, undead Legion threatened to make itself into an even greater threat. Better they were wiped off the face of the planet before they became too powerful.

  It was exciting for Tekkeng to be so close to his life's goal. Plus, he sensed another presence in the canyon that delighted him. He had gotten a whiff of it just the other day. It was the female Colonial Ranger who had escaped him in New Hope. It was in this Ranger's mind he learned of Martool's secret base. However, she shot him with one of the black guns that Quantrill was so concerned about. And Quantrill had every reason to be alarmed; these black guns, in the proper hands, were startlingly powerful weapons. Tekkeng had promised himself that, after he destroyed Martool, he would find this female Ranger and flay her mind in a most exquisitely horrible way. And now both of his targets were in the same place, locked together inside Castle Rock.

  Tekkeng allowed his mind to wander through the canyon. He felt the revenant horror that emanated from the rocks lapping all around him. This land was bathed in blood and trauma, and he drank it in. This was his land.

  Tekkeng never thought Martool would return here, but it did make sense in her perverted logic. Unlike the rest of her kind whose goal was to obliterate the humans, her goal was to cleanse the planet. So, in fact, where better to begin than its most polluted spot? If Martool succeeded in her mad plan, she would destroy Tekkeng's kind. And that the Skinny simply couldn't allow.

  The Skinny stared up at the sprawling complex of Castle Rock on the canyon face high above. Torchlights flickered along the many miles of tannis walls. The power he felt surging from the walls of Castle Rock was enormous. Martool was as much a warlord as her mother Kreech had been, and twice the witch in the bargain.

  Despite Martool's magic, Tekkeng intended to enter the fortress and slaughter her with his own hands. He could already taste her fear, and soon he would make a banquet out of it.

  Ross sat on the floor of the dark, tannis room. He stared straight ahead, shifting his legs, and clenching and unclenching his hands. He removed his hat and rubbed his head with a grimace. He exhaled in pain. He had suffered constant headaches since breaking free of Quantrill. As he fidgeted in the corner, it was clear he was eager to be out of the room and back to the fight.

  Debbi stood next to Hallow. The syker was resting on his stone bed. His movements were tentative and weak, but his eyes were strong and sure. He was wrapped in a heavy barka rug to ward off frequent chills. He sipped at spoonfuls of light broth that Debbi held for him.

  Martool paced the center of the room. Her purple skin was a mass of shadows as she moved through the flickering torchlight.

  Martool said, "Hallow is well enough to travel. It is safe for you to go."

  "We're not goin' anywhere," Ross growled.

  Martool looked at him. "If you do not go now, you may not be able to escape later. Your vehicles almost didn't make it in through the Legion's attacks, am I right? And they will soon have us completely surrounded. Then you will have no air routes free of their control. At this time, I can help provide cover for your vehicles. But soon, I may not."

  Hallow said to Debbi in a weak whisper, "Between Martool's power and mine, we should be able to get the Stallions back out through the psychic flak. I was strong enough to contact Captain Ross and tell him that you were in danger. I'm nearly recovered."

  "I'm not leaving," Ross repeated. "I flew in here to make sure Dallas was alive and to kill Quantrill. One down. One to go."

  Martool argued, "This is not your fight."

  "Wrong."

  Martool replied in a slightly louder voice, "You must leave. I won't have your blood on my hands."

  Ross rubbed his forehead. "You're not listening to me. I said I'm staying till Quantrill is dead. And I don't give a damn what you get on your hands."

  The shaman regarded the Ranger captain with an intensity
that frightened Debbi. Martool's voice was still deceptively calm. "This is not your land, pale one. If I say you go, you go."

  Ross slowly raised his cold eyes and stared at Martool with a chilling stillness. Martool countered his glare without moving. Debbi and Hallow glanced at each other. The silence stretched on uncomfortably.

  Debbi set down the broth and the clack of the bowl against the rock was like a gunshot in the silence. She spoke up to break the tension. "Martool, isn't there some way we can combine efforts? The Colonial Rangers have a stake in stopping Quantrill too. If we work together, we have a better chance of defeating him."

  Martool turned to Debbi and her demeanor softened. "I don't think my people will allow it. You have to understand, a leader can only take their people where they want to go."

