Book Read Free

Fire, Ruin, and Fury (Embers Saga)

Page 51

by Matthew Taylor


  “Jasmine’s down there!” She yelled to the door-gunner, who gave no indication that he had heard or understood her. Her stomach flipped as the airship suddenly banked left, then right, and dropped down to land with a crunch. To her horror, Patrick jumped out of the ship with a handful of assault troops. She couldn’t stop herself from standing up to see. She watched Patrick pace among the bodies on the street, kneeling down beside the ones that moved or groaned, bullets snapping past him. As his soldiers fired wildly, he checked vitals and signaled which ones should be carried out, and which ones should be abandoned or euthanized.

  His soldiers loaded up half a dozen more wounded, including Jasmine, Billy, and Nanner before Patrick signaled his crew that it was time to go. He climbed back aboard and sat down next to Emily, who leaned over the shell-shocked and weeping Jasmine, stroking her hair. A guard gave Jasmine a cursory examination, passed Emily a reassuring thumbs-up, and moved on to the next injured person. She could have kissed him, but the ship banked again and rocketed over the grasping, leafless tree-tops and lurched forward in its haste to escape.

  Expecting to land moments later at the Seven-Corners Command Center, Emily was surprised when their flotilla of airships and drones sped past it, only a few gunships breaking off to protect the building.

  Why aren’t we stopping at the nearest place for help? She then realized the facility would likely come under attack, just as the Dominion Hills outpost had. And then there was Patrick, son and heir of great Thomas Baumgarten, all this way south with soldiers in combat.

  “Patrick,” Emily muttered, reaching out for their young savior.

  He crouched down in front of Emily and Jasmine and took Emily’s hand. “She’ll be fine,” he said. “We’re gonna get you back to the estate.”

  “What on earth are you doing here?” Emily couldn’t think of any better question. “Does your father know you’re here?”

  “He’s the one who says that if we can’t offer basic security, the commoners have no reason to stay in their place. …If I had known he was sending you out this far, I never would have allowed it.”

  “But how—” Emily interrogated.

  “We were at a command center outside Blacksburg when we heard of violence spreading out from Rosslyn. I then found out you were here, but our forces here are stretched. I’m not even sure we can hold this place, even if you all had made all your repairs. …So we made a detour.”

  Patrick smiled at Emily, but before she could ask him any more questions, or throw her arms around him as she desperately wanted to do, his attention fled to a call from the pilot. He planted a small kiss on her forehead and made his way to the cabin. She didn’t see him the rest of the flight from Arlington to Harrisburg, which was a harrowing sequence of sudden evasive maneuvers, muzzle flashes, decoy flares, and the tell-tale exhaust trails of rockets snaking through the air. The glow of fires illuminated the plumes of smoke rising up from the highways, trails, shanties, and towns. Emily’s stomach sat in her throat, her knuckles going white as she squeezed her armrest.

  Chapter 46: Battle for Troy

  (Victoria Lancaster)

  Victoria Lancaster clung to the earth with Brady Saussa as a flock of the township’s aerial drones dove on their attackers, skimming the road and tree tops, machine guns blazing, before climbing again into the hazy sky. She breathed deeply during the few fleeting moments of silence until their angry buzzing came around again. Over and over. They looked to her like winged black crabs, and though they were presumably keeping the marauders at bay, each pass unnerved her. She dared not get up, for whatever the drones were hitting would surely kill them—if the drones themselves didn’t.

  It felt like she’d been laying on the side of the hot gravel road for hours, bullets snapping overhead, before a small group of Civ-Defs charged through the gate toward them. Seeing them coming, she instinctively jumped to her feet, pulling Brady up with her, and stumbled forward towards her erstwhile rescuers. The first soldier to reach them slipped himself under Brady’s arm to help carry the burden. The next two raced past, rifles slung over their shoulders, unspooling razor wire across the span of the trail and casting dozens of small remote-controlled mines onto the ground. Finally, a fourth defender pried Brady from her clutching hands, leaving her feeling oddly light and free, until he shoved her forcefully toward the gate.

