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

by Elliott Kay

  “Whoa, sorry, that was me! Only me,” said Gina. She faced a black, smoking mark on the rock wall with the blaster over her right wrist. The thin wires looped around her fingers with the control pad nestled in her palm. It didn’t fit perfectly, but she’d obviously gotten it to work. “I think I’m figuring this thing out.”

  “Can you show us how to work the other one?” asked Nigel.

  “I’m not sure yet. It’s weird. This thing has a kind of a kick to it. For all I know, I’m about to blow my own arm off.”

  “Then let’s not do that,” said Naomi.

  “We don’t have time. Anyone outside probably heard it,” said Tanner. Gina nodded in agreement. “Okay. Every second counts. Solanke, can you fly those transports?”

  “The Vanguards? Barely,” he admitted.

  “I can do it,” said Gina.

  “Then that’s the plan. If they’re wrecked, we move for the wheels. Do not give up,” Tanner said, looking from one face to the next. “If one thing doesn’t work, you move onto the next. You understand? If you have to run across the desert, you stick together and you do not give up. You don’t have a choice. Got it? Let’s go!”

  He took the lead. He knew he had to, despite the urge to watch the rear. Though he feared pursuit from behind more than an ambush ahead, someone had to keep the group moving. He didn’t even have one of the shields. He left those to students who could probably get better value out of the protection. At least Tanner knew how to move in combat.

  Bodies still lay strewn across the camp. Tents and vehicles stood as they’d been left. He saw no black armor. No robots made of stone. Nothing moved. It was such a stroke of luck Tanner immediately thought it must be a trap. He scanned his surroundings, taking care to look to the ridge.

  The class couldn’t afford a slow and careful approach. They had to move. Pausing only long enough to take in the scene, Tanner hit the steps to the platform right as Antonio came up with the shield to run beside him. The rest followed at a full run.

  They cleared the distance between the doorway and the edge of the camp without a problem. Still no enemies. Still no explosions. The skies were blotted out with clouds from the volcano. Though the air in the canyon smelled of smoke and ash, it wasn’t tough to breathe—yet.

  “Go, go, c’mon, go!” Solanke urged the others. He tugged Olivia along by the arm, refusing to let her lag behind. For all his bluster and coarse manner, he was an infantryman. The culture had its virtues.

  He wasn’t alone. Though undoubtedly the fastest and fittest runner, Antonio fell back within the group, urging everyone to keep up the pace. In particular, he seemed intent on making sure Vandenberg kept up. The professor put one foot in front of the other. If he breathed harder than the rest, at least he kept going. Only Gina sprinted up ahead with Tanner. She had the most important job of all.

  “Do I need a security code or anything?” she called to Solanke.

  “No! We don’t do full shutdowns in the field,” the mercenary answered. Like Tanner, he watched their surroundings with growing confusion. “This is crazy. I think they might’ve left.”

  “Solanke, did anyone carry solid-state firearms?” asked Tanner. “Anything’s better than lasers.”

  “I know, I know,” Solanke agreed. He was already breaking off toward a couple of bodies. “Some did. Sidearms, mostly. Have to look.”

  Tanner stopped at the first body, ignoring the laser rifle beside it for a look at the dead man’s sidearm. It turned out to be another laser. He forgot it, but tore the pair of grenades from the mercenary’s belt. Better than nothing.

  The delay gave his companions a chance to pass him by. Most kept running. Back beyond the fleeing students, nothing moved at the door. He looked to the ridge: again, nothing.

  “Tanner,” Naomi huffed. She pointed to the research tent.

  “Yeah,” he said. The same thought had grown louder in the back of his mind as he assessed their surroundings. “Only what you can pick up and run with.”

  “Right. Antonio,” she called. “You’re fastest. C’mon.”

  The tall young man glanced to the professor beside him. Though exhausted, Vandenberg nodded wearily and kept his pace toward the Vanguard. Antonio broke off to follow Naomi. He dumped the Minoan shield outside the entrance to the tent.

