“Shouldn’t fuckin’ matter,” Jean said with some exasperation. She cut to the front and caught Kim by the forearm as he tried to inch away. “Please,” she begged. “You’re like me. You made it here from Earth, didn’t ya? You know the kind of shit we’ve gone through, and we ain’t stopped runnin’.”
“Jean.” She wasn’t sure who spoke the first time.
“We ain’t askin’ for much,” she continued to Kim. “Just a room for the night an’ a bit of discretion.”
She wanted a sign, anything—just a fleeting sense of sympathy. The bristles in his arm had snagged the skin of her hand, as Jean had known would happen when she caught him. Still, she held fast, hoping for some sign from him. But all Kim wanted was his arm back, only he didn’t dare pull it, knowing it could hurt her more. Instead, he gently uncurled her fingers, and at this rejection, Jean didn’t fight him.
“I’ve been scared of hurting people all my life.” He practically shook as he told her. “I can’t bring you into my home because I have to warn the Reahv’li and it would be wrong to lie to you.”
“Jean,” someone called to her again.
There was a commotion forming behind her, but Jean looked at the man in disbelief. There was no sympathy for what suffering they had in common. And yet the terrified look in his eyes was all too familiar. Despite what hardships they had endured on Earth as half-humans, they were no longer alike.
“It’s time for us to go.” Flynn was tugging at her arm, and Jean turned to find the meager populace of Kodo had converged on them. All were unarmed, but for their disapproving faces.
“You know who we are?” Chari’s query was stoic and bold.
“By reputation only,” an Omati woman replied. “Ours is a town of good people, and we face you knowing the sort of storm you bring. We ask you to simply leave; we don’t need your brand of trouble.”
“Trouble?!” Jean was incredulous. “We didn’t walk in here stirrin’ shit up! Hell, you all seemed perfectly welcomin’ till you got a better look at us. Half expected a goddamn feast, long as ya thought we were one of you.”
“How dare you act so self-righteous?” the woman protested. “You entered our town under false pretense—”
“Fuckin’ right we did!” Jean bellowed back. Flynn tried to catch her by the arm, calm her down, but she threw him off without even a glance. “Been runnin’ for our damn lives all day, be doin’ it again tomorrow! Not that you’d know what that’s like—” She glanced back at Kim, to add, “Or if ya did, you’ve forgot.”
“Would you grant us safe passage?” Chari asked the ringleader. “That we might leave as though we were never here?”
Another in the crowd bristled at the proposal. “We will be informing the Reahv’li the first chance we get! Do not take our unwillingness to fight as permission for the atrocities you seek to commit.”
Jean felt herself tensing up, her muscles locking, her breath intensifying. A voice in her mind was begging, screaming, that one of them throw the first stone. It was infuriating to find herself surrounded and unable to lash out.
“You would come to kill our god!” one boldly accused.
Jean snapped. “The fucker would kill us first chance he gets, and you’d be eggin’ him on!”
“No,” the Omati woman said, shaking her head in disgust. “We would never—”
“Don’t give me that shit, you two-faced bitch,” Jean growled. “One look—one fuckin’ look!—and you marked us different. And you know what? Fine. Fuckin’ fine. We’re yer goddamn enemies and you damn well better fear us ’cause the only way you’ll feel safe is once ya know we’re gone. But don’t you dare—don’t you fuckin’ dare pray for us to die and still think that makes you the good ones.”
Elements of the crowd had stepped back, but a few of the more vocal members held their ground. “There’s no blood on our hands,” one confidently proclaimed.
Jean clenched her fists, heavy with soot and blood. This was a mining town, and beneath her feet were tunnels, weakening the earth. She could bury everyone in Kodo alive, and despite her guilt just a few hours earlier, she wanted to. Badly. But if she killed them here, she would only be the monster they thought her to be. She’d met an enemy she couldn’t rightly destroy, one that unfairly vilified her into inaction but would not redeem her for it.
