Ranger
Book 3 Of The Dark Elf War
William Stacey
Contents
Prologue
I. Remnants of Hate
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
II. The Black Knights
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
III. The Soulless
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
IV. The Water Dragon
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
V. The Raid
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright © 2019 by William Stacey
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Amalia Chitulescu Digital Art www.amaliach.com
For the coolest nephew and niece in the world, Ethan and Jessica, you two rock! Stay awesome forever.
Prologue
Eastern Russia, two months after the Culling
Major Valentin Michaelovitch Volkov sat in the turret of his eight-wheeled Gaz-5923 armored personnel carrier, squinting through the gusting filthy gray snow. On his right, perilously close, was the lip of the embankment, a steep fall down the mountain to certain death. Three times now, his convoy had almost lost a bus over the treacherous cliff, forcing them to move at a crawl. His military vehicles with their snow chains were much better suited for this wet, dirty sludge than the civilian vehicles wedged between them, but they needed the other vehicles to move everyone.
And if they didn't escape the mountains tonight, they'd all die.
Behind him, he made out the closest of the armored trucks but none of the buses, trucks, and tractors that followed them. What he saw, even through the storm, was the glowing summit of Mount Ichinski, less than eight kilometers away. The true eruption had yet to occur, but Valentin knew it was coming. If we're still in the mountains when the volcano blows…
Come on, Leo.
Twenty minutes ago, he sent Leo forward in his armored reconnaissance car to clear the half kilometer to the H-7 tunnel, the final pass that led onto the plains of the Kamchatka Peninsula. For eight weeks, they hadn't dared to break out from their mountain refuge, a small mining village, but the storm and the ash must have grounded the elves' winged monsters, because so far, their trip was firestorm free. But that didn't mean the route was safe. Their enemy didn't need to fly to hold the tunnel against them. He activated his radio, yelling into the mike over the wind. "Leo, Leo, come in. Send SITREP."
There was no answer.
The lack of a response wasn't by itself a cause for concern. Radio reception had turned to shit in the storm, but Leo should have been back by now. They couldn't just sit here exposed like this. They were running out of time.
So do something. You're in charge, aren't you?
He dropped inside the turret, thankful to get out of the wind. Two other soldiers shared the vehicle: his driver, Maxim, and Dimmi, sitting in the turret gunner's seat. Dimmi was no more a common soldier than Valentin was, but these days everyone performed whatever task was necessary, and operating the gun was critical.
The vehicle was designed to hold only seven soldiers, but there were at least a dozen civilians—women, children… babies—wedged in back, miserable and frightened. There was no other choice.
Dimmi met his gaze, his arm resting on the firing mechanism of the 30mm Shipunov cannon. "Captain Egorov?" he asked.
Valentin shook his head. "Maxim," he yelled to the other man sitting forward of the turret. When the young man, still in his teens, looked back over his shoulder and Valentin was certain he was listening, he spoke slowly, making sure both men understood. "You and Dimmi stay here. Let no one out. I'm going on foot to find Leo. Remember, keep everyone buttoned up. We may need to hurry."
"Is… is it the elves?" Maxim asked, a hint of panic in his voice. Maxim, a native of the Caucasus, had served as Valentin's driver since the night the sky flashed green and everything had gone to hell. In that time, he had proven himself a solid if unremarkable soldier.
Valentin smiled like a stern father. "No. Even monsters don't go out into storms."
Dimmi reached out and gripped Valentin's leg from where he sat in the cramped turret. "Boss, I'll come."
Valentin shook his head. "No, you stay here and keep the civilians calm. No need for anyone else to freeze his balls. I'm just going down the road, take a quick look. I'll come right back."
"That's a stupid idea."
Valentin smirked as he pried Dimmi's hand from his leg. "I'm in charge. I get to make stupid decisions. Don't worry. I'll be quick."
Dimmi grunted and bit his lip but nodded. "If Leo's stuck in a snowbank…"
"I'll kick his skinny ass." Valentin climbed out of the turret, exposing himself once more to the biting winds. He pulled his balaclava down over his face, ensuring he could see through the eyeholes. Then he clambered down the icy side of the fighting vehicle before scanning the dark skies once more, seeing nothing but ash and snow.
He was about to step off when Dimmi appeared through the hatch, holding an assault rifle by the barrel so Valentin could take the stock. "Boss," Dimmi said in exasperation, reminding him of his mother. "Please."
Valentin took the weapon and worked the action to make sure a round was chambered. "I didn't forget it, Dimmi. Just checking. Good job."
