Kicking Ashe (15 page)

A breeze lifted the flap of the eating tent, the soft crack of fabric loud as thunder in the deep silence. No smoke came out the stack. He quieted his heart, his breathing, listened and heard…nothing. That was wrong. One always heard—

“No insects.”

Ashe angled her head, her lashes drifting down for several seconds, then lifted. “That’s odd.”

Odd. She might be the master of the understatement. It was more than the lack of sound that troubled. The site felt hollow. Abandoned. He turned back to Ashe, almost surprised to find her still there. Felt the kick of longing at the sight of her standing in the gold of the failing light. The breeze teased the edges of her hair, and light tangled in strands of brown, green, purple and gold. His heart gave an odd, not unpleasant thump. He’d quit scent parsing her. He didn’t know when, just that he had. Distrust was gone, replaced by—

“No offense, but your sensors are not a lot of help.” She half frowned, a dent between her brows he wanted to smooth away. “Can you upgrade? Cause we’re flying blind.”

His turn to frown. “I can tweak the settings but not from here—”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Her gaze met his, her eyes widened, her lips parted. “Are you all right?”

How could he be all right when he did not hold her—he stopped himself, though it was not without an inner struggle. He walked to her side, because he must. “What is happening?” He was not sure if the question was about the strange happenings or the new things he felt for her.

She stared at him, a look in her eyes he had not seen before. No fear, no wary, possibly a bit puzzled. A hint of hope. Her lips parted, as if she planned to speak, but she didn’t. Her tongue traced the edge. Her expression softened—she jumped as if someone had nudged her.

“Do you know anything about earthquakes?” As if she must, she stepped toward him, the question her eyes asked him different from the one she’d voiced.

“Yes.” He answered the unasked question, because it felt more important, though the sound of his voice startled him. He shook his head to clear it. Was not sure it worked. “I—they are caused by a release of energy,” he resisted the urge to clear his throat as he finished, “in a planet’s crust.”

She nodded, then half shrugged. “We’re not sure, of course, because time theory is, well, theory, but we think that’s what is happening here.”

He blinked, then frowned. Time? We? “What?”

Her gaze still held his captive, as if their eyes communicated differently from their spoken words. “Even when you think you know, stuff happens and then you…don’t know what you thought you knew. But based on data, there are earthquake like properties to this phenomena we’re experiencing.”

He blinked again. Tried to focus on her words, not her eyes. Didn’t quite manage it. “So you think…” What did she think? Did he want to know?

“…that time is shifting, possibly shuddering from a massive energy release. Maybe.”

The horizon rippled again, gold at the edges, the wave washed over them like a cool breeze and after it passed, they stood closer together, though he did not recall either of them moving.

She pointed up, flickered her finger. “Like that. Like when we kissed, and were in that other place, only this time…we stayed there.” She licked her lips. “Or here. Or something.”

He inhaled on a shudder that was part fear, part…not. “It must be a dream.” A good dream. Her scent wrapped around him again and he felt the petals of his mother’s flowers brush his face. Saw them shifting in a breeze as gentle as the one that brought him their scent. He rubbed his forehead, so he wouldn’t reach for her. His brain felt slow, ached, but not in a bad way. Was that what happened? He’d been injured and was now caught in a hallucination? It made more sense than time shifting, though if he could choose, he’d stay here, looking at Ashe looking at him.

Uncertainty crept into her eyes. “Do you want it to be a dream?”

“No.”

This smile topped the others. The curve of her mouth, the sparks of light in her green eyes lit something in his chest. Made his heart jump.

“That’s good, cause it’s not a dream, fly boy.” She reached up, touched the side of his face, the pads of her fingers whisper soft, like the flower petals.

The ground shuddered hard. He gripped her arm to steady her, though she rode the unstable ground without visible discomfort.

“That was an earthquake, was it not?”

Ashe looked around, as if she expected—he did not know what she expected.

“Yes.” She frowned. “And no.” Her gaze intersected his. “Your sensors didn’t pick it up. I’d guess it was a time…quake.”

