Freeforce: The Gryphon Saga

by L. E. Horn

  Wake Up! His mind was screaming. Oh God, wake up!

  Michael shook all over. Trapped within the dream, he heard himself stammering, trying to explain, “I didn’t mean to, I had to, I had no choice . . .” But not one clear word came out of his mouth.

  The liquid eyes blinked as the long head on the graceful neck sunk lower to the ground. Michael now needed to bend over to get close enough to the Gryphon to make out what it said.

  The softest of whispers, given on the last hint of breath. Then the creature fully collapsed, the weight driving its own sword into the earth.

  Michael’s vision blurred as he blinked away tears. “I’m sorry,” he said, standing over the dead alien.

  His dream-self seemed suddenly isolated from the surrounding battle. The night reclaimed its silence just as the clouds unleashed the rain. The water poured on the plants below, dripping softly off the leaves, running down his face, and over the Gryphon’s still body.

  As Michael awoke, the creature’s last whispered words echoed through his mind. Three little words in a human language it should not have been able to speak.

  “I forgive you,” the Gryphon told him.

  AFTER ALL THEIR STEALTH WORK, it unsettled the Healers to disable collars with the slaves staring at them. Michael had briefed them on the procedure, and the soldiers did their best to comply. Still, Lianndra had to ease some off to sleep before she could go ahead with the deactivation.

  She worked as fast as possible, sneaking up to the men in the darkness, touching them on the shoulder to announce her presence before working. Lianndra squeezed each one’s shoulder when finished before melting into the shadows, heading for her next subject.

  This was their third night of work on Michael’s unit. Michael seemed to have more allies than enemies, and they weren’t all human. The Zraph she worked on the first night turned out to be the Bradley Michael mentioned. It didn’t surprise her that Michael possessed no biases when it came to friends, and it shamed her. She’d worked so long with the men in her division but had barely made it to a first-name basis. And now most are dead.

  Since the early days of the FHR division, Lianndra believed the men thought of her as more animal than human. It built a wall between them. She now recognized her isolation as self-imposed.

  I’m the biased one, she thought. She’d put up impenetrable barriers, giving no one other than Hannah a glimpse within the walls. Looking around with new eyes, she knew the two soldiers remaining in their rebel group treated her with nothing but respect.

  Both soldiers worked hard during the day hunting for meat with their small, powerful crossbows. When they ran out of arrows, the men created new ones from branches. The proximity of Michael’s unit hindered their activities. They shadowed it during the day, coming in close at night when the Healers did their work.

  Lianndra knew Drake’s group could not stick with Michael’s for much longer. Michael’s unit headed for the closest Fang supply barracks only days away. The increased Fang presence put their plans at risk.

  With her dappled coat of hair mimicking the surrounding shadows, Lianndra kept one eye on the fire. She crept along the jungle’s edge to the next soldier. Michael’s unit had chosen a small clearing for their camp tonight. This meant more soldiers sleeping near cover, but it also meant the commander’s tent and fires were closer to where the Healers would be working. Drake almost pulled the plug when he’d seen the camp from the canopy above. Only the prospect of missing a full night’s work convinced him to let the women go ahead.

  Lianndra spotted a bedroll pushed right into the undergrowth, disguising it from the fire’s light. As she approached, she caught a familiar scent and her heart started to pound.

  When she crept alongside, Michael reached out a long arm to gather her into his bedroll, pulling up the covers to hide her. His warmth and scent engulfed her. Soldiers seldom had the opportunity to bathe. Over time, Lianndra had become accustomed to the various odors of unwashed humans. Even so, something about Michael’s scent remained pure.

  I just don’t think I could ever find anything about this man gross. Lianndra gave herself a mental poke. I’m like a schoolgirl with a crush.

  Michael lowered his head until his mouth rested near her ear. His breath made the hair on her neck quiver. Lianndra realized she hadn’t retracted the hair from her face and arms. She wondered if he noticed in the darkness as she worked to remedy the situation. When her tail twitched beneath the covers, she wound it around one of her legs to curtail its involuntary movements.

