“It’s truck five. They’ve seen us on the ground and they’re deploying a detail.”
“Okay. Anyone from truck five, respond.” Lyndsey waited. “This is Doctor Teare to security detail from truck five, call in now.”
There was no reply.
Lyndsey frowned. “Alec, it looks like they have no comms.”
“I’ll go over and talk to them,” Alec said.
“No. You’d better stay out in front. Send a runner.”
“Will do.”
Lyndsey listened while Alec called out for someone to take a message. This wasn’t good. Her people had only been on the ground for a few minutes, and already things were starting to unravel.
She switched the channel to speak to the other trucks. “Kyrksen, what’s the situation on the hill? Anything changed?” She waited, chewing her lip. “Kyrksen? Truck two?”
But all she heard, was the crackling hiss of interference. The channel was dead.
CHAPTER 14
The Hill
SOMEONE GRABBED CONNOR’S ARM and shouted something at him, the voice muffled, but grim and insistent. Parry, he thought. Parry’s come to help me. But Connor didn’t look around, didn’t even lower his binoscanner. He kept the scanner steady, its small view screen pressed against his visor’s toughened glass, and he stared, his mind whirling, a jolt of pure adrenalin surging through his veins. This couldn’t be happening. It was too hideous, too much like the dark visions that had haunted his sleepless night.
But still, they came.
The people leaped down from the floating vehicles. Dozens of them. Fiendish figures silhouetted against the glare of the floodlights, all clad in dark EVA suits, twin lights shining from their visors like fiery eyes. And they were all armed, their rifles cradled against their chests or dangling from their hands.
“No,” Connor murmured. And in that moment, the huge vehicles crept forward, gliding across the lowlands. The menacing foot soldiers kept pace, marching forward together, and Connor was in no doubt about their destination. They were headed toward the hill, toward his home, his family.
Connor lowered his binoscanner and without a word, handed it to Parry.
Parry took up the scanner, but only for a second. “We’ve got to fall back,” he shouted. “Comms are out. Raise your hand if you can hear me.”
Connor lifted his hand.
“Good.” Parry lowered his voice but spoke carefully, enunciating every word. “Come on. We’ll climb up and get back behind the ridge.” He held the binoscanner out and Connor took it, stowing it in his pocket. Parry took his arm. “Connor, we can’t stay here. They’ve got us outgunned and outnumbered. Think of your family. We have to move.”
“Yes.” Connor swallowed hard. “Yes. Sorry, I…”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t hear you properly.” He guided Connor around, urging him up the slope. “Climb.”
Connor leaned into the slope and started uphill, digging his heels into the loose rocks. He was breathing hard now, every gasp an effort, every exhalation misting his visor. From behind him, he could hear the rumbling drone of the six vehicles growing louder, closer.
“Come on!” Parry yelled.
“Yes.” Connor clenched his jaw, and some hidden instinct, some deeply buried will to survive flickered into life in his mind. He grunted, summoning up every ounce of his strength, calling on every last reserve of energy. And he climbed. With each step he slammed his boots against the slope, grinding the loose stones beneath his rubber soles, then his leg muscles tightened, pushing him upward. He lifted his feet high, stomping up the slope with every muscle fiber working flat out, every heartbeat howling in his eardrums.
Every moment stretched out, every split-second became an agonizing fury of hot breath and bone-juddering effort, and then he was there, cresting the ridge, hurtling himself over the top, his lungs burning. He gasped for air and half tumbled, half scrambled his way down the other side.
Finn and John were already there, hunkered down, and Connor collapsed next to them, sitting down hard on the stones, his chest heaving. Parry was hard on his heels, leaping over the ridge and running lightly down the slope to join them. He squatted down on his haunches and laid his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” he shouted. “You’re safe.”
Connor nodded, still breathing too hard to speak, and then a harsh whistle erupted inside his helmet. He winced, but the noise died away quickly, replaced by a rush of background sounds. Are the comms back? He turned to Parry. “Can you hear me?”
“Sure.” Parry’s voice came through loud and clear. “Comms are up. Thank God for that.”
