Extinction (6 page)

Askal roared, swooping around again to attack. This time, he swept several more crawlers away from the Recon, buying Makara and the rest a little more time. The crawlers’ glowing white eyes turned from the Recon, focusing on Askal above. On
me.
They would be ready next time.

As Askal looked down at the Recon, I could see where they were headed. There was a walled settlement ahead. Could it be...?

Oasis.

The Great Blight, in the short time I had been absent, had extended as far as Oasis. It was near unthinkable. At this rate, it would be at the edge of Los Angeles within weeks.

More crawlers surrounded the Recon, surfacing from below the Great Blight. As Askal flew closer, Makara swerved wildly in an attempt to break free. The turret swiveled around, facing front and lighting up the night. Several of the crawlers in front of the Recon fell to the fungus. The Recon jerked as it sped over the leg of one of the downed crawlers.

The Recon had made it halfway to the walls of Oasis. As Askal swooped low once more, the crawlers were ready. They leaped, snapping at his body. A few bites landed on his right hind leg. I
felt
the pain, searing and hot. Askal shrieked as he beat his wings madly to escape the crawlers’ snapping jowls.

I cannot fight anymore,
he thought.

But they are going to die.

There is nothing more I can do, little human.

The crawlers closed in on the Recon from behind, frighteningly close.

That was when a long line of fiery explosions lit the night, trailing north to south along the edge of the Great Blight. The Recon had just blazed past it, and it surged ahead from the force of the blast. Behind, crawlers shrieked as they were roasted alive. The explosives must have been set up by Oasis as a defensive measure.

Oasis and Ohlan had just saved the lives of my friends.

The stream of crawlers edged around the fires, like the flow of a river wrapping around a rock. The Recon had exited the Great Blight and now sped along the desert floor. The gates of the settlement were wide open, ready to receive the vehicle.

Askal turned from the fireworks below, heading east, deeper into the Great Blight. His wound was deep and painful. I felt blood dripping from it. I felt weakness spread from that limb, permeating the rest of Askal’s body.

Would he make it?

Home is not far,
Askal said.

How far?

Not far.

As the Great Blight passed below, my vision faded.

W
hen I awoke it was still dark. I checked my watch to find that it was 07:12.

I wrapped myself deeper in my blanket and closed my eyes. I wasn’t getting up until I had to.

Anna stirred in the cot next to mine. Ashton snored on the far side of the tent.

“Anna?”

“Hmm.”

“It’s cold.”

“Really.”

“Yeah. You probably need to come over here.”

She lay quiet for a moment, her eyes closed. “Not while the old man is here.”

“Huh?”

Aston stirred and sat up, his long white hair and beard unkempt. He smacked his lips a couple times.

“Where the hell are we?”

Before we could answer, Ashton seemed to remember.

“Aw, hell.” He cleared his throat of phlegm, and spat.

Anna chuckled. “After that, I’m probably not going back to bed.”

As Anna removed herself from her blankets, I sat up. My clothes were dirty after the sweat and dust of the camp. I smelled of smoke. A layer of grime had accumulated on my tongue.

I reached for my canteen, finding it mostly empty. I chugged what remained of the water.

“I need a refill,” I said. “If anyone wants to come with me.”

“Hold your horses,” Ashton said, throwing his blankets off. “Let the old man get his bearings.”

A few minutes later, we had our boots on and were as ready as we were ever going to be. It had not been a good sleep, but we had to take it because it was the sleep we were getting.

That was when I remembered my dream.

“They’re in Oasis,” I said.

Both Anna and Ashton look at me.

“You saw this?” Ashton asked. “In a dream?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how I keep dreaming...”

I told them about what I had seen from Askal’s point of view, how the Recon sped away over the Great Blight, making for the walls of Oasis as it was chased down by hundreds of crawlers. I ended my story with the line of explosions outside Oasis, and Askal getting hurt.

“Will he be alright?” Anna asked.

“I don’t know...” I said. “And I don’t know if the others will be alright, in Oasis. That town must be under siege by now, and who knows what a man like Ohlan is capable of?”

We sat on our cots quietly for another moment, thinking.

“So, what are we going to do about it?” Anna asked.

