Last Man Out (Poor Man's Fight Book 5)

by Elliott Kay

  Solanke took on the remaining sentinel, tackling the tall and armored woman from the side. Most of his classmates scrambled to get out of the way. Naomi even had to grab a couple of the others to snap them out of their shock. The Regent turned on the class, terrifying Tanner with the thought of the entire class being wiped out with a single blast of that laser.

  One second gave him the edge in an attack. Another second showed him how he’d lost it all. His classmates. Naomi. Even Antonio who’d helped him in the last fight, and Gina…except she wasn’t with the class.

  Gina appeared behind Tanner’s opponent as he and the sentinel both rose. She grabbed the sentinel’s helmet and twisting it hard on his head, leaving him blinded by his own armor.

  Having dropped his shield, the Sentinel swept the helmet off in a single move. He freed his vision in time to hold Tanner off with a kick, but he wasn’t ready for Gina’s follow-up. A laser-heated knife plunged through his neck from behind. His life ended with a sickly hiss.

  Tanner didn’t question the presence of Gina’s knife. He only recognized a downed enemy and the greater danger of the next. The Regent’s head turned all the way around on its shoulders, looking backward at Tanner now that it had a majority of the class against the wall. The red glow in the stone man’s face surged.

  “Move!” Tanner screamed at Gina. She leaped away while he tugged the shield over himself. He remembered to tuck his legs in before the blast hit. Despite the resilience of the sentinels’ shields against lasers, the Regent threatened to overwhelm his protection before its weapon cut out. His barrier radiated intense heat. Two seconds felt like an eternity as the metal turned red and began to crack, but then it was over.

  Wanting to draw the danger away from others, Tanner dropped the shield and flung himself backward in a sloppy somersault. The Regent pursued, turning away entirely from the class. Off to one side, Solanke continued to struggle with the last sentinel. Antonio came to his aid to keep her weapon arm isolated. It was enough to allow Solanke to wrench off her helmet and start pounding. She appeared strong enough to overpower either man, but not both.

  Tanner had a plan for dealing with the Regent when he started this. His only problem was everything else about the fight, from positions to the other opponents to the comical power differential between himself and the Regent.

  He could still do this. He only needed to get around the thing before that laser in its face fired up again. And if he could move it a few meters over. And if he hadn’t completely underestimated its strength and its speed and everything else about it.

  Someone swept in behind the Regent. Perhaps inspired by Gina’s example, Naomi leaped up with both feet to throw the coat over the Regent’s head. She hung from the sleeves to maintain control. Tanner took advantage of its blindness to dart around the side of his opponent before the Regent tore the garment from Naomi’s hands, leaving her on her back.

  His position brought him closer to the guardrail. He didn’t like it, but every other spot put others in greater danger. The move was necessary, anyway. If the Regent couldn’t blast him, it had to take him down in close combat—or so he hoped. A second blast still hadn’t come. He didn’t know the thing’s energy payload, or how long it would take to recharge. He could only learn by doing. So far, he was still alive. That was something.

  The Regent moved faster than he’d hoped, though he’d fought faster opponents. He ducked and dodged a pair of powerful fists that came at him. Its posture and reach revealed the drawback of those strange, backward knees. It leaned farther into each forward swing. Those legs worked even harder to compensate and keep balance than his.

  “Tanner, what the fuck are you trying to do?” shouted Gina.

  His ass bumped against the guardrail. The Regent closed in, swatting downward. He twisted to avoid it. The construct caught him on the backswing and knocked him aside. He also realized the thing had put a crunch in the rail.

  Fighting the pain in his ribs, Tanner slammed his foot down hard into the Regent’s knee. Thankfully, his opponent buckled, if only a little. Sweeping around behind the stone man, Tanner resigned himself to this one shot at his plan, now with his side hurting and his lack of breath. He could black out any second. It was now or never.