“Clear the way,” Chari ordered the bystanders. “Or I start shooting.”
When Flynn took Jean’s arm to lead her out, for a moment, she thought he was Mack. There was something in the way he touched her that eased her temper and reminded her that she still had friends who cared. It didn’t quench the loneliness, but it helped.
Some distance from Kodo, down the dark trail where they searched for some hole to crawl into for the night, Shea was heard to say, “Terrias, eh?”
“I still kinda like it here,” Zaja replied quietly.
*
The events in Kodo had dashed any aspirations of reaching Yeribelt unknown, for even in the most remote towns, they were notorious. Even had they dared think themselves heroes, Chari knew the six were seen as little more than killers and thieves here. They seldom remained anywhere for long, and only happened near settlements long enough to rob them. Most times, this happened covertly, but others, it was at gunpoint.
Whoever she’d been once, Chari suffered no guilt in taking from these people, and if anything, felt that what was theirs should be hers by right. During calmer periods, she wondered if that was how her father had felt during his crusades, as the Saryu armies marched to force the gospel of Hapané on nonbelievers. But where he’d had the escort and assurances of his fellow soldiers, Chari and her companions were only accompanied by contempt and fear.
“It’s unfathomable that any would choose to live here,” Poe said.
Chari withdrew from the scope of her rifle. She’d become more accustomed to seeing Terrias through it than her own naked eye. She left her weapon where it lay, the rain dripping from its barrel to the distant ground below.
She considered not giving a response. Poe was surveying the barren lands to the west and the mountain range that crested them, and didn’t appear to be looking for one.
“Their god is here,” she replied. “It doesn’t matter if Terrias is Heaven or Hell. They would greet it just the same, and think themselves blessed.”
Poe nodded heavily. “Then be it Heaven or Hell, when this matter is done, we will have robbed them of it.” Chari cocked her head, bewildered by his comment. “If I may show you something?” he asked.
She went to his side, looking out toward the western mountains. Chari studied him, smelled him, but he seemed no different than in all their months of travel. She knew what he had attained, but doubted Poe had changed at all.
“Do you see that crest in the ridge, Chariska? It forms below the peak, but melds upward and into it. A closer study reveals impact lines, as if something proportionally smaller struck it. A body. I could not tell you whose.”
She would need the scope of her rifle to make out the finer details, but Chari was able to discern enough to keep pace with the conversation. “It is damage caused by the clash between Rousow, Renivar, and Kwarla.”
Poe nodded. “From what we see, I suspect they were only here for moments. I know not who held the losing hand in that instant, but that reckless damage has scarred the mountainside for centuries.”
Scars? she asked herself. Since when is he so concerned with scars? The one on the back of her leg had been inflicted without a single thought.
“Why do you pretend?” she asked.
“Pretend at what?”
“Compassion,” she replied. “To be compassionate. To care. You didn’t care before, save for honor and power. There is no profit to be had in feigning so now.”
Poe’s just looked at her, stone-faced.
“Do you do it so we’ll think better of you?” she implored. “If you have risen above us, there is no need for you to care. Or do you aspire to be some benevolent god, e
ven while striving to kill another who thinks himself the same?”
“I do not claim either,” he said at last. “That Taryl Renivar must be removed from his post has not changed, nor have my aspirations toward the nobility of such an act. What I have gained is not benevolence, but perspective: these structures around him will not vanish with his fall. It is necessary to bear that in mind, to find the best resolution for the inevitable aftermath.”
Chari didn’t believe there was any authenticity in Poe’s words. He had been too ruthless, too single-minded in the past to suddenly change now. She turned her back to him and returned to her rifle. She would have been content to leave it on the ground, but she saw something that warranted a closer look.
Through the scope, she saw a half-dozen Reahv’li soldiers, doubtless on patrol. Her companions were out gathering supplies or scouting ahead, and there was a danger they could run afoul of them. Her finger slid near the trigger; she still had to adjust for the wind and rain.
