Resonance 4th Edits - Bleeding Worlds Bk 3 (5 page)

The hanger walls were metal, but the floor was a poured concrete.

A wave rose from the concrete, which Brandt rode, at a crushing pace toward their enemy.

His gauntleted hand smashed into his opponent’s abdomen. Even if he wore armor, his fist would punch through it. He’d grab hold of the bastard’s spine and pull it out where his navel used to be.

It should’ve happened. Not too long ago he’d put his fist through a Curse.

Instead, the bastard rolled with the punch, wearing a smile.

Brandt brought his left fist around, hoping to catch his opponent in the chin, but his fist flew through empty air, throwing his balance off. He took a couple of stumbling steps forward.

Something slammed into him from the side, tossing him back ten feet.

The enemy stretched his neck, moving his head side to side. Greasy, stringy, silver hair framed a skeletally thin face that studied him with gray, dead, eyes. His mouth opened wide, as though he was shouting at Brandt—who couldn’t hear anyway because of the literal rocks in his head.

It was no ordinary shout. The wave slammed into Brandt. Trying to stay on his feet was like walking headfirst into a tornado.

I will not fall.

Brandt gnashed his teeth and leaned into the wave. He willed the concrete to raise, so he had something to grasp.

As the second wave ceased, Brandt tore chunks out of the raised concrete and hurled them at his enemy who dodged each one. Though he didn’t dodge, he seemed to phase from one place to another, leaving ghostly trails of images of himself blending together in a single, elongated, blur.

Someone tapped Brandt’s shoulder.

He wheeled around, his fist missing Katsuro’s face by hundredths of an inch.

Katsuro pointed his fingers at his ears.

“What?” Brandt said.

Katsuro gave him an exasperated look.

Oh, right, I can’t hear him.

Brandt willed one of the ear plugs back to gel and pulled it from his ear with a sucking
pop!

“Make it quick, I’m kind of in the middle of a battle here,” Brandt said, rubbing furiously at his ear.

Though at the moment, the battle seemed quiet—his opponent having disappeared.

“That’s what I need to tell you. The Einherjar are Woten’s elite—Anunnaki recruited by the Valkyries from a multitude of worlds. The one you’re fighting is Kydoimos. He uses auditory and visual hallucinations to confuse his enemies. On his world, he was considered the personification of war. The ear plug thing was a good trick, but you can’t beat him.”

“I’m plenty strong enough to beat him,” Brandt huffed.

“Don’t turn this into a pride thing. You’re strong, a good fighter, but robbed of one or more of your senses, you’re less effective. Being less effective is going to get you killed.”

A war hammer crashed through the space between them, forcing them apart.

“Katsuro,” Kydoimos said. “You finally decided to crawl out of that dank dungeon you’ve been hiding in.”

Sutr leapt to blazing life in Katsuro’s hand.

“It’s still brighter than the darkness here.”

Katsuro slashed with his sword. A wall of flame leapt from Sutr’s tip, spreading up and out, pushing Kydoimos back.

“Go. Get your friends out of here,” Katsuro said to Brandt. “We have little chance of beating him, and even if we do, we’ll destroy every chance of escaping. I know him. I’ll be able to hold him off so you can escape.”

Brandt had to remind himself this was a stranger. And even if he wasn’t, he made sense. Brandt wasn’t sure what he’d fallen into, but everything had obviously gone to shit. None of whatever plan existed had worked. When things reached that point, there was only one course of action, only one goal, that mattered…Survival.

“Fine,” he said. “But don’t be a martyr. Get out if you can.”

Brandt dashed back to where the others were.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked.

“We need to find something that flies, and flies fast, and get the hell out of here.”

Jason looked to where Katsuro faced off against Kydoimos.

“But we should help—“

“No! We should take the man’s advice and get out of here alive. Jay, I threw a punch that would level a house—that guy took it with a smile. We’re not winning here. Katsuro’s giving us a chance to escape and we should take it.”

Jason hesitated. Of all people, he would. Katsuro, their Katsuro, had been his mentor. Together, they were the only two Scripts in Suture—aside from the immortals who were too far removed to be peers.

“Fine,” Jason finally said through a clenched jaw.

He took a deep breath and pulled his shoulders back.

