Scenes from an Unholy War (7 page)

“Stop all this foolishness,” Rust said. “Right now, every fighting man we can get is worth more than all the Nobles’ gems. I can’t have you three getting yourselves killed. No ‘surgical strikes.’”

“You told him all about that, you bastard!” Gil said, his entire face swollen and vermilion.

“I’m working for him,” D said in his own voice.

The three mercenaries groaned, the sound of a curse that couldn’t be put into words.

“Swear to me you won’t try anything like this on your own again. If not, you’ll all be dismissed without pay,” Rust told them dis-passionately.

“Hey, we were just—” Gil began to protest futilely.

“Do you swear it, or don’t you?”

The matter was settled quickly enough.

“Okay,” Gil said, shrugging his shoulders. There was nothing a mercenary feared more than missing a payday. It was stipulated in their contract that payment could be stopped at any point if they
didn’t follow the sheriff’s orders. “There was nothing in our
agreement about any fines.”

“Good thing, eh?” said Rust.

Giving Lyra a wink, Gil said, “Be seeing you, sweetheart.” Raising one arm, he got up on his horse.

All three of the men started to ride back toward town.

“Hold up,” Rust called to them.

Halting his steed, Palau twisted around with a look on his face that asked,
What is it now?

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked the sheriff.

“Where? Back into town, I guess. Later on, we’re gonna pound that freaking Hunter into a pulp.”

“If you wanna pound someone into a pulp, do it out there,” Rust said, pointing toward the gates.

“What?”

“As sheriff, I’d like to propose a certain plan. Basically, it’s a lightning strike at the Black Death gang’s camp thirty miles south of here to deal some damage to their equipment and personnel.”

Gil and Josh turned and gaped in amazement. Palau’s jaw dropped.

“Our cyborg horses could make the trip there and back in less than two hours. Figuring in the time for the actual assault, we could be back in the village drinking wild cobra whiskey in three hours.”

Baring his teeth, Gil started to say, “Hey, that’s what I—” Apparently he couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah, D told me. I was surprised how close our ideas were,” the sheriff said smugly.

“Hold on, there—that was
my
idea!”

“In that case, you shouldn’t have any complaints about it.”

“What’s the problem, then?” Gil shouted. Though he was desperately trying to restrain himself, he started cracking his knuckles. It was his instinctive way of demonstrating his resolve. At his enormous size, he definitely got the point across.

“The problem’s whether it can actually be done or not,” Rust replied flatly. “I think it can.”

“You’re damned straight it can. The one and only Gil Mandalay came up with that idea!”

“I’m surprised we both came up with exactly the same thing—so, should we give it a shot?”

Josh and Palau’s expressions changed.

Grinning, Rust said, “Then you’ll have to try out my idea. Too bad I won’t be there to see it happen, though.”

Gil was still spoiling for a fight, his lips pursed, but the other two men became rather amiable.

“You mean we can go ahead?” asked Josh.

“Yes, you guys and D. I couldn’t have picked anyone better for the job.”

“You didn’t come up with that plan at all, did you?” Gil barked, jabbing a finger as thick as a baby’s arm at the end of Rust’s nose.

“It doesn’t matter who came up with it. This is how it’s going to be. Get yourselves back here tonight. That’s an order.”

“You dirty—”

If Lyra hadn’t stepped between them, Gil probably would’ve lunged at the lawman.

Seeing how he grit his teeth and restrained himself, a hoarse voice jeered, “My, aren’t you the feminist.”

“I don’t wanna hear any funny voices outta you, you damned traitor! Okay, Sheriff, we’re gonna go out there and stir things up. But the leader’s gotta be—”

“Me,” D said, naturally.

chapter 4

I

—

A
thousand yards shy of their target, the four men dismounted.
They’d hea
rd the Black Death had scouts with keen hearing and the ability to see well in the dark. From experience, they knew they couldn’t go any closer without being detected. Though it was D who ordered them to dismount, no one voiced any complaints.

A light danced in the distant darkness, most likely a fire at the outlaws’ encampment.

