Shadowrun: Burning Bright

by Tom Dowd

  The front line of beetles struck the barrier, and immediately flashes of energy ripped through them, knocking them back and turning them away. It was a powerful spell, a custom design the Ares magicians had created specifically for use against insect spirits. The barrier blocked them, and contact with it was hideously, maybe even fatally, painful. It was one of various hard-core designs that Ravenheart knew. Kyle would have been happy to know even half of them.

  All of the troopers were within the barriers and quickly began moving to their assigned buses. Kyle reached the doors of the first one, just as Douglas and his powerful ork strength pulled the side door open. The ork dashed inside, ducking low under the protection of the panel along the half-steps that led up to the deck of the bus. He glances quickly down the length of the vehicle, and then stood, turned, and fired two quick shots from his combat rifle. Kyle pulled himself up behind the ork trooper just in time to see a man with a twisted dark aura and a gun in his slackening hand begin to fall, a trail of blood arcing through the air from his head. A young girl, barely a teenager, and just second ago the man's hostage, dove forward screaming.

  Kyle turned, looking at the occupants of the bus, who ducked and cowered in fear. He did not or could not see Beth or Natalie. He cursed, and vaulted back down the stairs as Keith entered, covering Douglas's move to the front of the bus while shouting for everyone aboard to keep their heads down. Kyle doubted there would be any problem with that.

  But he was supposed to be on the last bus, the rear one where he could see the rest and provide them magical aid if needed. He dashed down the line of buses and was about to run through the open doors of the second bus when a flash of light lit the area.

  He spun as dozens of bugs threw themselves blindly against the shield, blasting and searing themselves in a mad­dening effort to breach it. And Kyle could see that the shield was weakening, fading in spots. Ravenheart's voice con­firmed it: "Get ready to move! The shield's only got a few seconds!"

  Kyle turned back and looked up at the shapes and forms of people he could barely make out in the bus. One of the troopers was moving among them, and he heard the engine of the first bus spring to life.

  "Come on!" Vathoss yelled at him from the rear bus.

  Kyle glanced over and saw the sergeant hanging out the rear door, waving him forward to the third bus. Beyond him, Seeks-the-Moon stepped out through the wall of the bus and manifested physically. Kyle wanted to catch his eye, to see if Moon had seen Beth or Natalie as he'd manifested in turn in each bus, advising the passengers to stay low as the assault began.

  But Seeks-the-Moon was turned away, looking up at the dimming, now almost flickering shield. Kyle saw that and dashed for the third bus. Time was up.

  Vathoss leapt inside and into the driver's seat, and Kyle quickly followed him, both men slamming their hands down on the flat yellow button that closed the doors. The key was in place, so Vathoss depressed the ignition switch, and the bus engine surged into life.

  Seeks-the-Moon appeared as a blur of motion next to Kyle. "We're out of time!" he said. "The shield is solidifying."

  "What?" Kyle yelled, barely able to hear him over the gunning of the bus engine. He wanted to scan the crowd on the bus, look for Beth and Natalie's auras, but Seeks-the-Moon had moved in front of him, blocking his view.

  "The shield is nearly complete," the spirit told him.

  "It'll fall in a second!" Kyle said, trying to move past him.

  "No, not Ravenheart's," said Seeks-the-Moon. "The other shield, the one around the hive, is almost complete."

  Kyle stopped and turned, leaning to look out the slightly bubbled front window of the bus. Vathoss wanted to move, to get clear, but Ravenheart's barrier was still up, though flickering dangerously. Beyond it, obvious to his still astral senses, Kyle could see the ward that was being erected around the grounds of the power plant. Seeks-the-Moon was right; the energy lattice was nearly ready, nearly complete.

  Kyle keyed his communication link. "Anne!" he shouted unnecessarily. "The hive's ward is nearly completed!"

  "I know." Her voice was ragged with stress. "I'm releasing my barrier . . . now!"

  The gray and blue barrier, barely existent and now crawl­ing with bugs powerful enough to resist the burning arcs of power, exploded in a flash and spray of energy. Bugs, dozens of them of all types were tossed aside by the dissolution of the barrier. Immediately, grenades began detonating in the midst of the swarm of insects that had fallen back from the exploding barrier. The grenades did little damage, but it did scatter the creatures. Both Kyle and Seeks-the-Moon threw explosive spells of their own into the chaos.