  Finally inside the wall, Victoria took in the view of complete chaos in the town. The plaza was choked with people, running every which way, huddling over bodies, dragging water hoses toward burning buildings, carrying ammunition and canteens to the weary guards on the wall. Her escorts propped Brady against the inside of the wall, along with other injured citizens, and bounded up a nearby flight of stairs to resume the fight. Bewildered and disoriented, Victoria trudged over to an empty spot next to Brady and sank to the ground, exhausted.

  After a brief respite, she regained her focus and started tending to Brady’s wound as they waited for the overworked medics to make their way down the line. The sight of the medics made her think of her mother, who was probably doing the same work in an overcrowded makeshift infirmary. Victoria had just applied a new bandage on Brady when she heard her name above the din.

  “Vic!”

  Grimm Lockheart was scrambling down a staircase, flitting through the throngs of soldiers and citizens to her.

  “I’m so glad you’re OK!” Grimm smiled through the sweat and dirt on his face.

  “G-Grimm?” she stammered, struggling back to her feet and throwing her arms around him. Victoria didn’t know Grimm well, but she was so desperate for consolation that he felt like a brother. “Was th-that you on the wall?”

  He nodded, with a forced, anguished smile as he wiped the sweaty hair from his face. “It’s fucking crazy in here.”

  “It’s crazy out there too,” she sighed, still a bit confused at seeing him inside the township walls. She was too tired to ask, though, as a medic muscled past her on the way to treat Brady.

  “Grimm, I need to find my mom,” she stammered.

  Grimm’s face went ashen.

  “What?” she demanded, peering over his shoulder in the direction of the infirmary building to find columns of black smoke billowing over the rooftops.

  “Vic, the infirmary got hit. They got through the walls on that side of town. We’re still fighting there to push ‘em out.”

  Victoria felt her ears go hot as angry determination came over her. She broke from Grimm’s embrace and without a word, pushed past him and set off into the crowd. She stopped a boy struggling to carry three rifles to the wall. “I need a gun,” she shouted.

  Eager to lighten his load, and clearly scared out of his mind, the boy clumsily released one of the weapons from his grip, letting it fall into her grasp.

  Only one magazine. That’s not enough, she thought as she inspected her prize. Before she could stop the boy again, he had vanished into the crowd.

  Undeterred, she spied a young girl lugging a satchel, brimming with ammunition. She recognized her as Penelope VanDerGott—Penny—from the Track.

  Victoria stepped into Penny’s path and extended her palm to demand bullets. Penny stopped cold and looked blankly into Victoria’s eyes, her cheeks smeared with dirt and tears. Victoria, realizing her error, kneeled down, put a hand on Penny’s shoulder, and stared reassuringly into her eyes as she fished into the satchel with her other hand to find the right magazine. The child’s eyes welled with tears. Victoria leaned forward and kissed her dirt-streaked forehead.

  “Where’s Cassandra, Penny?”

  “I—I don’t know,” Penny answered, lip quivering as tears began to meander down her cheeks.

  Victoria always had the sense that Penny wasn’t especially happy with her guardian, Cassandra Prescott, whom Victoria herself found to be stern and off-putting. Penny spent a fair amount of time with Victoria and her family as a result, and they had come to think of her as one of their own. Still, to be a child completely on her own in this bedlam ha
d to be terrifying.

  “Well, Penny, you’ll have quite a story to tell after this, won’t you?” Penny stared up at her, bewildered by the comment. “You have a super important job today, so you need to be very brave. Understand?” Penny nodded, with a forlorn look of abandonment. “Now run along with your satchel, but I want you to meet me right back here on this spot at 17:00. I’ll help you find Ms. Prescott. OK? Will you meet me here later?”

  Penny nodded and wiped tears off her cheek as Victoria nudged her along. Penny started walking toward the wall, looking back at Victoria every few steps.

  “I’ll see you right here later,” Victoria called out, waving her on until Penny finally turned and ran to the wall, satchel swinging at her knees.

  God, I hope I’m still alive to be here at 5:00. I could be dead in a ditch by then. Why’d I say that to her?

