Syndicate Wars: The Resistance (Seppukarian Book 2)

by Kyle Noe

  “At some point, they’re going to be finished with us, Giovanni. You know that, don’t you? They’ll have extracted what they can, and then what’ll we be?”

  “Leftovers,” Giovanni said with a smirk.

  Luke shook his head. “Here I am bitching about life and death, and you’re cracking jokes.”

  “Somebody needed to lighten the mood.” Giovanni tried to look in the other direction, but Luke leaned in close. “I worry about you… about us. That’s all.”

  “Somebody needs to go and get Samantha. They’re probably out of fuel by now and being tracked by an enemy with more firepower than they have.”

  “Like Hawkins isn’t capable of handling it? The man was a Texas Ranger for Chrissakes. He’s used to dealing with impossible situations.”

  They shared a laugh, and then Giovanni matched Luke’s lean-in and kissed him hard. It was a kiss that, if he died out there, would be the memory his mind would flash back to, he was certain of it.

  “You… couldn’t come with?” Giovanni whispered, pulling away and resting his forehead against Luke’s.

  “I have fighters to lead, a responsibility here.”

  Giovanni nodded. “Yeah, of course. Do me one favor while I’m gone.”

  “Anything.”

  “Keep an eye on Xan.”

  “She’s never around,” Luke replied, pulling back and narrowing his eyes in confusion.

  “You know what I mean. She’s a badass and a valuable asset, but I worry about her. Sometimes I think… she’s got too much to prove.”

  “Looks like you’ll have to keep an eye on her yourself.”

  Luke gestured toward the other end of the garage. Xan was visible, clutching her rifle and an enormous backpack.

  “We’re ready to roll!” she shouted.

  Before Giovanni could utter a word in response, Xan turned and disappeared down into a stairwell. Luke grabbed Giovanni’s arm and turned back to the open space, the outer edges of downtown Vegas still glowing as it was still under attack by the Syndicate.

  Luke laid a hand on Giovanni’s leg. “Promise me you won’t go that way.”

  “I promise,” Giovanni replied, his fingers crossed behind his back.

  MOMENTS LATER, Giovanni marched back down toward the Gurkha where Xan and Mackie were just about finished loading weapons and supplies, including the damaged HUD helmet the Marines had left for communications purposes.

  Giovanni helped Xan lift a final barrel of fuel into the back of the Gurkha. “Seems like we’ve had a mission evolution, eh? I had no idea you were tagging along.”

  They lifted the barrel and placed it into the back of the Gurkha.

  Xan slammed the rear hatch shut. “The beauty of the resistance, Giovanni, is there’s no real chain of command. No head to kill so the body always survives.”

  Giovanni knew that wasn’t fully true. Sure, that was the official structure, but without Luke’s strategies, they were hopeless. “I still should’ve been briefed.”

  “Did I hurt your feelings?” she replied, batting her eyelashes.

  Giovanni’s eyes found Mackie who shrugged. Xan smiled and smacked Giovanni on the shoulder.

  “Besides, you boys need someone to keep watch over you on a long and dangerous drive.”

  “You’re our guardian angel now?” Giovanni asked.

  The smile slipped from Xan’s face. “More like the angel of death.” But no one laughed.

  They climbed into the Gurkha. Mackie situated himself behind the wheel, grinning at Giovanni who took the shotgun seat. Xan perched on a bench in the back.

  Mackie opened a small bottle and popped a handful of pills. “Adderall,” he said. He offered some to Giovanni and Xan. “The A-Train, baby. You wanna partake?”

  Giovanni deferred. “I’d prefer to be drug-free when I meet my maker.”

  Mackie chuckled. “You got no faith in your boy Mackie, huh?”

  “We gotta run the gauntlet,” Giovanni replied.

  Mackie pursed his lips. “I’ve gone through worse.”

  “Name it,” Giovanni said.

  Mackie grinned. “Four years with my ex-wife. Makes what we’re about to do look like a piece of cake.”

  Giovanni and Xan laughed, and Mackie toed the gas, listening to the machine’s six-hundred horses race away under the hood. He wedged a lollipop in his mouth and wrapped one hand to the steering wheel with an Ace bandage.