“Marie,” he said, “check out everything that looks like a jet. See if you can fly it and that it’s big enough to carry us all. Go.”

She said nothing, just disappeared in a blur.

“Brandt,” Jason continued, “block all the other entrances. Hopefully, it buys us some more time. Caelum, give Katsuro some long distance firing support. Maybe give him a chance to get a few hits in.”

“I should help Katsuro,” Pridament said.

Jason regarded him with deep inspecting eyes.

“I know who you are,” he said. “And no, you’re not helping Katsuro. I won’t risk losing the kind of power you give us. We could be flying straight into a war zone. I think we’re going to need you to cover our escape.”

Marie seemed to materialize out of thin air.

“I think I’ve got something to get us out of here,” she said.

“Good. Everyone, let’s go. We are leaving.”

The group reassembled and followed Marie to something Jason supposed was a kind of jet. It reminded him of the United States stealth fighters—all sharp angles and stubby wings. But it looked large enough to carry them all.

“The only problem,” Marie said, “is I don’t know how we’re getting out. There’re no controls on the plane to open the hanger doors. If someone has to leave the hanger to open the doors, they’ll never get back without being captured.”

Jason studied the hanger door.

“I think I have an idea,” he said. “Brandt, Pridament, I’m going to need your help. Jackson, take Gwynn. Make sure he and Sophia are secured on board.”

After handing Gwynn to Jackson, Pridament joined Jason and Brandt.

“Pridament, you use that lightning of yours to weaken the center of the hanger door. Then Brandt, shove a wedge of concrete into it, then rip that thing open. Doable?”

Pridament nodded,
yes
.

On the other hand, Brandt didn’t look too convinced.

“You know I’m going to rip the hell out of the floor doing that, right?” Brandt asked. “I don’t know if Marie will be even able to taxi over what’s left.”

Jason slapped Brandt on the shoulder.

“I believe in you, buddy,” Jason said.

Brandt had the distinct impression he also heard,
Figure out a way, or we’re screwed.

Pridament summoned Mjolner from the Veil. A thin bolt of lightning blasted from the top of the hammer, striking the top center of the door.

Pridament pushed closer to the door. White sparks skipped from the surface, glowing white and orange beneath the lightning’s assault. He cut the beam down the door at a slow, steady pace. When the bolt started skimming the floor, Pridament ceased the flow.

“All yours,” he said.

Brandt moved to where he faced the center of the door head on. In some places, it had fractured beneath the heat of Pridament’s bolt. The few places where it remained intact still showed substantial melting and sizzled.

Brandt shook his arms loose and cracked his neck side to side.

Don’t fuck up the floor, don’t fuck up the floor, don’t fuck up…

He spread his arms wide, wiggling his fingers like he was gathering puppet strings in preparation for a performance. He rose his hands upward, gathering concrete from the floor on the far side of the hanger. When he figured he had enough, he slapped his hands together. An earthquake rumble of concrete roared from opposite sides and massed together ten feet in front of the door. Brandt angled his hands, mimicking a wedge, with his finger tips forming the pointed end. When the concrete followed his form, he shoved forward. The wedge mimicked his motion, slamming against the door, jamming into the weakened metal which screamed at the assault. He wiggled his fingers, trying to squeeze the point of the concrete wedge deeper, so he could get a grip on the edges of the door.

Now.

Brandt threw his arms open, feeling strain and beads of sweat pouring down his back as though he were trying to tear open the door with his hands.

The concrete was slower to part than Brandt’s arms. The sections of the door howled in protest, a shriek loud and high pitched—an auditory assault worse than fingernails on blackboards.

He couldn’t tear the door straight apart. Aside from it creating problems as to where the metal would go, it also meant he would have to keep the wall of concrete its full height the entire time he pushed the door apart. That would’ve destroyed the floor, which would then wreck the landing struts on the jet, which meant their escape would be pointless. Even if the struts held for lift off—which they probably wouldn’t—they’d never be able to land. But by angling the way he tore the door, he could gradually decrease the concrete resources he needed, letting the excess drop and smooth on the floor. When it was all done, he had a hole large enough for the jet and a floor—even if not perfect— good enough to roll over.

Jason grabbed Brandt before his weakened legs gave out.

“Good job buddy,” Jason said. “I knew I could count on you.”