“We have to get in there and rescue them,” I said. “Once we have the ship.”

“I know that,” Anna said. “But
when
do we do it, and without pissing off Augustus?”

“Small chance of that,” Ashton said. “We can’t leave them there, no matter what he says.” He looked toward the tent flap. “But we shouldn’t be discussing this here. Right now, let’s just focus on staying on Augustus’s good side. We don’t have that spaceship, yet.”

Ashton was right. At his nod, I opened the tent flap to reveal the slate-red sky. Long clouds hung low and wispy above the camp.

Two Praetorians still guarded the tent, different from the ones that had been guarding last night. If they had heard us speaking, they gave no sign.

Down the straight dirt path, Maxillo walked toward us. It looked as if he had already been heading this way.

“You can find breakfast and coffee by the fire,” he said. “The Emperor wants you by his tent in one hour.”

First, we took our turns at the latrine, after which we headed to the fire, where we found the same two legionaries from yesterday – Carlos and Horacio. They tended a large pot stewing over the fire. Eight other men were already lined up with wooden bowls and spoons. Even if they looked a bit tired, their backs were straight and their eyes alert.

Horacio, the short man who only spoke Spanish, addressed the men in line, gesturing toward us. The men gave a cheer as Horacio lifted the pot, letting out steam that smelled of sweet corn and pork.

Carlos translated. “He says: for breakfast today, these three are part of our
siglo.
Century. He says you are special guests of the Emperor and he wants them to eat with the best.
El primer cohorte.”

“El primer cohorte?”
I asked.

“The First Cohort,” Ashton said. “The most skilled fighters in Augustus’s army, besides the Praetorians.”

The men waited, not yet going for the food.

“They are waiting for you,” Carlos said.

I nodded my thanks to the men. Horacio handed me a wooden bowl and spoon. His cheeks were grizzled, where yesterday they had been clean-shaven. Dark circles underlined his brown eyes. I wondered at Horacio’s story. He seemed to be a little younger than Carlos, so maybe he was only on his fifth or sixth campaign. He seemed to be second-in-command of this group, of which I counted ten. I remembered Julian telling me, while in Nova Roma, that the legions were subdivided in sets of one hundred, called centuries. These centuries were further divided into ten groups of ten. Decades, maybe. These decades seemed to cook, eat, and share tents. They might have even fought next to each other in battle.

Augustus based everything off the Roman Empire for a reason; if it worked for the Romans, so he supposed it would work for him.

I held out my bowl, and Horacio filled it to the brim with corn porridge. There were bits of pork, left over from last night, along with chopped onion, tomato, and jalapeño. The wooden bowl was hot in my hands. I walked from the coals, setting my bowl on the ground for the moment. I went to refill my canteen at a cask not far from the fire. I filled my canteen, along with Anna’s and Ashton’s.

I sat back down and took a long drink of cold water. The fire warmed me in front while the morning air cooled me at my back.

Horacio approached, handing me a clay cup filled with steaming liquid. I smelt the aroma of coffee. I accepted the cup.

“Gracias.”

“De nada, mi amigo.”

After taking a sip of the hot, black coffee, I tucked into the porridge. It was good, but nothing could have topped the fajitas from last night. It was spicy and sweet at the same time from the corn and chopped jalapeño, while having the sharp taste of red onion and the savory taste of pork. Even though it was basically a way to get rid of the leftovers from last night, I still scraped the bowl clean. Horacio smiled and pointed to the pot, telling me to have seconds. He seemed pleased I liked it so much.

I filled my bowl halfway, and some of the legionaries went back for seconds.

The morning was quiet. All around the camp, other groups of men, usually of ten, ate breakfast around their own fires. Everyone’s schedules must have been similar. The young legionaries talked and joked in Spanish, though the old ones ate silently. They wore leather armor, mostly, something that would be useless against the Reapers, who had guns. Many of the men had machetes strapped to their belts. The armor was dusty and gritty, as much as the men themselves were.

I wondered why Augustus wanted us to see how his army operated. Maybe it was to give us a sense of his power? It was interesting to see how it all worked, whatever the reason.

