Havoc

19 One Good Man

Dred felt like shit abandoning the rest of the group like that, but if she hadn’t done something, between the grenades and that sonic whatever the hell it was, Vost would’ve killed them all. Pain blazed in her sternum with each ringing stride, each step carrying her farther from Jael. And the others, of course.

I’m not far from Queensland. They can hang on. They have to hang on.

Her breath sounded extra loud inside the helmet, and she was rushing toward the barricades when she realized she must look like a lone suicidal merc. Though she couldn’t see the sentries on the other side, she called, “It’s me. Stand down. Get Ike immediately and tell him to bring the Peacemaker.”

Though it wasn’t ideal, it was the only solution she could think of. Nothing else provided sufficient firepower to defeat Vost now that he’d dug in and brought out the heavy artillery. She didn’t like revealing the territory’s secret weapon, but maybe it would make him wary of a full-scale invasion. He might imagine we have more of them.

If only we did.

“We’ll have to dismantle the blockade for the mech to get past,” the sentry said.

“It’s fine. Just make it fast.”

Next, she gave directions to where she’d last seen the merc unit, then she ran back the way she’d come. Ike will find us. If I can hit Vost from behind, I might distract him from the others. Scraps of strategy whirled in her head, but she didn’t settle on any one solution. In this armor, it was impossible to be quiet, and the rags the soldier had wrapped around the boots reduced traction. Dred felt clumsy and frantic as she ran.

Battle sounds echoed from some distance away, the boom of grenades and the unearthly hum of the weapon that had melted a hole in the floor. It wasn’t a laser, but Dred had no idea what it could be. Disruptors were smaller, so far as she knew, but maybe they had upgraded them during her turns inside. Just what the universe needs. She was afraid that they’d all be dead when she got back—that Ike and the Peacemaker would arrive too late, but the cadence of shots fired and rounds returned steadied her shaky nerves somewhat.

When Dred ran the fight down, she saw that the mercs had shifted, splitting their forces to cover the passage and keep her stranded people from getting past. The corridor was a T, with the mercs on the right and the rest of her people around the corner to the left. At the base of the straightway lay the entrance to Queensland, complete with turrets and barricades. It wasn’t the checkpoint she had approached before, however. This is east. Hope Ike gets here fast. We don’t have much time.

The merc laid down a line of intermittent red light, pinning her in the hallway on the wrong side. She returned fire, but her single rifle wasn’t enough to penetrate good cover, especially not against armored targets. Someone—Tam or maybe Jael—added to the onslaught, but the mercs had a good position.

Maybe they can circle—but if I call it out, the mercs will hear. Wish we had some way to communicate over distance. Given time, Ike might jury-rig something from the merc helmets, but he would need to use a different frequency. Otherwise, the enemy could listen to all updates. That won’t help. Ike might also be able to assemble a device that would knock out the mercs’ frequency. That would cripple their ability to scramble teams across the station, a definite boon for Queensland, but there was no way to know until she talked to the old man about it.

She situated herself close to the turrets and took aim each time an enemy popped into sight. But they were skilled with the bob and weave, and she did nothing but drain her ammo charge. An eerie hum vibrated the flooring, and Dred tensed. He’s using the big gun again. If fate was kind, the thing would explode in Vost’s hands, solving the problem. But no such luck. She heard a whine, then there was screaming. Her stomach swam with sickness and fear. The Dread Queen would never feel this way, but Dred was panicked. He’s going to kill them all if Ike doesn’t get here soon. Then the reassuring clomp of mechanized footsteps echoed throughout the hall. Thank Mary, he’s coming from behind. He must’ve circled around from the south, where I was before.

“What’s that?” she heard a merc say.

Don’t waste time with the usual warnings, she willed Ike. Put the thing on manual.

The mech could be programmed with facial recognition, but urgency didn’t allow for such finesse. Better for Ike to just operate the bot. To her vast relief, the Peacemaker unit stomped into view and immediately went to work with the Shredder. The rounds tore through the walls as if they were made of butter, slamming into mercs and armor with equal facility. Shouts of pain rang out.

“Pause,” she told Ike, low. “Let’s bring our people home.” If he didn’t stop the Peacemaker, the rounds would annihilate the Queenslanders, too. Then she yelled, “Jael, push, push now! But stay low.”

