Crimson Strike

by Peter Bostrom

  A mass of snarling werewolves turned to look at me, their shoulders visibly tightening. None of them wore short, dark pants, which meant they were all either civilians or soldiers who had been transformed by the Dominion. That made me hesitate for a moment. Did they deserve to die? I thought of the cams and what they would see: a bunch of alien, ferocious creatures attacking a single Peacekeeper. I guess there was truth to that—they were trying to kill me, after all.

  I fired up the electric guitar of the orange stone, then imagined another golden lasso. I twirled my gloved hand once, twice, three times and then flung it forward. In my mind, the lasso fell over the nearest wolf—a broad-chested, charcoal gray monster—and yanked the lasso back.

  As the wolf came hurtling through the air toward me, I grasped the handle of my sword with both hands and swung it forward in a long, sweeping arc. I felt the moment of impact when the glowing blade struck the werewolf and leaned into it with all my weight. There was a faint sizzling sound as the sword sliced its way through the creature’s muscular body. A moment later, the resistance against my sword vanished when both halves of the werewolf’s body tumbled to the ground.

  I heard an audible gasp from our unexpected audience, even over the noise of our battle. It looked like I’d gotten their attention, all right. Now my problem was even more challenging—how was I going to one-up myself?

  The group of werewolves that I’d just antagonized—maybe ten or so—skidded to a stop and then bounded toward me. With this many wolves attacking, and with all those cams looking on, there was only one thing left to do.

  I gripped my sword tightly with my right hand and raised my left toward the oncoming wolves, forming a pistol shape with my thumb and forefinger extended.

  This was going to look awesome.

  “ZAP!” I yelled, pressing down my thumb and bracing myself for the kickback from the massive energy bolt.

  Nothing happened. Well, that’s not exactly true—the booming trumpets and trombones of the ominous tune I was hoping for never came. The sword’s music immediately evaporated, and what came instead was the piercingly loud sound of static that echoed inside my head.

  And something else that happened—the werewolves kept charging at me. It was too late to try resurrecting the music from any of my other stones, so I did the only sensible thing.

  I ran.

  But I couldn’t run toward Theta team because that would have been super awkward, especially after ignoring Sergeant Lukyanenko. So I ran slantways into the trees with my de-activated laser sword, trying to buy myself some time.

  As I was running, I looked back over my shoulder and my mouth fell open. A few of my pursuers had stopped chasing me and had, instead, kept running straight toward where Theta team was set up. A dark-furred werewolf with silver streaks and short, dark pants emerged from the group. He leapt over the plasma fire and landed next to where Kovac and Rand had been positioned. I strained to see what happened next, but a group of trees got in my way as I ran, and I lost sight of them.

  I turned and looked over my other shoulder to see if I could double back and get to my crew. But instead of the two or three werewolves who should have been chasing me right now, there was somewhere close to a dozen. And the number grew by the second until it looked like every last werewolf was after me.

  There was no way I could turn around without getting slaughtered. So I did the only thing my panicked brain could think of. I ran straight back to where I’d entered the park.

  “Walker—what in the name of the gods are you doing?!” Patel’s voice was once again ringing in my hears through my helmet comm. “Those furry bastards are all following you!”

  “Yeah … that was … part of the plan,” I panted as I pumped my legs as quickly as they could go.

  “You idiot,” Patel immediately responded, “we’re spread way too thin! There’s no way—die you son of a bitch!”

  I looked behind me again when I sped past where Patel was stationed, and quickly wished I hadn’t. I had turned just in time to see one of her guards torn in half by a slender, light brown werewolf. Patel and her other guard fired plasma bolts at the wolf, which snarled as she broke off her assault and re-joined the group that was barreling through the trees after me.

  My foot hit something on the ground and I stumbled, but quickly regained my balance and kept my eyes fixed in front of me. I dodged a couple of large bushes, and after I’d cleared the second, I saw Lopez in the distance, perched loftily on top of Panthra.

  “Incoming!” I yelled.

