Timeless (The Cartographer Book 3) (28 page)

“Calypso is evil,” I argued. “He betrayed the Consortium with his blatant power grab. He murdered several people in the process so he can assume the leadership of the Consortium. If that's who you want to hitch your trailer to than you will pay for the consequences of those decisions.”

In a blind rage, I placed the barrel of the gun to his forehead. Janero stopped talking and went stiff. All I could see was the image of Kedge's battered corpse buried underneath a mountain of steel.

“WAIT!” Janero begged. “Is this what you want? Do you remember my invitation to you on Gorganna?” His eyes pleaded with me. “Join us, Nathan. Together, we can work with Calypso to fix the Consortium and transform it into the organization it was meant to be. Together, we can end this conflict and spare the universe from further bloodshed. We can prevent another catastrophe like Gorganna…like Earth!”

I removed the barrel of the gun from his forehead and backed up a step. An angry, red circle remained where the barrel touched his skin, a stark reminder to how hard I had been pressing down. Janero closed his eyes, breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. Cantrell studied me intently, trying to anticipate my next move. Bofor stood with his arms crossed with a fierce scowl plastered on his face. Hiro walked away to attend to Athew, who had been propped against another vehicle closer to the road, his cries of pain subsided long ago, which caused me to question whether he survived the battle at all.

I dropped my arm to my side and tapped the gun against my leg. Bolts of pain stabbed the base of my skull, an early indicator that a tropical storm of a headache was in the process of brewing into a full blow hurricane. Janero's smile could have been innocent or it could have been a sign there was more sinister work afoot. Frankly, I grew tired of the whole chess game. While The Timeless danced around with Calypso, innocent lives were being lost. It was time to take matters into my own hands.

I brought the gun up and placed it against his forehead again. The smile melted off his face. “What are you doing?” he demanded. He scowled. If it was his intention to scare me off with his look, than he failed miserably. I was no longer in the mood to play chess.

“I'm doing what needs to be done,” I replied.

Janero reached up and touched the radiation scars that marred the side of his face. He caressed it softly. “I have already been to hell. You will not hear me beg for I do not regret my actions.”

I pulled the trigger. His head exploded like a watermelon underneath a sledgehammer. He slumped to the ground, the remains of his face unrecognizable under the newly created canyon that made up a large portion of his forehead. I straddled his corpse and let the gun drop to my side once again. “I do not regret my actions either,” I acknowledged with a sigh. “Regret died within me long ago.”

Hiro half-carried, half-dragged Athew over to where we stood. Athew heavily favored his wounded knee, which oozed blood under the makeshift bandage Hiro created. The wound looked grisly, but he would survive. The other mercenaries were not so lucky.

“That's how you kill someone,” Athew roared. “Maybe you will make a good mercenary after all.” He roared laughter, but had to stop when he coughed up a bloody wad of phlegm. “Bah, I think I cracked a rib,” he mused.

“He's no mercenary,” Cantrell interrupted and stepped toward me. “No, I think this one is destined to be something more than just a lowly grunt.”

“I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or a warning,” I replied.

Cantrell shrugged, but commented no further on the subject. Instead, he patrolled the area of battle and inspected the bodies of the fallen. He stopped at the body of one of his mercenaries and crouched down. Taking the person's head in his hands, he gently removed the helmet to reveal Shrade, the overly quiet Erudite female. Her large, bulbous eyes stared at the sky. The black film covering them had already begun the decaying process, becoming a smoky gray. Cantrell reached down and plucked a necklace that hung loosely at her neck. I peered over his shoulder to sneak a peek. A gold locket with a symbol, painted in red, dangled from a silver chain. The symbol resembled a 4, except the bottom curved to the right, like a fish hook.

“What is that?” I craned my neck to get a closer look.

He shoved the object in his pocket and stood upright. “It is the symbol of her house. She had been cast out long ago by the Erudites and it was the last thing item she possessed to remember her family.”

“Cast out?” I questioned. “How is someone cast from the Erudites?” From what I remembered, they were a peaceful species who sought knowledge and enlightenment and were nothing more than neutral messengers. I recalled Bree N'Dadi and the day we met. Satou had explained the Erudites were the only species in the known universe to develop the ability to teleport over short distances.

