Psion Gamma (41 page)

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Authors: Jacob Gowans

Tags: #Teen & Young Adult, #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Psion Gamma
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Once Sammy focused on just shielding and let Toad take care of attacking, the fight ended quickly. Using one hand as a shield, he battered the Thirteen with his other elbow. Then he picked her up and half threw and half blasted her body back out the cockpit.

 “What are we going to do now?” Toad asked as he held his position following Sammy’s order. Bullets began pouring through the broken cockpit window again and the Thirteens stomped on the glass and the roof, creating tremendous noise. “Back through the glass or out the door?”

“I don’t know yet,” Sammy said. “I need to think.”

“No time for that right now, Sammy,” came a voice in the back of the cruiser.

It was Beauty’s.

* * * * * * *

Sounds of gunfire, booms from hand cannons, and shouts echoed around the hangar. The Thirteens and Aegis reacted quickly, just as Byron knew they would. Only one Aegis died from their initial surge. Three more fell, injured. More importantly, however, their circle around the civilians was broken, leaving the enemy badly outnumbered and at a strategic disadvantage. The commander heard scattered shrieks and cries from the enemy, probably coordinating a new plan.

Byron held a syshée, his weapon of choice in most battle situations. Using one hand to shield himself, he fired at the nearest Aegis.

The Aegis ducked behind his body shield, but each time a syshée hit the shield, its barbed bullets tore softball-sized chunks out of the thick plastic. Most of the Alphas went air born, landing on the tops of jets and cruisers, drawing fire away from the civilians. The civilians were fairly well covered given their circumstances. Byron was impressed with their resourcefulness, despite many of them using only crude pistols.

Where are you, Samuel?

The Alphas’ attack turned into an effective wedge through the enemy formation. The few remaining Thirteens and Aegis gave up ground, seeking shelter from the aerial attack of the Alphas. Not one Thirteen looked afraid or defeated, there was only the recognition of a loss of the advantage. If the beasts had a card up their sleeves to change their odds, they would have used it. Byron suspected that they had anticipated coming here to mop up a riff-raff band of civilians and one Psion.

Two more of them went down.

“All Alphas,” Byron broadcasted from his com, “push the Thirteens to the east side of the hangar. Force retreat through that exit.”

As fast as anyone could move, the enemies were out the door and gone.

Several armed civilians left their defensive cover to give chase.

 “Shamila,” Byron announced to his com. “Get a visual on Samuel.”

“Yes, sir,” came her reply.

Byron directed his com link to the pilot. “Are the Thirteens headed to their cruiser?”

“No, sir,” the pilot answered. “Not one, they’ve disappeared into the dark. I can’t get a visual on more than two or three from here.”

Byron was not surprised. “Va’pua, tell whoever these men and women are that the Thirteens are too dangerous to follow. They should retreat a separate way.” He’d seen in the past when the Thirteens had fallen back only to set new traps and reengage under more favorable conditions. “Shamila, any success?”

 “We’ve spotted a cruiser at the far west end of the hangar,” Shamila reported. “Just found it, sir. At least three Thirteens there, too.”

“On our way. All Alphas to the far west end of hangar. Full attack on the cruiser!”

He sprinted down the hangar with his team. The cruiser Shamila had mentioned came into sight quickly. Three Thirteens were gathered on top of the cruiser, all around the cockpit window, all shooting and stomping at the glass. Byron fired his syshée at the nearest of them. It was a large black woman with wild hair. She grabbed her shoulder, soaking her hand in blood. The syshée had turned it into a bloody mess. All three Thirteens had turned their attention to the approaching Alphas. From the fires blazing in their eyes, Byron knew he was in for a battle.

Hold on Samuel
. . .

* * * * * * *

Aside from the oversized hand cannon in her right hand, Beauty was unarmed. Even now, Sammy found her to be an imposing sight: tall, strong, and thin, utterly beautiful. But she had an intangible quality that Sammy also noticed. A cloak of invisible evil that she wore. It permeated the air around her and unlocked more of the darkness still inside Sammy.

This woman was death.

