Black spots began to blot her vision as Jahrna lifted her from the ground by the throat. She struggled to regain her footing and managed to stand. Jahrna tightened her stranglehold.
Mind and lungs screaming for air, Kayla’s vision darkened more. Another minute and she would pass out. In desperation, she grabbed at the whip around her neck with one hand, while the other reached back over her shoulder and managed to grab onto the collar of Jahrna’s leather outfit. With one last burst of strength, Kayla swung her right leg back behind Jahrna, pivoting forward at the waist with the last of her strength.
The move lifted Jarhna off her feet. She flew over Kayla’s shoulder, landing on her back with a satisfying thud. Kayla dropped to one knee, gasping, but allowing herself a small, satisfied smile as she watched the larger woman struggling to catch her breath. With an effort, Kayla got back to a standing position. “Not such a great feeling, is it?”
Kayla spied where her staff had fallen, and was about to make a run for it when Jahrna called out to her. She had risen to her feet, mud and dirt spotting her black jumpsuit. “Not bad, little kitten,” she taunted. “But now it’s time to have you declawed.”
Jahrna’s whip lashed out, and Kayla felt the wind of its passing as it missed her face by centimeters. Kayla’s hand snapped up in reflex and she found herself as stunned as Jahrna when she discovered that she had, in fact, caught it.
She looked back at Jahrna, and saw the cockiness in the woman’s dark eyes fade. It was hard for her to tell in the darkness, but Kayla was almost certain Jahrna had gone a few shades paler.
Giving the woman her most evil grin, Kayla tugged hard on the whip end, jerking Jahrna forward. Bringing her leg up, she plunged her knee into the other woman’s stomach. Jahrna went down into the dirt a second time.
Kayla advanced on her opponent, who was still face down in the dirt, when Jahrna kicked back, catching Kayla in the knee. Pain blasted through her leg where the contact was made. Kayla stumbled backward. Rising, Jahrna pivoted and caught Kayla in the ribs with a roundhouse kick, dropping Kayla to her knees.
“Poor little kitten,” Jahrna mocked, her voice betraying no emotion. It was as dead as the expression on her face. “You just don’t know when you’re beaten, do you?”
She stroked a finger across Kayla’s chin, laughing that hollow laugh when she tried to pull away. Jahrna pulled back and punched the young huntress across the jaw. Kayla let out a whimper of pain and collapsed.
Snickering, Jahrna took hold of Kayla’s tunic, pulling her back up for another blow. It was clear she was enjoying her little sport. She grabbed Kayla’s chin again and readied another punch. At that moment Kayla met her gaze, and the look froze Jahrna in her tracks.
“My turn,” Kayla’s voice was a hiss. Swinging a fist, she caught Jahrna so hard across the chin that the blow lifted the woman off of her feet. Rising, she stalked over to Jahrna.
“Little kitten, my ass,” Kayla shouted, striking Jahrna in the gut. “You’re gonna see that this kitten has very sharp claws!”
Jahrna stood crumpled over, catching breath she lost from Kayla’s punch. Kayla half limped over to where her taser staff lay in the dirt. Kneeling to retrieve it, she was rising once again when she heard Jahrna’s shriek of rage. The blank expression gone now, Jahrna’s face was a mask of fury as she made a wild charge at Kayla.
Dropping back to one knee, Kayla jammed one end of her staff into the dirt, then hit the weapons extend button. The staff telescoped to its full length, catching Jahrna in the ribs just as she lunged. Using her momentum against her, Kayla levered the woman off the ground, slamming her head first into the wall of the closest building. Kayla felt the force of the blow as Jahrna’s head struck durocrete. Jahrna crumpled to the ground like a rag doll and lay there, unmoving.
Kayla approached, charging her weapon as she did so. The precaution was unnecessary. From the unnatural way Jahrna’s head lay to one side, it was obvious that the impact had broken her neck. She was dead before she settled to the ground.
Kayla breathed out a small sigh. “Meow, bitch!”