  Panthra’s eyes were bright and her lips were parted slightly to reveal a sliver of razor-sharp teeth. She was already crouching in wait. Winnifred’s eyes widened at the approach of this massive, chaotic pack of recently-turned werewolves and she quickly scrambled up Panthra’s back. Lopez tried reaching behind her and shoving Winnifred off, but Winnifred clutched tightly at her coat to keep the high ground.

  I extinguished my sword and dove under Panthra’s legs. A steady stream of werewolves flowed toward us as I scrambled to my hands and knees. Panthra’s powerful paws batted the creatures away from us and the air was filled with yelps of pain and growls of anger.

  I hopped up onto my feet and hunched beneath Panthra’s ribcage. The static inside my mind had finally faded, but I hadn’t tried re-activating my sword yet—I didn’t want to accidentally burn her. So I gripped it tightly, readying myself for the werewolves to regroup and converge on us.

  This wasn’t going to be pretty.

  I wiped my soaking wet forehead with my sleeve and braced myself for their attack. But it never came. Instead, an ear-splitting howl tore through the air. A brown werewolf with a scar over one of his eyes and wearing short, black pants had emerged from the park, carrying a very large soldier over his shoulder.

  Wait—was that Kovac?

  As this lead werewolf bounded away with his oversized cargo, I saw the unconscious soldier’s massive head bouncing against his back. It was definitely Kovac. Lopez cried out. The battered werewolves nearby picked themselves up, turned away from us, and immediately took off in a dead sprint away from the park. Kovac’s large, flopping frame was quickly lost in a sea of fur.

  I leapt out from under Panthra and raised my gloved hand toward them and tried summoning my orange stone’s drum and electric guitar melody. The sound was almost impossible for me to hear over the growling of my stomach, but I tried anyway to use what little energy I had left to lasso my teammate—and the closest thing I had to a friend—back toward me. A few of the wolves at the rear of the escaping group slowed a bit, but as they ran farther away, what little hold I had on them loosened, and then disappeared completely.

  The biodome’s lights above us began to brighten, signaling the city’s daytime cycle. In the growing light, I slumped forward and stared in disbelief at the quickly receding group of werewolves as they raced toward the center of Kalliste. And now, with every last Peacekeeper soldier out here in the park, there was nothing at all to stand in their way.

  23

  CAPTAIN PATEL STAGGERED out from the park’s trees, her maroon fatigues torn in several places and exposing thin, red gashes. She looked at the fleeing werewolves in the distance, over to me with my little group, and then back at the werewolves. She gave a long blink, then turned around and tapped on the side of her helmet.

  “All teams, check in with your commanding officer and immediately attend to the injured. We’ll load as many as we can into our transports to shuttle them back to base.”

  She tapped her helmet once more, muttered something unintelligible from this distance, then spoke again. “HQ, this is Captain Patel. Force another mandatory lockdown notification onto every single civilian screen in the city, immediately. And have the medics prep extra rooms—the medical wing won’t have enough beds for all of our injured.”

  A transport rumbled through the park entrance and stopped beside Patel. She turned and looked sharply at me, but didn’t say a word. She just climbed up the co-pilot
’s side and slammed the door. A moment later, the transport spun around and headed back into the park.

  Lopez slid down from Panthra’s back and turned to face me, her eyes wide. “Was that—was that Kovac they carried away?”

  I lowered my head. “Yeah. It was.”

  “How could that even happen?” Lopez’s voice was getting louder by the second. “You didn’t leave him and Rand when you came running here, did you?”

  I just kept looking at the ground.

  “Did you?!”

  I looked up slowly and then nodded.

  Lopez’s face immediately grew philosopher’s stone red. She wound up to punch me, but Winnifred grabbed her arm at the last moment.

  “Get off me!” Lopez yelled as she shook her arm violently out of Winnifred’s grip.

  Winnifred quickly stepped between us, her arms held out wide to keep us apart. Lopez slapped her hand away. “How could you let him go?!”