“The enemy probably has scouts out,” Palau said as he looked all around. The hair that covered half his face glowed with the strange green light from his electronic eye.

“We’re counting on that peeper of yours. Come through for us, big guy,” Gil said, giving him a slap on the back. Since they were both huge, the other man didn’t even budge, though someone D’s size might’ve been sent flying.

“Well, I can see a structure. A farmhouse?” Palau ventured.

“That wasn’t on the map,” said Josh, cocking his head to one side.

“Let’s move.”

With this signal from D, they started off on foot, leading their horses behind them. After they’d advanced about five hundred yards, they saw a couple of riders to their right who were apparently on watch, but the four men slipped by them without the outlaws noticing, reaching a spot where they could make out the rest of the hostiles around the campfire.

“We’ve gotta find where the enemy’s got their weapons stashed,” Gil said, lowering his electronic binoculars and turning to Palau.

“Leave it to me.”

Taking off his backpack, Palau pulled a remote control and an odd-looking bundle out of it. When the remote was switched on, the bundle immediately transformed into an airplane with a three-foot wingspan. He apparently carried it around all folded up.

“I bought this little reconnaissance plane off a traveling arms merchant,” Palau said with delight as he fitted a hemispherical piece containing a lens—apparently a camera of some sort—into the metallic frame of the plane. “All set. Now, whatever this baby sees will go right into my eye. Stand back, guys.”

He worked the levers on the remote with one hand, and the plane glided off into the darkness without a sound.

“How’s it going?” Gil asked anxiously.

“At fifteen hundred feet, zooming in—okay,” Palau said with a nod. It seemed the camera had begun broadcasting the scenery below to his eye. “They’ve got some serious armament. One triple-shot missile launcher, an old-fashioned, fifty-ton intelligent tank like they used back in the Nobility Wars, and a ten-shot, fifty-millimeter laser cannon. Plus three heavy machine guns, ten light ones, a shitload of automatic rifles—”

Gil’s look became one of delight as he said, “Then no village could hold them off, no matter how tight their defenses. We’ll take ’em out starting with the biggest guns first, Captain, just as planned.”

“Just as planned,” D said, his eyes still on the fire and figures ahead. “What about guards?”

“One each on the four points of the compass. They’ve got short-range radar, too. Effective at maybe fifty yards? No surprise here, but the missiles, tank, and laser cannon each seem to have about five guys posted on ’em round the clock.”

“In other words, it’s gonna be tricky trying to get in without being noticed,” Gil said, tilting his head to one side. “Got any suggestions, Captain?”

“I could lay into them with this. One blast, and it’d be complete havoc. What do you say to running in, then?” Josh asked, slapping the antitank rifle on his back.

But Gil ignored him, gazing at D with searching eyes. He wasn’t so much judging D’s strength as he was simply trying to be disagreeable.

“We’ll use a diversion,” D said quietly. His voice was like steel reciting poetry in the depths of a dark and moonless night.

The Hunter reached with his left hand towards Palau’s face. The light from the man’s electronic eye was hidden as the palm of D’s hand covered it.

Josh reached for his knife.

Quickly pulling his hand away again, the Hunter said, “They’ve got a makeshift ammo dump set up behind that farmhouse. I’ll take that out.”

Gil inquired incredulously, “How do you know that? What’s the story, Palau?”

But the scout with the electronic eye nodded. “Pretty boy’s right. How’d you access what was in my eye?”

“Synchronize watches,” D told them. “I’ll take out the ammo dump exactly four minutes from now. As soon as it blows, we’ll get the missiles, tank, and lasers, in that order. You’re on the tank and lasers. I’ll handle the missiles.”

“You don’t seriously intend to haul them out of here, do you?” Gil asked, the intrigue plain on his face. “Because if you’re not careful blowing them up, not only will those guys get blown to pieces, but we will too! What are you thinking?”