How—he looked at where he touched her. He must have kept her access active, though he did not recall—a shimmer of light appeared against the setting sun, rolling toward, and then passing over them. It vanished as if it had never been, leaving behind a feeling of menace at odds with the pure, gold light of evening. Ashe must have felt, too. She moved closer, her body angled like a warrior giving another support. Her hand went to her side, as if looking for a weapon not there. He realized he’d mirrored the move. The feel of his weapon reassured though he was not clear how it would help if this were a time or earthquake.

The rumble of aftershocks was not unexpected, though each one set off a wave of rolling light that slowly, but surely erased the camp, leaving them standing in a grassy field. He looked down, found faint traces of where the camp had been.

“It’s pushing us forward in time now,” Ashe murmured. She appeared both hyper alert and fighting loose, despite her lack of weaponry.

He’d started to extract his weapons before the first scent reached him. Now he flipped both to kill settings. “Zelk.” The single word hissed between clenched teeth. He changed his grip on one weapon, extended it toward Ashe. “If you are going to shoot me, please wait until my back is turned,” he murmured, a slight grin softening the words, though he meant them.
Only someone you trust can betray you.
She had that power now, though he hadn’t planned to bestow it.

“Thanks.” The weapon settled in her hands like a purring planka. Her lips curved in real delight.

He might have shared her delight if the evening breeze hadn’t brought him a second scent. He stiffened. “Timrick.” His chin lifted, his body angled as he homed in on a direction.

“Shan—”

He did not hesitate. He could not. He arched a brow.

Her sigh was big enough to unsettle the breeze for several seconds. “Okay. I’ve got your back.”

He gave a sharp nod and headed straight into the scent, following it like a trail, while regret coiled in his gut. He’d promised to save her from the Authority, but not by getting her killed. He glanced back, perhaps to tell her he was sorry, but the words caught in his throat when he saw the light of battle in her eyes. She did not fear the fight, did not fear death. Then he would not fear it for her. He would fight and die with her. Adrenaline licked through his veins and something he almost didn’t recognize. Could he be happy? It made no sense, but nothing had since Timrick went missing. “It is a good day to die.”

She made a sound closely resembling a snort. “A good day to make
them
die.”

“Zelk travel in
trevas
.”

A pause, as if she processed this statement. “Eight to two is an opportunity to excel where I come from.”

He did not inquire how she knew a
treva
meant eight Zelk. Her matter-of-fact acceptance of the odds, her cool confidence chilled the heat in his blood and sharpened his awareness. They would not be able to see the chameleon-like Zelk, but he could scent them—

The ground beneath them shuddered again, setting off another round of the strange light waves. Even as he strode forward, the waves…peeled away what he saw, changing the time of day, even the season they passed through. One wave put them in field of snow, the next leaving them in the stark bareness of autumn, and then they were back in the denser foliage of spring. Through it all the scent path pulled him on, kept him anchored and focused. He reached a path winding through the trees and stopped just as the last of the waves passed over them, taking the scent from him, too, as it shifted the wind’s direction.

Their gazes met for a half a startled second, then they both dropped into the underbrush.

The way the path bent, first one direction and then another, reminded him of his last dirt-side encounter with a
treva
of Zelk. The cleverly conceived ambush had almost cost him his life and had taken his then-commander’s. Only a shift in the wind had saved the bulk of the patrol. The majority of the Zelk
treva
had taken positions in a line along one side of the ambush site, a single Zelk positioned on the other, at the end of the line to cut off their retreat once the trap was sprung. If Shan hadn’t caught their scent, the whole patrol would have been inside the trap zone and none would have survived.

The horizon shivered again, bringing change he felt, rather than saw. Against his chest, he felt the soft vibration of boots against the ground. A patrol or a
treva
? Whoever approached was down wind, too. He felt a prickle along the back of his neck. He glanced right, then left, only moving his eyes, felt a strong need to stay completely still for reasons he could not have explained. Nothing—wait. At first it was just an impression. Then he realized that almost against his nose, the terrain curved almost like the calf of a leg. The prickle turned to ice. He looked left again, taking more time to study the underbrush. The wind ran along his back, taking any scent away, but he still found another Zelk.