“Yeah.” Connor fought to control his breathing. “Did you see them?”
“Them?” Finn butted in. “Who? What did you see?”
“People came from the trucks,” Connor said. “They’re on foot. Maybe forty. Maybe more.”
Parry held out his hand and waggled it side to side. “Not that many. More like twenty, twenty-five.” He paused. “It’s easy to overestimate. Heat of the moment.”
“Okay, you’re probably right,” Connor admitted. “The key thing is, they’re armed. Rifles.”
“Oh my God!” Finn hissed. “Oh my God! Forty people with rifles. We’ve got to go. We’ve got to…to get out of here. I don’t even have my pistol for Christ’s sake. We have to go now!”
John grabbed Finn’s arm. “Calm down, Finn. Parry said it was only twenty or so. And listen, they could’ve fired on Connor, but they didn’t. That’s a good sign.”
“Biding their time,” Finn moaned. “They want us alive. Prisoners. And we’re sitting ducks. What the hell are we waiting for?”
“John is right,” Connor said. “Just take a breath, Finn. We’re going to fall back, but we have to move out nice and easy.”
“That’s right,” Parry put in. “We have the home-turf advantage. We know the terrain and they don’t. We can head to higher ground and get ready. Maybe one of us should run back and fetch reinforcements.”
“But who the hell are they?” John asked. “Government? Corporate? What?”
Parry and Connor exchanged a look. “I don’t know,” Parry said. “Too sloppy to be regular military, that’s for sure.”
“Is there someplace around here we can fall back to?” Connor asked.
“Sure. Lots of places,” Parry replied. “I know a spot we can defend easily.”
Connor hesitated. “Okay, that’s good thinking. Parry, I want you to take us there. Lead the way.”
“No problem. There’s a route that’ll keep us out of sight. It’s slower, but we’ve got to shake them off.” Parry moved into a half-crouch and drew his pistol, then he gestured toward an outcrop of dark rock across the slope. “We’ll use the ridge for cover and head down to that point. We’ll have to keep low, but once we get there, we’ll have enough cover to climb up to higher ground.”
“No problem,” Connor stood, keeping low. “Finn, why don’t you go next. John can follow and I’ll watch our six.”
John drew his pistol. “Got it.”
“No, that’s ridiculous,” Finn said, his voice wavering, unsteady. “The hell with that! You’re going downhill for God’s sake. You’re going closer to them!”
“That’s because—” Parry started, but Finn didn’t let him finish. He jumped to his feet and barged into John, snatching the pistol from the younger man’s grip, and then he was away, running across the slope, heading upward.
“Finn!” Connor yelled. “Stop! They’ll see you.”
“I don’t give a shit!” Finn shouted, then he ran on, sending a shower of stones and grit to rain down on Connor and the others.
Connor moved forward. “I’ll go after him.”
But Parry held up his hand. “No, Connor. You won’t catch him in time. It’s too dangerous.”
“But—”
“We have to let him go,” Parry interrupted. “If we break cover now and go after him, we could all get killed.”
&n
bsp; Connor hesitated. “All right. We’ll stick to the plan.”
Above them, Finn stumbled to a halt then bent over to rest his hands on his knees.
On the intercom, Connor heard him muttering something under his breath. “Come down, Finn,” Connor called out. “Get under cover.”
But Finn stood tall and waved the pistol in the air. “No! I’m getting out of here!” He leveled the weapon and loosed off a shot in the general direction of the lowlands. “Take that, you bastards!” He cackled then fired again.
“Hold your fire!” Parry yelled. “Finn, hold your fire!” But he was too late.
CHAPTER 15
The Lowlands
A BEAD OF PERSPIRATION TRICKLED from Jim Clennan’s eyebrow and ran down the side of his face. The muscles in his cheek twitched, but he could do nothing to wipe away the sweat. Christ! I hate this goddamned suit, he thought. What the hell am I doing out here? He sniffed. He was a pilot and a specialist in ground-penetrating scanners, not an infantry grunt. You couldn’t just give a scientist a rifle and turn him into a soldier. He’d have thought Teare would’ve learned that lesson after what had happened to poor Jeanie.