  Tanner rushed to the next body. Little remained of the upper torso but smoldering flesh, making for a gruesome chore that felt a little worse as he recognized Stockton’s face. Though the task wasn’t pleasant, he found a Diamondback on a broken sling underneath the body. The cut-down carbine had likely been a back-up weapon. Its owner didn’t think to use it before it was too late. A two second evaluation revealed no damage. The spare magazines attached to Stockton’s hip had survived, too. Each held at least a hundred caseless rounds.

  Solanke had a rifle now. Gina climbed into the cockpit of the Vanguard, with other students climbing in through the side doors. Tanner had a useful weapon. They still had their head start. Their chances improved.

  A scream of pain turned it all around. Solanke collapsed in the dirt with a solid black spear in his leg. Yellow blasts of energy struck the ground inches from Tanner, throwing up a rush of heated soil in his face.

  He rolled away, getting his bearings in time to see a pair of black-armored Minoans drop out of the sky over the Vanguard. They seemed to leap all the way from the ridge above. One crouched on the Vanguard’s nose, looking straight through the cockpit windshield. The other dropped down amid the students climbing inside the open side door, slamming Olivia to the ground. Though the transport’s door gun sat right there ready for use, no one in reach knew how to operate it.

  More blasts came from above. Tanner kept moving. The Minoans had left a guard section behind after all. Maybe they only needed a chance to get into place.

  Though on his back and in pain, Solanke fired back. “God damn it, they’re on the ridge!” he shouted. His assault rifle threw out one rapid burst after another meant more for suppressing enemy fire than taking anyone down.

  At the Vanguard, the Minoan by the cargo door bashed Vandenberg away with her shield. She reached inside for someone else. Then the door to the cockpit flew open. Gina reached out with her right hand clenched in a fist. The Minoan blaster wrapped around her forearm let out a bright yellow flash, cutting through her target’s armor in an even brighter burst of overheated metal. The Minoan woman went down with a smoking hole in her side.

  The other enemy on the nose of the Vanguard rolled off, landing on his feet with his shield up to face Gina. Unable to warn her, Tanner gave up his constant evasive rolling and running to bring the Diamondback up for a desperate shot. He flicked the weapon to semi-auto for better control. It was the only pause he could afford. Tanner pulled the trigger three times in quick succession.

  Sparks flew from two bullets bouncing against the Minoan’s armor. The warrior jerked away wildly, staggering out in front of the Vanguard’s nose. He dropped to one knee, planting the bottom edge of his shield in the ground to arrest his fall.

  Soil and smoke erupted all around Tanner as fire came in from above. It all made another targeted shot difficult. He risked it anyway, but the shield proved an effective defense for the Minoan.

  The shield didn’t save him from closer threats. Twin barrels under the nose of the Vanguard turned their full forty-five degrees to point right at the warrior barely out of arm’s reach. Neither the Minoan nor Tanner had realized Gina was back in the pilot’s seat until the sudden barrage of dual light laser cannon fire tore through the Minoan.

  Tanner kept going, wary of the enemies up above. Targeted shooting against them would be almost impossible. All of the lights in the canyon were pointed downward or horizontally at best. The enemy on the ridge wore black, effectively becoming silhouettes against darkness. Only the flash of their weapons gave away their positions. There couldn’t be more than a handful, all on one side—unless the rest were still moving in on the other side of the canyon.

>   He’d never find out if he got tagged by one of those weapons first. Though his trainers hated the mere notion of spraying and praying, Tanner saw no better option. He flicked his weapon to fully automatic and let it rip. Dirt and rocks burst from the ridge as each bullet struck, adding to the difficulties for the Minoans.

  The ambush should’ve been over almost as quickly as it had begun. Instead, they were still fighting. The first few seconds of survival let him see the enemy’s limits. Their blasters packed a lot of power, but they didn’t seem to offer the accuracy of human firearms, nor did they cycle anywhere near as fast. The Minoans inhabited entirely new bodies, too; how closely did they match their former prowess?

  Tanner kept moving. He kept shooting. They had hope. If he could keep the focus on himself, the others might get to safety. Gina could turn the Vanguard to their advantage. At the very least, he could give Solanke a chance to move. The mercenary had the spear out of his leg now. He could only limp away, bleeding badly, but he was moving. He was also an easy target.

