Flight (26 page)

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Authors: J.A. Huss

BOOK: Flight
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I blow out some air and walk over. "What?"

Tier points to the burly man and then walks off after Aren and Selia, leaving us alone.

"What?" I ask again, this time directing it up towards Subjack. He's cleaned up a lot since yesterday. His beard is trimmed close to his face and his hair is slicked back on his head. His road-warrior gear has been replaced with a standard commander's uniform.

"I'm not letting you leave with those words between us, Junco. We've always sorted it out in the past and we will sort this out as well."

I turn my head away as I speak. "I don't want to sort it out now."

"I have a power for you," he says. It's like my words never even came out of my mouth.

I turn back and look up at him, meet his eyes and hold his gaze. "I don't need your powers anymore."

"I know that, Junco. You're quite powerful already. It's a different kind of power." He takes my hand and slips a piece of paper in it.

I look at the paper as he keeps hold of my hand, a small envelope really, and then raise my eyes again. "So what's this?"

"Proof." He folds my fingers over so they close around the envelope before letting go, and then he turns and walks away.

Tier is watching me from the end of the hallway, Aren and Selia momentarily forgotten. He makes his way towards me. "What's that he gave you, Junco?"

I stuff the envelope in my pocket. "I'm not going to look at it now."

The fact is, I think to myself as I walk back towards Isten, I'm not interested in sharing this with Tier. My father is none of his business, just like Tier said I'm none of Gideon's business. My feelings about his role in my upbringing have shifted a bit in the last two days and I haven't had a chance to sort it all out yet. My father isn't as easy to dismiss as my mother. He was there, she wasn't. And that alone means he at least gets to have his say.

Isten is messing with our bike when I make my way over to him. Several other bikes come online all at once and the atmosphere inside the tunnel becomes thick with exhaust.

Ashur takes his navigation seat up near the front of the group. His hands deftly flip switches for fuel mixture and power levels, then flit over the shields and weapons systems. Mish navigates the second bike and does the same, while Braun takes the shoot seat behind Ashur where he has a large cannon mounted. Braun is packed to the hilt with munitions and internally I think it's kinda funny that he and Ashur have to be mission partners even though they don't get along.

Rikan's golden-boy persona is absent now, his hair and wings are both darkened with some kind of spray-on, as he takes his shoot seat behind Mish.

"Hey, Is?" I look over but he's busy adjusting something on the back end of my 50 cal.

Gideon is next to me before I can figure out where he came from. "Something wrong, Junco?"

"No. Hey, Is?" He's still busy and I begin to lose my patience.
Isten!

He looks up. "Fuck, Junco! What? You don't have to scream at me, I'm right here and the fucking rifle's not mounted tight, OK? Hold the fuck on a minute."

I scowl at him and look around, but everyone, including Tier, is busy with their own issues before we move. I look back at Gideon and shrug. "Do you think I should darken my wings like Rikan did?" I point over to our five just in case Gid doesn't know who Rikan is.

"Doesn't matter, Junco. Most of the mutants are blind from living in the dark, and anyway, they kill ya on smell alone."

Isten is suddenly interested and straightens up to speak. "Fuck, you are such an asshole. Don't tell her that shit."

Gideon laughs and from the corner of my eye I see Tier take notice. "She's a better trained soldier than you'll ever be,
Isten
." He drawls out his name like it gives him a bad taste in his mouth. "I think she can handle the monsters in the dark."

"So, Is? Why is he doing that if we've got the slick silver?"

"It drains the armor, Juncs, can't use it all the time and Rikan is paranoid about slick silver. He never uses it unless he has to."

"You don't think we should darken our wings? I mean I'm almost as light as Rikan is, and he's darked up."

Isten shrugs. "He's always done that. I've got Lucan's gift, so my wings could be glowing hunter orange for all I care. And your mottled color is actually pretty great camouflage in just about any environment, even snow. So you decide, do you need it or not?"

"Why don't we all have your gift, then?"

"There's rules, Junco. Lucan can't just hand the shit out whenever he wants, there's got to be a verified reason."

"Why did he give it to you?"

"I had to go to school with you. I told ya. Now leave me alone so I can fix this rifle."

He goes back to the rifle as I think for a moment but time's up and the atmosphere changes from prep to ready. Isten jumps on and latches his helmet on. I pile my hair up on top of my head and do the same as I grab my seat on the back. Everyone is busy with their bike partner, even Gideon has something to say to Moju. Moj spies me watching him and thumbs me up just before latching his helmet on.

My stomach gets queasy breathing the filtered air so I disengage the visor and leave the faceplate open.

I watch Tier command Ashur's team up front briefly and his eyes are still glowing from the encounter with Gideon.

"Hey," Tier barks and Isten and I look over at him. "You two," he motions to us with a pointed gloved finger, "are to stay together during this mission. Do ya understand me, Isten?"

"Got it."

"Junco?"

"Whatever."

Then Tier looks over to Gideon. "I don't give a fuck who ya think ya work for, Gideon, if yer here to watch out for Junco, then ya'd better not let anything get past ya. If you come out of this and she doesn't, I'll kill ya dead in a way that you'll remember far into the nether."

Gideon doesn't respond. Not a twitch, not a grunt, not a head nod, not a blink. Just nothing.

Isten spins up our drive as I settle in and check to make sure I have easy aim through the scope. Arel is next to us, but Tier wanted Isten's 50 cal stowed, not mounted, so he's sporting a high-power projectile instead. No aim required, just spray in their general direction.

I double-check the ammo stores as Isten takes us up several meters. The hot exhaust shoots down towards the ground and bounces back up. Smells flow up over my exposed face and force me to recall past missions with the Rural Republic.