His headset hissed. That’s just great! The damned comms are on the fritz again. He shook his head. What the hell were those jokers in truck one playing at? He could probably have fixed the comms himself by now. Or better yet, he could’ve stayed in his own truck and helped to get the surveillance feeds from the drones back up. At least that way they wouldn’t be going into this blind.
Alec’s voice came through the static. “—kay, folks. We’re getting closer. Check your scopes and take a look around. Report if you see any activity.”
The people on his right started raising their rifles to their shoulders, tilting their heads to use the scopes on their rifles. He lifted his weapon, but another message from Alec came through on the comms: “I need someone to go and talk to the detail from truck five. If you see them, report in.”
Jim looked to his left. Typical, he thought. It had to be me. Because there they were, right next to him: the clowns from truck five all bunched together and waving their arms in a desperate attempt to communicate with each other.
“This is Jim Clennan,” he said. “I see them, Alec. Going over now.”
“Thanks, Jim. Keep them in line and relay Doctor Teare’s orders.”
“Sure.” Jim jogged over to the group and tapped the nearest person on the arm.
The man turned with a start and shouted something but Jim couldn’t make it out.
Oh boy, this is going to be fun. Jim gestured with his arm to get the group to spread out, and they complied, shuffling apart to form a ragged line. So far, so good, Jim thought. He pointed to the hillside and raised his rifle, sighting through his scope, then he pointed to the group from truck five.
A few of them gave him a thumbs up, and Jim returned the gesture. “Okay, Alec, I talked to the truck five detail. Looks like they understood, but I’ll keep an eye on them.”
“Thanks, Jim.”
Job done, Jim thought, and he returned to his position, walking forward, his head tilted to his scope. “Shit!” A flash of white: an EVA suit. No doubt about it; someone just ducked down behind a ridge. And I almost missed it. He shouldn’t have let the idiots from truck five distract him. He should’ve concentrated on that hillside.
Slowly, he slid his rifle to the right. He tried to hold his weapon steady, but it wasn’t easy; his chest tightened and his rifle was heavy and awkward to handle. The view in his scope rose and fell with his every breath. He’d left it too late, and now he could see nothing but a featureless expanse of gray stone. Come on, come on! he told himself. Get it together. He took a slow breath and tried again. There! A glint of light: the weak dawn sunlight reflecting from a visor. The top of an EVA helmet was just visible above the ridge. He had someone’s head in his sights. Wait. Another helmet. Two men. Jesus Christ! He mustn’t lose them. Not again. “Are you seeing this?” he called out.
“Seeing what?” someone answered.
“The people on the hill,” Jim said, his voice cracking, hoarse with tension. “They’re taking up position. I think they’re going to attack. I can’t…” he paused, concentrating on keeping the helmets in his sights. He flexed his index finger, letting it rest lightly on the side of the trigger. And he gasped. At the edge of his scope, an EVA suit streaked past his field of view. He moved his rifle a fraction. There. Someone running, dashing hell for leather up the slope.
A crackle in his headset then chaos: a jumble of voices, a chorus of shouted commands. Above the noise, Alec’s voice came through: “Hold your fire. Repeat, hold your fire.”
“But…they’re coming.” Jim moved his rifle to follow the man. Goddammit! Lost him! He held his breath and tracked his scope gently back across the hill. Yes. There he was. He’d separated from the others to take the high ground, and now he was turning, a weapon in his hands. “Oh my God!” Jim murmured, his eyes wide, staring in disbelief. The idiot was actually going to fire on the trucks. “Gun!” Jim yelled at the top of his voice. “He’s shooting at us! Return fire!”
He squeezed the trigger and his rifle let out a sharp crack and bucked against his shoulder. The plasma shell rocketed through the air and slammed into the hillside, sending up a plume of dust and gravel. In his scope, the man in white dived to the ground.
“Cease fire!” someone yelled. “Cease fire!”
Shit! Jim lowered his weapon, but the team from truck five opened fire, unleashing a barrage of plasma shells against the hillside.
