Blood of Heroes (The Ember War Saga Book 3) (7 page)

There was only static for several seconds. Hale repeated his message.

“Hale…civilians! There are civilians to—” Durand cut in and out. “East. Say again, civilians to your east—side of the fire—hostiles present!”

“Gall? Gall?”

There was no response.

Hale looked to the east where a raging inferno crept toward the edge of the town, throwing up a wall of smoke and flame from one end of the canyon to the other.

“Bailey, you good?” Hale asked her. She was on her feet, her gauss carbine in one hand, the barrel bent at an ugly angle. She tossed the useless weapon aside and drew her pistol.

“I ain’t getting any better just standing here, sir.”

“Let’s go.” Hale took off to the east. They passed over the bodies of a few dead civilians and more than one defeated banshee. By the time they reached the edge of the fire wall, there was no sign of what Gall had been talking about.

Hale lowered his rifle, his eyes glued to the raging inferno ahead of him. What had once been an orchard of neatly spaced trees had become a field of torches. The intense heat from the fire activated the auto-cooling system within his suit.

“When she said ‘side of the fire,’” Torni said, “she meant the
other
side of the fire. Didn’t she?”

“There’s no way around,” Yarrow said, pointing to the cliffs.

There were civilians beyond that fire, innocents that needed Hale and his Marines. His choice was easy.

“We don’t go around,” Hale said.

“Sir,” Standish said, “sir, you’ve got that crazy ‘I’ve got a great idea’ look in your eye, don’t you?”

Hale turned around and steeled himself. Selling this wouldn’t be easy.

“Button up,” Hale said. “Set your suits for void. We’ve got the air to make it.” Hale tapped a command onto his forearm and felt his suit tighten against his body. His helmet plates constricted and the smell of recycled air filled his visor. The rest of his Marines and Steuben followed suit.

“Follow me!” Hale charged into the inferno.

****

Caas grabbed her little brother’s hand and fought to get him out from under the
toreen
tree roots as soot-stained fruit fell from overladen branches, the spikey skin stabbing through her tunic. Ar’ri barely fit into his chosen hiding place; the
noorla
would find him in seconds. A gust of wind sent choking smoke over her.

“Come on, Ar’ri. You can’t stay there!” Caas coughed and yanked at his arm again. She was only six, but she was still Ar’ri’s big sister. He had to listen to her.

“No!” The little boy tried to pull his hand to his chest, but Caas’ hold on him was absolute.

“The monsters will get you, Ar’ri. You have to come!”

A
noorla
’
s
wail sent a chill down her spine. They’d attacked during breakfast with no warning from New Abhaile or the village guard. Mother and Father promised that Galogesvi was too far away, too small, to be attacked. Once the tunnels were repaired, they’d go to New Abhaile and leave with the good aliens Ancient Pa’lon promised were coming. That was their promise, and her parents had always kept their word. But the
noorla
were here.

They’d sent her and Ar’ri with the schoolmaster through the orchards, promising they’d catch up with them at the storm shelter. Father had been holding one of the family rifles; Mother had the other. They both promised over and over again that they’d see their children at the shelter.

Then the fire cut off the village, and
noorla
were waiting for them in the shelter.

Dotok screams came from behind her. She glanced back and saw dark shapes moving through rolls of straw in the harvested fields. A woman ran from the edge of the field, but a dark arm shot out and dragged her behind a tractor. Her screams cut off suddenly.

A
noorla
stepped around the tractor, claws dripping blood. It looked right at her. Caas’ fear melted away, replaced with resolve. There was no escape. Nowhere to run this time.

Caas pulled her brother up and buried his head against her chest. He sobbed, clutching at the back of her arms just like every time he’d wake up from a nightmare.

“Don’t look, Ar’ri. Don’t look.” She hugged her brother close and stared into the fire. She said a prayer, asking forgiveness for all the bad things she’d done. She hadn’t been to a shrine in weeks, and Mother always said that the bad things you did would weigh down your soul.

A monster charged out of the fire, flames clinging to its arms and shoulders. It held a rifle like her parents’, but it wasn’t as big as the
noorla
. It raised the weapon and pointed it right at Caas. Caas pulled her brother close and closed her eyes.

She heard a snap break in the air overhead and waited another second, sure her life was almost over. She opened a single eye and saw the new arrival fire again as a white flash from the end of its rifle sent another snap past her.

She heard the
noorla
roar in pain and felt the ground shake. The
noorla
lay dead, its claws contracting against its chest.

Their savior got closer, and Caas saw that it wasn’t a
noorla
. Its armor, once white, was fire blackened and covered in soot. Flames still licked at its arms and the back of its helmet… and there were more just like it coming through the fire.

“Caas, what’s happening? Can I look?” Ar’ri asked.

“I think…I think more demons are here,” she said.

The new demon fired over their heads, and Ar’ri squealed and tried to worm his way back beneath the tree.

“I count three more around the barn!” the demon shouted in Dotok and ran toward them. Terror petrified Caas as it got closer and then went to a knee next to them. The armor wasn’t anything like the
noorla
; it looked more like what her father wore to the monthly battle training.

It turned a mirrored faceplate to them, and the helmet expanded slightly with a hiss of air. The visor swung up and a pale-skinned alien with short blond hair looked at her with pale blue eyes.

“Are you OK?” The words came from a speaker attached to its throat.

Caas took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs. Ar’ri joined in sympathetic fright.

“No! No!” Torni raised a hand and tried to calm the children. “I’m human, a Marine from the
Breitenfeld
. We’re here to help. Please stop screaming. I’m a friend. Ugh …
meln. Meln
.”