“She preferred action over words,” Cantrell explained as sadness crept into his eyes. It was from that moment that I understood he had cared about her more than he let on. “Her family rejected her as soon as she joined us.” He walked away and said no more on the subject.

“He was fond of her,” Athew said. “He never admitted as much, of course, but no one knows that grouchy bastard better than I do.”

“It's hard to care for someone when you are constantly surrounded by fighting and death.” I evaded any further discussion on the matter by scampering off to Bofor's location. He stood over the corpse of Barrel-Chest.

“He was stubborn, but he was a good man,” Bofor stated without looking at me. “The rebellion has been going on for years, but I was a spectator more than a participant. I preferred passing messages over drinks rather than involving myself directly.” He turned to me, his face filled with sadness.

“This is your chance to make a difference,” I offered. “You can either stand up to the Order of the Sun or continue to skulk in the shadows, like a wounded puppy.”

“Strong words, but fair,” he grumbled. He threw the guitar over his shoulder and disappeared inside the bar.

“Come on, we need to move,” Cantrell said. He had Janero's weapon slung over his shoulder and Bella's discarded rifle in his hands. “I'm sure reinforcements will be here soon. Let's recover Kedge and get back to the shuttle before we become cannon fodder.”

I led the group past Bofor's tavern and along the trail Vigil and I walked earlier. We followed the path until we arrived at the hill, which overlooked the area where Kedge had been killed. When we crossed the hill, I spotted his corpse about twenty yards away from where the bottom of the hill met the open field. I ran to him despite Cantrell's attempts to stop me. He may have been afraid of snipers lurking in the shadows, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get Kedge back home.

I crouched over his corpse, returned my weapon to its holster, and slipped my hand under his neck. His bionic eye had been ripped from the socket and his face was caked with dried blood. His other eye stared blankly at the sky above. Despite all of the blood and bruises, the thing I found the most disturbing was his mouth. His lips were curled into a smile.

“Don't ever do that again,” gasped Cantrell, trying to catch his breath. He paused when he saw Kedge's corpse. “It looks your friend here died with satisfaction on his face.”

I whirled on him, my cheeks flush with anger. “Satisfaction? It looks like he was run over by a bus. Would
you
be satisfied?”

Cantrell held up his hands. “Whoa, slow down, sparky. I am simply implying that his goal was to stop the enemy long enough to allow you to escape. You got away, so he accomplished what he set out to do.” He crouched over the corpse. “Take your tampon out, stop whining, and help me figure out how we are gonna get him back to the shuttle.”

My rage boiled over to the point I had to control myself from reaching over, shoving my rifle down his throat, and pulling the trigger. I calmed down because I knew he had a point. Before I could bend down to grab him, a loud humming sound came from somewhere above us. When I turned toward it, my heart sank.

“
Lay down your weapons and kneel on the ground
!”

Five floating skiffs appeared above us, filled with soldiers from the Order of the Sun. Guns as big as bazookas had been mounted on the rails which were currently pointed at us. A man in the lead skiff was dressed in robes similar to Mazu and held a cylindrical object that looked to be some kind of microphone.

“This is Tialoc, Minister of Emerald Quarry and on behalf of the Order of the Sun, I demand your unconditional surrender!”

Hiro and Athew finally caught up to us. “Oh, unconditional surrender he says,” grumbled Athew. “In that case, let me drop my drawers.”

Cantrell's finger twitched on the trigger of his rifle, as if he was contemplating our chances of survival. Based on the fact there were at least thirty soldiers aboard the skiffs, I calculated our chances of survival and came up with a negative number.

“I hate to admit, but I have a real hard time surrendering,” Cantrell replied. “My mother always told me I was stubborn.”

“I'm sorry to tell you this, but as you can see, I have a bum knee,” grumbled Athew. “I won't be able to kneel for ya.”

The skiffs landed roughly thirty yards away. I had been mistaken about the ships being loaded with soldiers. Forlorn slave faces gazed at us from behind the oversized steering controls. Two slaves piloted each skiff and I was astonished at the trust the Order placed in the hands of slaves. The population had proven its disdain for the government and it only took a single determined slave to steer the skiff into a cliff side, into the ocean, or straight into the Badlands. Fear had been a powerful tool to keep them in check. Forcing them to watch as their liberators were captured was simply icing on the cake.