“Wait!” Jim bawled. “Truck five, stop firing!” But there was no way they could’ve heard him over the staccato rattle of their rifles. He checked the hillside through his scope and saw a man fall, saw him roll down the slope and out of sight. Another figure lay motionless while chunks of splintered rock rained down on his inert body. But still, the group from truck five raked the slope with a steady stream of shots. I’ve got to stop them, Jim thought. I’ve got to do something. But his hands were trembling and his legs refused to move. This wasn’t his fault. He’d been right to shoot, hadn’t he? The man on the hill had been a threat, a legitimate target. It was self-defense.
Someone ran past Jim and barged into the detail from truck five, pummeling their shoulders, their backs, gesturing for them to lower their weapons.
It was Alec, and Jim breathed a sigh of relief; if anyone could stop them, Alec could. But the commotion continued. While Jim watched, Alec wrenched a rifle from one person’s grip and shoved someone else aside. The group had stopped firing, but now they turned on Alec, trading shoves and brandishing their weapons. Someone’s going to get killed, Jim thought. He took a tentative step forward, but stopped short when Lyndsey’s voice came through the intercom, booming over the background noise: “Silence!”
The radio chatter quietened, and Alec stood back from the melee, holding up his hand to ward off confrontation.
“Alec, tell me what the hell happened,” Lyndsey went on. “Who started shooting?”
Alec looked around as though searching for the guilty party, and Jim opened his mouth to own up. He should say something, he really should, but his lips wouldn’t form the words, and a terrible emptiness hollowed his stomach. He turned away, shuffling his feet on the sticky ground, and he hung his head.
CHAPTER 16
Truck One
LYNDSEY PUT HER HAND TO HER MOUTH, and when she spoke, her voice sounded distant, as though it belonged to somebody else. “Alec, tell me what the hell happened. Who started shooting?”
She waited for Alec to reply, her mind reeling. What damage had been done? How many were wounded? How many lives had been lost?
At last, Alec’s voice came through: “Looks like the detail from truck five opened fire—they had no comms, so they didn’t get their orders. But listen, everyone’s jumpy out here. We should get them back into the trucks, right now.”
“Yes,” Lyndsey replied. “Get them inside. Did we…did we
lose anyone?”
“No casualties on our side. But the people on the hill…they’re down, presumed dead.” He paused. “We’re heading back. If I were you, I’d be getting ready to move the fleet out of here.”
Lyndsey didn’t reply.
“Doctor Teare,” Alec said, “Lyndsey, this isn’t your fault. In a combat situation, these things—”
Lyndsey didn’t let him finish. “Don’t! Do not say these things happen. I’m supposed to be in charge of this mission, goddammit!”
“I was just trying to—”
“Well don’t,” Lyndsey interrupted. She switched off the intercom and opened the channel to the other trucks. “When everyone’s back inside we move out. Do a headcount. Check it twice. Then we start moving, and we get back on our original course. Teare out.”
She closed the channel. What a goddamned mess, she thought. And I have no idea how to put this right. Not one goddamned idea.
CHAPTER 17
The Wall
SIOBHAN TILTED HER HEAD to one side and looked up toward the top of the wall. The gray metal panel directly in front of her was just one of many in an unbroken row that stretched out to either side, cutting off her view of the lowlands beyond. “What was that noise?”
“I don’t know,” Milo replied. “I think maybe it was the vehicles, but I can hardly hear a damned thing through this helmet.”
“That’s what happens if you rely on Mac—crappy helmets, crappy suits.”
“They’re fine,” Milo said. “They’re decent EVA suits, they’re just an older model that’s all.”
“Tell me about it. The intercom barely works, there’s no cooling system, and this helmet’s so goddamned heavy it’s breaking my neck. It’s like wearing a goldfish bowl.”
“We’re here now, Shiv—let’s make the most of it.” Milo beckoned her to come nearer. “Here, I’ll give you a boost, then you can see over the top.”
Siobhan hung back. “I don’t know. I didn’t like that noise. It sounded like gunfire.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” Siobhan hesitated. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”
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