D turned around and looked at the roughneck. Their eyes met. Though it was a pitch-black night, the Hunter’s dark eyes seemed to glow. Gil suddenly felt as if they were going to swallow him. Before he could fight it, he was falling into the depths of the darkness. Something came into view—and the instant he realized what it was, he cried out.

It’d been a dream. He trembled as his two comrades in arms stood watching him. A black-gloved hand was covering his mouth. The darkness remained still.

“Did you see?” D asked. His voice fell from high above. Gil didn’t bother looking up. For all eternity, he wouldn’t know what the Hunter was asking. But someone had loomed before him, oh, so black and oh, so high, challenging the heavens.

Gil mumbled something.

The black-gloved hand came away from his mouth.

“Not a thing,” Gil repeated. “I didn’t see . . . anything . . .”

As if nothing had happened, D said, “You have four and a half minutes to get it done. We’ll meet back here in five minutes.” The figure in black spun around, but none of the other three noticed that his left hand was missing from the wrist down.

—

The house was filled with the stench of blood. It had seeped into the very cores of the roof beams, the logs of the walls, and the floorboards, rotting them, and even if the house were razed, the area would retain a cloying smell that would keep any living creatures from drawing closer. Until this evening, it hadn’t been that way. The former residents had been very good about getting rid of the smell, which posed the greatest threat to their self-control. But at present, the floor was covered with blood-red plastic. Bags of plasma for medical procedures, each containing 100 cc, were spread across the floor. However, that wasn’t the source of the stench.

The fluid of over a hundred of those bags had been emptied into his body, and the blood now clung to his flesh and bones and organs. When he opened his eyes, it began to slosh, and when he got up out of bed, it eddied wildly in him.

“He’s coming,” the leader said, barely able to squeeze those two words from a body that felt as dirty and heavy as mud. “He’s coming. Yes, here he comes!”

A sword gleamed in either hand.

“Oh, come! Please, come to me! You’re the one who can kill me. Zeke, Bayon, Kronos—are you all set? Are you ready to sing the songs of death? Better think of some words to beg for your lives. This time, we’ll be up against a formidable foe!” He bellowed like a wild beast, whipped up by a dark desire even he couldn’t fully comprehend.

A black glint zipped to the wall. Striking the logs, it laid waste to the caulking between the thick trunks and shot through. After zipping along the ground for another twenty yards, it stabbed into something, and the instant it did, a low groan came from beneath it as something crept along, black and spiderlike. The ammo dump shielded by vinyl and reinforced plastic lay just ahead of those five painfully struggling “legs.”

—

II

—

The missiles were mounted on a steel truck. The five men didn’t move a muscle as they scanned their surroundings. It was easy enough to approach them. D’s feet didn’t make a sound, and his body melded with the darkness. On a night when even the stars weren’t out, he could stand right in front of a person without them even knowing it. Avoiding the watch fire, the Hunter glided toward the man guarding the rear of the truck. His gait wavered unexpectedly as vertigo suddenly assailed him. The bats’ venom hadn’t left him yet. Dropping down on one knee, he put an arm out to brace his upper body as it doubled over, but his hand was missing.

These sounds didn’t escape the guard. “Who goes there?” he shouted as loudly as he could, turning the flashlight he wore on his hip in their direction.

Even though he lay in the beam of light, D didn’t respond immediately. This time the venom was having a particularly strong effect on him.

In response to the man’s shout, the other guards came running with their firearms or longswords drawn. The air of malevolence that enveloped them was channeled through the looks they gave D, but it vanished with shocking ease. Merciless and malevolent faces acquired embarrassingly stupid expressions of rapture, for they had looked at D’s face.

This strangely amicable state between friend and foe existed for exactly one second. It was D that shattered it. To the men, it probably looked as if the gorgeous intruder had spread black wings and taken off. His talons were a blade crueler than any they’d ever known.

—

The tank in particular had a great many watch fires around it. The computer within it could navigate the vehicle, pinpoint enemies, and launch attacks that would destroy the defensive walls around a village. Its 150-millimeter cannon could reduce to dust anyone who resisted, while the four machine guns would turn them into hamburger. Three and a half inches of high-polymer armor were capable of deflecting any and all attacks by the enemy, making this tank essentially invincible out on the Frontier.