  “Vic, where do you think you’re goin’?” Victoria had forgotten about Grimm, who had followed her and finally caught up.

  “I have to find my mom,” Victoria answered sharply, annoyed at having to repeat herself. “She was in the infirmary.”

  “It’s in flames, Vic,” he said, voice cracking. “We can’t get there.” Victoria looked again in the direction of the infirmary. “I’m sure she’s OK, but it’s bad, Vic,” he said, imploring. “They’ve breeched the walls, and I heard most of our drones are gone. “Shay’d skin me alive for saying this, but we have to get to our rally points, like everyone else.”

  “I need to find my mom.” She glared at it him more sternly, marshalling the most determined expression she could. “I’m going to find her. I’ll get to my rally point once I find her.”

  Grimm rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose. “OK,” he said reluctantly. He peered around to see who was watching. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Grimm, no. That’s not what I meant,” she insisted.

  “You’ll need me to get there,” he said. “Besides, we’re gonna need all the medics we have, and Shay’ll kill me if he found out I let you go off alone. But you need to sit down and rest for a few minutes—”

  “Grimm—”

  “Non-negotiable,” he said. “We could get stuck on the way there, or on the way back. We’ll need water, a little food, and more ammunition. Didn’t you learn anything in your fancy civ-def classes?” He tried to smirk.

  “OK,” she relented, guiltily sitting down against the wall. She leaned her head against the concrete and closed her eyes. “You get the stuff; I’ll wait here.”

  “No shit,” he mocked and made off through the crowd in the plaza in search of supplies.

  Victoria snapped-to, as if from a dream, a few minutes later to find Penny wagging a canteen in her face.

  “Thank you, Penny,” she croaked.

  The bedlam in the plaza had not relented, and Victoria wasn’t sure if she had dozed off—or how that would have even been possible. There was shouting everywhere and the crackling of gunfire beyond the wall. Through the haze of smoke floating in the streets, she could still make out a column of smoke from where the infirmary was. The town siren, echoing through the streets and alleyways, punctuated her consciousness again, and she felt sick to her stomach. She poured a bit of cool water from the canteen into her cupped palm, splashed it on her face, and rubbed it over her tired eyes and neck.

  Penny stood next to her staring.

  “Thanks, Penny. Go help the others. I’ll be fine. 17:00, right?”

  Penny nodded, visibly relieved that Victoria remembered their date, then ran off into the crowd.

  Holy shit, Victoria thought to herself, wiping another palmful of water over her face and neck.

  “Vic!” Grimm called from across the plaza. He ran toward her, satchels full of gear swinging from his arms and shoulders. Lowering himself onto his knees in front of her, he unloaded the equipment at her outstretched feet.

  “Day-packs. Nutri-biscuits and water. First aid pouch. One smoke grenade each. One frag grenade each. Cobra rifles, three mags each.”

  “How’d you get these?”

  How is it that you haven’t been detained? You’re not even a resident.

  He glanced down knowingly at the bright green band tied around his arm.

  She smiled, glad that someone had the good sense to deputize him into the Civ-Def when the shit hit.

  “How ya feelin’?” he asked, out of breath.

  “About as good as you’d expect. You look like you took a beating yourself,” she quipped.

  “Pretty much,” he smiled, pushing back his long, sweaty bangs before forcing himself to his feet and extending a hand to help her up. “Ready?”

  “Ready.” She took his hand and forced herself up, only to swoon, double over, and vomit onto the pavement. Then, as if nothing had happened, she straightened up and wiped the puke and spittle from her chin. “What’s the best way to get there?”

  Grimm looked askance at her, dubious she could make the trip. She returned his glance with a look of defiance. She could tell he wanted her to sit down again, but he thought better than to say it. So they started off through the crowd together—across the plaza and into the narrow streets toward the infirmary, coughing and gagging on the smoke and stench as they went.