  Everyone else was at the Vanguard already except Solanke, Tanner, and the two back at the research lab. Naomi and Antonio emerged, each with a duffel bag over their shoulders. Antonio retrieved the discarded Minoan shield on the ground. He got it up in time to absorb a shot from their attackers, but more rained down around them. Their chances looked slim. They didn’t know how to move in combat.

  As best Tanner could guess, four or five shooters held the ridge. Like most of his firefights, it somehow all happened too fast and felt like an eternity. He knew it had only been a few seconds. The enemy would adjust. Tanner ran in stops and starts, weaving erratically. The blasters needed at least a few seconds to cycle. He waited for the next shots to come his way, hoping he’d survive them. The gamble paid off.

  Flashes coming straight for him played tricks on his eyes. The beams shooting at Naomi and Antonio flew at a different angle. They were easier to track. With a second to aim, he unloaded the rest of his magazine on their attacker. More sparks erupted at the top of the ridge, followed by a black-clad figure tumbling down into the canyon.

  Tanner rushed for the nearest shelter. The enemy knew he was the real threat now. He needed to reload. The shelters wouldn’t likely stop the enemy’s weapons, but they might offer a little concealment. If he held the enemy’s attention, the others could move.

  Two blasts from above reduced the shelter to a burning wreck before he reached it. “Okay, new plan,” he huffed, scrambling away. He dropped the magazine from the Diamondback and slammed the new one home, looking for another option.

  More yellow blasts flew in, lighting up the air around him. This time they flew horizontally. He looked back to the great door to find more Minoan troops streaming out.

  He was out of time for being cute. He was out of time for anything. Tanner sprayed the ridge with another burst and ran like hell. “Well Dad, you wanted me to go to college!” he shouted. “Here I fucking am! Having a great time!”

  Sudden red flashes of laser fire added to the chaos. The Vanguard’s door gun lit up the night, firing wildly into the ridge. Armored or not, the shooters on high broke under the pressure. As soon as the fire from the ridge ended, the doorgunner’s wrath turned on the pursuers emerging from the shelter.

  Tanner caught up to Solanke to take one arm over his shoulders, helping him limp along. “I thought that was you up there on the gun,” he grunted.

  “Yeah, I wish it was me!” Solanke complained.

  Dust and ash swirled around as the thrusters roared to life. Antonio piled in after Naomi. With only a few meters to go, Tanner recognized the doorgunner as the stream of red lasers shifted back up toward the ridge.

  Kim looked tiny behind the gun. She didn’t seem like she had much control over it, either. Tanner didn’t care. As long as she didn’t shoot him or Solanke, she could annihilate the whole canyon and he’d cheer her on.

  Solanke had different ideas. “Move,” he ordered, waving his hand at Kim. “Move, I’ll take over on that thing.”

  “You’re bleeding all over the place,” Tanner warned.

  “Then I’ll bleed out the side,” said Solanke.

  “Get in! Get the hell in!” shouted Naomi. She and the others tugged Solanke inside without a shred of grace.

  Tanner piled in after them. The Vanguard lurched up in the air, pulling more than one startled yelp from its passengers. Internal gravity and dampeners hadn’t kicked in yet, but at least the open door no longer faced the field of fire.

  Clambering over his classmates, Tanner squeezed through the tiny opening between the passenger compartment and the cockpit. He practically fell into the copilot’s seat.

  “Is everyone secure?” Gina shouted. Tanner didn’t answer. He reached for the controls. Everything he wanted would be easy to find on a vehicle like this.

  “I don’t need a copilot,” snapped Gina. “Can we go?”

  “Yes!” Tanner flicked off the safeties and targeting system before jabbing his fingers into the ordnance controls. Missiles burst from pods on the Vanguard’s wings. With computer control declined and safeties denied, the weapons flew wildly. One exploded not far from the nose of the transport, plunging the canyon into flames with a deafening boom. The other streaked out along the canyon, crossing the distance to the far end in the blink of an eye and detonating in virtually the same instant.