  “I didn’t ‘let him go,’” I said quickly. “I tried pulling him back, but those things were too fast and he was too far away and I didn’t have enough energy left.”

  Lopez took a step back and shook her head, looking back toward where our teammate had disappeared. “Kovac . . .” she said softly.

  Heavy boot steps sounded behind me and we turned to see Rand running toward us, with blood stains across the front of his fatigues. One of his arms hung loosely by his side, while the other strained to carry Kovac’s vibro-hammer. When he reached us he dropped the hammer, bent forward, and panted loudly.

  Lopez ran to Rand’s side. “Oh my God, Rand—are you okay?” She gently touched his shoulder and he whimpered in pain.

  “I think . . . it’s dislocated,” he said between heaving breaths.

  He looked up at us and continued, “The creatures . . . absconded with Kovac . . . and annihilated . . . Theta team . . .”

  Then, looking directly at me, he said in an uncertain tone, “Why . . . did you . . . go in . . . alone?”

  I kicked the ground in front of me. “I don’t know—I guess I thought doing something unexpected would throw them off and give us the upper hand.”

  My stomach growled again. I fumbled weakly with my pockets to find some food, but came up empty.

  “Wait a second,” Lopez said. “You went off on your own and made the situation worse for Kovac and Rand? And then you abandoned them?!”

  I took a deep breath, then exhaled. “I was trying to protect civilian reporters and then draw the werewolves away from Theta team, okay? It just didn’t go as planned.”

  I was about to admit I was wrong and apologize to my team, but my eyes were drawn to Winnifred’s gorgeous frame standing beside Lopez and I couldn’t help but remember what it had felt like when she kissed me.

  “But I could have pulled it off,” I continued, “if I didn’t have to keep worrying about everyone else caving under pressure.”

  Lopez breathed in sharply. “You really are one self-centered son of a bitch,” she said slowly. “I guess Patel’s rumors weren’t wrong about you, after all.”

  I was already feeling terrible, but those last words destroyed me. My insides felt like they were being twisted so tightly they were about to snap.

  Then I heard the snap. I instinctively reached for my stomach, but quickly realized the sound wasn’t coming from me. Instead, the snapping of branches came from behind us as all three Peacekeeper transports pulled around to the front of the park, followed by a dozen or so soldiers in a tight formation, their faces flushed with fear and exhaustion. As the lead transport pulled up next to us, Patel opened the co-pilot’s door and leaned out. “Okay, Private Rand—get in. We aren’t going to have anyone marching who’s injured.”

  “Yes, Captain,” he said.

  “I’m coming, too,” Lopez said. “It’ll keep me from killing Walker.”

  “Fine. Just get in,” Patel said. Then, giving me an icy stare, she said, “Walker—you bring up the rear with your pet. Understood?”

  “Yes, Captain,” I said as I climbed onto Panthra’s back. “I’ll make sure nothing attacks us from behind.”

  “I will ride with you,” Winnifred said.

  Lopez shot her a plasma cannon-grade glare as she helped Rand into the back of Patel’s transport.

  Patel sighed. “Fine—she’s officially your problem. If you get stabbed in the back, it’s your own damn fault.”

  As soon as Patel climbed back into the transport, I heard her voice come in over my helmet comm. “Keep close to the transports, soldiers—we don’t want to lose anyone else. Look alive!”

  The transports took off at just under a quarter speed, and the soldiers behind them started to jog to keep up.

  Winnifred leapt up behind me onto Panthra’s back and swung her legs around in one smooth motion, like she’d done it a thousand times. She wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned forward so that her chin rested on my shoulder as the convoy began.

  “You know the reason they treat you like that is because they are all jealous of you,” she said behind me. “You must be the most powerful being in the system.”

  “Really?” I said. I thought about how, even though it was tragic that Kovac had been kidnapped, none of them were giving me credit for anything good I was doing. “Yeah—Patel’s definitely jealous. And so are all those other troops who think it’s my use of the power stones that’s provoked the Dominion to attack us.”

  I thought for a moment as Panthra padded down the street. “I don’t know—maybe even my teammates are a little jealous of my powers.”

