by Auryn Hadley
On the hill above, Sal moved, a cruel smile playing on her lips. That's for my brother, she thought.
She opened the valve again. The jakentron was an amazing weapon, but reloading it was slow and cumbersome. She listened to the man scream while the gun filled and she relocated, unwilling to make two shots from the same perch. Halfway around the next hill, the hissing stopped, and Sal grabbed another dart, loaded it, then crawled toward the ridge. A large evergreen tree offered her a perfect vantage point.
Her first victim was nearly dead, twitching and frothing in the street. A second man crept toward him, trying to hurry, but unwilling to rush into the open. Sal waited. He reached the dead man and glanced around quickly before bending to check for a pulse. She exhaled and pulled the trigger. The needle hit and her prey stood, trying to rush back toward the larger house. He didn't make it to the edge of the street before he, too, screamed and writhed.
She moved again, wondering how many she could pick off like this before they'd change tactics. Circling back toward her mare, she hurried, trying to visualize the layout of the town from the backside of the rolling hills. When the second man stopped screaming, she looked for cover.
This time there wasn't much. A single jagged tree stump was the only thing breaking the ridgeline. The smaller house lay directly below her, the larger just to her right but further back. The two dead men lay framed between someone's home and what looked to be a store. She couldn't be sure of her prey's approach from this angle, so she forced herself to breathe slowly and listen. In the house below, voices murmured quietly, unaware she was able to hear them.
"Robson! Looks like they sent a rescue party. They're darting us as we cross the street!"
"That means they have snipers in the hills. Take two and come up behind them. If they're watching the cross roads, they won't be watching their backs."
"What about the damned scrubbers, Sergeant?"
"Four of you stay here. Fucking beasts are known to be unpredictable."
"Gotcha. You two, with me."
The back door to the house beneath her opened, and Sal pressed herself into the ground. The Terran gestured and two men darted off, circling her, moving as silently as she would expect of an elite soldier. She began to pull away from the hill when movement caught her eye. A third man made an attempt to rescue his companions. Sal aimed quickly and pulled the trigger, then crawled backward from the ridge.
Gaining her feet, she ran to her mare, disassembling the gun as she went, storing it in the leather bag. Arden barely flicked an ear at her return, grabbing greedily at the grass while Sal shoved the jakentron into a saddle bag and gathered her reins. Mounted, she pulled the horse away from the cluster of trees, putting distance between her and Yager's Crossing.
Her mind worked furiously while she made her way to another secluded grove. She had assassins stalking her. They would assume she was working with a partner, which would make them more cautious. She preferred to think of it as timid. They'd be looking for well-armed soldiers, gaps in armor, and properly placed snipers. What they wouldn't expect was her. Twining Arden's reins around the mare's neck, Sal stripped her armor, thankful for the warm weather. She hung the swords on her saddle, stored her gear, then removed her clothing, as well. All she needed was her steel blade. Her ceramic dagger, the double bladed staff, and the two weapon belts she tossed over her shoulder. Then, tucking her clothing under her arm, she moved back toward the small town, leaving her mare protected by distance.
Naked, Sal shifted her skin to match the land around her and rushed forward, moving from cover to cover, heading toward the back of that small farm house. The sweet scent of her prey led on her on, but she wouldn't be foolish. In the shadows under some scrub bushes, she hid her supplies and the long staff, then moved again. Reaching a large tree, she pressed into the trunk, changing her skin to match. On the other side, a breath gave away her enemy.
Sal waited for the man to take just one more step.
He moved around the tree and she pounced. Her steel blade pierced the resin across his chest, the other sliced at his sword arm while her teeth closed on his throat. Sweet, hot blood rushed into her mouth when she pulled back and the soldier died with a wet sound. The bloodlust hit her, erasing her fears and replacing them with a desire for more while sharpening every sense she had. Sal could feel the edges of the grass under her feet and the gentle breeze lifting her hair away from her back, but most of all, she could smell men. There were two more and she wanted to watch them bleed.