Up front Ashur signals and the blast doors begin to slide open. The Subjack tunnels are well-lit, you barely know you're underground except for the constant sound of water that seeps down the concrete walls. But that's not what waits for us on the other side of the barrier.

It's dark.

Not just dark, it's fucking dark.

And in my head I hear the hiss of the mutants outside the Ramah labs instead of the steady trickle of water and have to push down childhood training memories that still scare the shit out of me to this day. I close my visor and shiver at the thought of being one of the unwanted soldiers ahead of me. I'd rather puke in my helmet than go without enhanced night vision right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

The scurrying begins immediately. You'd think that the sound of almost two dozen grav bikes would be enough to drown out the scuttle of small animals across the puddles, but not so. That shit comes through loud and clear.

If you're Isten, or Tier, or even Gideon, then the tunnels in front don't look too bad. I mean Ash and Mish, they're up there with the Unwanted, lighting the fucking place up for the navigators back here.

But if you're me, Arel, or Moju – well then, the fucking blackness that seeps out in the wake of our light is enough to make you paranoid. Monsters in the dark kind of paranoid. And the really fucked-up part is that it's not just mind games. There really are monsters in the dark.

I watch the small critters disrupt the sheen that covers the ground water as they slink back from our light, then grow some balls and creep forward as we speed off. If we keep up this pace we will be up to Runout by dark, which of course, is relative down here, but habits, right? It's not that far after all. Especially with the straight shot through the tunnels. Once we make it down to the Peaks, it's a couple hours away, tops.

We've been flying for less than ten minutes when the first attack comes. They're small, just little terrestrial bots that shoot weak streams of plasma. Not anything that can penetrate Aves armor, but the Unwanted take a few hits and are yelping like babies so I grab a plasma and start shooting bolts below the middle of our team. Everyone else riding shoot starts doing the same and in a few seconds they scurry back to wherever it was they came from.

I glance back at them as we continue forward and squint my eyes when I notice them exhibit a disturbing camaraderie, piling on top of the injured parties. I swallow and open my private 039 com. "We've got amalgabots."

Tier's voice comes over the exterior coms and repeats my warning and assigns duties to each shooter. "Just don't fucking hit my team back here, or I'll blow ya out of the air and leave your ass down here in hell. Clear?"

They are all very clear.

"First one's coming, I got it." Arel blasts out a spray and takes it down. It falls, but we all watch as the remaining pieces come back together and begin the reassembly process.

"My guess is that was the first victim we picked off, and with each hit it becomes a bigger and badder enemy, so let's wait until they are as close as possible before we hit them again."

Tier repeats my instructions over the exterior coms and the Unwanted begin to get nervous.

I watch in earnest, asking Sera to increase my night vision until she protests it will interfere with other operations, and wait for the new amalgamation to appear into my field.

But it doesn't.

I can hear the Unwanted on the external coms. They think this is a good sign, but when I look over at Moju he pops up his visor and shakes his head at me. I nod and look over at Arel. He smiles and my screen types out his message.
Launchers ready
.

We travel further into the MR tunnels and I watch with dread as malformed hands slip out from behind large cracks in the concrete walls, I hear the slight hiss of protest at our light in their world of blackness, and I feel their restraint.

If the amalgabot is still behind us, it's keeping a distance that is far outside my parameters, which, from what Sera tells me, are exceptional and far superior to anyone else's. Even Arel's – and he's stocked with so much aftermarket com shit, we could almost be twins.

"Halt!" Ashur's voice crackles over the external com. "Blast door isn't fully open ahead. Going ahead to scout. Cover me."

Braun stands up and aims over Ashur's head and Rikan does the same. They shower the door in white light and everyone winces at the intrusion. The doors are not closed, but they are not open either. It's clever really, the opening the creatures have left for us. Enough to pass through, maybe two or three abreast, but not enough to be prepared for an assault on the other side should someone be waiting.

The point spends a good fifteen minutes checking the door and with each passing second I get a little more worried about what's coming up behind us. Arel and Moju are both standing in anticipation.

Finally Tier gives the go-ahead and we squeeze through the doors, Ashur and Mish first. There's nothing waiting for us on the other side and once again, the Unwanted take this as a good sign.

Not me.

I've learned to be cynical with the best of them. Lucky breaks are bad omens in my line of work. You don't want to be on the wrong side of Luck, you might as well be on the wrong side of Death because you don't want to owe that Luck bastard anything. Luck fucking sucks. You take competence every time. Every motherfucking time because luck is never good.

It always asks for something in return.

We pick up the pace from there and push the bikes to respectable cruising speed to dampen down the feeling that we're being followed.

Of course, we are being followed. I saw the fucker as it slipped through the blast door behind us. But I don't tell anyone. I know Moju and Arel both saw it too and we are the only ones who matter right now.

Sera has a map up on one corner of my vision screen, plus the coordinates on the helmet screen that Tier is projecting, and I'm starting to feel a little claustrophobic when the hissing takes on a new level.

"We've got company," Arel whispers on the internal coms. I turn a little in my seat to see how the Unwanted are taking it, but before I can make a decision either way the amalgabot attacks from behind.

Arel and Moju launch grenades at the same time and take the fucker out in one swoop, but I dial in the vision enhancement and watch as it pulls itself back together, and almost like a mother gathering her children, it asks the smaller bots around it to come into the fold.

"More up front." Ash's voice is calm, but Braun's response is massive. He's shooting rockets, not grenades, and it takes some skill for Ash to compensate for the recoil that reverberates down Braun's body and transfers into the bike.

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