Defiance Rising (6 page)

With a loud bellow, Bastien rushes from the office and hurls something down at the Caldonians.
 
The three Squaddies leap out of the way as metal drawers from a desk crash to the ground.
  

“We’ve got one trapped in the old fabrication warehouse.
 
Send backup.”
 
A small black device on the alien’s shoulder crackles as a response arrives a second later.
 
My heart sinks as moments later I hear boots, pounding up the street at a dead run, over the groaning of metal machines slowly disintegrating.
 

Bastien heaves an armful of drawers over the ledge and I close my eyes.
 
One.
 
Two.
 
Three.

As the aliens take cover from Bastien’s newest office supply assault, I tuck my head and drop.
 
A chair crashing to the floor masks my grunt of pain when I land.
 
The roller wheels pop off and spin in all directions.
 

I stagger to my feet in the shadows and back up against the outer wall.
 
The air on the second floor looks thicker, laden with smoke, but the first floor offers a hazy mix of moonlight sifting through thick clouds of smoke.
 
I cup my hand over my mouth, filtering my breaths through the wool cloth.

Black clad soldiers pour through the front door opening, fanning out in a line.
 
I sink low, crouching behind the remains of a machine as the Squaddies fire random shots to the second floor walkway.
 
Bastien times their fire, waiting until the Caldonians are forced to recharge before attacking again.
 

Office supplies rain down from above, pelting the aliens as their reinforcements arrive.
 
A tall alien marches forward to stand beside the three soldiers.
 
His eyes are deep-set and flicker like the flames all around.
 
“What do we have?”

“One teenage boy on the walkway directly above, sir.”

The alien nods and steps back as a gray, two-drawer cabinet is flung over the solid railing.
 
“Is he alone?”
 

“Yes, sir.
 
As far as we can tell.”

I breathe a sigh of relief that I’ve gone unnoticed but that relief quickly fades as the tall alien speaks into a black device, identical to the one used only a moment ago.
 
It is clipped to his chest, directly over three vivid red moon emblems.
 
“Land a squadron on the roof.
 
Let’s flush him out.”

He must be a Gentry,
I think as a rhythmic beating of a Sky Ship’s engine approaches.
 
We are running out of time.

I could escape through the back wall, and I might even make it if I cling to the shadows, but I can’t leave Bastien.
 
Not after he risked his life for me.
 

Even if I manage to get off a couple good shots, I know I’ll be taken by the reinforcements at the back of the factory.
 
I’ve only got two blades but maybe I can do enough damage to take that Gentry alive and use him as a bargaining chip.
 

No matter how I look at this, I know this isn’t going to end well for me, but I still can’t bring myself to leave Bastien behind.
 
I bend over and crawl on my hands and knees, inching my way past the fallen stairs to get a better view.
 

“Get him down, now!”
 
The Gentry growls as he dodges a disfigured metal trashcan.
 
It clatters past and rolls to a stop against one of the machines.
 
I peek out from my hiding place and watch him plant his feet, rigid and motionless apart from a tic under his right eye.
 
His gaunt cheeks pull taut as he leers up at the floor above, a crazed fervor gleaming in his eye.
 
I shudder as he fingers a long curved blade at his hip.
 

The way the Gentry caresses the black hilt reminds me of Eamon’s affection for his spear.
 
I reach back and run my finger along my own blades and feel a jolt of realization.
 
He’s a hunter.
 
I have no doubt this man will take pleasure in personally gutting Bastien when they catch him.

Suddenly, a strange burning sensation in my fingers grabs my attention.
 
The burn climbs through my fingers and reaches my wrists.
 
I gasp as tears sting my eyes.
 

Something is wrong.

I sink back against the wall and clutch my hands to my stomach.
 
Like dipping frozen fingers in water, the burn is nearly unbearable.
 
I fight back a moan, knowing I need to move, to get in a better position, but I’m paralyzed by the pain.

My pulse quickens as I tug at my arms.
 
An irrational desire to remove the pain from my flesh with my knife makes me bite my lip.
 
I open my mouth in a silent scream as I claw at my forearms.

Pressing back against the wall, I hardly flinch when the second floor erupts with fire, bubbling the paint off the concrete block wall.
 
I can feel the residual heat but it can’t compete with the internal agony crawling up toward my chest.
 

“Cease fire!”
 
The commanding alien holds up his hand.
 
The device at his shoulder comes alive.
 
“Roof structure compromised.
 
Unsafe to land.”

I lean my head back against the wall to peer through a second floor window.
 
The moon disappears directly overhead as the Sky Ship moves away.
 

The Squaddies inch forward, obviously anxious for a fight.
 
I can see it on their faces.
 
There is a wild gleam in their eyes, lit by the crackling fires all around.
 

“Commander Drakon?
 
What are your orders, sir?”
 
I bite down on my lip as the pain vines up my arms, twisting around my elbows.
 
I strain to listen to the Gentry’s answer but his words sound jumbled in my mind.

