by M. R. Forbes
She had lost too much and was hurting too much. The more he tried to get her alone, to get her to open up, the more she withdrew. She said she didn't blame him for Matteo. That might have been true in the first few days. He knew that was bullshit, now. They had known one another all of their lives and had always shared a connection through her brother. Now that he was gone, the connection was gone.
It would have been harder to take if he didn't have Ehri.
As much as he tried to deny it, as much as he wanted to make it about the mission, and about the war, he couldn't help the feelings that were prompted whenever he was near her. Whether they were talking about human or bek'hai society, or simply sitting in silence, her very existence grew more important to him every day. He often found himself ruminating on the kiss they had shared back in the silo. When he had done it, he had thought that it was because he wanted to win her over to their side, and maybe he had. Now he wanted to do it again for the emotional value and connection. To show her how he felt.
Love? That might have been taking things a little too far. He had a definite crush on her. It was a strange feeling, one that made him both excited and uncomfortable. She was a replica of General St. Martin's wife. That fact alone made it strange. He also didn't know if she felt the same way. He was certain they were friends, but beyond that? She had never treated him in a way that suggested anything more. Was it because she didn't know anything about it? Or was it because those feelings just weren't there? It was maddening for him to think about, and at the same time, he wasn't going to make any romantic move on her.
They had enough problems.
They scaled the wall, dropping down into a narrow alley. Donovan turned when he reached the bottom, reaching back and helping Doc Iwu down. She was doing her best to hold her own, but she was older than the rest of them by at least twenty years, a child during the invasion. She struggled to keep up at times, though she had done so with the same poise and dignity that came so naturally to her.
"Thank you," she said, reaching the ground.
"Of course," Donovan replied.
Diaz was on point, her hand up to keep them stationary in the alley. Donovan could see by the way her head was darting back and forth that she was trying to find a route through the rubble. Their goal was to locate a market or a shelter, or some other building that may have been holding canned food and hope that it hadn't already been picked clean.
They had to be careful. The Dread weren't the only concern. There were plenty of random groups of humans who would rather prey on one another than wage war against the common enemy. General Rodriguez had always referred to them as jackals.
Diaz signaled for them to wait and then took off at a run, crossing an open area and ducking back into another narrow alley. She turned around when she reached it, looking back at them. Then she motioned them to get down.
Donovan dropped with the others, ducking into the shadows as a Dread fighter streaked over the position. The flybys were common in the morning and evening. They had been rare at this time of day.
It wasn't a good sign.
Seconds passed. Donovan finally stood and motioned to the others to do the same. Diaz was on her feet on the other side. She waited a few seconds before signaling them to cross.
Donovan stayed in the rear, covering them as they passed the wider passage. They made it across without incident and then ducked a minute later when another Dread fighter went over.
"Do you think they spotted us?" he whispered to Ehri.
"I don't think so. They're moving too fast."
"D, look," Diaz said, pointing toward the sky.
A Dread transport had appeared behind the fighters. It was moving much slower, and coming in low enough that Donovan could make out the ripples of the armor that covered it.
"You're sure they haven't seen us?" Donovan asked.
"As sure as I can be," Ehri replied.
"Major," Iwu said. "Something's moving over there."
Donovan crawled to Iwu. She was near the corner of the rubble, also on her stomach. He watched as two people ran across the open area. They were dressed in rags and filthy. Scavengers.
The transport shifted direction, turning slightly toward them. Plasma cannons released rounds of bolts that decimated the area, raising a cloud of smoke, dust, and debris. The transport continued, disrupting the rising cloud as it passed and allowing Donovan to catch a glimpse of the scavengers.
They were both dead.
"There must be a small settlement here," Diaz said, joining him. "They'll have already picked the markets and pantries clean, but at least we can use the cover to get through the city."
Donovan looked back at her. "We should help them."
"Are you loco? There's five of us against an entire transport of them, plus two fighters."
Donovan considered, and then slid back to where Ehri was positioned. "If we can get to that transport, would you be able to fly it?"
"If it has been modified for lor'hai use, yes. Not all of the transports have."
"How can you tell?"
"If the transport only contains clones, it is likely that I can fly it. Otherwise, there is a good chance it has a drumhr pilot."
Shouts echoed in the distance, along with sporadic gunfire. Donovan had to make a decision. Escape the city on foot, knowing it would take them at least another sixty days to reach Austin, or make a play for the transport.
"I say we go for it," Soon said, unprompted. "We're already beaten and hungry, and if we manage to win?"
"If we manage to win, we'll piss off the Domo'dahm more than he is already," Donovan said. "That might be a mistake."
"He sent an entire transport to kill the people here," Ehri said. "Listen."
Donovan did. The gunfire was random, and already decreasing in volume.
"They aren't soldiers. They aren't fighters. He's destroying them anyway. He wants to kill every last one of us."
"Us?" Donovan said, surprised by the remarks.
Ehri froze for a moment, having surprised herself. Then she nodded.
"This is our war, Major. Let us fight."