In time, breakfast was over. The day had brightened, and Carlos told us that he and his men would clean up, and that we should go see the Emperor. After thanking the legionaries, we left the men of the First Cohort behind.

The sky was now a subdued red. There was a lot of dust here, mostly from the movement of soldiers. We passed groups of men, even an entire century marching toward the front gate. They carried long spears and shields of thin metal, the shield fronts painted red with the Roman numeral
IV.
I was beginning to wonder if Augustus’s army only had primitive weapons like spears and shields, when another group of soldiers passed, toting rifles. These men had purple plumes in their helmets, signifying a higher rank. Not all the soldiers got to carry guns, probably because their supply was limited, but I supposed even a soldier with spear and shield could be of use, with others in great enough numbers.

I didn’t know how many men Carin Black had, but at least a few thousand, counting all the gangs under his command.

We stopped in front of Augustus’s opulent tent. Maxillo went inside as soon as we arrived. We stood outside a moment before Maxillo ushered us in.

We walked inside, finding ourselves once again in the lap of luxury. The Emperor sat at the low-lying table, over which spread a detailed map of Los Angeles. Augustus stared at the map intently, holding a porcelain cup of coffee in his left hand. At our entrance, his eyes turned upward.

“I trust your breakfast was good?”

We said that it was. Zuma rushed to a cabinet standing against the left wall of the tent, and there filled three detailed, porcelain cups with coffee. He then took a small container, adding a dab of golden, viscous liquid to each. I realized it was honey.

Zuma carried one cup at a time, handing the first to Ashton. Ashton looked at its contents skeptically, but after a moment, took a sip. Anna was served next. She ignored the coffee. I took mine last of all.

Augustus, very carefully, began to roll up the map as I took a sip of the sweet coffee. He handed the map to Zuma, who held a cylindrical, leather tube. Tenderly, Zuma placed the rolled-up map inside the tube, where it would remain safe and unspoiled by the environment. He went to the cabinet and stored the tube on the upper shelf. He closed the door and locked it with a key hanging from his neck.

“Here we are again,” Augustus said, beginning the conversation. “Is the coffee good?”

“Yes,” Ashton said.

Augustus smiled. “I am glad, my friend. Grown only in the mountains north of Nova Roma. It is my favorite.” Augustus took another sip, savoring the flavor. “Let’s get down to business. I want you to see that I am genuine in my offer of friendship. I hope after a good night’s rest, you are still committed to working together as I am.”

“Whatever,” Anna said. “Let’s just get started.”

Augustus said nothing, taking another dignified sip of coffee. Zuma stared daggers at Anna for her lack of respect. Maxillo gave her a stony stare. Anna looked as if she didn’t care.

“It’s alright,” Augustus said. “In fact, I appreciate such bluntness, as it is very lacking among my own governors and advisors.” Augustus drained the last of his coffee and handed the cup to Zuma, who took it with a bow. “We are ready to leave, upon the arrival of Captain Sparks. We should have enough time to rescue
Perseus
and begin preparations for the
Radaskim
attack.”

As if his name were a summons, Jonas Spark entered the tent. His blond, spiky hair was wild and his black-rimmed glass hung askew. Duct tape held the frame together at the nose – after many years, the glasses had seen a lot of punishment, and it was surprising they had lasted so long. He wore khaki cargo pants and a white shirt overlaid with a blue vest.

“You called for me,
Princeps?”

“Yes,” Augustus said. “Is everything ready to depart?”

Sparks nodded. “Yes, Emperor.
Orion
is ready to fly when you are.”

Sparks appeared even more disheveled than the first time I’d seen him; apparently, he’d gotten little sleep. Hard to imagine, since he had stayed on the ship, where the accommodations were more comfortable than the camp.

“In future,” Augustus said, “try
not
to carouse on the night before a major mission. Everything depends on this, as I’ve already told you.”

Jonas’s face blanched, but there was the hint of a smile on his face. “Yes. Sorry,
Princeps.
I’ll keep that in mind.”

Anna shook her head as Ashton stared at Sparks. The Emperor’s tone suggested that it wasn’t his first time reprimanding Sparks. Judging by Jonas’s unrepentant features, he didn’t care.