She licked the blood from her lips, and moved.
Chapter 48
She skirted the trees, keeping the last two men in sight. They were intent on the ridgeline, scanning each bush for signs of her passage, unaware that she wasn't the prey, but the predator. The smaller of the two shoved his sword into a shrub quickly, glancing over at the other when it encountered nothing more than branches. The larger man glared and held his finger to his lips, his other hand gesturing in signals only the Black Widows knew.
They split up. The smaller man moved to the right, and Sal paced him quietly from the shadows. Keeping well back, she used the terrain to her advantage. When the scent of the other no longer filled her nose, she made her move. Her skin colored like grass, she crawled toward him, pausing each time he stopped. Like a cat stalking a mouse, she crept ever closer, her knives pressed close to the ground, their blades hidden in the weeds. She flicked her ear back the way she'd come, checking to be sure they were truly alone, and then she struck.
Rushing forward, Sal covered the distance in four strides. At the sound of running feet, the man turned. She snarled when she swung. The steel blade dove deep into his chest and the ceramic sliced at his face, cutting his mouth open. He tried to scream, but Sal shoved her hand over his mouth, muffling the sound.
"Just fucking die already," she snarled, yanking the steel blade out, just to shove it back in. This time she hit his heart.
With a strangled gasp, he lay still. Her ears flicked again, and she moved.
Sal circled back, breathing deeply. She wondered if the last man realized why the army put so much emphasis on hygiene. The pungent scent of stale sweat and moldy cloth lead her right to him. He stared at the ground beneath the large evergreen tree she'd used for cover. Bending lower, he touched the dirt, a scuff in the leaves the only sign of her time there.
"So, they teach you how to track?" she asked.
He jumped like a startled mouse, spinning in place. Sal stood before him, naked, her skin its true white. She flipped the steel dagger in her hand and smiled. His eyes widened at the sight of her teeth.
"Yeah," he said, leaning against the tree, glancing across the ridgeline before looking back at her. "Terric gives us some pretty good training. You?"
She smiled. "I hear about twice as well as you and I can smell you a kilometer away." She scratched at the tip of her ear with the point of the blade, taunting him. "So, you kill my brothers yet?"
He shrugged. "Dunno. The one's pretty bad off. Guess they don't sedate so well. We know you beasts have tricks, though, and it all links back to him. Arctic, I think is his call sign?"
Sal nodded. "Yeah. What about the other?"
"He's being good. Gave us some intel so we wouldn't kill his friend. Only problem is that I'm not real sure how your partner is gonna sneak in there. We got ‘em covered."
She laughed. "Yeah, see, that's the thing. The 'good' one? That's my partner. You kinda got it all wrong. It isn't that we work in pairs, it's that we never work alone. Kinda thought the Widows would know about being able to count to three, though."
He stiffened ever so slightly, and she nodded.
"I got three out there in the street. Got your two friends as well." She leaned slowly toward him. "And you just served your purpose. You'll make another third."
"Come get me, bitch," he said, pulling the sword at his back.
She laughed and flipped the steel blade again. "I'm a fucking animal, you shit, not an idiot."
"Scream," she told him. "It worked well enough last time."
"Fuck you." He spat in her face.
"Fine, then I will. My brothers need to know I'm coming."
Sal shoved the dagger deeper, resting her hand on it to hold herself above his body. He clenched his teeth against the cry that wanted to break free and Sal lifted her right hand, the steel dagger twice the length of the ceramic one lodged in his body. She pinned her ears close and yelled a primal roar, then shoved the steel into his chest. He gasped and writhed. Sal moaned softly, watching him die.
