by M. R. Forbes
Nathan found Jaycee’s tent in the corner. He started toward it.
“What are you doing?” Doc whispered. “I thought you wanted to leave?”
“I do. I need a guide to the Crosston camp.”
“He’s not going to let you take one of his people out there at night.”
He glanced back at her, his eyes steel. It was a sharp enough look to cause her to freeze in her tracks. “Yes, he will.”
He reached the tent, leaning over to unzip the entrance. He ducked inside. Jaycee had a full mattress. He was asleep on top of it; another nomad curled up against his chest.
“Jaycee,” Nathan said. He tapped the man’s foot with his boot. “Hey. Wake up.”
The other nomad woke up first. He was surprised to find Nathan there, and he shoved at Jaycee to wake him up.
“Jaycee,” he said. “Jay.”
The nomad’s leader opened his eyes. He froze at the sight of Nathan.
“So that’s it?” he said. “You came to assassinate me? That’s why you’re here? I was trusting you, after what you said before.” He didn’t look frightened. He just looked angry.
“No,” Nathan said. “But I do need a guide to the Crosston camp.”
Jaycee sat up, looking over at Doc as she entered. “I thought you were staying put.”
“Change of plans,” Doc said.
“If I send my people out there with you at this time of night, they’re as good as dead.”
“I won’t let them die on the way there,” Nathan said.
“What about after?”
“Can’t your horses outrun the trife? If not, then what’s the point of having them?”
Jaycee stared at him.
“I need to get to the Crosston camp. I’m going to get to the camp. You can give me one person and two horses to get me there, or you can resist and I can kill you, your lover, and whoever else tries to stop me. Do the math, and then get up.”
Jaycee got to his feet. He didn’t look happy, but he grabbed a robe from a small chest on the floor beside the mattress and slid it on.
“Come with me,” he said.
He left the tent. Nathan still wasn’t sure if he was going to give him the guide and horse or if he was going to raise an alarm. There were enough nomads to kill him and Doc, but he would make sure he took out a good number of them first if that was the move.
It wasn’t. Jaycee brought him to an area near the horse pens, where a dozen men had placed their belongings and were sleeping on the floor. Billiard was among them.
“Bill,” Jaycee said. “Billiard.”
The large man opened his eyes. He looked at Jaycee. Then he noticed Nathan. He seemed to know immediately why he was being disturbed. “Aww. Shit. Jaycee, you can’t be serious.”
“Sorry, Bill,” Jaycee said. “I need you to take Nathan to the Crosstons. He’ll protect you on the way there. Bring Thunder. She’s most likely to get you back alive.”
“What if I say no?” Billiard asked.
“You might die on the way there or on the way back,” Jaycee replied. “You will die if you don’t go.”
“Message received,” Billiard said. He groaned softly as he pushed himself to his feet. He was only a few centimeters shorter than Nathan. “I freaking hate you.”
“I don’t care,” Nathan said. “Just get me there.”
Billiard grabbed his hunting rifle, and then he walked over to the horse pen. He found the two horses he wanted, leading them out to Jaycee. Then he grabbed saddles for each, putting them on.
“Ever ridden a horse before?” he asked.
“I’ve never even seen a horse before today,” Nathan replied.
Billiard sighed. “Okay, then I’ll drive. You hold on tight and don’t fall off.”
“Got it.”
Billiard mounted his horse easily. Jaycee stood beside Nathan. “Put your left foot there, push up and swing your right leg over.”
Nathan did as he was instructed. The horse shifted as he tried to swing his leg over, almost causing him to fall off. He held on, getting into the saddle while the nomads laughed.
“Not bad for a first time,” Jaycee said. “Billiard, get there and back as fast as you can.”
“That’s the plan,” Billiard said. He took the reins of Nathan’s horse and signaled Thunder into motion.
“Good luck, Colonel,” Doc said.