  “Hi,” he said. White teeth flashed in the reflected firelight.

  “Hi.” Her voice shook. Space was tight in the bedroll, and Lianndra couldn’t help but have her full length against him. She could feel he’d changed from the skinny young man she’d first met. The hard ridges of his chest and abdominal muscles were prominent beneath his thin shirt. She found herself suddenly breathless when his hips and thighs pressed against her.

  Michael clasped her hand to raise it closer to his eyes. Long fingers explored her sensitive finger pads and claws. Lianndra flinched and tried to pull away.

  He respected the movement, releasing her hand. “I guess we’re both different from when we last met.” He smiled again. “Bet those come in really useful in the jungle.”

  Lianndra averted her gaze before nodding. “They do.”

  Michael stared at her for a moment. A log crackled and shifted in the nearest fire pit, bringing them back to the matter at hand. “We’re two days out from the northernmost barracks,” he whispered to her. “If we’re going to make a move against the commander, tomorrow’s it. Can you get the rest of us done in time?”

  Lianndra considered before answering. Drake calculated the numbers before they’d moved in tonight. It would push it since some might be too close to the fire for either she or Hannah to reach. They never managed to get every person in a unit, but as long as they got most of them, any mutiny should have an obvious conclusion.

  “Most of them. Those closest to the tent are too Fang friendly and aren’t good candidates anyway,” she said.

  Her heart thumped from more than just the closeness of Michael’s body—it constricted with fear. Fear of what he planned to do and the risk it involved. Like all fighting units, the commander of Michael’s unit had a direct comm link to the nearest barracks. If they didn’t take the Fang commander out fast, every Fang within range would be instantly on top of them.

  The commander’s three Bernaf bodyguards might also be slaves, but Lianndra remained unsure of their true allegiance. Getting to the Fang commander meant getting past them. At night, the lithe gray aliens protected the commander within his tent. During the day the logistical realities of moving through the jungle might make the Fang more vulnerable.

  Michael seemed to think along the same lines. “Daytime presents us with the best opportunity. Surprise and speed are essential. The main obstacles are those bodyguards because they move like lightning and are lethal even without weapons.”

  Lianndra thought hard. “I think you need a distraction. The jungle is full of them. I’ll talk to Captain Drake and the other Healer, Hannah. Perhaps we can whip something up for you. If the Fang thinks it’s a natural thing, he won’t be in a hurry to report to headquarters.”

  “I don’t want you helping with this.” Michael’s voice rose, his fingers digging into her arms as he forced himself to whisper. “This is our gig. You have done enough.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Michael.” Lianndra placed two fingers on his lips to stop another outburst. “We’re in this together. This is a rebellion, so no one stands alone. There is too much riding on each effort.”

  He grimaced. She felt the tension along the entire length of his body. Ignoring his physical proximity as best she could, she continued. “We’ll be close to you tomorrow. Tell everyone to wait for the distraction before going after the Bernaf and Fang.”

  “The jungle is a busy place. How will we know when it’s your distracti
on?”

  Lianndra smiled and said. “Don’t worry, you’ll know. I have an idea. It depends on what jungle secrets lurk nearby but it will seem like an animal attack. It should keep the Bernaf unaware of the real threat until it’s too late.”

  Michael’s fingers tightened on her arms and she thought he would argue further. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed her. Every bone in her body melted against him as he groaned softly beneath her lips. His hands shook, his body hard against her as he held her so tight she could barely breathe. They were breathless when he reluctantly pulled away.

  The Michael I knew on Earth wouldn’t have been so bold. Lianndra’s thoughts whirled. I think I like this new Michael even better.

  “Be careful.” He interlocked his long fingers with hers. “Please.”

  Lianndra couldn’t trust herself to speak after that kiss. She merely nodded as he raised the cover to allow her to slide out of the bedroll. As she moved into the dense foliage, she felt his eyes on her.