  Tanner dropped to his back and slammed both feet up into his enemy’s hip. He pushed with all his might, braced against the floor. The Regent leaned backward dangerously over the ledge under his assault. Tanner shouted with the effort.

  He wasn’t alone. He heard footsteps behind him, felt a rush of air past his head, and saw one of his classmates sail up over him. Antonio leaped into the air to plant both feet against the Regent’s chest. He bounced off, nearly falling on top of Tanner, but he’d delivered the jump kick of his life. The Regent tumbled head over feet out of view.

  Tanner rolled off his shoulders in a rush. Solanke stood over the remaining sentinel. The mercenary looked a little rough, but the sentinel wasn’t moving at all. Blood pooled around her head on the stone floor.

  “You idiot!” snapped Vandenberg. “What good do you think this does? You may have killed us all!”

  “We’re not dead yet,” Tanner wheezed. He caught Antonio’s eye. “Hey. Good job. You saved everyone.”

  “Like you didn’t?”

  Tanner waved it off. “It’s a way bigger deal the first couple times.”

  Gina ignored the exchange. “You didn’t even have a weapon.”

  “Yeah, I did.” He gestured to the ledge. “I had gravity. And where the hell did you get that?” he asked, pointing to her knife.

  “Oh, for the—down!” Gina snapped.

  Tanner threw himself to the floor. A bright yellow streak of light flew over him, vanishing as soon as he registered it. He saw the source right away: Doram was up on his knees. His helmet was gone, revealing the gore of his eye socket. The sentinel drew down on Tanner again with his fist closed and the weapon on his wrist charging for another shot.

  The blast never came. With Tanner as a distraction, Gina took full advantage of Doram’s restricted vision to close the distance. She cut through half of his neck before he knew she was there. Doram choked, his good eye wide with shock, and fell lifelessly to the deck.

  Mindful not to make the same mistake twice, Tanner swept the field with a quick search for more threats. The sentinel Gina had helped defeat lay dead. Solanke’s opponent didn’t look like she’d be getting up soon, if ever. The Regent was still gone.

  Naomi and Antonio were up. Everyone else in the class looked okay. Several seemed to have the same instinct as Tanner, checking one another for injury and looking for danger. Out of habit, Tanner made a quick headcount, came up with one too many, and remembered Solanke wasn’t part of the class. Then he turned his breathless expression back to Gina. He pointed to her weapon. “What the hell? Where did you get that?”

  “I’ve had it.”

  “You didn’t use it?”

  “It was hidden in my boot! I had to dig it out.”

  “What about the fucking pirates?”

  “You think I keep it in a carry-on? We were gonna be inspected. I buried it in my luggage.”

  “In your—?” He knew how hard it was to hide weapons on a ship. He also knew how expensive a weapon like that could be. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Gina.” She rolled her eyes at his scowl. “Okay, I’m also with Archangel Intelligence.”

  His shoulders sagged. Of course. “I don’t even have time to be mad.”

  “We don’t have time for anything,” snapped Naomi. “They could have more guards on us any second. What the hell are we gonna do now?”

  Tanner took up the jar of crystal memories. “We run like hell.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four:

  School’s Out

  “I don’t care if it’s dirty and I don’t care if it’s ugly. There’s no such thing as a fair fight. You fight for real and you fight to win and to hell with anything else, because you do not know what’s gonna happen if
you lose.”

  --Gunnery Sergeant Michelle Janeka, June 2274

  The sentinels could not leave their posts to investigate. Crashes, shouts, and the loud crack of a Regent’s wrath had echoed down the vast corridor, only to fall back now into silence. Standing at the penultimate door to the surface, Hartel and Veldoss held firm behind their shields, ready for the danger to come their way.

  “Show yourselves!” demanded Hartel. His weapon was charged and ready on his wrist.

  Only the silence answered. No call from a superior dispelled the danger. No runner came to explain. “How long has it been?” asked Veldoss. “A minute? Two?”