“I told you this was a suicide mission,” Cantrell whispered. “We put up the good fight, kid, but the good guys don't always win in the end.”

It was over.

I had been cradling Kedge's head during the entire exchange. I placed his head gently on the ground and stood up when I heard the clicking sound of a rifle being cocked.

“Surrender is not an option,” Hiro explained with a shrug as he curled his finger around the trigger.

Athew removed his arm from Hiro's shoulder and fell to the ground, clutching his knee in pain. “Go get 'em. Make sure you shoot straight for once.”

I removed the last mobile turret from my pocket and turned it over in my hand, deep in thought. The tree line was too far away to make effective cover and the open field where we currently stood offered none. If I deployed the turret, it would not only take out the Order's soldiers, but us as well.
It was indeed suicide
. “I hope our sacrifice will be worth it in the end,” I muttered.

Cantrell laughed. “I suppose it all depends on whether people will celebrate on our graves or piss on them.”

The skiffs landed and the soldiers poured out of them with their rifles trained on us. A few remained behind to man the cannons. If I deployed the turret right at that moment, it would take out most of them based on their close proximity to each other. I cocked my hand back, but before I could toss it, an explosion rocked the skiff furthest from us.

Confusion and panic took over. Athew remained on the ground with his lips forming a comical
O
. Hiro backed away, keeping his rifle trained on the closest skiff.

“Take cover!” Cantrell shouted, pointing towards the trees.

Hiro and Cantrell grabbed Athew by the arms and dragged him toward the trees. As I hurried after them, I turned around and glanced back to make sure no one was following us. The explosion took everyone by surprise. The soldiers scattered in an attempt to locate their newest adversary. The screams of those who had been caught in the burning skiff reverberated so loudly through my helmet that I thought I imagined it until the first flaming bodies exited the wreckage and ran circles around the other soldiers. I couldn't watch the horror any longer and as I turned to follow Cantrell and the others, I ran into something that was as solid as a brick wall. I tumbled to the ground which caused my weapon to fly out of my hands where it landed several feet away.

I thought I had hit a tree until I looked up to see an eight foot tall bear, decked out in metal shoulder pads and a breastplate, wielding a giant two-headed hammer. With a look of surprise, he slung the hammer over his shoulder and smiled.

“Better get out of the way unless you want to get trampled,” he stated.

Arcturus moved aside and I scrambled to retrieve my weapon. Cantrell and Hiro approached me with Athew in tow. Arcturus was right. It had been lucky I moved, because behind him came Vayne and his crew of mini-Vayne's, rushing from the woods. Vayne gripped a pistol in each hand, firing upon the skiffs with fine-tuned precision and cool calculation. His crew, however, was nothing more than an uncoordinated band of hooligans. They fired wildly and shouted random obscenities to no one in particular. They seemed to be present more for distraction and intimidation than anything else. Their shots were random, hitting nothing but sky, ground, and tree.

Arcturus charged the nearest skiff. He lifted his hammer and brought it down in one vicious stroke, smashing the front into a pile of scrap metal, while sending the pilots scrambling for cover. Another explosion rocked the second skiff. Embeth emerged from the woods armed with a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. Vigil followed him, firing his wrist weapon upon the scattered soldiers.

Cantrell and Hiro propped Athew against a nearby tree and joined the battle. Soldiers from the third skiff fired the cannons on our position. I rolled out of the way as the cannon fire struck only feet from where I once stood. The blast created a basketball-sized crater that one of Vayne's minions could not avoid in time. He crawled out of it, muttering curses, brushed himself off and continued towards the enemy, as if nothing had happened.

“This is insanity,” I groaned as I surveyed the chaos surrounding me.

I trained my weapon on the nearest cannoneer. My aim was off, but nonetheless effective. Even though I was aiming for the gunner, I hit the cannon instead, creating a shower of sparks and metal fragments that made him duck for cover. The distraction allowed Vayne and his minions to overtake the skiff.