  The firelight reflected off the claws on her hand, and Lianndra clenched it into a fist, fighting off despair. Her heart hurt and fingers trembled when she reached the next slave and forced herself to smile into his worried eyes. As she worked, her thoughts stayed on Michael. If only we could live in darkness forever. These kisses might be all I ever have of him. At least I can free him, and maybe he can go home. Everything hinges on what happens with the Fang. I will free him. Tomorrow.

  FIGURES—LIANNDRA CAUGHT HER LIP between her teeth—when you’re looking for them, they’re never around. Her eyes scanned the jungle canopy. It was a quiet morning. Too quiet. Where the hell are they?

  She sighed, shifting the rodent carcass to her other hand. She’d found a plump one so she wouldn’t run out of reptile bait before she got to her target.

  Finally, Hannah whistled. She’s spotted them!

  Her heart, which hadn’t been too steady all morning, accelerated as her adrenaline surged. She took to the air, swinging to the next tree with her skrin. Hannah whistled again, using the call of a common jungle bird to help Lianndra zero in on her location.

  Lianndra swung to the branch alongside Hannah. The redhead pointed to a group of tall trees. “They just flew in there.” Her forehead creased in a frown as she touched Lianndra on the arm. “Are you sure about this? Maybe we should go with Drake’s idea. This seems too risky.”

  “It has to appear like a natural accident or the Fang commander will pull every nearby unit down on us. That’s why Drake agreed to this plan.” Lianndra smiled at her friend. “It’ll be fine. Just make sure you guys are in place. Staying undetected might be tricky if many slaves are loyal to the Fang and fight for him. We’re lucky Michael is Mr. Popular. It gives us a good read on how most slaves stand.”

  Hannah nodded, her face creased with worry. “Be careful,” she said as Lianndra extended her skrin, using it to bind the carcass to her torso. The blonde Healer felted the skrin’s controller to her waist, adjusting the rodent body to cover her back. When it felt balanced, she nodded to Hannah, who slit the body open. Lianndra felt the rapidly cooling blood running down her ribcage. My skrin will never be the same.

  She soared into the nearest tree and headed for the area housing the reptile birds. As Lianndra moved, she grew a tuft on the end of her tail, a long brush of hair. It might just save my skin.

  Flashes of iridescent color darted through the canopy. Lianndra heard the click and whir of the stiff feathers on the four-winged creatures. She paused on a high branch just upwind and ground the tuft of her tail into the gory carcass on her back until it absorbed the blood.

  The activity in the tree seemed to increase, and Lianndra inhaled. Then she swung out on a sturdy vine, moving in a large arc that carried her to within touching distance of the target tree. At the farthest reach of the arc, she flicked her tail, splattering gore everywhere.

  A loud buzzing hum rose from the tree. They came after her, following the blood trail with their small fangs bared.

  So much for the easy part. Lianndra released the vine and flew to a nearby tree trunk. She barely touched the trunk before launching herself forward with only the tips of her claws. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the flock swirl in a rainbow of brilliant color as they pursued.

  She concentrated on staying just one step ahead. If they caught up with her, they would descend like a school of piranha to rip her to shreds. Which is the reason I didn’t tell Michael the details of what I planned and why Drake objected to the idea. But Drake hadn’t been able to offer anything better, and they’d run out of time.

  Rebellions don’t succeed if everyone plays it safe. Lianndra knew the rough location of Michael’s unit, and she relied on Hannah to guide her more precisely once she closed in on them. The Healers traveled beyond the ideal distance to find the flock of flying lizards. Now she would have farther to go to get to the target.

  To stay ahead of them, she had to dole out the occasional morsel to the flock. She did so now, yanking out a segment of intestine with her tail to toss it into the crook of a tree as she flew by. The flock hesitated in its forward progress just long enough to devour the morsel before they took up the blood trail once more.

  Lianndra panted by the time she saw Hannah swing into full view ahead. Sweat ran with the blood across her body. She’d doled out most of the rodent’s innards by then, relying on her speed and agility to keep ahead—barely. Leaders of the flock came into view along her flanks.