Nathan waved back to her. The nomads had intentionally left the path clear between the pen and the gate, and Billiard led them back to it. The guard looked surprised to see someone leaving at night, but he moved the gate aside and let them pass without comment.
“I hope you’re a good shot with that thing,” Billiard said, pointing at Nathan’s plasma rifle as they rode up and into the street.
“You’ll get there alive,” Nathan said. “I promise. After that, it’s up to you.”
“What’s so important about this Sheriff guy that’s got you so desperate to reach him, anyway?”
“He has my wife’s wedding ring. It’s the only thing I have left of her.”
“Stole it from you?”
“Yes.”
“The Iron General stole my wife from me. Eight years ago.”
“I know I look like General Stacker, but I didn’t do that.”
“Yeah. You came to stop it, right, man? I seen the Iron General’s face. You don’t look like him. You freaking are him. Same face. I swear it on my wife’s memory. How is it you never seen a horse before, either?”
“It’s a long story. I’m sorry for your loss. I am. The general promised me he’s done taking people. If his plan works, he’s going to free you, me, and everybody else from the trife. Maybe it will have been worth the sacrifice when he does?”
“If he can do that, it’ll be nice,” Billiard said. “But no, it’ll never be worth the sacrifice.”
Chapter 43
The footfalls of the two horses echoed in the empty streets, a loud clomping sound that reverberated off crumbled stone and broken shells before bouncing back and multiplying.
Billiard was leading them through the empty city at a fast trot.
A slick of trife followed them.
They had come the way the trife always seemed to. Nathan had spotted a few in their path, and he had aimed and fired, taking them out ahead of their passing. Four dead trife had turned into a dozen live ones, appearing in the windowless frames of the apartments that rose on either side of them, hissing and climbing out onto the walls and down, heading their way. Nathan shot a few more, and then Billiard pushed the animals into a fresh gear, speeding up their movement to bring them past the descending demons.
Nathan leaned back in his saddle, using his legs to hold himself to the horse and aiming his rifle back at the trife. He didn’t waste his cells on the creatures that weren’t going to catch up, instead switching the weapon to stream mode and throwing a blast of super-heated gas out behind them whenever the aliens got too close.
The nomad was visibly frightened, but he kept his composure, guiding them through the streets. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.
“Hold on, man,” Billiard said. “I’m going to lose them.”
Nathan turned around, grabbing the saddle horn in his free hand.
“Heya!” Billiard said, kicking Thunder in the sides. The horse burst forward again, Nathan’s ride joining her a moment later. They shifted to a gallop, roaring through the streets.
The increased pace caused the trife to begin to fall back, unable to match the top speed of the animals. They didn’t give up the chase either, continuing to bound along behind them like a pack of wild dogs.
Billiard crossed another street, glancing back at Nathan. “Stay confident and hold tight,” he said. “She’ll know if you’re nervous and she won’t do what we want.”
Nathan wasn’t sure what the nomad meant, but when he looked ahead, he noticed there was a car directly in front of them, positioned across the dark mouth of another underground garage. He felt h
is horse shifting beneath him. He could almost feel the sudden tension in the animal as it too recognized the obstacle ahead. He kicked his knees against its sides, mimicking Billiard and urging it to keep moving. It’s tension lessened, and Nathan leaned over and held on tight as they reached the car, bunching its legs and springing up, taking two loud steps over the hood and coming down on the other side. Nathan wasn’t expecting the move and he was thrust forward, only managing to hold on because of his overall strength.
“Yeee-haw,” Billiard said as they rushed down into the garage. “Whoa!” He pulled hard on the reins, bringing the horses to a sudden stop.
The nomad jumped down off his horse. At first, Nathan thought the man was planning to attack him. It would be easy for Billiard to say he dropped him off and go straight back to the nomad’s camp. He scrambled to regain his balance on the back of his horse, to get ready to defend himself.
Billiard didn’t even look at him. He went to the corner of the garage opening and flipped open a small box there.