She reached for her belt pouch, and the DNA collector within. The sounds of firefights elsewhere inside the complex drifted back to her on the breeze, but none so near as to be any immediate concern to her, which suited her just fine. Her entire body ached from this last encounter. As soon as this is over, I’m going to soak in a hot bath for about a week.
She was collecting the genetic sample she needed from Jahrna’s body when a strangled howl of frustration sounded in the distance. She looked down the street, towards the far end of town that hugged the mesa wall. A fire was burning further down the street and atop one of the buildings ―the communications center from the look of it― she saw an unmistakable silhouette. A Kleezha silhouette.
Kahr.
The Kleezha was thrashing about, obviously upset over the way his ambush was turning out. The sudden, overwhelming urge to contribute to his misery came over. That might make Forster mad. She shrugged. Oh, well.
Forgetting Jahrna, she slipped her staff into its sheath. Pulling her sidearm, she sprinted for the communications building.
*
The pounding on the sheet metal door became more and more insistent. The animals in their stalls stomped and snorted nervously. Huddling beside Podo, MacKenzie trembled, though to her credit, she never once made any sound.
Podo gently moved her back toward the trapdoor from where she had emerged from hiding, gesturing with his rifle for Willy and Shannon to head back into the relative safety of the storeroom below, a directive they obeyed without argument. Shannon’s head had just disappeared below, when the pounding on the door suddenly ceased.
The silence that followed was more disturbing than the racket that preceded it. Podo gestured back at the pit as Willy popped his head out once more. The boy understood what he wanted and he ducked back into the shadows. A moment later, with far more stealth than when it had opened, the section of false floor covering the steps below slid back into place.
Podo grabbed MacKenzie by the hand and dragged the girl off to the side, behind several stacks of feed drums. He had just ducked behind himself when the main door of the barn slid open on its track.
Two figures stood silhouetted in the moonlight from outside. The largest one, standing half stooped over, and was twice as wide as any regular man, was unmistakably the Simadrian named Trank. Podo was not quite sure of the identity of the second, until he caught the flash of glowing yellow eyes beneath heavily hooded lids. As the being stepped into a patch of moonlight streaming through the skylights, Podo could better make out its features. The flattened face and odd, anvil shape of the head confirmed the identity. It was S’biz.
Ducking back behind the feed containers, Podo was trying hard to control his accelerated breathing. MacKenzie huddled on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, but she still made no sound. Her courage gave him a little more hope, but not much. Podo was sure he could take either of them alone, though he knew Trank would be a much harder fight. The two of them together was a completely different set of odds.
Risking another peek, he saw that neither of them had moved into the building, obviously assessing the situation. They saw me come in here, Podo thought, but they’re not sure if I’m alone or not.
His great bulk heaving up and down with his heavy breathing, Trank fidgeted with impatience. S’biz’s yellow eyes surveyed the vast expanse of the building. S’biz was smart, far smarter than Trank, and though he was a lanky, almost frail-looking creature, that intelligence made him by far the more dangerous. It was obvious he was holding back, calculating whether entering the barn was worth the risk.
After another tense moment, S’biz backed away from the entrance. He muttered something to the Simadrian beside him who, with an annoyed grunt, began to slide the door closed again.
Podo dropped to his knees, sighing with relief. His gamble had paid off.
Then, from the storage area below, came the slightes
t, muffled sob. Podo’s breath caught in his lungs at the sound.
He heard the squeaking of rusted wheels in their tracks again from the front of the barn. Apparently, the sound had not gone unnoticed from outside.
Chancing another look, Podo saw the two thugs now stride purposely into the building. Moonlight reflected off the barrel of the heavy laser rifle Trank was carrying. S’biz’s had his head held back. Like Podo, the race of Icarians had an acute sense of smell. S’biz took a deep breath, and his head jerked up as he caught scent of something most definitely out of place in the barn. He turned toward the trapdoor.
Crap, Podo cursed. I didn’t think I could be that lucky. I guess we’re looking at a fight after all. Looking to his small companion, he thought, Please don’t let the kids get caught in the crossfire.