Just six more, and four of them would be in the small house below. She jogged back to her weapons stash and dug beneath the shrub for her gear. Arden was too far away for her to retrieve her armor, but Sal hoped she wouldn't need it. She got dressed, buckled on the belts, shoved her daggers into empty sheaths, and grabbed the resin staff. Her mind inspected the layout of the town as she made her way back to the last man's body. From this vantage, she could see every building. Below her, an old shed and a barn sat alone. It wasn't likely that the Black Widows would be taking shelter in such open buildings, so she slipped over the edge.
The drop was steep. She used the staff for balance when she made the staggering run down the slope. When she reached the bottom, she ducked behind the shed, seeking any hint of the Terrans. Silence greeted her.
She wanted to be nowhere near the bodies of her prey. That was the first place to look for the enemy. With one last flick of her ears, she darted to the next building, moving further from the small house that would be her final destination. The shadows against the walls made her black uniform the perfect cover, and unlike the Terrans, she had no need to move slowly. Sal darted, ducked, and ran from hiding place to hiding place until she pressed herself again the back wall of the large house that the first man had been so intent on. The scent of humans oozed from it.
She slunk around the edge, looking for an opening, and paused at a small window into the cellar. The glare of sunlight on the glass made it impossible for her to see through it, and she didn't dare risk pushing her face closer. She carefully leaned down, but jumped back when a small face looked back at her.
The boy smiled. Sal raised her finger to her lips, and he nodded, then twisted at the latch. She heard it click, and grabbed her knife harder when the kid pushed it open.
"They're upstairs," he whispered. "You're one of the good guys, right? Terrans don't like iliri much."
"Yeah, kid," Sal said softly. "I'm a Black Blade. I need to get in there."
"K. It's a good drop though," he warned, before jumping back to the floor.
Sal listened intently. With the scent of humans so strong, she knew there were more than just Terrans here. She'd never smell the scent of their weapons over this many bodies, but she had no other option. She stuck her head through the opening and looked around. The eyes of children were all that met her.
Wedging herself through the small window, she grabbed the sill and eased herself to the ground, pulling her weapons in behind her. Six kids watched her, wide eyed, an older boy glancing across her body.
"Don't think it," she warned him.
He shook his head. "Just wondering how you're going to get us out without armor."
"Don't need armor unless you plan to get hit. Now, I need to be briefed." She looked between the kids.
"What's that mean?" a young girl asked.
"Means she needs to know what is going on," the teen said. "There was a squad of them. Like ten or twelve came in yesterday. They locked us up in here, our parents are upstairs. I'm pretty sure they separated the women and are using that to keep the men in line. They got a couple of prisoners a few houses over, too."
Sal nodded. "Yeah. That's why I'm here. How many were upstairs, say, an hour ago?"
"Like five?"
"Four," the young boy said. "There was four there earlier, when Ma brought down lunch."
"Ok. Then there's only two up there now. Makes this easier." She looked at the older boy, "You ever dream of being a soldier?"
He smiled shyly and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."
"Then I'm gonna need your help. For this to work, I need the rest of you to do exactly what I say, ok?" Sal glanced around the room, making her plans quickly. "I need someone to play the victim. All you have to do is scream and cry like you're hurt. One of you willing to do that?"
"I can," a girl, maybe ten, offered.
"Ok. Make it loud, and make it seem like you just cut your hand off or something." She turned to the younger boy. "You're going to have to stand in front of her, like you're helping. Make sure they can't see that she's ok."
"Got it!" he said, beaming.
"Now this is the part I need to be sure I can trust you with. You have to stay in that corner." Sal pointed at the one spot in the room where the stairs wouldn't be visible. "No matter what happens, I need you to stay there, and not move. I have to have room to work. If you get in my way, it could get us all killed. Ok?"
The five youngest nodded seriously. Sal hoped she'd scared them enough for them to obey. The older boy watched her, his nervousness showing.
"What am I supposed to do, ma'am?"