  Hannah moved to full speed with Lianndra following as they dropped lower in the jungle foliage. The flock must be well and truly committed, or they would never have followed her down. She felt a small body bounce off the carcass on her back, carving out a mouthful for itself. Several others followed. Then they began hitting her so hard they forced her lower and lower. Lianndra winced as one missed the carcass, biting into her shoulder. Another caught the back of her leg. She started using her blood-soaked tail to beat them off as she sailed through the air.

  Hannah whistled as she swung up and away, signaling that the unit marched just ahead. Lianndra fought to stay above the lowest plants. Her toes contacted a branch and the flock descended on her, obscuring her vision. She swiped a couple off her head as she launched for a vine, snagging it with a hand about twenty feet off the ground. With the other, she hit the skrin control, retracting the cable and releasing the carcass from her back so she could dangle it by one leg.

  She saw the perimeter guard’s shocked face as she flew just over his head, fighting to stay on the vector Hannah had given her. The flying reptiles were all over her.

  Hannah’s aim was dead on. Lianndra catapulted without warning through the center of the marching unit and between the Bernaf bodyguards. With a sodden smack, she clobbered the Fang commander in the chest with the carcass. Bright bodies obscured Lianndra’s vision as she barreled into the undergrowth on the path’s other side and disappeared.

  MICHAEL STRODE ALONG THE PATH. The Zraph he nicknamed Bradley stomping along behind him. He’d positioned himself within easy striking distance of the Fang commander. The tension involved in appearing nonchalant lit his nerves on fire.

  Desperately worried about Lianndra’s plan to distract the commander and his bodyguards, Michael remained on edge all morning. Dangers ruled the jungle, some hidden, some not, and he hoped Lianndra and her small group of rebels were not in over their heads.

  Even though he prepared for something to happen, when it did, it paralyzed Michael with shock. The form that crashed through the unit bore no resemblance to anything familiar. Something bloody and torn hit the Fang commander, knocking him flying. Colorful reptile birds swarmed above him in agitation before following the trail of blood to his prone form. He yelled in his coarse voice, causing the Bernaf bodyguards to leap to his assistance, grabbing the small winged bodies to crush them in their elongated fingers.

  It provided the perfect distraction. The bodyguards assumed the surrounding soldiers would move to their leader’s defense. Caught
off guard, they died when the soldiers ran them through with their weapons instead. A vengeful Bradley moved in and summarily tore the Fang commander to shreds. Bits and pieces better off not identified flew through the air, eagerly pursued by small, bright bodies.

  The few soldiers who hadn’t been in on the plan stood in baffled confusion as the tide turned. Michael ignored them. Frowning, he turned from the carnage to survey the torn leaves on the path’s far side. Mentally retracing events, he realized something had blasted straight through the marching column, plowing into the undergrowth. Something covered in more of those ravenous reptiles.

  His heart lurched as he pushed his way through the underbrush. A few bloated, weakly flapping reptiles clinging to the bushes told him he followed the right path. Their distended bellies rendered the creatures temporarily unable to fly.

  “Lianndra!” he bellowed, fear adding volume to his call. He imagined her shredded to pieces by those vicious creatures. “Lianndra!”

  “Over here,” an unfamiliar female voice answered.

  He burst into a trampled area, almost colliding with an unfamiliar, dark-haired man. A woman with red hair and a tail leaned over a crumpled form on the ground. Must be Hannah? Surrounding them were mounds of the flying reptiles.

  Michael looked down. He barely recognized Lianndra through the blood, and everywhere he looked, he saw raw bite marks. She isn’t moving. As he fell to his knees beside her, he choked on words of denial.

  “She’s alive, but she took a beating from those things.” The dark-haired man tried to sound reassuring but Michael could hear distress in his accented voice. “Hannah will set her to rights. You must be Michael. I’m Drake.”

  Michael nodded acknowledgment and sensed the man’s dark eyes assessing him. Uncaring, he only had eyes for Lianndra’s prone form. He noticed Hannah’s lips moved wordlessly as she worked over her friend. The shallow cuts had already stopped bleeding and the deeper ones barely oozed.