“It might be better to kill them all,” she said to Poe.
There was a disturbing silence.
“What has changed you so, Chariska?”
The question did not distract her from her task. She had fought for her life, seen war, been forced to return home from it. A great many people on TseTsu might be better off dead, but the dictates of her society painted such action as unethical. At least their teachings could not spread.
“Tell me, Guardian … what do you think Saint Renivar’s worshippers will do when he is gone?” She took her first shot, but the mark was off. One of the Reahv’li fell, wounded, and the others crowded around to protect and tend their comrade. This is better. She returned to Poe. “Do you think they will simply accept the outcome you have forced upon them?”
“I don’t expect them to,” Poe replied. “But the reality will assert itself.”
“You’re certain? Let us call this what it is: Taryl Renivar has founded a religion in worship of him. Even if the Living God is no longer living, that faith will not die. Prophets will surface, promising a second coming. Should his followers remain on Terrias, we’ll have given them a global stronghold, for we already know they possess the means to reach other worlds. If all are forcibly returned to their homelands, his influence shall find its roots in our descendants.”
Chari took a deep breath, and accounted for the conditions. She could hear the electricity crackle, smell the burning as the bullet was propelled from her rifle. The chamber by her forehand heated up, converting the surplus scrap inside into ammunition even as her second shot connected and a Reahv’li soldier fell.
“It is still a solution misguided and twisted,” Poe replied. “Even at my worst, I was not so craven that I would slaughter an entire population en masse.”
“You possessed neither the power, nor the pretense,” she countered. “Now you have both.”
As Chari felt the warmth of another shot fired, she appreciated why the Reahv’li rarely employed firearms: it put distance between predator and prey. It made killing easy.
“Renivar’s worshippers deny themselves both these things,” Chari told Poe. “Instead, they entrust it all to their Living God, who shall enact a greater holocaust than either of us might imagine.”
“What you propose is hideous … yet elegant.” Poe’s concession came only begrudgingly, and it was not a promise of action.
It’s psychotic, Chari reminded herself. She held no illusions about the nobility of what she was suggesting, only knew that it was necessary. Once, Poe would have understood, but she had misjudged him, and she no longer recognized the man she’d seen by the windows of den Vier Manor, handsome and solitary. She couldn’t believe she’d ever considered using him. He felt disgustingly naïve.
*
Long before she ever saw the cascade of blue light falling on Borudust Castle, Shea had expected to contribute nothing to the cause. She had limited confidence in her skill as a soldier, and in that, she was not wrong. When the bullets had hailed from above, Trynan countrymen at her side, she was not among those charging bravely forward. She’d cowered and run.
But bravery would not win the war they now fought, nor would bullet or blade. Deception was their most finely honed edge, and while Flynn spread lies to innocent travelers and throughout small towns to throw their pursuers off their scent, it was Shea who’d helped them hide whenever someone got too close. It was she who kept their nerves calm even while wanting to scream inside.
No bloody cannons, she reminded herself. ’Least there’s no bloody cannons.
No matter what barriers their enemies had erected, they had broken through. Half the Reahv’li were in their wake, still searching futilely for their god’s intended assassin. Those who were ahead were scouting the expansive perimeter of an unwalled city of tents, spread too thin to pose an immediate threat, but still too numerous, considering the distance that remained.
When she returned from reconnaissance, Shea was craving a cigarette. She’d resisted the urge to light one up in recent days, ever since the rain stopped; their enemy was close, and the smoke could give them away.
“How’re things looking?”
Flynn waited for her answer, and she paused before giving it. Since that night on Cordom, she’d been keeping some distance, regarding him as more her commanding officer than dear companion. She still wanted to speak with him more familiarly, but it was better this way.
“Not good. Terrain’s erratic, so patrol’s erratic. We manage to slip in, still be hell to avoid. Bright spot, none near. Time to plan ’fore they come ’round again.”