Sal smiled at him kindly, keeping her teeth hidden. "It's sir, and you need to pound on the door, to get someone to open it." Confused, he nodded, and Sal pulled him away from the younger kids. Glancing back to be sure they couldn't hear, she leaned closer and whispered, "It's not fair of me to ask you to do this, but I think you're the only one that can take it, ok?"
"You gonna kill them?"
"Yeah. You'll probably see it, too."
He gulped. "Ok."
"All you need to do is bang on the door and run back down the stairs, telling them the girl is hurt. Close your eyes or don't, that's your call. I just need them to see you when the door opens – and not me. Ok?"
"Yeah. I've never seen a dead man before."
"I know. This stairwell is probably going to get really messy. Keep the younger ones down there. They don't need to see it,"
"K. And thanks," he said, smiling weakly at her.
"For what?"
"For trusting me not to flip out."
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Thirteen."
"Then I'll see ya in the ranks in about five years. Deal?"
"Thank you, sir," he said, standing straighter.
"We ready?" she asked the kids.
"Soon as you are," the precocious girl answered.
"Yeah." The teen nodded.
"K, when he's in the stairwell, give it all you got."
Sal grabbed the teen's arm and pulled him close. "I can move faster than them. I will not let you get caught in the middle of this. As long as you trust me, you'll be fine."
"Yeah."
"Then let's do this."
Together, they moved into the stairwell and made their way up to the door. With each step, Sal pressed against the wall, until she became little more than a shadow behind the door, the resin staff tucked close to her body. Behind them, the girl put on a convincing performance.
Sal nodded, and the boy pounded. "Lona's hurt!" he yelled. "She's hurt bad, cut herself and won't stop bleeding! Please! We need some help down here!"
He glanced back. Sal smiled at him proudly, then tilted her head at the door, asking him to do it again.
He did. Pounding, his voice growing more and more worried, he yelled and begged for help while Lona screamed like only a young girl could. Her ear splitting shrieks caused movement upstairs and Sal could hear the voices of adults each time she gasped for air. Finally, the lock clicked and the knob slowly turned.
When the door opened, Sal was invisible behind it. The teen looked at someone and begged, "She's hurt bad, she cut herself on an old lantern. We tried to stop it, b
ut she's still bleeding. You gotta do something, mister!" Then he turned and darted halfway down the stairs. "Please?" he begged.
"Fucking kids," the man grumbled and pushed the door further open. "Fine!"
He never even checked behind him when he trotted two paces down the staircase. The teen glanced back, and Sal pointed down the stairs. The boy's eyes widened slightly and he looked away as Sal swung. The lower blade of the staff hacked at the Terran's waist and blood splattered the narrow space when she followed with a backhanded slice at his neck. The man spun in place at the force of the blows and crumpled as Sal speared the end of the blade through the door.
"Don't look back," she told the kid, "just keep them down there."
He nodded and ran to be with his friends. Sal rushed in the opposite direction, shoving through the door and into the chest of the second soldier.
The impact knocked the staff away, and both of her hands moved to her waist for knifes to fill them. Her right moved faster. She buried that blade in his back, the one in her left hitting his chest, while her leg swept out to knock him from his feet. When his body hit the floor, she finally stopped growling.
Shocked gasps were the first thanks she got, followed by fearful stares.
"There's a group of kids down in the cellar, and blood in the stairwell." She glared at the humans. "I'm pretty sure an elite soldier is the last thing any of you need to worry about."
"Are they ok?" a woman asked.
"They're perfect," Sal assured her. "We need to get these bodies out of their way, though. You," she said, pointing to a large man, "take this one. Drag him, carry him, I don't care. You and you," she picked out two more, "get the one from the stairwell. Throw them in a closet or something. We'll deal with it later."
The townsfolk nodded, but didn't move.
"As soon as you get the bodies out of sight, bring the kids up. They don't need to see that shit. The older boy is keeping them around the corner. He knows what's going on, and I'm sorry for that, but he'll make sure the littler ones don't see."