Behind them, against the wall of the building, a ladder led up to the hayloft above. Podo nudged MacKenzie toward it, making clear with a jerk of his stubby thumb that he wanted her to climb, where she would have a little more protection. The girl affirmed her understanding with a nod, padding over to climb as quietly as she could. She was nearly to the top when the headless doll she was clutching slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. To Podo’s chagrin, the doll let out a soft squeal of “Momma!”
Trank and S’biz turned toward the sound; Trank firing off a quick burst from his rifle that struck the rung just below MacKenzie’s feet. With a shriek, the girl scurried the rest of the way up the ladder until she was out of sight in the loft above.
S’biz and Trank charged for the ladder. Podo darted from behind his cover, firing several rounds of his own. Though Podo was not an especially spiritual being, he was happy to see that the gods were apparently taking requests this night. Two of the bursts struck the Icarian in the head and chest. S’biz let out a shriek and fell backward.
Roaring, Trank began firing relentlessly. Podo ducked back under cover, but the blasts from Trank’s weapon were quickly vaporizing the feed containers. His short legs keeping him always one-step ahead of the laser bolts that burned into the walls, Podo kept moving as Trank fired. Podo ran past the rows of paddocks, the animals inside now neighing in terror as weapons fire blasted into their stalls.
A small service door beckoned from the far end of the building and Podo put on an extra burst of speed trying for it, firing wildly over his shoulder. Lasers burned past him, too close for comfort. Trank’s heavy footfalls sounded behind him as the Simadrian gave pursuit.
Reaching the door, Podo twisted the latch. The door swung outwards all of two inches and stopped. Looking through the gap, Podo could see that it had been chained shut from the outside.
Podo could feel his stomach turn to knots as he turned to face Trank. The Simadrian was still charging, but Podo saw something larger coming up behind him through the open doorway. Its heavy footfalls shook the ground and Trank stopped and turned, firing wildly at the new threat. His shots went wide, and in the flashes from the lasers Podo could now see that it was a Phalean Strider that was barreling down on him. Morogo was sitting astride the animal, urging it on. Howling with rage, Trank fired one last desperate round, seconds before the great animal trampled him under its wide feet. Podo turned his head away to avoid watching, letting the sickening crunches he heard paint enough of a picture for him.
When he looked back, the animal had come to a halt an arm’s length away, and was sniffing at him in curiosity. Morogo wore a wide grin as he climbed down from the animal’s back, making a sweeping gesture with both arms back to where the crumpled body of the Simadrian lay. Morogo shoved his chest out with pride, as though saying, Not a bad bit of work, eh?
Podo allowed himself a smile now to match his companions. “As always, your sense of timing is impeccable, my friend. You certainly do know how to make an entrance.” Looking up, he saw MacKenzie’s head peering down at them from the loft above. He tugged on Morogo's arm. “Come on. We’ve got some survivors here who need our help.”
*
Kahr was cursing a Kleezha blue streak. Khyber had run off to recall the rest of the gang and had yet to reappear. The sounds of firefights from all around were growing more and more sporadic, and Kahr knew that most of his team was dead. I just hope that they took some of Forster's people with them.
He continued pacing back and forth along the edge of the roof, trying to spot any of his crew, but that seemed pointless. Raising the rifle he was carrying, he scanned the rooftops and the streets below with the night scope. Nothing.
Then, just as he was lowering his weapon, someone on the street below stepped around the corner of a building. Kahr raised the sight again and focused in.
Blinking, he shook his head to clear it, to make sure that what he was seeing was not some act of his imagination. After all the ways this adventure has gone wrong, this wonderful occurrence befalls me.
The being he had sighted was none other than Forster himself. That he should now simply waltz right into the line of fire was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Granted, it’s not the kind of kill I had hoped for, and Rahk will be furious for missing the chance himself, but that is his problem. Had he come along instead of huddling away in the safety of the ship, the kill could have been his instead. Even he will admit that I would be a fool to pass up such a choice opportunity.
Sighting his weapon squarely on Forster’s head, Kahr reached for the trigger.