  “You ready, boys and girls?” he asked Giovanni.

  Giovanni nodded and flipped on a pair of night-vision goggles. “Let’s do this.”

  The Gurkha thundered out of the garage and drove across the median. Giovanni held his pulse rifle by his side, watching the darkened sections of the cityscape whip by. Because of the earlier Syndicate attacks, only a handful of thoroughfares were passable. The resistance had tried to clear debris using loaders and bulldozers, but there were only so many places to store the detritus of the alien bombing runs. Accordingly, the Gurkha was going to have to drive down Las Vegas Boulevard which would force the trio to drive right through the area where the Syndicate troops were currently conducting sweeping operations.

  THE THREE RODE IN SILENCE, staring out at the pitch-black buildings, the dormant casinos, clubs, and once-glittering restaurants and bars. Mackie began rhythmically tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming a beat.

  Giovanni pointed. “What is that? A song?”

  “Yep. My own creation.”

  “You used to drum?” Giovanni asked, obviously amused.

  “Nope, but that was always a dream of mine. Had a thing for drummers, even when I was little. Liked the way they stayed in the background, but held the whole thing together, y’know?”

  “The ones driving the beat?” Giovanni asked.

  Mackie nodded. “Pulling the strings. Something to be said for not being flashy. You’re like that, I think. You stay in the shadows, but you get the job done.”

  Giovanni smirked. “That a compliment?”

  “Close as I usually get to one.”

  Giovanni smiled, and Mackie glanced at him. “Meant to tell you before. You don’t gotta worry about your thing with me, by the way.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Giovanni replied.

  Xan groaned from the rear seat. “C’mon, Giovanni, it’s all good. You’re with friends. We’ve all seen the way you and Luke look at each other, and it’s all good.”

  Mackie nodded. “Hey, man, I’m not offended—”

  “I’m super glad to hear that, but—”

  “Live and let live’s always been my motto.”

  Xan smacked the back of Giovanni’s seat. “It’s BS,” she said. “Mackie here has still got the hots for your girl, Quinn. And he figures being cool with you might get him an ‘in’ if we ever do pry her free from the Syndicate.” She chuckled. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

  Giovanni glared at Mackie. “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re not really her type. She’s more into, how do I say this nicely… intellectuals.”

  Mackie grinned. “I can play smart, if need be.”

  Giovanni groaned right as Xan screamed, “LOOK OUT!”

  Giovanni turned back quickly enough to see a woman run out in front of the Gurkha, close enough to kiss the bumper. Tires screeched as the truck slid past her, wobbling down the road. The three of them traded brief looks, then Giovanni opened his door and looked back. The woman, who was a real stunner with red hair and high cheekbones, was standing in the middle of the street, staring at him. She was clad in a dress that looked painted on, her eyes enlarged. She looked like she’d just come from a party and was drunk, utterly confused. Xan leaned out her window and smiled.

  “Luck be a lady, Mackie.”

  Mackie laughed. “Thank God we’ve got enough room for one hitchhiker, Gio.”

  Giovanni wasn’t laughing.

  He was too busy studying the woman. There was something wrong, something off about her. At first, he assumed
she must have taken shelter from the Syndicate attack and was disoriented, but then she lifted her head and stood ramrod straight. She appeared to have suffered a wound, but barely acknowledged it, her arm limply hanging at an odd angle. Giovanni wondered whether or not she’d hit the bumper and bounced off. He squinted and saw what he thought was a significant laceration at the juncture where her bicep met the area around her elbow.

  Xan was muttering something to him, but Giovanni wasn’t listening. He was too busy scrutinizing the woman’s arm which was bleeding.

  The woman took a halting step forward, into a pool of moonlight and Giovanni gasped.

  She was indeed bleeding, but the blood was white, a steady stream of it spritzing from a gash in her arm!

  “Go…” Giovanni said softly, almost to himself.

  Xan looked up at him. “What the hell are you about—”

  “I SAID GO!” Giovanni called out.

  The woman’s face contorted, her features twisted in a masque of rage. She began running toward the Gurkha. Giovanni screamed, “SHE’S A COPY!”