Caas recoiled from Torni’s touch and finally stopped screaming.

“
Breitenfeld
?” she said. She remembered the word from the news broadcasts that her parents had watched over and over again. Ancient Pa’lon said help would come from the
Breitenfeld
.

“Yes,
Breitenfeld
. Is this thing not working?” Torni grabbed the speaker against her neck and flicked it with her finger.

“You’re ugly,” Ar’ri said. He peeked over Caas’ shoulder with tear-streaked eyes.

“It is working. You see that shelter over there?” Torni pointed to the squat building the village used to weather storm squalls. “Go in there and wait for me. We’ll get you out of here once it’s safe.”

Caas and Ar’ri shook their heads.

“No! Monsters,” Ar’ri said.

“There are
noorla
inside,” Caas said.

“Inside the shelter?”

The children nodded.

The Marine put two fingers to her ear. “Sir, this is Torni…”

****

Hale vaulted over a low stone wall and spotted a banshee holding an iron bar like it was a club. The banshee stood along a canal, poking into the water with the tip of the bar.

“Contact! One on the canal,” Hale said. He slowed to aim when the banshee swung around and hurled the bar at him like it was a javelin. Pain exploded across his arms and forehead as the bar deflected off his rifle and smashed into him. Hale staggered back and tripped against the wall he’d just jumped over.

The banshee roared a challenge and lumbered toward him.

A crack in the air from a gauss pistol sent a round into the banshee’s arm. The thing looked at the source of the annoyance and snarled. Bailey fired her pistol faster than anyone else Hale had known until it clicked empty. She replaced the noise of her shots with a string of profanity as she reloaded.

The banshee turned its attention to her and swung an overhand strike down on the squat Marine. Bailey rolled to the side and put a round in the banshee’s exposed jaw. The bullet shattered bone and tendrils of gray blood dripped from the wound. The banshee gagged on its own blood and lashed out at Bailey.

Hale found his rifle in the dirt and got off a shot, hitting the banshee in the stomach. The beast fell to its knees, then to its elbows. Bailey jammed the muzzle of her pistol into an eye slit and sent a bullet careening through its skull.

“What I wouldn’t give for a real weapon right now,” she said. She looked at her pistol like it was a child’s toy and shook her head.

“Sir, we’re outside the shelter,”
Orozco said through the IR.
“Steuben and Yarrow are at the edge of town. They say we’re clear of banshees. I can see people moving in the shelter, but no one’s answering. Want us to go in?”

“Stand by, I’ll be right there,” Hale said.

Hale got back to his feet, his ears ringing from the impact with the iron bar. Some of the farm plots were partially flooded, and green stalks stuck out of the mud, drooping with fat grains. Rows of bushes with bright white berries rustled in the wind that carried the inferno ever closer.

A squat semicircle of a structure was built into the side of a canyon and a stairway cut into the earth leading to the main entrance. Orozco and Standish waved to Hale from a waist-high stone wall around the shelter.

“Torni?” Hale said into the IR.

“She was with some kids last time I saw her. Figure she’d bring them to the shelter?” Bailey asked.

“Makes sense,” Hale said. He jogged to his waiting Marines.

“We took out three around some kind of melon patch,” Standish said. “Damn things were eating. Eating! You believe that? Since when do Xaros need to eat?”

“Since when are Xaros anything but drones?” Orozco asked.

“Great questions for later,” Hale said. “Let’s get this shelter open.” He looked back at the approaching fire. “We may need it.”

Hale went down the stairs and knocked on the door. He heard a rustling within.

“Marines from the
Breitenfeld
,” he announced, knocking against rusted metal. There was no answer. “To hell with subtlety,” he said and reached for the handle.

“Sir!” Torni’s warning came before he could open the door. She was at the top of the stairwell, panting, a pair of Dotok children in her arms. “Sir, step back very, very slowly.”

Hale backed up the stairs, his rifle trained on the door.

“Kids say there are banshees in there,” Torni said. The children nodded as Caas nibbled on her fingernails and pointed to the door.

“Caas, no!” Ar’ri pulled his sister’s hand away from her mouth. “Momma said.”

“Kids say a lot of things,” Orozco chided. “I almost got my head blown off by an IED because some little Malaysian brat promised me his family’s shed was safe.”

“Cover me.” Hale pulled a magnetized disk off his belt and pulled out a few yards of thin wire attached to it. Marines used them as cams against a ship’s hull as an extra safety measure when working in the void. Flying off the side of a ship, “Going Dutchman,” was a harrowing experience and not one that guaranteed survival. Hale tossed the disk at the door and it snapped on. He gave the line a jerk and the door swung open with a squeal.

“I see bodies,” Orozco said.

The Dotok kids started whimpering.

A hulking shadow marched toward the open door. Standish snapped off a shot, then pulled a grenade from his belt.

“Flash bang out!” He threw the grenade through the open door and ducked aside.

Hale turned to the Dotok kids and saw Torni was already shielding them with her body.

Hale wrapped an arm over Torni and added his mass to block any shrapnel.

The ground shook as the grenade exploded. Standish rushed into the shelter and three shots sounded from within.

“Clear!” Standish shouted.

Hale pulled away from Torni, who held the children close to her, whispering into their ears.

“It’s OK. I’ve got you and I won’t let anyone hurt you,” she said to each Dotok.

Standish trotted up the stairs and brushed gray blood off the edge of his rifle. Hale tried to step around him to get into the shelter, but Standish put up a hand to block him.

“No, sir. You don’t want to go in there,” Standish said, his ever-cocky tone subdued.