  “Now we can go,” said Tanner.

  Gina brought the Vanguard into the air, lifting straight up and slightly backward over the ridge. Despite the smoke from the missiles, the destruction of the camp was obvious enough. Neither of them were surprised to see the great doorway still standing, though now bodies in black armor littered the ground.

  Enemy fire continued from the ridge as they gained altitude. Solanke fired back from the door gun, doing more damage to their aim than to their bodies. The danger receded as soon as Gina hit the thrusters.

  “Where the hell are we going, anyway?” she asked. “Do we head for Anchorside? I’m pretty sure things are shitty for them right now, too.”

  He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket, punching the coordinates written upon it into the navigational program. “We’re going here. It’s close to the city, but hopefully it’s far enough onto the outskirts we won’t fly straight into a warzone.”

  “What’s here?” Gina asked. The map zeroed in on the location. “A shuttle repair yard?”

  “It’s a way off this rock. I made arrangements with the insurgency when they showed me the raid video. Hopefully they’re still good for it.”

  “That’s your second ‘hopefully,’” she noted. “But it’s better than anything up my sleeve.”

  “You sure?”

  “I didn’t plan on leaving with anyone else if I had to cut and run.”

  “Gotcha. I gotta go take care of Solanke’s leg.” Tanner crawled halfway out of the cockpit, then stopped. “Who sent you to watch me?”

  “Vanessa. Okay, technically it was our boss. She’s not exactly in a management role. But when you score the kind of wins she has, they listen.”

  “Is there anyone else on Minos?”

  “If there’s anyone here, I don’t know ‘em. I had one job, and that was to keep an eye on you.” Gina shook her head. “Vanessa told me it could get crazy. I didn’t expect this shit.”

  “People blew up my house a week before finals.”

  “Hey, they didn’t give me a security team. I’m only supposed to keep an eye on you.” She flashed him a rueful grin. “You’re my first real field assignment.”

  “Real?”

  “Since I got field status, yeah. I helped Vanessa steal a starship once before I signed up, though. Real big one. We almost met that time, too,” Gina’s smile grew wider as understanding spread across Tanner’s face. “Small world, huh?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five:

  Very Important People

  “Almost all aspects of human biology and society are adaptations. Each aspect developed to meet some
need. Understanding this is vital in dealing with an alien species. Do not fall into the trap of rushing to judgment when faced with alien behavior. Their interests and priorities arise out of a vastly different frame of reference. What may seem inexplicable or foolish to us can be a tried and true adaptation for them.”

  --Union Fleet Basic Relations Manual (Officer’s Edition), August 2280

  “We’re all assembled or accounted for. One—”

  “Or?” Lieutenant Torres interrupted.

  “Private de Soto went to sick call. He’s not back.” Alicia glanced down the passageway. First Platoon milled about in full dress uniforms, all of them slick and spotless and having absolutely nothing to do. All except de Soto. Even if the docs cut him loose now, he’d have to get cleaned up and spiffy like everyone else. “Doesn’t sound like he’ll make it in time.”

  “We’re going to have uneven ranks in formation?” the lieutenant grunted. He looked as sharp as the rest. On top of the uniform, he had natural good looks going for him.

  “Yes,” said Alicia.

  “So we’re almost perfect.”

  She pressed her lips together. It was the last thing anyone should care about.

  “Did you pass through the squad bays this morning?”

  “Yep. They’re in order.”

  “Inspection ready?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Alicia didn’t flinch when he glanced at her again, but she caught something negative there. She bit back the urge to add a “sir” to her statement. They weren’t in a public conversation, even if only separated from the others by a couple meters of empty space. These talks were supposed to be collegial. Academy status or not, she was effectively an officer. The ‘effectively’ mattered. Everyone said so.

  “Almost, but not quite, then. Inventory is up to date? Armory?”

  “Yes, and yes.” Her brow furrowed. “Are we expecting a full unit inspection today? I thought it was only formation in the hangar bay.”

  “It’s only formation until one of the visiting dignitaries gets bored and someone comes up with more to do,” said Torres. “How does the admin docket look?”