  Bullets popped and cracked from the guards manning apartment windows above them, followed by a rain of dust and masonry debris as the return fire inevitably came. Victoria cowered instinctively next to a dumpster, shaking and dry-heaving. Grimm lifted her upright again and urged her forward down the alley. At every intersection, bullets snapped by their heads as they scrambled through the barricades.

  Confronted with a nest of razor wire, Grimm charged into a nearby apartment and came back with a cut of carpet, which he threw over the top of the obstacle so they could get over.

  Emily’s an idiot not to love this boy, she thought, thanking God he was there. The township’d better reward him if we live through this. She was even more grateful when he stopped on the other side of the razor wire barrier to give them a breather.

  “You OK?” he asked.

  “Peachy,” she replied.

  “Good. Almost there.”

  Victoria looked around to get her bearings. Though she had walked the route a thousand times, the sprint had been a blur, and she was disoriented.

  They weaved through the last two blocks and crouched at the corner of last apartment building before the clearing in front of the infirmary. Her heart pounded in her chest, sweat dripped from her hair, and her head throbbed. Rifles at the ready, they peeked out from behind the wall to find the infirmary half smashed, its roof collapsed and fires still burning inside. The township’s small ambulance was a blackened ruin in its parking spot. The front doors to the building, scorched by fire, sat in mangled pieces on the ground. Charred bodies and body parts littered the rubble. The smell of sulphur, burnt flesh, melted plastic, and chemicals almost made her wretch again.

  Pacing forward in shock, she looked down at one of the bodies. “Doctor Rodriguez,” she muttered.

  “How can you tell?” Grimm replied.

  “The hat next to him. He always wore that ridiculous cowboy hat.”

  The shouting, gunfire, and explosion fell from Victoria’s consciousness as she moved slowly, methodically through the ruins, forcing herself to examine every broken body. With no sign of her mother, Grimm offered an encouraged look.

  “OK,” he said. “C’mon. She’s prob’ly with the triage crews at the wall. We need to get you to your rally point.”

  Victoria wasn’t ready to give up her search, though, so she started down the street toward her family’s small apartment building. “We live this way.”

  Grimm shook his head in disbelief, hunching low and training his rifle back and forth in search of any threat.

  The township’s sirens wailed, and she paused under a stoop to listen to the codes.

  [Medical personnel to Compound Sector Five]

  [Fire crews to Compound Sector Two]

  [T
ier 3 citizens to Compound Shelters]

  [All others to designated rally points]

  No evacuation signal, she thought. But as she smelled the smoke and watched the ashes and embers float around her, a dread of inevitability crept over her.

  Up to then, she had managed to compartmentalize her family’s horrible trek from California-Sur, consciously focusing on her school, work, fitting in, and stealing time with Nanner whenever he was around. But the reality hiding in the dark recesses of her mind had broken through. The madness of the Wilds had finally penetrated her world, re-introducing itself with pent-up fury.

  Grimm chewed his lip, and she could see the conflict within him. He and his family had been denied residency in the township—just as she had been before they saved Alias Goodwell. Grimm dealt with it better than her brother, Paul, but his opportunity was now. It was an accident that he had been inside the walls—probably on some errand for the work site—when the attack began. Now, if the township survived, and he was recognized for helping saved it, he and his family would almost certainly be granted residency. But here he was, risking that recognition to help her find her mother, who had already gotten her break. If they lost, the township would be gone.

  As perverse as the thought was—especially with her own waning hope of victory—she had to get him back to the fighting as quickly as possible.

  Five minutes to the apartment. Five more back to the plaza.

  She grabbed his wrist and pulled him onward.

  Chapter 47: Blood and Faith in Salt Lake City

  (Alias Goodwell)

  Alias Goodwell nearly vomited as the convoy rounded the last bend and pulled up to the gate of the Silver King Cathedral in Park City. When the single armed guard waved them through and they came to a stop, Alias toppled out of the truck’s sliding side door and sucked in the cool, fresh air, trying to stay his restless stomach. Ben helped him to his feet and led him towards his mother, who was already racing to them from the front door. Camila threw her arms around Alias, and he nearly wept from the relief of being safe in his mother’s loving arms.

 

‹ Prev