"Right." The other man shook his head and dropped back inside the turret.
He had forgotten it, but in his defense, his thoughts were becoming increasingly distracted these days—too little sleep and too many lives depending on him.
Valentin pushed his way through a half foot of dirty gray sludge—thicker, wetter, and slicker because of the ash. Without the snow, they'd probably have already suffocated. God saves those who love Him.
He set off, squinting into the wind, but made it only about a hundred meters before he heard a voice cry out behind him, just audible above the howling winds. Four shapes materialized out of the blowing snow. Valentin sighed. Dimmi must have told Andrej what he was doing.
Of course he had.
As the forms approached, he recognized his second-in-command, Senior Lieutenant Andrej Gromov. Gromov had wrapped a tan desert scarf around his face, but his clever blue eyes flashed with displeasure. "Major," he said. "Has your hea
d frozen? The elves—"
"Hate the cold more than we do. With God's blessing, they'll freeze to death."
"That may be, but we're coming with you."
The two men on either side of Andrej were Stanislov Popov and Timur Semenov, senior sergeants from the 36th Battalion Tactical Group. While neither man had been a part of his team, each had distinguished himself in the brutal fighting over the last eight weeks. Without a word, both sergeants stepped past Valentin and Andrej, their rifles held in the ready position as they moved down the snow-swept mountain road. The final man wasn't a man or even a soldier, although she wore the comically oversized uniform of one. Anna Dominika Galkinaya was a thin and mousy nineteen-year-old, a daughter of a miner. She carried no weapon, but her God-given gift had saved all of their lives more than once. Someone, Andrej probably, had lent her a helmet to wear, which was ridiculously large on her small head.
The men considered Dominika their guardian angel.
Valentin met her gaze. "Anything?"
She closed her eyes then opened them a moment later before shaking her head. "No magic—at least nothing like the elves—but the air is very… different, hard to describe. It feels like something is changing."
"The entire world has changed," Andrej yelled over the wind.
Valentin reached out and pulled Dominika closer then put his lips near her ear. "If you sense anything…"
She bobbed her head. "Yes, yes, Major. I am the canary in the mine."
He smiled. "A brave canary."
They moved forward, the two senior enlisted soldiers leading the way. Valentin and Andrej followed, with Dominika in the rear where they could protect her—although if he were being honest, she was by far the most dangerous of them all. Despite his initial annoyance with Andrej for coming, he was thankful for the backup. When your enemy could turn invisible and kill you with a gesture, a wise man used every tool at his disposal.
Thunder boomed, causing him to jump, his heart racing. Ahead, far too close, a barrage of what must have been chain lightning flashed through the blowing snow, leaving the stench of ozone in the air.
What kind of snowstorm has thunder and lightning?
The men paused, exchanging worried glances with one another.
Dominika stared wide-eyed at him. "It's something," she said. "Not like the elves but unusual."
Valentin stared ahead, knowing they had to be almost at the tunnel. Once they were through it, they'd be free of the enemy, and it'd be a clear path all the way to Petropavlovsk. And what will you do then? Since that green light flashed through the sky, Judgment Day, it's as if you and the others are alone on this world. What will you tell them if Petropavlovsk is abandoned?
And how will you stop the elves from coming after you?
Thunder rumbled once more, so close Valentin's bones shook. More chain lightning struck the cliffs ahead of them where the tunnel lay. "Come on!" Valentin motioned the men forward.
There was no going back.
As they approached the pass, the right embankment rose and became a cliff, cutting off the blowing snow and revealing the four-wheeled GAZ armored reconnaissance car sitting in the middle of the highway less than thirty meters away.
Leo's car.
Valentin exchanged a wary glance with Andrej. Dominika shook her head, showing the area was still clear of the enemy… maybe. They crept closer to the vehicle. Its small turret with its 14.5mm heavy machine gun was facing forward, and the engine was running. The tunnel should have been only a couple hundred meters away, but a bright light—like headlights, only more powerful—flared through the snow.
Something was wrong here.
A figure sat in the crew commander's hatch, peering forward so intently he didn't see them approaching from behind.
Valentin slapped the ice-crusted side of the vehicle with his gloved hand. "Hey!"
It wasn't Leo but his driver, a young private. The man jerked in fright, his eyes wide. What happened here? Valentin slung his rifle on his shoulder then climbed up the vehicle, hanging onto the small turret. What was this boy's name… Igor? No, Ilyushin.
"Major," he said in a voice filled with relief. "Praise to God."
"What's going on, Ilyushin? Where's your boss? Where's Captain Egorov?"