  Debbi said, "You know as well as we do that we have to hold the line here. The Legion has to be stopped. Now. By all of us. You have the numbers. We have the weapons."

  Martool considered Debbi's words despite obvious doubts.

  Debbi continued, "Just give us a chance to prove ourselves to your people."

  "I'm not sure," Martool said quietly. "My people see you and Quantrill as the same. He is a human."

  Ross smiled a dark, sinister smile that Debbi had never seen before. "No. He ain't even close."

  Debbi said to Martool, "The Legion would eat any of us in this room. That gives the Asai and the Rangers something very important and very disgusting in common. If being at the same spot on the food chain isn't enough to pull us together, I don't know what is. Somebody has to be the first to take a chance. We're willing."

  Martool hung her head in thought. The crackling sound of the torches filled the room.

  Finally, she gestured to the wall and a door opened. Fareel stepped in.

  Martool said something to him in anouk. Ross stood up immediately and moved to the door with a Hellrazor over his shoulder, as if he understood her words. Martool was surprised.

  She then said to Debbi, "Your Rangers will be allowed in the sun gate precinct. You will defend the wall there, under the eyes of Sahrin and Fareel. They will supervise your activities and see to your needs."

  Ross was already at the door and staring up at grim Fareel. "C'mon, Stretch. Let's go to work." He slipped into the corridor.

  Fareel watched the gritty Ranger go, looking from Ross to Martool and back with confusion. Martool signaled for the warrior to follow. Fareel left and the door closed behind him.

  "I didn't know Captain Ross understood our language," Martool said, as if accusing Debbi of purposefully keeping her uninformed.

  Debbi answered, "He knows a couple of dialects."

  Martool glanced at the young Ranger. "But still, he's no diplomat, is he?"

  "No. He's not."

  "It's a shame." Martool laid a soft hand on Debbi's arm, conveying a sense of commiseration. "When you wish to return to the other Rangers, think of me and I will send Sahrin for you." She departed swiftly.

  Debbi stared at the blank tannis wall, trying to comprehend. Then she turned to Hallow. He was asleep and breathing peacefully, swaddled in the furry blanket. She smiled with relief at the sight of the resting syker. She tucked the blanket around his shoulders. At least one of her charges was on the road to recovery.

  Chapter 19

  Ross's face was pale, his eyes only dark shadows. They blazed with determination, but also a hatred that Debbi had never seen in him.

  "Still have a headache?" It was an innocent enough topic to broach with a man who looked eager to kill.

  He shook his head, but the lie was evident. The corners of his eyes were creased tightly, his lips only a thin line as he intently watched the rocky terrain beyond the wall.

  Debbi sighed and leaned on the wall. After all Ross had been through, he still hadn't talked about it. That was Ross, though, stoic through it all. Admit nothing and it never happened. But Debbi knew the truth from personal experience. The trauma wasn't going to fade away. The memories, the sense of violation would never leave him — not even after Quantrill was dead and buried yet again.

  Ross was driving himself too hard. It had been several days since Martool had granted the Rangers control of the sun gate and Ross had been going nonstop all along. Here he was back atop the wall on watch barely an hour after returning from a raid on a small Legion outpost. His clothes were covered in dried flecks of black gore from slaughtered zombies. He rarely moved from this place atop the wall except to lead bloody attacks on Legion patrols or study aerial photos of enemy positions that he ordered taken from Stallions. He had tried to confer with Martool several times, but she refused to see him. There was little coordination between the Rangers and the rest of the clan war effort. It was clear that Martool had only given the Rangers a job to keep them quiet and out of the way.

  "I'll finish this watch," Debbi offered without looking at Ross. "Why don't you get some rest? You haven't slept more than ten minutes since you've been here."

  "I'll rest when I'm tired," Ross retorted. "Why don't you check on the other watch posts down the line?" He shifted the Hellrazor in the crook of his right arm and reached up over his left shoulder for a reassuring touch of the butt of the scattergun that he wore in a snap sheath outside his black duster.

  "All right." Dejected, Debbi straightened off the wall, but she still didn't depart. She knew she wouldn't get him to budge. They'd had this same discussion numerous times. Although Ross slept little in the best of times, he usually didn't look like he was on the verge of death.