I watch as Drakon tilts his head to the side and contemplates the walkway.
 
His gaze darts across the wide, silent expanse.
 
It has been nearly a minute since Bastien launched anything over the side.
 
“He’s out of ammo.
 
Attack!”

Drakon turns on his heel and marches toward the front of the factory as his men rush forward, clumping in two small groups as they hurl some sort of rope and metal claw up over the ledge.
 
I know I should do something to help Bastien but I can’t think past the agony winding its way up toward my shoulders.

As the first two men begin to climb, I lurch to my feet.
 
I have to do something.
 
Anything.
 
Commander Drakon turns to watch when he reaches the overturned reception desk as his men scramble up black ropes.
 
More Squaddies arrive at the door, but he holds up his hand and they fall back.
 

A tall alien with a wide mustache calls back over his shoulder from the base of the rope, “Shoot to kill?”

I lean around the machine, desperate to see his commander’s response but I don’t need to.
 
Judging by maniacal grin that stretches across the soldier’s face, he got the answer he was hoping for.

Anger tears through me, rippling through muscle and bone.
 
I can physically feel it, boiling and visceral in my belly.
 
As the first two aliens slip over the ledge, disappearing from sight, I hear a guttural scream from above.
  

I lose control.

When I step out into the light, I’m shaking from head to foot.
 
The scalding energy bubbling within me is excruciating.
 
Sweat streams down my brow, stinging my eyes but I barely notice it.
 
“Get away from him!”

An alien plummets head first from the backside of the second floor.
 
I hear his neck snap and he slumps over, unmoving.
 
The sound of fighting on the second floor escalates.

The cluster of aliens at the bottom of the ropes turns and centers their targets on my heart.
 
“There’s another one!”

Drakon comes at me in a sprint, but I perceive everything in slow motion.
 
The staircase overhead rattles.
 
Nuts and bolts spring in all directions as it peels away from the second floor.
 
The aliens cast terrified glances over my head but I don’t focus on them.
 
All I can feel is the pain mingling with my rage, seeping from my very pores.
 
I have to save Bastien.

Another alien falls from the second floor but I hardly take notice this time; I’m blinded by six laser guns as they hum to life, charged and lethal.
 
The screeching of metal muffles my scream as the staircase rips away from the wall.
 
My fingers curl inward like claws as I raise my arms over my head.
 
I feel the weight of the stairs hovering overhead but I don’t stop to consider how this is even possible.
 
I just react.

My vision darkens as I thrust my arms out toward the aliens.
 
The metal staircase slams into the first group, while the second barely has time to turn before they’re broadsided.
 
Sparks fly as the stairs hurtle across the floor, pinning Squaddies as it goes until it slams into the far wall in a twisted heap and a sickening crunch.

The heat vanishes from my fingers, suddenly and completely.
 
I slump to the floor, gasping for breath as pain carves into my chest.
 
Sweat clings to my body like a second skin, sticky and oppressive. My anger fades with each labored pant.
 
Weakened, I rise slowly to my feet to face off with Drakon.
 

“Who are you?” he asks, eyes wide.

I can feel the weighted stares of the soldiers as they appear at his back, resigned to follow their commander’s barked order to remain back.
 
I wipe my brow, feeling the sting of sweat in my eyes.

“Who are you?” he demands again, taking a step closer.

I raise my hand and he pauses.
 
I know the pain is gone and the anger has fled but he doesn’t.
 
“Stay back.”

He moves backward three steps, eyeing me with a mixture of awe and something else.
 
Something shrewd and calculating.
 
“I won’t hurt you.”

“Like I’m going to believe you.”
 
I struggle to keep my voice strong.

“You have my word.”

I shift my stance slightly and dart a glance over my shoulder.
 
I find Bastien peering down at me from over the ledge.
 
A wide bloody gash has opened over his right eye and the other looks like it’s going to be swollen shut by morning.
 

I glance back at Drakon, noting that he has inched closer.
 
I glare at him.
 
“Will you let my friend and me leave?”

It’s easy to read the bloodlust in the eyes of the aliens behind him, but the commander has a far more potent expression. The color of his eyes shifts, taking on the appearance of dark molasses. I know I have to be careful.
 
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.
 
There are…rules against letting humans run free.”

“Figured you’d say that,” I mutter and take a step back.
 
A Squaddie breaks out of rank behind Drakon and aims his laser directly at my chest.
 
I stare into the core of his gun, at the core that swirls beautiful green instead of crimson.
 
It is mesmerizingly beautiful.

“Duck!” Bastien screams from overhead.

Brilliant emerald light slices through the air toward me.
 
I drop to the ground, landing with enough force to bruise my ribs.
 
I clutch my side as I roll and notice the burn mark on the wall where my head had been only seconds before.

I throw out my hands and shove the nearest machine right at the squadron of soldiers.
 
Drakon grunts and dives to the side just before it hits.
 
The sound of screams and breaking bones fills the room as I scramble to my feet.
 
“Run, Bastien!”