  "Go! Go! Go!" screamed Ravenheart. "We're out of time—I'm sending the drone in!"

  Vathoss's body jerked as he heard the words, and he turned to look at Kyle. If Ravenheart had ordered to drone in, they had maybe a minute, maybe slightly more, before it exploded.

  The headset in Kyle's helmet crackled. "Negative! Nega­tive!" it was Quess' frantic voice. "My key isn't here and the hot-wire won't jump it!"

  Kyle flexed his finger to respond, but Ravenheart's was faster. "No choice!" she yelled. "Run if you have to!"

  Ahead of them all, the first bus lurched forward, turning hard to the right. A whirring, keening, skittering mass of bugs rushed it, climbing madly over the front. A barrage of magical darts of power rained down on them from Ravenheart; Kyle was amazed that her position across the street was still safe.

  "Rockets!" she yelled over the open channel, and Kyle saw four flashes of light from the darkness beyond the of the plant grounds, followed quickly by three barely visible streaks. The four high-explosive rockets shot through the regrouping mass of bugs, probably a dozen in that area alone, and continued on toward the front of the building.

  The rockets struck the large metal doors as Ravenheart's shield was dropped. They detonated in rapid succession, sending Shockwaves through the building and out across the open ground, where it rocked the buses.

  Vathoss slammed the transmission of Kyle's bus into mo­tion, jerking forward and crashing into the rear of the second bus. The throttle was wide open, and its tires spun for a sec­ond on the concrete, but then it began to push the other bus forward.

  The first bus was covered in a wall of bugs; there was no way Douglas could see past them, but he only needed to head toward the outer fence or gate. His helmet system dis­played a compass bearing; if necessary he could navigate by that, turning right after he struck the fence. Assuming the bugs didn't tear the bus apart first.

  "I will help them," Seeks-the-Moon said, flashing through astral space toward the first bus. The writhing swarm of bugs on the bus was so dense that Kyle wondered if the spirit would be able to find a way through them. Then, Kyle could hear the sound of tearing metal despite the distance and the roaring of the bus engines. The bugs were peeling the heavy plastic and metal sides and top of the bus away.

  Another wave of missiles arced in through the now blasted open doorway. This time, their path unimpeded, they exploded deep inside the plant. Kyle saw the flashes in the building's upper windows.

  Almost immediately, dozens of the bug spirits began to leap from the first bus and rush toward the building: the queens were under attack, they must be defended. It wouldn't be too long, however, before either the queens themselves or any human insect shamans inside would real­ize the true nature of the threat and respond accordingly.

  Kyle's bus lurched, and window to the rear shattered in a spray of safety glass. He turned as the powerful mandibles of a beetle thrust inside, catching a man who was springing away, tearing his head and shoulder completely off. Kyle called up and released a missile of magic power that struck the bug in the head and made it pull back, squealing. He felt a slight twinge in his neck muscles, his body beginning to protest the strain.

  The translucent skylight and emergency exit on top of the bus were torn free, and a pair of ants tried to thrust their way in simultaneously. Their odor was unmistakable, and Kyle unsl
ung the hypervelocity assault rifle he'd been given. He stepped under the skylight as one of the ants finally made room for the other, and fired before the other's head was clear. The weapon fired, spraying twelve quick rounds of ex­ploding ammo at the ant spirits. Most of the shots hit the first, the bug that was trying to push inside, but some also hit the second. Neither was badly hurt, but each was thrown off enough that as the bus lurched again and sent Kyle sprawling, both insects slid from view. Kyle thought he saw their bodies tumble off outside as he fell hard against his shoulder.

  Hands immediately reached down to help up. As he stood, leaving the rifle behind and his upper arm throbbing in pain, Kyle saw that his bus had turned away from the second bus and was beginning to accelerate. Kyle stumbled forward and practically collapsed against the safety cage that protected the drive.

  "What are you doing?" Kyle yelled at Vathoss. "What about Quess?"