In the confusion, the rest of her team slammed past the mercs. They brought weapons to bear and before she could tell Ike that their people were clear—to get the guns going again—the first soldier shot him full in the chest. The remote bounced out of his hand and she dove for it in reflex, even as horror and disbelief overwhelmed her. He’s the only one who didn’t belong here. The only one who should’ve made it. Rage filled her in a towering wave. If her own people hadn’t been so close, she would’ve opened her brain and let a tsunami of bloodlust drown them.

You’re lucky, assholes. Today you don’t pull each other apart with your bare hands.

With shaking hands, she took up the remote and activated the Peacemaker. Its broad back provided cover fire in retreat, even as Jael knelt to lift Ike’s body. Everyone was stunned, silent, as they moved away from the mercs. Vost was yelling something at his men, but they didn’t want to fight a Peacemaker. Dred didn’t blame them even as she hoped to see their bodies fall, just as Ike had.

He came out to save us. And he died.

It was just so impossible, so awful, that she couldn’t look directly at Jael. The old man’s silver head lolled against his shoulder. Her ears rang from the roar of the Shredder, and as she turned, a grenade landed at her feet. Jael was fast enough to boot it back and the explosion rocked the corridor behind them. Smoke and cursing filled the air, so she keyed the follow command for the Peacemaker and let its huge back cover their escape.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” Tam said quietly.

“No talking until we cross the border.” Her voice was stern because it had to be.

If she spoke of Ike right now, she’d crumble, and the others would see that the Dread Queen was a myth of other people’s making. They would glimpse her feet of clay, and maybe they’d stop following her orders. With the mercs coming in hard, Mungo on the warpath, and Silence wanting to cut her throat and drink her blood, she couldn’t afford to show weakness even if each step hurt as if she had spikes embedded in her heels. With each breath, she inhaled a dead man’s fear, a dead man’s sweat, until she wanted to tear off the helmet and cast it aside and just scream until her throat bled.

She kept it locked down.

The sentries stood, looking worried, as the Peacemaker knocked down the east barricade. Wordlessly, she escorted her crew past, stepping over the wreckage as if the mission had been a success. Jael came last, with Ike cradled against his chest. The old man’s chest was a black hole, the shirt fused to his skin in a charred pucker.

“I can rebuild the junk wall,” Ali said.

The Rodeisian female seemed to carry the weight of the sacrifice on her broad, furred shoulders, and she must be of the opinion that she needed to give something back. But nothing could ever be enough. Dred just nodded as the Ithtorian set to work beside Ali. She trusted them enough to see the job done properly and continued on to the common room, with Tam and Martine flanking her.

The Queenslanders cheered when they noticed her decked out in full merc armor, even more when Martine and Tam lofted the rifles they had recovered. But the crowd fell silent when Jael stepped forward and laid Ike on a table. He leaned down and touched his brow to the old man’s, a quiet moment that probably meant things she didn’t understand. Then Jael straightened and closed Ike’s eyes for good.

With the last of her self-control, Dred pulled off her helmet. She hoped she was wearing her Dread Queen face, not revealing all the pain and sorrow she felt at the loss of the only good man inside Perdition. There were so many things she wanted to say—and so few would fit the image she wore like a crown of thorns.

“How many among you did Ike help?” She paced among the men.

A rumble of affirmative answers swept the room. Their faces were shocked. Ike wasn’t one you imagined would die in battle, defending the territory. And in truth, it had been more of an execution.

Congratulations, Vost. You gunned down an old man.

She went on, “The question is, what’re we going to do about this?”

“Take the fight to them!” all of Queensland shouted.

Easier said than done.

But she gave away none of her fear, none of her reservations. She didn’t mention the grenades or the big guns. The Dread Queen took over, preaching blood and retribution. She spoke in ringing tones until the men were calling her name over and over. It didn’t bring Ike back, but it drove the shock and horror out of their faces, replacing it with righteous anger. Perdition might be a hellhole, but she’d carved out a place, and she would defend it with her last breath.

There is nothing more ferocious than men defending their homes, Commander. I hope you’re ready. As Martine would say, it’s about to get bloody up in here.