They were part of the Zelk line.

* * * *

Ashe wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to move, just knew she didn’t. Didn’t want to breathe, but kind of needed to do that. Interesting that Shan hadn’t moved since they both dropped. No question the waves were messing with them.
Have you ever experienced anything like this?

Lurch’s negative was a bit on the absent-minded side and would have annoyed if a tracking screen hadn’t popped into view. It showed their position. And an approaching line of six figures and several meters to their right a lone figure positioned further up the path. Before Ashe could formulate a thought or question, Lurch did a data dump into her brain, then popped up the key point.

The Zelk don’t show up on life signs scans.
And they are chameleons.
She frowned, her gaze sliding to her right. Just how chameleon-like were these things? Her gaze narrowed. Was that bush bending a bit? It took some staring to find the whole figure.
That camo is as good as mine used to be.
She thought this because she didn’t want to think about how still—and how close—the Zelk was. If he took a step, it might be on her, or at least her hand. If he looked down—

Don’t think about it.

The slight vibration of the approaching patrol? Was it Keltinarian? Seemed indicated. She felt their approach and figured the Zelk must be focused on that. No reason to look down. For now.

Could knowing where these two Zelk are help you figure out if there are anymore?
Something about the path and the lay of the land and their position reminded her of something, plus Shan seemed certain there were at least eight. That left six around them somewhere.

If it were me planning this, I’d use a classic L-shaped ambush.
She used the tracking map to mentally position a team—she’d have two guys right where the two Zelk waited. Or close to them. Have a single shooter on the other side, either at the top or bottom of the line. Zelk were up wind from the approaching line, too. They’d get no warning.

It is possible that a wave will shift you somewhere else before the line reaches the Zelk.

Or it brought us here with intent.
It didn’t matter what Time, or she or Lurch thought. The tension in Shan’s body told her he was going to get involved. And she’d have to back him up.
Be nice to know where the rest of them are before the shooting starts.

I have almost gotten control of his transport system.

And if time shifts while we’re in transit? You’ve lost track of his ship through each shift.
Not to mention Shan was likely to be peeved if he thought his brother was here. She looked at the single life sign. Could that be Timrick? Shan had smelled him before the waves started hitting. And if it was Timmy, which was he? Bait or betrayer? If he were Garradian, she wouldn’t even think the question. She’d just shoot him and be done with it. But he wasn’t
her
brother.

Another quake, or aftershock, one that didn’t seem to affect the Zelk, but it cut off their contact with Shan’s ship again. And maybe Time was bored, because it also dropped the Keltinarian patrol right into the ambush. Or jumped them ahead into it.

“Aim for their heads,” Shan hissed into her ear, before rolling over and opening fire on the Zelk to their left.

Ashe rolled onto her back the other way and shot the Zelk on their right. His camo flickered at each shot. Took three to bring him down. He slumped, heading right for her. She scrambled out of its way, then to her feet, though in a low crouch. Boy, he did smell nasty. Heard and smelled the sound of shorted wires and then his camo dropped. Spikes protruded in every possible direction from nasty looking scales, the sight almost as creepy as the near invisibility. It had round, red eyes that didn’t seem able to blink, though they did begin to pulse.

They self-destruct rather than be captured.

Had to assume the one Shan shot was getting ready to blow, too. Based on Lurch’s data dump, they had about sixty seconds to get clear, maybe less.
Any chance you’ll be connected before the gomers blow?
She followed the flashes of fire back to more Zelk. Tried not to notice as the patrol took casualties. One boy dropped across the fallen Zelk, his eyes already blanked by death.
Eamon.
The surge of anger surprised her. She quit counting seconds and increased her rate of fire. Next to her Shan rose, firing down the line of Zelk. None of them turned to return fire. Odd, but didn’t reduce their risk, as other downed Zelk began their own self-destruct countdowns. Not to mention, they were in the Zelk line at risk from—an energy beam tracked inches from her face—friendly fire.