They were crouching in a hovel made of the remnants of an old stone wall. It commanded a poor view of the land, but it was the nearest safe space before the final stretch, and one that the Reahv’li had satisfied themselves as being unoccupied before advancing to the next sector.
“Still say we should just rush the place,” Jean suggested. “This damn close? Only a dozen miles, give or take.”
“After what happened on our way to Thoris?” Zaja asked. “No. Just … no.”
“Wouldn’t be that bad,” came the reply. “I mean, it’s just one army.”
Protocol had taught Shea to wait in silence, at attention. But this wasn’t her army, and her comrades weren’t soldiers. They were unorganized and undisciplined, and however much importance Shea placed on Flynn as leader, he held that rank only tenuously.
“Maybe not rush in,” Shea suggested cautiously, seeing his apparent dismissal of Jean’s proposal. “But ambushes? Lie in wait, strike, move, re—”
“That would leave bodies, and bodies would create a trail,” Poe interrupted. “On better terrain, perhaps. But here, there would be no means to hide them.”
“Practiced hiding bodies, mate?” Shea teased. The look Poe shot caused her to promptly step back.
Poe turned to Zaja and Jean. “There is no means around?”
Zaja shook her head. “Yeribelt completely encircles Borudust Castle, so I’m guessing the Reahv’li are covering everything encompassing it. From what I remember, the terrain is pretty much the same in every direction.”
“However we’re to get through, we can’t let the Reahv’li chase us,” Flynn said. “A few we can handle, but if we’re running…”
“We’ll tire out before we reach Yeribelt,” Chari finished. “I know. I’ve been pondering the same.”
“Any ideas?” he asked her.
“None you’ll favor,” Chari said as she stood up, rifle held firmly in both hands. “There is no passage through undisturbed. What we need now is not some clever avenue, but a simple diversion to draw the Reahv’li from your path.”
Your? Shea immediately knew what Chari was proposing.
“I won’t have it,” Flynn told her firmly. “We’re not dividing—”
“Should … actually.” Shea spoke softly, but still garnered attention. “Sound plan. Draws notice from core unit.”
“There’s a formation nearby that will serve as a snip
er’s perch,” Chari explained. “For the breadth of this valley, I can only cover the outer rim, but it may make all the difference if you are quiet and quick.”
Flynn seemed pained, and shook his head as though struggling with the idea. “We’ve made it this far together…”
“As six,” Chari pointed out. “Those in our path number in the thousands, and we’ve not the familiarity with the terrain to make a difference.” She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Have faith. I’ve become a capable markswoman under your tutelage.”
Despite her assurances, Flynn wouldn’t look Chari in the eye. Shea understood why; it was tantamount to sending her to her death.
“There is a flaw in your plan,” said Poe.
“And that is?” Chari asked.
“It does not utilize me.”
“Bloody point’s to get you there,” Shea countered. “Not cut to kill a god myself.”
“And I will meet my destiny soon,” Poe replied. He spoke to Chari. “Take your perch. The valley, the Reahv’li, and their wrath—those are mine. When I have drawn them beyond range, or if our nemeses draw near, abandon it and trail our comrades.” Before any objections could be made, Poe turned to his other allies. “However earthly this husk may seem, a god is shelled within it. My skills are waxed, my senses are heightened, and unlike my foes, I shall never tire.”
“They’re an army.” Zaja’s protestation was worried and weak.
“And I’ve no intent to fight them all. I shall draw them, and slay only those who prove difficult. And I’ll run.”
Flynn hadn’t objected, but he hadn’t spoken in support either. From the look on his face, Shea knew this wasn’t sitting well with him. He had done so much to keep his friends protected and whole, and on the cusp of this last act, he could guarantee neither.
“Might live if we do it,” Shea told him. “Likely die if we don’t.” She raised her hand. “Second the motion.”
Killers, Traitors, & Runaways: Outcasts of the Worlds, Book II Page 41