Burden of Sisyphus (25 page)

           
Vance didn’t bother using the radio.
 
Instead, he shouted, “Follow me!
 
Head straight for the outpost and don’t stop.
 
If you fall behind, you’ll be left there!”

           
Activating his microphone, he called to Ainj, “I need you covering our backs, Ainj.
 
Once we’re out of range, take flight and meet us at the outpost.”

           
“I’ll send every one of the bastards straight to hell, Sir,” Ainj said angrily, the rage of watching Nova die still fresh in his mind.

           
Vance sprinted up the street with the rest of the soldiers close behind.
 
He heard Seques scraping and grunting, moving up side streets, but none approached his group, as they ran.

           
“Why aren’t they coming after us?” Eza asked, running beside Vance.
 
“I can see them.
 
Why aren’t they attacking?”

           
“They’re herding us into a trap of their own choosing,” Vance replied, still running.

           
“Since when did Seques get that smart?” Yen asked, joining them at the front of the group.

           
“Someone changed them—their teeth, claws, ability to stand on hind legs, and especially their intelligence.
 
Someone turned our gentle Seques into murderers.”

           
Eza and Yen, exchanging knowing glances, kept running.
 
The group finally broke from the towering skyscrapers, and the scenery changed to one- and two-story buildings housing either a myriad of shops or apartments filled with traveling businessmen or tourists.
 
They were halfway to the outpost, and Vance dared to allow hope into his heart.

           
Such thoughts disappeared into an ear-splitting animal scream that made the entire group slide to a stop in the road.
 
Before them was a massive Seque, even by their large standards, standing on his hind legs in the middle of the road, roaring and pounding his chest.
 
Lowering his head, he made eye contact with the startled platoon.

           
The Seque snarled ferociously and barked at the trio in front.
 
Its barks formed strange syllables, sounding like language.
 
Though Vance couldn’t understand the words, he didn’t need Yen’s psychic abilities to know the undertone—hatred.
 
Like slaves casting off their yokes of oppression and turning on their masters, the modified Seques flooded the city with the goal of destroying all those who kept them in servitude.

           
The Seque growled after it finished speaking, and other Seques hiding in the shadows took up the growl.
 
The large beasts emerged from rooftops around the soldiers, who backed toward the center of the street for protection.
 
Red eyes glowed from alleyways, as more of the creatures advanced on the trapped Alliance troops.

           
Behind them, the already bloodied Seques emerged from the side streets, having feasted on the remains of the other three platoons.
 
In front of them, behind the alpha male, more of the creatures filled the wide street.
 
Dozens of pairs of red eyes glowed in the darkness of early night.

           
Nervous soldiers pointed their rifles at any Seque they could see, trying to keep them from advancing farther.
 
Their flashlights reflected off glistening white fangs and elongated bone claws.
 
As they stood in a tense showdown, more and more of the creatures emerged from nearby roads, creating a tight circle around the soldiers.

           
“Everyone keep calm,” Vance told the soldiers.
 
“No one give them a reason to charge.”
 
He changed to his team’s internal communications channel.
 
“Everyone still here?”

           
“Yes, Sir,” Ixibas said.
 
“Tusque and I are at the back of the group.
 
Our Oterian may be big, but he’s not a fast runner.”

           
“All of you need to be ready to run when you get the signal,” Vance whispered.

           
“What’s the signal?” Yen asked, standing beside Vance.

           
“Believe me, you’ll know it when you see it.”

           
Vance, looking at the hundreds of Seques gathered around them, felt hostility pouring off them in waves.
 
“Halo, you there?” he asked quietly.

           
“Watching your every move.”

           
“Make a hole for us between our position and the outpost.
 
Bring down the fire from the heavens.”

           
“Let them be cleansed with holy flames,” she finished.

           
On
Goliath’s
belly, gun ports opened, revealing primed rockets aimed at the planet’s surface.
 
They launched silently into the void of space, hurtling toward the atmosphere.
 
Burning through at incredible speeds, they trailed a line of fire miles behind them.

           
Their fiery tails arced over the night sky, as the rockets finished accelerating through the atmosphere and penetrated the thin cloud cover with a deafening sonic boom.
 
Automated onboard systems took control, directing the rockets over the planet, angling toward the city.
 
Boosters firing, the missiles lined up with the main road.
 
Just before reaching airspace directly over the Alliance soldiers, the warheads burst open, spilling their payload of tiny spheres into the air.

           
Vance watched the trail of fire arc toward them through the air at supersonic speeds.
 