  The sergeant shook his head, cursing. "I can't push him! Some of the fraggin' bugs are jammed up in his wheels!" Kyle leaned down to look back toward the second bus as a group of ants, apparently unable or unwilling to run after the moving buses, turned on the unmoving one. Kyle rushed to the back of his bus, pulling a powerful spell to mind. He cast it, and it lanced out in a series of white-green bands that wove into a loose web and flashed over a group of rushing bugs. They lurched to a halt, pinned to the ground beneath the web of energy, and then began to attack the strands that held them.

  He realized that he had not heard a message from Quess in nearly a minute, but a quick check of the heads-up display projected on the inside of his helmet faceshield showed that only the command circuit, the channel to Ravenheart, was active. Using her remote command ability, she had, for some reason, locked him out of the channels the other—

  The rear windows exploded inward, showering Kyle in a spray of rapidly fragmenting safety glass. A black and brown roach, Kyle's height and twice his width, thrust itself through the broken window. Its front legs dug into the metal and plastic, as its long antennae whipped nearly two meters into the bus. Kyle was knocked back onto the floor, landing flat on his back.

  The roach, reeking of something foul, pulled itself for­ward, and dug one of its front legs into Kyle's abdomen, pressing down sharply against his-body armor. Its mouth clicked open and shut as it leaned down toward him. Kyle kicked up with his right leg, wincing against the pain in his abdomen and shoulder, catching the creature in the soft, wet part just below its mouth. The roach yanked back, letting up on the pressure and Kyle rolled to one side. Just as he did, a wild burst of automatic weapons from inside the bus tore into the bug. Kyle looked up and saw a man, his eyes huge and mouth wide, holding down the trigger of the assault ri­fle. Stray rounds tore into the rear of the bus, clipping the bug and another passenger.

  The roach thrust forward, whipping a feeler across the man's face, leaving a long, bloody cut. The man spun away, the gun still firing wildly across the side windows, blowing them out. Most of the roach was in the bus, its legs braced, pushing and tearing at the screaming passengers. It reached the man and slashed into him with his front legs, then bring­ing him toward its mouth. Kyle heard a loud crunch and the man's body began to jerk even more.

  The bug was less than a meter away, and Kyle reached out with his hand and a spell and touched its sleek body. The roach jerked, and Kyle released the spell. The roach's body began to darken in an area radiating outward from where Kyle's hand was, and the creature began to thrash, its long spiny legs tearing into the side of the bus and the passen­gers.

  Blood and ichor burst from the weakened body of the crea­ture as it began to screech. The bus lurched again, and Kyle heard the distinct crash of metal against metal, and then the bus bounced harshly across what Kyle took to be the railroad tracks paralleling the street. The bug twisted away from Kyle, turning to one side, but Kyle's hand was already sinking into the weakened, liquefying skin, down onto the creature's underbelly.

  One of the roach's thrashing legs caught him in the head, knocking him to one side. Dazed, Kyle curled and tried to roll away as the thing hit him again, tearing into his body armor.

  The bus turned, tilting radically to the right as it bounced off the tracks. The engine surged again, but Kyle also heard what sounded like plastiglass cracking at the front of the bus. The screams got louder as the roach righted itself, drenched in a spray of blood from someone's leg.

  Kyle tried to clear his vision as another spiny leg shot down at him. Before it could get him, he twisted aside and the leg tore through the plastic seat next to him. He released another spell, directly into the roach's looming underside. The force of the spell lifted the bug and slammed it against the roof of the bus, arcs of power rippling around. Single-shot gunfire sounded from the front of the bus, and as Kyle tried to pull himself to his feet, the ground outside, back toward the plant, was illumined in a red-orange glow, quickly followed by an explosion and a Shockwave. The second bus, still where Vathoss' push had left it, blew open in a flash of light and fire.

  The bug dropped down to the deck of the bus, its legs flailing out again. The bus hit another series of bumps, and Kyle was knocked back onto the floor. The roach screeched and came at him, pinning him to the partially shattered rear seat Kyle pulled the combat knife from his boot sheath and stabbed it upward into the bug's lower body with all his strength. The bus bounced again, but this time its motion helped him, slamming the rear of the bug's body harder onto the blade.