“Don’t let them in, man,” he said, looking back at Nathan.
Nathan realized what he was doing and jumped off the horse, bringing up his rifle as the first trife leaped over the car. He fired and caught it square in the chest, knocking it back.
Billiard started turning a small crank, bringing a metal door down from the ceiling of the garage. Three more trife came bounding over the car, and Nathan cut them down in rapid succession.
“Hurry,” Nathan said. He knew how many trife were still following. If they didn’t get the door down in time, they would be overwhelmed.
Billiard continued cranking. Nathan stepped forward, switching back to stream mode and sending a wave of plasma over the car. He heard the hisses of the dying trife beyond it and glanced down at his charge counter. Only Fifty cells remained, and the door was closing too damn slowly.
“Billiard,” he said, getting the nomad’s attention. He switched the mode back to bolt and tossed the other man the rifle. Then stepped up to the gate, grabbing the bottom.
Billiard started shooting at the trife, his bolts rapid and wild. He only hit them because of the sheer quantity of rounds he was loosing, his aim suffering from his inexperience with the weapon.
It didn’t matter. Nathan dropped to his knees, keeping a grip on the bottom of the gate.
Then he pulled.
His muscles flexed, his arms tensing against the resistance. Finally, the gate’s mechanism gave way to his strength, the door sliding down. Billiard stopped firing, and the metal barrier slammed hard into the cement. An instant later, a handful of trife collided with it, causing it to dent inward, but unable to punch through.
“Shit,” Billiard said. “That was close.”
Nathan breathed out, standing up and facing the nomad. They made eye contact, as each of them realized Billiard was the only one with a gun.
He pointed the rifle at Nathan.
“Did you bring me in here to kill me?” Nathan asked, putting up his hands.
“No. There’s another ramp on the other side. We open that one, and we lose the trife. Crosstons will sooner kill you than let you close with trife on your ass.”
“Then why are you pointing my gun at me now?”
“Didn’t expect you’d give it to me,” Billiard said. “I kill you, nobody will know. Not Jaycee, not the Iron General. Liberators took my wife, you know? Took Hi-Top’s wife. Took Hero’s wife. Where are they now? Dead. I know they is. A man knows.”
“I get it. I do. I want the same thing for my wife. She was killed, too. Not by the general, but by someone worse. You’re not going to get the revenge you want by shooting me like this. It’s not going to make you feel any better. I didn’t do anything to you, Bill. I wasn’t there when James took her. I wish I had been because maybe I could have stopped it sooner. I’m not a monster. The general isn’t a monster either. But the monsters are out there, and we’re trying to get them off the planet. Your planet.”
Billiard stared at him unblinking as he absorbed the words. Then he shifted his grip on the gun and tossed it back to Nathan.
“I ain’t no cold-blooded killer,” he said. “Priscilla would have my freaking head if I did you dirty like that. But I’m done, man. You want to get to Crosston? Head out the other entrance over that way. Go straight north. You can’t freaking miss it from here. Horses make too much noise anyways with the trife this close. You’d never get there with them.”
Nathan nodded. “Thank you.”
“Whatever you do, man, don’t be like them. You have some humanity left in you. Do whatever you can to keep it.”
“You too,” Nathan said.
Then he turned and ran into the darkness, leaving Billiard and the horses behind.
Chapter 44
Nathan followed Billiard’s instructions, finding the closed garage door on the opposite side of the building. He lifted it up and used the plasma rifle to wedge it open while he crawled under it. He removed the weapon so it would close again, leaving Billiard and the horses safe inside.
He moved out into the street, ducking behind a car to scan the area. The trife hadn’t circled the building, remaining on the other side to either keep trying to come through the closed gate or retreat.
The path forward was clear, and he sprinted across the street, hugging the face of an old building and reaching an alley. He charged down it, freezing for a moment when he scared a cat out of hiding, and then resuming his dash north.