  Mackie stood on the gas pedal as the truck leapt forward, swerving down the road. Giovanni was tossed against the dashboard. He grabbed his rifle and looked out his open window. The woman was running faster than any human would be capable of. Her arms and legs chopped the air as an unholy sound echoed from her mouth as she screamed and pointed.

  Giovanni shouldered his door open, and Xan was already aiming her rifle. He watched her fire at the woman.

  The first two rounds from Xan’s rifle flew wide, but the last one caught the woman in the stomach. The impact drove her back through the air. She landed on her ass and skidded to a stop, staring down at her belly which had been torn open. Giovanni could see the insides, a mass of glistening, white tubing. The woman rose, and she lifted an accusatory finger and then—

  BOOM!

  She exploded, her body disintegrating, carving a hole in the road. The wave from the blast scything out, shattering the rear window on the Gurkha.

  “Jesus, God,” Mackie intoned, fear-gripping the wheel, righting the Gurkha before it veered off and crashed into several junked cars. Giovanni pivoted and looked up. The Gurkha was now speeding forward, shooting through the clusters of fire and plumes of smoke that seemed to be smothering everything.

  Syndicate drones were visible off to the left, hopping over walls, smashing through fences, firing at dark forms that took shelter in and around a patchwork of deserted office buildings. Periodically, those being pursued would return fire and then there’d be an all-out gun battle. The drones would strafe the buildings, blasting them apart until nothing moved.

  Giovanni watched one of the drones hop onto the roof of a low-slung building, prowling and looking for targets. A metal orb protruded from the turret of the drone, angling toward the truck.

  “I’m already on it,” Mackie said.

  He sawed the wheel and juiced the truck, then had it slingshot down an alley. Giovanni climbed out his window and looked back. All was dark and still, and then something toiled in the smoky, semi-darkness. The drone was coming, plodding forward, hopping over fences and then it happened.

  There was a flash, then a burst of orange light and—

  BOOM!

  A section of a building next to the truck disappeared in an ear-shattering blast. Fragments of cement rained down on the Gurkha.

  “It’s firing at us!” Mackie shouted.

  “Thanks for the news flash!” Xan shouted.

  Mackie cursed, flipped the wheel, and gunned the engine. The truck was motoring down another alley that lay between rows of ranch houses. The drone gave chase, hurtling stone walls and firing tracer rounds from its chain gun.

  The Gurkha blitzed down the alley, Mackie screaming while twisting the wheel, easing up on the gas at certain moments and jamming on the pedal at others. The truck swerved through a maze of urban switchbacks and, at one point, Mackie drove through a chain-link fence, rumbling over someone’s backyard.

  “We can’t outrun it!” Xan bellowed.

  Giovanni looked back and realized she was right. There was no way they’d be able to outpace the pursuing drone. The machine was too agile, too fast, and too heavily armed. Their only chance was to ambush the goddamned thing.

  “Stop the truck!” Giovanni shouted.

  “Are you insane?!” Mackie said.

  Giovanni pressed down on Mackie’s knee until the truck gouged to a stop at the side of the house.

  Giovanni kicked open his door. “Keep it running.”

  Mackie’s eyes found Xan’s in the rearview mirror. “You were right. You said the bastard was certifiable.”

  Giovanni smiled darkly and exited the truck with Xan by his side.

  “Can I borrow a grenade?” Giovanni asked.

  She unclipped one from her tactical belt and flipped it to him. “Hope you’ve got a plan.”

  He nodded. “Trying to come up with a greeting for our friend.”

  “Need a little overwatch in the meantime?”

  Giovanni nodded as Xan trotted toward the end of the yard and took up a firing position near the fence. He watched her ready herself to shoot at the drone while he moved to offload several barrels of gasoline from the back of the Gurkha. Once finished, he stabbed the barrels with a knife and kicked them into the pool. Next, he grabbed a grenade and placed it on top of the flotation device that bobbed in the middle of the water.

  “IT’S COMING!” Xan yelled back.

  Giovanni watched her open fire, pounding the approaching drone with rounds from her rifle that bounced off the machine’s armored turret. The drone responded from only fifteen yards away, raking the backyard with wild fire. Xan retreated, and the pair climbed into the Gurkha.