Brandt’s chuckle was weak.

“You didn’t give me much choice.”

“No,” Jason replied, “I didn’t.”

They looked beyond the torn door. All they saw was a solid wall.

“I can’t fix that,” Brandt offered.

Pridament ran through the torn door and inspected the space.

“It’s a lift. We’re probably still below the surface.”

Great,
Jason thought.
A hanger door and elevator, all probably requiring an operator in some external control room. Who were you going to leave behind to do that job, eh Katsuro?

“We’re good,” Pridament called. “I can see the motors for the lift. I should be able to spark them to life.”

“Good. Then we’re out of here.”

Jason helped Brandt to the jet’s ramp. Caelum still stood there, firing a volley of arrows into the fray between Katsuro and Kydoimos.

“I’m good,” Brandt said. “I can get up the ramp.”

He stumbled away from Jason’s grip.

Jason cupped his hands over his mouth.

“Katsuro?”

“Go!” Katsuro responded without taking his eyes from his opponent.

“Saddle up, Caelum. We’re leaving.”

Caelum let his bow dissolve back into the Veil and trotted up the ramp to join the others. Jason pressed a button on the wall to raise the ramp. He doubted Katsuro would notice, but he snapped him a salute anyway.

Once he felt confident the ramp wouldn’t fail—with their run of luck it was a distinct possibility—he jogged up to join Marie in the cockpit.

The instruments looked nothing like he’d seen before. Not that he was an expert. Marie, lover of all things fast, was more knowledgable when it came to things with wheels and or wings.

“You sure you can fly this thing?” he asked.

She pressed a button. The jet’s engines coughed and then hummed in response.

“Yeah,” she said, “I should be good. Thankfully, English seems to not only be the international language of choice, but also intergalactically too. If anything, this seems easier to control.”

“Thank god for small mercies.”

She eased the wheel forward, moving the jet toward, and then through, the torn doors. She pulled back, bringing it to a stop on the elevator. Soon afterward they began to ascend with a lurch.

“You said we could be coming out in the middle of a war zone?” Marie asked.

Jason nodded grimly.

“That’s why Pridament’s still outside. He’s our cover fire.”

“Seems like a tall order for a single person.”

Jason sighed.

“I’d usually agree, but I’m pretty certain he’ll be able to handle it. My bigger concern is if we’ll have enough runway to take off.”

Once they’d risen above the top of the torn door, they plunged into near darkness—a few blinking yellow lights providing only periodic illumination.

Thump.

A dark shape deposited itself on the nose of the plane.

“Shit,” Marie yelled.

Jason grabbed her shoulders before she inadvertently jerked the wheel.

“Easy, it’s just Pridament getting into position.”

Marie blew a held breath out in a huff.

“You have no idea how terrible this day has been,” she said over a suppressed sob.

Jason sank into the seat next to her and buckled himself in.

“I noticed. No Nat, or Wade. I’m sorry, Marie. I know she was like a sister to you.”

Marie bit down on her quivering lip and took a few hasty breaths through her nose.

“Thanks, Jay. When we’re out of here, I’m going to need some time.”

Jason nodded.

“I think we all will.”

Time. Yes, he’d need time. To find a way back to their Earth, to search for Fuyuko. Hopefully, she’d know where Angie was too, so they could reunite the remaining members of their adopted family. Together, they’d be better equipped to figure out what to do next. If there
was
anything to do next. What happened today? Did it need repairing? And assuming it did, were those repairs possible? Could the members of Ansuz be the ones to do it? And what of the rebels, Fenrir, on this planet? If Katsuro didn’t escape, they’d be without a leader.

That couldn’t be Jason’s problem. If Katsuro were as capable a leader here as his other self had been in Ansuz, then he’d have prepped a replacement. Neither of them lived a life that promised to be a long one.

Fuyuko…
You’d better be all right. Dammit, who even knows if our Earth is still there.

He did his best to banish the thought. No, their Earth
had
to be there. They’d return, band together the remnants of Suture and the other teams. They’d seal the tears this disaster created and then continue their original job of protecting the world against any future incursions from the Veil. And if it meant they did it without the Immortals, then that was the way they’d go. Maybe it was time to wipe away the old world and for the new breed to assume their proper roles.