  One hand on the blade, one hand now on top of the creature's jerking back, Kyle cast another spell, wincing as a wave of hot red pain washed over him. Power arced between his hands, cutting the insect spirit's body like a band saw. Kyle and the rear of the bus were bathed in a sudden wash of ichor, but then the creature's form began to unravel, its energy returning to astral space as it died. The bus jerked, and Kyle was knocked to his right as it struck on that side, sending up a shower of sparks and sheared plastic and metal.

  A single, loud tone sounded in Kyle's headset. The bus continued on, smashing heavily into something. Kyle sprawled forward screaming, "GET DOWN! GET DOWN!" as he tried to grab anyone and everyone near him and pull them down to the bus' deck.

  There was a light behind them. Unstoppable and searing, it burned bright white, bathing everything, even the shadows, in the blazing light of the sun. Heat washed over them, and then the bus was pushed forward, twisting, turning on its side. As he spun, the bus flipping, Kyle could see back toward the plant just for a second.

  The light was blinding, but it was dampened and dimmed by the cracking shield of green-purple energy that contained it for the briefest moment. There was a point of light inside the dome of energy, surging, straining against it. The sky lit with a second sun.

  The bus rolled, and Kyle was slammed against the side as another wave of light, this one laced with purple, washed over the bus. There was pain everywhere in his body as the bus slid on its side and slammed into something far harder than itself.

  The light dimmed, and there was no other noise, no other Shockwave, only a powerful rush of wind back toward the power plant.

  The bus stopped, tilted, and then settled. People cried and screamed. Some began to fight to get out. Kyle struggled with them, his right arm virtually useless.

  It was dark again outside, and warm. Warmer than it had been. A red-white glow lit parts of the surrounding buildings and the now shattered roadway and abutment that had apparently shielded them from most of the blast. Kyle staggered a few steps out onto the road and looked back. He could dimly make out a plume of black smoke that rose into the air, lit from below by a terrible fire. He knew where he was—he was at the point where the 90/94 interstate crossed Cermak Road. They hadn't gotten clear; he was within the blast radius. But he was alive. He was alive.

  He turned, barely able to keep himself from falling over. His bus, almost unrecognizable now, lay on its side, slammed into the front of a building. Far beyond it, on the bridge that crossed the south branch of the
Chicago River, he could see the first bus, twisted and bent and crammed into the metal supports of the bridge. There were people milling, stunned, near each vehicle. There were no bugs to be seen.

  From around me rear of the last bus, Seeks-the-Moon came walking slowly. Even through Kyle's pain he could see that the spirit was weakened, maybe irrevocably—he'd fought one of the insect spirits toe to toe and maybe won, barely.

  "Beth. . . Natalie . . ." Kyle gasped, his legs suddenly giv­ing way. Seeks-the-Moon reached out to hold him up, saying, "They weren't on the bus."

  Not on the bus. They weren't on Seeks-the-Moon's bus, the first bus. They weren't on Kyle's bus, the last one. That meant they'd been on the second bus. The bus that had ex­ploded.

  Kyle collapsed, falling forward and barely supported by the spirit. There was nothing. Nothing to feel, only the pain.

  "They weren't on any of the buses," the spirit whispered. "I was on all of them."

  Kyle turned his head slightly and was startled by what he saw. The depth of compassion in the eyes of his former ally spirit was unfathomable. "None of the buses . . .” Kyle mumbled, almost unable to speak. His right leg wanted to collapse, but he wouldn't let it.

  "They were on none of me three buses. I didn't see them."

  Kyle nodded. He needed to heal himself, but carefully; there were pains in his stomach mat were dangerous. He tried to key his communication link with Ravenheart and then stopped, realizing his helmet had been torn from his head by the bug or during me crash.

  "We have to lead these people away from here," the spirit said.

  "Yes, there might be radiation . . ." Kyle pulled himself up and stood again on his own. "That way." He pointed across the bridge past the other bus. “Toward Chinatown"

  "There's no radiation," said Seeks-the-Moon.

  Kyle looked at the spirit again, trying to place what was so different about him. "There's got to be radiation. The bomb went off."