*
Things had grown quiet in the colony as Jesse made his way through the streets. There had been only limited resistance from some of the lower-ranking Nexus members since his tussle with Feros. Indeed, the most opposition he had encountered since then was an alleyway clogged with some of the cattle that had forced their way into the colony during the stampede. His hunter’s senses had gradually ebbed, telling him that this hunt, or at least, this stage of the hunt, was almost over.
He was nearing the far end of the colony now, the section that rested along the wall of the mesa, and the great mountain was now visible above the tops of the buildings. Jesse knew the communications center was situated somewhere back along the wall. As he rounded the corner of the alley he was traversing, he saw the conduits containing the cabling for the main comm dish running up the mountain wall, following them to the secondary dish atop the comm station. Stopping short, he spied a familiar figure standing in front of the secondary dish.
Kahr. No doubt about it. The Kleezha was leveling a rifle in his direction, and he responded by raising both of his weapons.
Laser fire rang out, but not from his, or from the Kleezha’s weapons. It came from behind him, firing over his head and spraying the area where Kahr stood. Dropping to the ground to avoid being hit by the wild fire, Jesse looked up and saw Kahr duck out of sight. He turned just as the person firing ran passed him running full out, oblivious as to whether he had been struck or not. “‘Scuse me, Captain. Coming through,” the wild gunman called in passing.
“Karson!” Jesse yelled after her. Whether unhearing or ignoring him, Karson disappeared through the door to the comm center.
Getting back to his feet, Jesse saw Kahr scrambling up the access ladder that ran parallel to the cable conduits up the side of the mountain, and making good time of it. By the time Karson came into view climbing after him, the Kleezha was already near the top.
Cupping his hands to his mouth, Jesse shouted after her again, but was sure that she had actually not heard him this time. Cursing to himself, he tabbed the call button on his communicator. “Bokschh . . .”
*
Something tells me I’m making a big mistake, Kayla was thinking to herself as she continued her climb up the ladder in pursuit of Kahr. Ah hell, who wants to live forever?
The Kleezha had cleared the top long ago and was probably lying in wait for her. She knew that what she was doing was an incredibly stupid act. Granted, she had taken on bigger opponents, like Ho’jisk, but Kahr was far smarter and far more devious. If I do manage to survive this, Forster‘s likely to be so angry with me h
e might be tempted to push me from the mountaintop. She shrugged. Calculated risk.
Reaching the last few rungs of the ladder, she paused, listening. There was not much to hear. The wind up here was whistling loud enough to drown out any other sound. She risked a quick glance over the top rung, getting a look at what lay in store for her up top. The colony’s main dish sat about a hundred yards away, a large, dark sentinel, on four large legs, any one of which Kahr could be hiding behind. There were also several large boulders lying around, most likely debris from when the colonists blasted the mountaintop to install the dish. Several were large enough for two or three beings of Kahr’s size to seek shelter behind. An attack could come from anywhere. Kahr’s not the type that would just keep on running.
Taking a deep breath, she turned around on the ladder so that she was facing away from the mesa wall. In one swift motion, she levered herself up with her arms, while kicking her legs out and up. Releasing the rung, she flew up over the top of the cliff, twisting in mid-air so that she landed facing any attack. As her feet hit the ground, she launched herself toward the nearest boulder. Crouching under cover, she took several calming breaths, and listened again.
There was still no sound of any impending assault. Maybe Kahr really did keep running away from me. She could not suppress a chuckle. Yeah, right, Karson! It’s a mountaintop. Where could he go?
She snuck a quick glance out from her sanctuary. There was still no movement or sound from anywhere nearby. Kneeling back down, she looked to the next boulder a few yards away, closer to the dish array. Might as well just keep working my way forward.
Crouching like an Olympic runner, she sprinted for the next boulder. She was still a bit surprised when the attack came. Laser bursts from the direction of the dish spattered around her. One struck the ground just before her foot, and she lost her footing, veering off course. Hitting the ground hard, she went sliding towards the edge of the cliff, coming to a stop an arm’s length from the drop off. Her taser staff slid from its sheath and toppled over the edge before she could snatch it back.
The Starhawk Chronicles Page 19