TWENTY-THREE
Donovan crossed over a smaller pile of debris, turning the corner, leading with the end of the Dread rifle. The shouting and screams were louder now. Closer. They had closed the gap between the fighting and their original position, though the Dread transport was still out of sight.
He looked back at Soon, using the hand gestures he had taught the pilot to direct him around a separate pile of rubble. Then he glanced over at Ehri, pressed against a solitary standing wall to his left. He saw a Dread clone ahead of her, facing away from them. He signaled her a warning.
A soft whistle beyond his line of sight gave him Diaz's position. He had sent her to find the transport and report back if she saw any of the bek'hai, an indication that they might not be able to use the vehicle. Not that it would stop them from attacking. It was almost too late for that.
A clone came around the corner, shooting at something Donovan couldn't see. He was cautious with his power levels, taking the few seconds to aim before pulling the trigger and sending a bolt into the clone's abdomen. The enemy soldier fell.
Now it was too late.
Ehri broke around the corner, taking the clone by surprise. She didn't shoot him, using the rifle as a club instead. She hit him hard in the jaw, knocking him over. She fell on top of him, letting her weapon fall to her side and freeing her hands. She shifted on him, twisting his head with enough force that Donovan heard the crack of his neck. She grabbed her rifle and sprang back to her feet, signaling the all clear to him a second later.
It wasn't clear on the other side. An entire squad of clones had appeared ahead of Soon. One of them must have spotted him, because he was crouched behind the rubble, staying clear of the incoming plasma fire.
Donovan gestured to Ehri, and they made their way around the position, getting a better angle of attack on the soldiers. They fired in tandem, efficiently dro
pping them one at a time. Soon stood when the shooting stopped, giving them the thumbs up.
Diaz whistled again. Donovan ran to Soon's side.
"Head back to Doc Iwu, help her through this mess," he said.
"Yes, sir," Soon replied, falling back. "Thanks for the save."
"Anytime."
Donovan and Ehri went forward in the direction of Diaz's signal. He didn't know how she managed to evade the enemy so well, but he was glad for it.
A scream close to their left forced them off course. Donovan made his way past a somewhat intact building, spotting the scavengers before he saw the soldiers. They were trying to hide between two old cars, the plasma fire keeping them pinned down and frightened.
The soldiers never saw him or Ehri coming. Two plasma bolts dropped them, freeing the scavengers.
One of them was too scared to move right away. The other stood.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"The resistance," Donovan replied.
"The resistance is gone," the woman said.
"Who told you that?"
"Our leader, Murphy. He said that the base in Mexico City was wiped out and that the Dread are sending their armies after the rest. He said even the peaceful settlements and the jackals weren't safe. That's why we were trying to hide here. We thought we could escape their attention." The woman paused. "That's one of their weapons, isn't it?"
"Yes. Whatever you heard, it's wrong. The resistance isn't over."
"There were rumors someone had gotten their hands on Dread weapons, and that they were killing the bastards. I guess that's you." She smiled. "It may be too little, too late, I'm afraid."
"We're not going to let it be. Do you know where the rest of your people are?"
"That way," she said, pointing in the same direction as Diaz. "We had a few guns; maybe we'll take some of the clones with us. We can't do anything about the others, though."
"Others? Did you see the Dread?"
"I saw one. He killed my husband. He went that way."
"You might be safest to stay here for a while."
"What's your name, son?"
"Major Donovan Peters, ma'am."
"I'll pray for you, Major Peters. For as much time as I have left on this Earth. God bless you."
Donovan nodded, breaking off to join Ehri. She was standing behind another building, watching the field ahead of them.
"It looks like they've pinned down a small force over there," she said, pointing at a small zone where a group of scavengers and clones were trading fire. "Diaz is positioned over there." She pointed behind the clones, toward a thirty-foot pile of debris that had once been a skyscraper. "I think the transport is behind it."
"The woman told me she saw a bek'hai. We might be out of luck."
"What do you want to do?"
"What can we do? We've already committed. We'll try to make it to the transport and hope for the best."
"What about the others?"
Donovan knew she meant the scavengers. There was a good chance that helping them would bring the remaining bulk of the bek'hai clones to their position.
Donovan shifted as Soon and Iwu came up behind them, joining them at the wall.
"We got three of them," Soon said.
"Not before they killed two more civilians," Iwu said.
"They're all going to die like that," Soon said, noticing the firefight.
"You want to stop it, Captain?" Donovan asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Okay. Circle to that corner. Ehri, wait here with Doc Iwu. I'll head to the left and try to get to their flank."
Diaz whistled again. It was a sharper tone. She was asking them to hurry.
"Forget that," he said. "There's no time to get fancy. Conserve your ammo, watch out for friendlies. Follow my lead."
Donovan closed his eyes for a moment. The woman had blessed him.
He hoped it helped.
TWENTY-FOUR
He moved out from behind the wall, sprinting towards an old car thirty meters away. The others followed behind him, joining him in the race.