  The Colonial Rangers had made camp in the sun gate courtyard. They had two Stallions surrounded by three camp tents set up a few yards from the base of the wall, as far as possible from the small anouk cemetery whose mere presence left all the humans unnerved.

  The squat alien tombstones were actually the tops of tannis coffins. They were scattered haphazardly, some broken and shattered. It was traditional for the anouks to bury their dead vertically. Whole families for many generations were lined up one over the other in a line straight down into the dirt or tannis rock below. The coffin of the last to die protruded several feet above the ground to serve as the family marker till the next passed away. Then, amazingly, the whole column of deceased was dropped lower into the ground and the newest departed was placed on top to take on the honor. The anouks' control over the very rocks of Banshee was remarkable.

  The courtyard was not nearly as crowded now as it had been days ago. Many of the anouks in this precinct had moved deeper into the city. There were still females and children around. They particularly tended the barka pens. The young anouk male who received the algae bar from Fareel liked to linger closer to the Rangers, until the warriors would shout at him and call him back to their side of the courtyard. The anouks whom the Rangers saw most of the time, however, were warriors assigned to watch them. Sahrin and Fareel led that group. These warriors fought from the battlements just like the Rangers, crowding the parapets and firing into attacking Legionnaires with rifles and ataxes. But even while the Rangers and the anouks shared the duties of defending the walls, they kept their distance. The anouks did not accompany the Rangers when the humans went outside the walls on the attack.

  Sallies against Legion patrols were becoming more dangerous. Ross's attacks outside the walls amounted to little more than a bloody nose for the Legion. Quantrill's noose was tightening around Castle Rock. All major roads were cut and even most trails were too hazardous to attempt. Undead squads were coming closer to the wall every day. There were even rumors of several attacks by anouks on anouks inside the walls, clearly the result of syker manipulation.

  Ross didn't know how the war effort was going in other parts of Castle Rock, but here at the sun gate it was poorly coordinated. Fareel's warriors were restive and the Ranger commander sensed their pent up desire to go out and fight with the Rangers. He heard them talking and understood their grumblings. They craved to be in the action, particularly the tall, fierce Fareel. But a warrior like Fareel wo
uld never approach Ross, and Ross wasn't yet ready to openly defy Martool's authority by subverting her troops. The time might come, however, when Ross would turn to the war chiefs like Fareel. If Martool wouldn't pursue this war in an aggressive manner, Ross would. He intended to make sure Quantrill never left this canyon alive.

  "Debbi," sounded a strained voice behind her.

  Ross started and then grew annoyed that Debbi was still with him on the ramparts. Hadn't he ordered her elsewhere? Debbi was shocked to see Hallow limping toward her up the stair-step of the great wall. The syker sweated profusely. He was clearly in great pain. She vaulted down several steps and took the injured man's arm.

  "What are you doing out here?" Debbi asked. "You're not well."

  "I'm fine. Just sore."

  Without turning, Ross said, "I sent for him. We need to understand the Legion better. What can you tell me?"

  "First of all, their power level is enormous." Hallow leaned heavily on the top of the wall. His breath wheezed in and out with a sickly, hollow hiss.

  Neither the Ranger nor the syker looked at each other, both watching instead the darkening canyonscape. Hallow reached out with his senses and detected small, distant groups of Legionnaires moving in and out of crevices, creeping into positions closer to the wall.

  "They're more powerful than when they were alive?" Ross asked. "How's that possible?"

  "I don't know how any of this is possible. But to answer your question, no. Individually, they are nowhere near as powerful as when they were alive. But now they are somehow linked together in a psychic mesh. And that was impossible when they were alive."

  "Why?"

  "Because sykers are peculiar people, Captain Ross. They, above all others, understand the sanctity of the mind and they don't like others inside theirs."

  The muscles of Ross's jaw line quivered. He couldn't stomach pious comments about how sykers cherished the sanctity of the mind. The Ranger captain glanced at Debbi who stood on the other side of Hallow. She maintained a steady visage, urging him to stay quiet. Ross just shook his head with a sarcastic snort.