The private pointed ahead with a trembling gloved hand. "He and Petyr—I mean Senior Sergeant Bury—went forward on foot when they saw the glow. It's been a long time. I've been calling and calling on the radio."
Valentin reached up and squeezed the young man's forearm. "The storm's shitting on our comms. What did he tell you to do?"
"Man the gun, watch the pass, and wait. He said they'd be right back, but it's been too long."
Valentin peered forward, seeing nothing but the bright light haloed by the blowing snow. Had the enemy taken shelter within the tunnel, maybe set fires before it, or was this more of their deviltry? "Okay, Ilyushin. We'll take over."
"I… I'm sorry, Major. I should have done something, checked on them."
"No, no. You did the right thing. We'll find the captain and your friend."
Relief washed over his face. "Yes, sir. Thank you, Major."
"Good. Stay here. Keep your finger off that thing's trigger. I don't want you shooting us, you hear me?"
"Yes, Major."
Valentin joined Andrej and the others, pulling them into a close huddle. "I don't know what's happening here, but Leo and Petyr are missing. Be ready for the worst. If you even suspect an invisible foe, throw a grenade and start shooting, understand?"
They all nodded, including Dominika, her large eyes filled with resolve.
"Okay, here's the plan. We're not here to fight. We look, then we move back. If the enemy is in the tunnel, we bring the vehicles forward and execute an assault. There's no going back now. Clear?"
"Clear, boss," said Andrej. "I'll go first."
"The shit you will," said Valentin as he turned about and slipped forward, bringing his rifle to his shoulder, his thumb on the safety selector.
The others followed behind. His toes were going numb, as were his fingers in his wet gloves, but he ignored them, pushing on. As they moved closer to the bright light, the stench of ozone hung in the air.
They froze at the sudden bone-chilling primal cry of rage that ripped through the wind, and Valentin's immediate fear was trolls, but no troll had ever screamed that loudly. They remained motionless, listening. Valentin switched the fire selector on his rifle to automatic.
For several minutes, they heard nothing more. Valentin edged forward once again. His boot caught against something in the snow, and he almost fell forward. He bent down and brushed the snow away from the obstacle before realizing in horror it was a body. He stared into Leo's dead face.
His grief surged.
He and Leo had gone through selection together in the Urals, fought in a half dozen different shitholes, and drunk far too much vodka. Dropping beside his friend, he pushed more of the snow away, exposing Leo's ruined torso, his chest caved in as though a car had run him over.
Andrej moved farther ahead then dropped beside another snow-covered corpse—Petyr, Leo's gunner. At least Valentin thought it was Petyr—the head was gone. He removed a glove and placed the back of his hand on Leo's cheek. Still warm. He rose, choking back his sorrow. There was no time for such things. The children, God help him, everyone, depended on him.
Dominika placed her lips near his ear. "The lights, the lightning… it's not natural."
"Boss," hissed Andrej. "Something's coming!"
The giant lurched out of the blowing snow, and Valentin’s breath caught in his throat. At least three times the height of a man, it walked upright on two stunted but powerful legs. A six-foot tree trunk shorn of branches rested across its wide shoulders. White fur covered its thick arms from the huge shoulders down to the oversized biceps and across its wide chest. Its head was manlike but bald, misshapen, with beady black eyes set too far apart on either side of a nose that looked as if it had been cru
shed flat by a rock. A single thick tusk sprouted from a too-wide mouth, below which hung a long matted white beard. It wore a patchwork of stitched-together furs, and more skins were wrapped around each of the giant's elephantine feet.
For several heartbeats, they all stared at one another, men, woman, and giant. Then rage flashed through the monster's eyes, and it lifted its club high overhead, screaming what sounded like a single word: "Gogmagog!"
The giant charged, and Valentin, a veteran of many battles, froze like a recruit. As the club swept up, he now understood how Leo had died.
Dominika saved them. Fire blossomed from her outstretched hands to wash over the giant's face. It screamed in pain, its beard and much of the skin from its face charred. Someone shoved Valentin, sending him flying into the snow as the club whistled down where he had been standing. A long burst of automatic rifle fire cut through the night. Valentin rolled over, came up on one knee, and brought his rifle to his shoulder just as the giant smashed someone down with its club, snapping bones and ending a life.
A fireball struck the giant's chest, washing over its torso, and Valentin saw Dominika standing her ground. Someone else opened fire. Valentin did the same, sending short bursts into the giant. The giant screamed, lashing out once more with its weapon and sending another man flying. We're only angering it.
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