Havoc (Dred Chronicles 2) - Page 50

“Brahm?”

“I’m here.” He dropped to his knees beside her and took a shot in the back. It cracked the chitin, and Dred yanked him into cover with a muttered curse.

“I’m sorry,” Ali whispered.

Another minute of this, and they’ll rush us. Then we die. She positioned her rifle on the metal lip and fired back, but the citrine cloud hindered her as well as the mercs. Her shots went in wild, slamming the floor in a laser light show that probably did little more than make them dance. She glanced at Jael, who came in at her side to focus fire. He aimed at the stairs, trying to keep the area too hot for the enemy to push.

“She’s gone,” Tam said.

There was no way they could transport Ali’s body, as well as haul all the armor and weapons. Martine and Calypso stripped the undamaged pieces as fast as they could, while Dred and Jael fired at the mercs down below. A few made it past, staggering toward the stairs, and she shook her head, laying down a tight line of red. She hit their leg armor so they had to fall back or lose the segment with another shot, but they were hungry for payback. One death on her side wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy angry soldiers.

“We can’t stay here. Are we ready to roll out?”

“Nearly. Give me a minute,” Calypso answered.

Brahm was still and quiet on his knees. Dred knew nothing about Ithtorian expressions, but he didn’t look all right. “She knew I can take a hit. Why didn’t she let me?”

“Reflex,” Calypso said. “Caring makes you weak. On your feet, bug man. I’m not dying today.” With that, the mistress of the circle hauled him up, and he didn’t resist, or she probably couldn’t have budged him, despite what Dred knew to be exceptional strength.

Jael hurled another grenade at the stairs, so the men with damaged faceplates couldn’t follow. That left the mercs the unenviable decision of whether to split their forces, which had proven to be a bad strategy, or to let their attackers go. The argument sounded behind her, but she didn’t glance back to see which side was winning. If we get back to Queensland with this haul, we’re home free.

Ahead of her, she saw ichor trickling down Brahm’s back. Does cracked chitin heal? She figured it might seal over time because it probably renewed itself somehow, but she had no scientific information to back up the theory. No medicine to help him, either. If the wound got infected, she might have to put him down. Triage was her least favorite part of leading Queensland, worse even than living up to the impossible standards Tam had set for the Dread Queen. It was hard as hell to look into a man’s eyes, then end his life and call it kindness.

They didn’t stop running until they hit the barricades. A few times, she felt like she was being watched, but nobody attacked. That made Dred think it was Silence’s people like rats in the walls, spying and spinning schemes. But she didn’t have time to worry about that when the mercs would be out for blood, and Mungo’s men were still trying to breach the perimeter in the hope of winning the promised pardons.

They’re so stupid it hurts.

Dred blew toward the turrets at a run, and her mag bracelet kept her safe. She turned off the defenses long enough for everyone to pass, then she powered them back up. It was sobering—and awful—that they didn’t have to deconstruct the junk pile for Ali. That would never happen again. This is what it’s like to be hunted. Back on Tehrann, she’d known men who liked to go out and shoot things for sport. While she’d disapproved in principle, she’d never considered how the animals must feel—one minute living their lives and the next interrupted by a danger they had no hope of surviving.

But I can’t give up.

To make matters worse, Keelah and Katur were waiting when they came out in the common room. Queenslanders roared in approval of the new gear, but the alien leaders searched the group, then Katur stepped forward. “What went wrong?”

“She saved me,” Brahm said, lowering his head.

“Ah.” Keelah raised him with a hand on his mandible. “Then she died as well as anyone can in this place. I’ll inform the others and arrange for her service.”

28

Dark and Darker

When Jael awoke, he was strapped to a chair.

The last thing he remembered was drinking with the aliens in their private dorm, a quiet farewell to Ali, whose body had been gone when they backtracked to retrieve it. He didn’t want to say so, but the chances were good that she had been taken—as food. The mercs would have no use for a Rodeisian corpse, and Silence’s killers only revered the death they caused personally. Which left Mungo’s roving monstrosities.

He couldn’t see anything because there was a cloth wrapped around his eyes, thick enough that he glimpsed nothing but darkness. Listening provided slightly more information; the noises were familiar enough that he must still be somewhere in Queensland. The pain at the back of his head told him he must’ve been jumped; they must’ve cracked his skull to knock him out. He’d been taken prisoner before, tortured extensively. On a few occasions, he’d been so close to death that it probably counted.

It just never sticks.

His heart raced as he tried to figure out who would’ve done this. And why. It could be someone with a grudge against Dred or some ass**le who didn’t like Jael. Mary knew, he didn’t have the knack of winning people over with his endearing personality, and he’d played enforcer in the common room more than once. Soft footsteps approached, too light for it to be a big person. Inhaling, Jael drew in a familiar smell; he just had to place it.

Then he knew. And he wasn’t reassured at all.

“He’s waking up. I think he recognizes your scent.” That came from Zediah.

“I thought you were wrong,” she said softly. “I thought he just liked the garden.”

“I know when a man wants you.”

No, you really don’t. Psycho. Jael reckoned Zed had killed a lot of fellows who were completely indifferent to Vix, but Zediah’s reality didn’t allow for that being possible. In his eyes, somehow, she was an irresistible temptress. At that point, he would’ve spoken up in his own defense, except for the strips of leather wound around his head. Jael bit down, working on chewing through them. In time he’d manage it, but there was no telling what they’d do in the meantime. Trying to be surreptitious, he struggled against his bonds, but they were good and tight, more leather reinforced with durasteel.

“I don’t want you to hurt him.” Vix sounded unsure, however.

Tags: Ann Aguirre Dred Chronicles Science Fiction
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