  “We should call the nexus,” said Hartel.

  “You think they didn’t hear? Or see? They can see throughout the sanctuary.”

  “They haven’t called us,” Hartel pointed out. “If it is nothing, they won’t bother. If there’s a danger, we have to warn them. What if they are too busy with the attack to watch the sanctuary?”

  “Then can you imagine how She will deal with it?”

  “As long as She does not deal with us.” Hartel pointed to the controls beside the door. “Call.”

  Veldoss thought about asking why Hartel couldn’t do it himself, but relented without a fuss. Both sentinels wanted to know what was going on. Hartel made a good point about not letting it become their fault, whatever it was. Veldoss moved to the controls, shifting sideways step by step without ever turning his shield or his eyes away from the tunnel.

  He stopped short as something flew out of the tunnel up ahead. He couldn’t identify it at first, knowing only that he’d seen movement and heard something hit the walls with a crack. The sound repeated itself a couple more times as the object clattered to the floor and then roll around in the shadows.

  “What the hell, Tanner? Where’d you learn to throw?” hissed a voice from around the bend.

  “Basic training,” grumbled another voice.

  “Basic what?”

  “Hey, I can throw a knife and I can throw a grenade,” snapped the second voice.

  “This isn’t a knife or a grenade! It’s like a baseball.”

  “My sports fundamentals suck, okay? We didn’t play a lot of catch when I was a kid.”

  “Oh my god, are you serious?”

  “Man, I don’t even know how you can kick a soccer ball in the direction you want it to go.”

  “Show yourselves!” bellowed Hartel.

  “Hold up,” called back the second voice. Then he hissed, “Fine, you do it.”

  Shadows moved at the bend in the tunnel. A flying object bounced off the wall to the other side before coming to the floor like the other one, but this ball rolled much closer. The sentinels gasped as they recognized the crystal memory at their feet—and the cracks it now bore. “Stop!” shouted Veldoss. “This is insanity! What are you doing?”

  “We’re leaving,” came a firm reply. Veldoss thought it might be the second voice again. “You’re in the way. Drop the shields and the weapons and put your hands up.”

  “You’re the invaders Doram captured?” Veldoss realized. “We do not take orders from you! Show yourselves or be destroyed!”

  Another memory flew out from behind the bend, striking high along the opposite wall and bouncing around like the first. “Stop!” Veldoss ordered again.

  “Listen, asshole: I’ve got a hammer and a whole jar full of ancient alien brains. If you want me to hand them over you will do as I say, otherwise you will find pieces of your ancestors smashed all over this floor. You can have the brains or you can have your prisoners. You don’t get both. Make a choice and make it now. I don’t have time to negotiate.”

  The sentinels glanced to one another warily. Hartel warned, “You will suffer grievously for this—” A sharp crack of shattering crystal cut off the rest of his threat. “Stop! Do not harm them. What do you want of us?”

  “Weapons, shields, and helmets on the floor. Throw them toward me. Do it now.”

  Though tense and unenthused, the sentinels obeyed. The blasters came off their wrists easily enough, held fast by a simple clasp and triggered by thin cables to their fingers. “And the other ones,” the voice demanded. Grimacing, Hartel and Veldoss drew the collapsible spears from their belts. Those went down the hallway, too. Hartel’s extended on its own after an unlucky bump along the floor.

  “Show us the vessel,” Hartel demanded.

  “Both of you face the wall. Get on your knees. Cross one foot over the other and put your hands behind your head. You can look and see the jar when you’re done.”

  Again, the sentinels obeyed. They only saw the invader by looking to their side as he emerged. He didn’t look like much. Apart from identifying him as male, the only thing about him that stood out was his deeply tanned skin. That, and the vessel of memories in his hands.

  He wasn’t alone. Others rushed out with him. Several picked up the discarded weapons and shields. To Veltoss’s disappointment, the one who picked up his spear was careful enough to avoid extending it and hurting herself. Though they stayed clear of the two sentinels, the humans were quick to rush toward the door.