Waiting patiently, he turned on his radio when he saw the small explosion in the sky above, knowing the rockets were pouring explosive death onto the street just ahead.

           
“Everyone, find cover!” he screamed, diving behind a nearby car.

           
The small spheres plummeted to the ground, the first ones striking before the giant Seque and continuing a path of destruction up the street toward the outpost.
 
On impact, the spheres ignited in a plume of blue and purple plasma, scorching the ground and sending shockwaves that tossed aside loose debris.

           
Dozens of Seques caught on the street were consumed by the superheated flames.
 
Gray skin boiled and melted away, cracking and bursting in the heat, spilling internal organs onto the molten concrete ground.
 
The concussive blast sent shrapnel tearing through thick hides, stripping away skin and blowing off limbs.

           
Heat and smoke washed over Vance, as he huddled behind the ruined automobile.
 
He covered his ears and shut his eyes in anticipation of the bombing.
 
As the heat receded, he risked a look.

           
Though smoke hung thickly in the air, he saw the street to the north lay in ruins.
 
Concrete was lifted and shattered in a massive upheaval, leaving slabs of stone jutting at awkward angles.
 
The blast leveled many of the nearby buildings, some of which still burned, casting a soft, red glow in the night air.

           
Coughing, he looked at the stunned soldiers still hidden behind cover.
 
His eyes fell on a severed, clawed hand in the middle of the road nearby.
 
The index finger pawed the air involuntarily, spasms still rolling through the separated stump of the arm.
 
Green blood oozed from it, pooling on the ruined ground.

           
All around them, a new sound added to the crackling fire and rumble of collapsing rubble from ruined buildings—a sea of infuriated growls.
 
From alleys and buildings, glowing red eyes of Seques emerged.
 
One by one, they took up a howl of angry defiance and vengeance.

           
Vance stood and picked up his rifle.
 
“Halo bought us time!” he yelled to any soldier who could hear him.
 
“Now run!”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

           
Keryn stormed into the barracks room, fuming from her loss in the aerial joust.
 
All her training and years of practice in the secret Wyndgaart arts amounted to nothing in the Academy.
 
She couldn’t help feeling her entire childhood and schooling were a waste of time.
 
In just days, she successfully embarrassed herself, her family, and her race with her abysmal performance.

           
Iana followed her in and quietly closed the door behind her.
 
Either oblivious or uncaring, Keryn paid the Pilgrim no attention.
 
Instead, she angrily threw her pillow to the far side of the bed, only to retrieve it and toss it to its original location.
 
Frustrated with herself, Keryn sought any excuse to keep busy and think of something other than her repeated failures.

           
“It’s not all that bad,” Iana offered, standing well outside Keryn’s reach.

           
“Spare me,” she growled without turning.
 
“I’ve heard enough pep talks from Victoria to last the rest of my life.”

           
“It’s probably because she’s right.
 
You’re way too hard on yourself.
 
A couple of bad days when you’re first learning don’t mean you’re a failure.
 
So what if you didn’t win today?
 
You can always try again.
 
After all, we joust again tomorrow.
 
What’s the big deal?”

           
Keryn spun on her, tears welling in her eyes.
 
“It’s a big deal, because I never fail!
 
I may not have been the best, but I always excelled at everything I put my mind to, but this….”
 
Her anger faded, and her tone changed.
 
“I don’t understand this.
 
I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it.
 
Every time I think I have it figured out, someone shows me how wrong I was.”

           
Iana moved to Keryn’s side and put an arm around her shoulder.
 
“Then you’ll have to try harder.
 
You don’t seem like the type who’d let herself quit.”

           
“What if I just can’t do it?
 
What if I give it my all, and it’s not good enough?”

           
“Then you can leave the Academy with your head held high, knowing you did all you could.
 
That’s a damn sight better than the way you are now, constantly second-guessing yourself and fearing waking up each morning.”

           
“I’m not afraid.”
 
Keryn sat heavily on her bed.

           
“You are.
 
Most of your fear comes from the fact that all you do is either lie on the bed studying or sitting in front of your console.
 
You never give your mind a chance to rest.
 
You need to unwind once in a while, if for no other reason than to let your mind think of something else for a chance.”

           
Iana dropped on the bed beside Keryn.
 
“Last night, I extended the offer to go to the bar, and you said, ‘No.’
 
Tonight, I won’t give you that option.
 
Get up, get over yourself, and get ready to go out.”

           
Groaning, Keryn fell into the bed and buried her face in her pillow.