  “Drive,” Giovanni said. “Slowly. Stop on my signal.”

  The drone came fully into view, rampaging toward the yard as the Gurkha smoked off, driving around the side of the yard.

  “STOP!”

  Mackie jammed on the brakes, and Giovanni leaned back. He placed his rifle on Xan’s shoulder and aimed through the broken rear windshield. He could see the drone peering at him from the lip of the pool. Its chain gun was slowly rotating around, one of the alien controllers visible atop the drone, partially hidden under a bubble top on the machine’s turret. The alien appeared to be grinning at him.

  Giovanni offered a middle finger to the alien. “Fuck you.”

  The drone wheeled a final time, and Giovanni pulled his trigger.

  A single shot was loosed from his rifle.

  BAM!

  The grenade on the flotation device was hit dead center, and two things happened almost at once. It exploded, showering the drone with shrapnel that tore through several of the machine’s vital hydraulic cables, and the blast birthed a fireball from the gasoline that devoured the entire backyard.

  Giovanni watched as the drone heaved and bucked and then took several halting steps before it tipped over into the pool. A geyser of flames speared across the yard, the surface of the pool, and the drone. Whatever combustible fluids or gases were housed inside the drone also caught fire, causing a hundred other, smaller fires to erupt.

  Mackie pounded the steering wheel, exhilarated at the sight of the burning drone which thrummed and then exploded, launching the machine’s turret up into the air.

  Giovanni pulled back his rifle as Xan smiled.

  “You were meant to be here, Gio,” she said. “I mean, that was real magician shit back there.”

  He grinned, and Mackie bumped his fist.

  “So, what do you got planned for your next trick, ace?” Mackie asked.

  “You’re gonna have to wait and see.”

  He pointed forward and Mackie nodded. “Shiloh or bust, baby.”

  15

  THE HUNTED

  Samantha sat in the back of the truck, buffeted by the winds that blew down from the serrated mountains that loomed in every direction. It was dusk, and she’d heard Hawkins say that they wer
e heading east and then due north, making for the outpost he called Shiloh, which was situated atop an old Air Force base in Wyoming.

  Eli moved over and sat down next to her. “How you feeling, kiddo? Strong?”

  “Aside from a touch of PTSD, I’m peachy,” she quipped.

  “Was that a joke?”

  “I’ll have to ask my team of psychiatrists when this is all over.”

  He smirked and leaned back. “Only reason I ask is because these are unique times.”

  “Understatement of the century, Eli.”

  He nodded. “I mean, ordinarily you’d be in school and playing with your friends—”

  “I never really had any friends.”

  He stared quizzically at her. “What? Seriously?”

  She shrugged. “We were always on the move, mom and me. Besides, she always said a person hardly ever has any true friends. Just allies and enemies mostly.”

  Eli held her look. “What does that make me?”

  “Definitely not an enemy.”

  He smiled. “You ever want to talk about anything you’ve seen, you just let me know, okay?”

  “I’m cool.”

  “I know you are, but it never hurts to talk about what you’re feeling.”

  She looked at him sideways. “Did you ever have any kids, Eli?”

  “No, ma’am. Y’ see, most ladies want to plant roots, and me, well, my sail has always been set to the passin’ wind if you catch my meaning. Why do you ask?”

  “Cause I think you would’ve made a great dad. I mean, you’re a bit strange, but cool.”

  He blushed and looked away as a sound built in the distance. The shriek of metal grinding against metal, and the thud of ordnance exploding. Hawkins was on his knees, finger over his lips. He pointed, and Samantha and Eli looked up to see a broad sweep of orange light in the distance. Almost as if the entire horizon was on fire.

  Hawkins grabbed his rifle. “Get fierce,” he whispered to them. “Get fierce.”

  The trucks moved slowly over a pass in the mountain highway. As they crested a rise, they could see the land that spooled out before them. The road they were on continued down through a maze of dark forest and then emptied out into a broad plain. At the end of the road, perhaps ten miles away, was a wall of flames that was sweeping from left to right like a great wave. Syndicate gliders were visible, conducting air-to-ground operations. Samantha could see the machines firing missiles and dropping bombs as whatever resistance elements existed on the ground returned fire.