  “How do we open this?” asked one of the other humans—female, darker than the rest, now carrying the collapsed spear.

  “You will leave us with the vessel and its contents?” demanded Veltoss.

  “We don’t really need them.”

  “How do we know this is not treachery? How do we know the remaining memories are still intact?” The tan one produced a memory sphere, holding it out for view. Though he sneered, Veltoss relented. “Touch the top three controls on the wall with your fingers.”

  “How many guards are beyond this point?” asked the tan one.

  “Enough. You will never escape.”

  “Cool. Is the last door still open?”

  Veltoss blinked. “What? No. It is sealed and guarded by twelve sentinels.”

  “Open it up,” the tan one instructed one of the others.

  “You think they’re lying about the guards?” asked the darker woman.

  “Doesn’t matter,” said the one with the spear. “If there are guards, we fight.”

  “Ask them how to use these weapons,” suggested another.

  “No time,” said the tan one. “We know how to open the door. Let’s move.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, one of the others activated the door. It slid open slowly given its great size, but within only a breath or two there was room for the invaders to slip through one at a time. The one with the spear went first. It seemed the one with the vessel would go last.

  Hartel considered his options. Though they were at a disadvantage in this awkward position, it would take only a second to turn around and get on their feet again. The human couldn’t take both of them down together. He wasn’t even armed. At a glance to his partner, Hartel confirmed Veltoss thought all the same things.

  Then the vessel slammed into the back of his skull, knocking his forehead into the wall.

  Veltoss blurted out an objection, moving to rise, but he only lined himself up to catch the vessel with his face. He collapsed under a crunching sound across his nose and stars in his eyes.

  “A deal’s a deal, I guess,” grunted Tanner. He dropped the heavy jar onto the guard’s lap and fled through the open door. Naomi waited at the controls on the opposite side. She tried only a couple of combinations to reverse the motion of the door before she gave up on it and took off running. Tanner kept pace with her.

  “I figured you would keep the jar,” she huffed.

  “I really hate the hostage tactics,” he said. “Makes me feel like an asshole.”

  “Hey, the two memories you threw down the hall were cracked when we found ‘em.”

  “Yeah, but the others weren’t.”

  “Would you have smashed those, too? Or were you bluffing?”

  “I would’ve if it did any good.” He answered her surprise with a shrug. “The problem with bluffing is sometimes your blu
ff gets called.”

  They didn’t have to run far before catching up with the others. The great door was in sight. To their relief, the door remained open, with light from the dig site spilling inside. They couldn’t make out much of the camp from here, but nothing suggested any further damage since they were abducted. Nor did they see any more guards. The only motion came from white-gray flakes of ash and tiny orange embers drifting through the air.

  The chance for freedom kept the group moving this far despite fear and fatigue. With escape in sight, everyone had the sense to regroup and gather their wits.

  “We’re almost out of here,” said Naomi. “Are we all okay?” Looking around the group, everyone was still standing. Vandenberg leaned over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He wasn’t the only one worn down by the exertion, but he nodded in answer to her question. Everyone else seemed fine so far. Most were already looking to the next step.

  “Something has to be up. Nobody leaves a spot like this unsecured,” noted Solanke.

  “They’re aliens, right?” Kim pointed out. “Different values, different thinking. Maybe they don’t see it the way we do. And something is up. They’re attacking the cities.”

  “Nah, no way. It’s not like that. Covering your base is basic. Leaving your rear open to attack is a bad idea. It’s like asking to be bitten in the ass. I don’t care what planet you’re from.”

  “They only have so many troops,” said Tanner. “Sometimes the bad guys make mistakes, too. You take what you can and you—shit!” He jumped back at the flash of a Minoan blaster, shocked at how close it went off. Thankfully, the wielder turned out to be far friendlier than he expected.