One of the Dread clones must have noticed them, because a plasma bolt burned past his head a moment later, followed by two more. Then the return volleys began, Soon and Ehri returning fire, disrupting the attack and giving him a chance to reach cover.
They crouched behind it, the Dread offensive now split between them and the scavengers.
"I think I hit one," Soon said, pressed against the car beside him.
"We can't stay here," Ehri said. "Move."
She grabbed Donovan's arm, pulling him away from the car. Why? They would die as soon as they left cover.
Soon and Iwu followed them without question. Bolts cut the air around them, and then a heavy stream of burning energy blasted into the car, the Dread fighter streaking past as it finished its run, leaving the wreck in smoldering slag. Donovan looked back to the clones. One fell. Then another. To his left, the scavengers were breaking cover, going on the offensive.
"They're rallying," he said, stopping his retreat. They were open, too open, but they might not get another chance. He started shooting back at the Dread, careful not to waste the bolts he had remaining. He hit one, and then a second. He looked up. The fighter was circling back, coming in for another run. It would cut them apart.
"We need cover," he said.
Ehri noticed the fighter. "There isn't any."
"Back toward the scavengers."
He led them toward the human position, tracing the outskirts of the battlefield. Bullets and plasma bolts were filling the air with obstacles. There was nothing they could do but run.
They reached the line, where dirty men and women fired at the Dread with century-old pistols and rifles. They were surprised by the newcomers, but they didn't stop attacking.
The fighter streaked over, plasma cannon firing and slamming into the center of the human militia. Screams and shouts followed, along with smoke and debris.
"This isn't working out for us," Donovan said.
"I need to reach the transport," Ehri said.
"What if you can't fly it?"
"Then we're dead anyway."
Donovan frantically scanned the line of scavengers. There were only a dozen of them left, standing resolved in front of a stairwell.
That was why they hadn't run. They were defending something. Children, if he had to guess.
"Murphy," he shouted. "I'm looking for Murphy."
One of the men turned his haggard face in Donovan's direction. Donovan ran over to him.
"I need cover fire. A lot of it. From here to that corridor over there. Can you do it?"
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Murphy asked. He was a big man with tattooed arms and a thick beard.
"I know you have children down there," Donovan said. "Maybe women, too. Lay down some cover fire, and we may all be able to survive this."
Murphy didn't look convinced. He shouted to the scavengers anyway.
"Keep them covered. Keep it clear."
Donovan retreated to the others. "Ehri, let's go."
She stood, following him as he ran across the open field.
Bolts whizzed past them once more, diminishing as Murphy and the scavengers organized their fire. Soon joined them, sending plasma digging into the enemy position.
Donovan's heart was racing, his legs burning as he streaked across the field with Ehri beside him. The sprint seemed effortless to her, legs moving steady and strong to keep pace.
He heard the fighter coming, swooping in behind them. Ehri heard it too. They fell forward, pausing their run, tumbling on the ground as the plasma beam slammed into the ground ahead of them, close enough that he could feel the ionized heat of it. He rolled to a stop, wasting no time pushing himself up. Ehri did the same, falling in beside him. They were almost to the narrow corridor between the buildings.
Somehow, they were still alive.
They reached the wall, breaking free of the firefight, hurrying to the other
end of the decimated building. The front of the transport became visible as they did, angled slightly toward them. It reminded him of a hornet with its sleek, angry face.
There were no soldiers near the transport that he could see. It looked as if it had been landed and abandoned, the entire contingent of the soldiers disembarking into the fray.
"We made it," he said through heavy breath, too excited about the outcome to stay silent. Ehri was pacing ahead of him, rushing to the open platform into the vehicle with an abandon that surprised him.
Humans were dying, and she wanted to stop it.
"Lor'el shur!"
The shout from behind them broke Donovan's train of thought, and caused Ehri to pull up to a fast stop in front of him.
They turned to face the source at the same time.
An armored pur'dahm, cradling something in his arms. He threw it to the ground as they looked his way.
Donovan couldn't breathe.
It was Diaz.
TWENTY-FIVE
"Lor'el shur," the bek'hai repeated, his helmeted head turning from Ehri to Donovan. "Come back with me, un'hai," he said to Ehri in thick, growling English. "No more humans have to die today."
Donovan stared at the body on the ground in front of the pur'dahm. Diaz's limbs were twisted unnaturally; her head limp on a broken neck. His entire body was numb and tingling. His mind was nearly blank.
He had known Diaz almost their entire lives. She had gone from annoying kid sister, to valued Lieutenant, to what, exactly? He didn't know. Ehri had come along, and everything had been happening so fast.
It didn't matter now. She wasn't just dead. She was broken. Treated like a toy and used as an example by the Dread Warrior.
Ehri was making her way back toward the bek'hai. Her face was stone, but her eyes betrayed her anger. She and Diaz had never gotten along, but to Donovan they had been more like bickering sisters. They shared a level of respect if nothing else.
"Come with you? I'll kill you, Til'ek," she said.