He covered a few more blocks before coming out near a wide road. Moonlight shone down on it, giving him enough light to navigate and to identify the junkyard just to the south.
He had made it.
He crossed over to the junkyard, staying low and continuing to watch for signs of trife, as well as for any scavengers that might be nearby. He moved into the stacks of old materials, taking the most direct route through it to the other side. The area was unguarded. The path was clear. He reached the other side, able now to make out the long, low building to the northwest. It appeared dark and lifeless from here. Empty and abandoned. He knew from Jaycee that wasn’t the case. The Crosstons bunkered in at night, sealing everything up to avoid attention from the trife. It had been working for them for years.
He doubted they wouldn’t have a sentry or two posted on the roof. He couldn’t see them from there, even with the moonlight, but he was sure they were present. He just needed to get their attention without appearing as a threat.
He sat down against the side of the vehicle positioned as the outer marker for the entrance into Crosston. Then he switched his rifle to stream mode and dialed back the output levels. He lifted the gun up over his head and pulled the trigger, creating a light flare of burning gas over the roof of the car. He flicked it on and off six times, using the code he had been taught during basic training. Would the people here understand it? Though his drill instructors had never said so and probably didn’t know the true origins of the code either, he had a feeling it originated here.
He repeated the process two more times. Then he put the rifle on the ground and stood up, turning to face the building. He put his hands over his head and stepped out from behind the car. If they wanted to kill him, he was wide open and unarmed.
He waited a few seconds, keeping his eyes on the rooftop of the building and trying to catch any hint of movement. He didn’t see any, and after a few more heartbeats he started to wonder if anyone was watching the perimeter after all.
He was about to return to his place behind the car and repeat the process when he noticed a red spot hit his gut. It slid slowly up his body, stopping when it reached his heart.
He smiled, keeping his hands up and waiting. Would they pull the trigger? Shoot him dead where he stood? If that was their intention, they would have done it already.
A sliver of light split the darkness at the base of the terminal, vanishing an instant later. It was nearly another minute before he noticed someone coming toward him, dressed in tight-fitting black cl
oth.
The figure was a dozen meters away when he recognized the person was female, the shape of her hips and breasts revealing her gender. Considering what Doc had told him about Crosston’s arrangements with James, he was surprised they had sent a woman out to meet him.
She came to a stop on the other side of the car. Her head was covered by a cowl that came up from a black bodysuit, and she had dark goggles over her eyes, leaving only a small bit of her nose, cheeks, lips, and jaw visible. She wasn’t carrying a weapon that he could see. The entire bodysuit was smooth against her, almost like a second skin.
“You aren’t the Iron General,” she said. “But you are an identical physical match.”
“That’s right,” Nathan replied. “How did you know?”
She lifted the goggles. Her eyes were glowing a soft orange. “I ought to be able to identify my own brother. My name is Isabelle. Welcome to Crosston… mister?”
“Stacker. Colonel Nathan Stacker.”
She smiled. “I thought Tinker wasn’t making any more replicas after James? Or are you like me?”
The technology to make robots like her was available on Proxima, but the construction of machines that appeared as human was outlawed. He had heard the Trust had built small numbers for use as sex workers, but he had never seen one close up before. She certainly looked real enough.
“A robot? No. I’m flesh and blood. But I didn’t come from Tinker.” He pointed up.
“That explains a lot of the airborne activity I’ve marked lately,” she said. “But we don’t talk about that here. Some secrets are best kept that way. What brings you to us, Colonel Stacker?”
“You took two people in earlier today. A woman with a scarred face, and a man with metal hands.”
Her smile vanished at the mention of Sheriff. “Yes. I told Father to kill that one, but he likes his spirit.” She shrugged. “What do you want with Sheriff Hayden Duke?”
Nathan kept his face level, though he was excited to learn Sheriff's name. Just because this machine claimed to be James’ sister by origin, that didn’t mean she could be trusted.