“He’s late. What do we do?” Josh asked Palau in the depths of the darkness about thirty feet away, having crawled over to the other man like an insect.

“Damned if I know. We’re running outta time. Do we do this, or what?” Palau said. Quickly he got to his feet, holding a small automatic pistol in either hand. Each had a silencer resembling a sausage on the end of it. “Cover me.”

He dashed away.

He came into the light of the fire. Spotting him, two of the guards raised their rifles. There were two faint
phuuuut!
sounds, like whispers from the spirit world. Shot right between the eyes, the guards flew backward.

Palau swiftly circled around behind the tank. The remaining three guards jumped out.

“What the hell?”

Two of them were wearing bulletproof helmets, masks, and body armor. Reconnaissance from the air hadn’t shown their gear.

“Seriously, what the
hell
?”

Phuuuut! Phuuuut! Phuuuut! Phuuuut! Phuuuut!

Spent casings of gold flew through the air, and one of the men fell after being hit ten times. One of the men in body armor was shot through the neck. The other one managed to deflect all the bullets as he brought his rifle to bear.

A report that was nothing like that of a handgun split the night air. The element of surprise was lost. The whole encampment awoke at once.

“Damn it—die when I shoot you!” Palau cursed as the massive round from the rifle scored a hit on his solar plexus. It left an entry wound the size of a grown man’s head. But flesh rolled into the wound like mud, filling it up again. Two more slugs hit him in the chest. And the same thing happened with both of them.

“Truth be known, I was born for shootouts—see, I’ve got this regenerative ability.”

Taking aim at the throat of the dumbfounded guard, he fired off ten shots, two of which found their mark.

Bending back like a longbow, the man fell. From behind him came shouts.

“We’re under attack!”

“It’s over by the tank!”

“Don’t let ’em get away!”

The voices and footfalls barreled closer.

Clucking his tongue in disgust as he changed direction, Palau fired indiscriminately. After two or three shots, the slide remained back.

“Oops, out of ammo. Some pro I am!”

As he stood bolt upright, something howled past his chest. Twenty yards away, flames exploded among the figures headed toward him.

“Consider yourself covered!” Josh called out in the distance.

“Took your sweet time about it!” Palau spat as he raced over to the tank, took an explosive charge and timer from his belt, and pushed them into the tank treads.

There was a mechanical whir.

“What the hell?”

The turret of the tank was turning.

“Don’t tell me it’s gonna fire that thing,” Palau said as the barrel of the gun swung over his head. He let out a sigh of relief, then cried out.

Right in front of his face was the smaller muzzle of the machine gun mounted beside the tank’s main gun.

—

A roaring sound and flames made Gil turn and look.

“That’s Josh’s antitank rifle. That idiot!”

It was time to prepare for a fight. Judging from the location of the explosion, the outlaws would probably figure the laser cannon was in danger too and come running.

“Took ’em long enough.”

Crouching down, Gil ran. The bodies of guards lay all around the laser cannon he’d rigged with explosives. The men who came running to the scene wouldn’t even have time to be surprised. In fact, they wouldn’t have time to notice anything. There were two minutes until detonation.

Grunting, Gil halted. His enormous frame brimmed with tension and impatience.

A figure stood there.

Is that D?
he thought. The height and build were both quite similar to D’s. But it wasn’t him. Even the Hunter’s shadow was gorgeous. This guy was—

Time was too precious for him to give it any further consideration. Gil channeled his strength into his “gaze.” It was something he’d been born with, and family members, teachers, and friends who’d been exposed to it had died. If he concentrated, he could knock insects out of the air, make a person’s heart explode, or make plants wither with just a look. Fish would drown and bob to the surface. Classmates he didn’t care for would fall, and policemen dropped dead. The next thing he knew, he was doing it for a living. It wasn’t until several years later that he learned the nature of his power and how to control it—after taking nearly two hundred lives.