  The streets were eerily silent as we moved forward, the only noise coming from the quick-marching soldiers ahead of me.

  “There is no ‘maybe’ about it,” Winnifred said. “I have seen how quickly so-called friends can become enemies as soon as one of them receives a little power.”

  We passed a pair of civilian bodies that were eerily pale, with gaping wounds near their necks. The Red Dragon and his vampires had definitely been through here.

  Winnifred continued. “Even if it is not immediately evident, their jealousy is still there beneath the surface, festering—waiting for the perfect moment to strike.”

  More bodies littered the side of the street, this time with claw marks twisting their bodies into grotesque shapes.

  “I have seen it countless times where I come from,” she said. “When you have power—real power—you can no longer trust those closest to you.”

  “But,” I said, “they’ve stuck with me, even when the other soldiers have been such jerks.”

  “Exactly,” she replied. “They know how much power you really have. They know that you will certainly climb the ranks of leadership, and they will do anything to use your rising power for their own purposes.”

  I sat in thought for a few moments, rocking slightly from side to side as Panthra trotted forward. What if she was right? I’d never made any real friends on Nix before I figured out how to use their philosopher’s stones when the Dominion appeared. My team hadn’t cared that much—or at all—about me before then. But now they were always around me.

  I was about to ask her more about the world—or worlds—that the Dominion ruled, but was interrupted when the convoy stopped after rounding a corner on the left. Over the sound of the transport’s engines, I thought I heard yelling. The soldiers in front of us rushed forward to take up a defensive position—we were in no condition to attack with all of these injured soldiers on board the transports and with the rest of the soldiers exhausted from the battle.

  I nudged Panthra to turn and my eyes darted around the empty streets, graffiti-covered walls, and old transports that had been abandoned on the side of the road. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  Winnifred spoke from behind me. “Staying back here is useless,” she said. “Are you going to let the other soldiers up there have all the fun?”

  I swallowed hard, afraid of what might lay ahead. I patted Panthra on the neck and said, “Come on, girl. Let’s go se
e what’s happening.”

  We bounded alongside the idling transports on the right-hand side of the street until we could see what lay ahead. About a block in front of us, a line of fierce-looking civilians stretched across the street, armed with pieces of metal, synthetic wood, and large rocks. A dark-skinned man in gray coveralls with wild hair that stuck out at odd angles stood squarely in the center of the mob. His reddened eyes were fixed on the lead transport.

  Captain Patel’s voice sounded over the lead transport’s loudspeaker. “You are in violation of a mandatory Peacekeeper lockdown. I will give you to the count of three to return to your homes. Otherwise, we will put you under arrest and try you as enemy sympathizers. One—”

  The soldiers on the front line yelled things like, “Dirty civvie,” and “Go inside and wash up.” The civilians in line shifted and narrowed their eyes, but stayed put.

  “—Two—” Patel’s voice boomed from the transport.

  The wild-haired man took a step forward and shouted, “We’ve had it with your bullying! It’s time you took us civilians seriously.”

  He raised a broken baseball bat high into the air and held it there like a flag.

  “—Three,” Patel said.

  “Never!” The man yelled. As he brought his broken bat down for all to see, the frenzied mob rushed toward the transport.

  24

  “MONSTERS!” ONE OF the soldiers yelled as he raised his plasma rifle. The rest of the front line raised theirs, too, at the loud mob of civilians wielding makeshift weapons.

  Stanton’s authoritative voice boomed, “Hold!”

  But only a few of the soldiers lowered their weapons as the angry group kept rushing forward.

  “Let’s put ’em in the dirt, where they belong,” someone else called out.

  I gripped Panthra’s coat tightly and yelled into her ear, “Stop them!”

  Panthra let out a deafening roar—so loud that it rattled the windows of the buildings on either side of us. Everyone froze. She went into a deep crouch, then sprang high into the air. I grabbed her coat even more tightly, and Winnifred squeezed my waist so hard I thought I would lose feeling in my legs.