“You must be important, Sammy,” Beauty said. “But from looking at you I wouldn’t know why.”

“Hold that window, Toad,” Sammy muttered. “Don’t let them in.”

“Maybe I should kill your boyfriend first,” she offered, with a grin that showed off her perfect teeth.

Sammy attacked. Beauty shot off her cannon. Sammy easily shielded the shrapnel before it could spread. He threw a punch at her jaw, but she was already too far away before his fist was even close. Her legs landed on the cruiser wall, and he aimed a blast at her chest. She jumped over him, directing her cannon point blank at his body, too close for him to use his hands. He used a foot blast to jettison himself out of the way.

Beauty immediately changed her aim to Toad’s backside. Sammy caught it just in time. With one powerful blast, he turned her weapon away, blowing the passenger seat of the cruiser into chunks of leather, stuffing, and tearing small holes through the cruiser’s side. The frame of the chair hit the floor. The cushioning smoldered, making the air reek of burned plastic.

Beauty charged into Sammy, faster than he had time to react, sending him crashing into the wall of the cruiser with a dull thud. He returned her the favor, blasting off the wall, turning himself into a projectile. She sent another round at him, then crouched low like a spider, allowing him to sail harmlessly over her. While mid-air, another blast from his hand forced her off balance, driving her face into the floor. Sammy heard a sharp snap.

A grunt escaped her.

Sammy landed on the other side of the cruiser. Toad had turned away from the window. His face was pale and sweaty. The Thirteens had stopped trying to shoot into the cockpit.

“Take whatever cover you can find,” Sammy told him.

Please, brain, I need your help. I need to see how to beat her.

Beauty screamed and shrieked a string of vile curses at Sammy, shoving herself off the floor. Her nose had broken, and blood flowed freely from it. Her cannon shot again. Sammy shielded himself, but the shrapnel had enough spread to rip into the sides and paneling of the cruiser. She shot again. As Sammy shielded himself, she rushed him. He focused the concentration of his next blast, but she anticipated it, flipping her lower body over the blast. Sammy ducked and rolled under her. In the corner of his eye, he saw Toad hiding himself behind the one remaining pilot’s chair. He was aiming the nail gun, but his hands were shaking badly.

Come on, brain! WORK FOR ME!

Beauty used her hands to rebound off the wall and doubled off the ceiling to aim her body at Sammy. He tried to blast her again, but she whipped herself around too fast. The toe of her shoe caught Sammy in the ribs, but he rolled out of the way as her hand cannon tore a large chunk out of the flooring where he had just been. He used his foot to kick out at her, connecting with her knee, bringing her down to the floor in a tumble. As she fell, she whipped her cannon down on Sammy’s shoulder. He yelled in pain, as a sharp crack of lightning spread from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers followed by a tingling numbness.

Sammy heard Toad pull the trigger of the nail gun, but all that came was a puff of air. Toad cursed. He was out of nails, and the spare cartridge was in Sammy’s pocket.

Beauty got up first, leaping to her feet. In that moment, Sammy knew he had lost. Beauty had only shocked the nerve with the blow to his shoulder, but he couldn’t move his arm. His other arm was caught underneath the damaged frame of the chair Beauty had blown apart only a minute ago.

She was too fast. Too strong. Too smart.

He knew there wasn’t enough time to react. He tried to lift his legs so he could use his feet as shields, but he wouldn’t make it in time. Her weapon was already pointed straight at him. Toad screamed somewhere near him. With no words, no grins, not even a look of victory, Beauty finished the job and pulled the trigger.

“Sammy!” Toad cried.

Sammy closed his eyes and heard the hand cannon erupt. A heavy weight slammed into him as his feet finally blasted, milliseconds too late to block the cannon’s death shot. Something big hit the rear of the cruiser, away from him. Pieces of shrapnel grazed Sammy’s trapped arm, stinging and burning him. He opened his eyes.

Toad’s shrapnel-filled body was on top of him. Beauty looked dazed from her collision with the back of the cruiser. The side door to the cruiser jerked open. Sammy struggled to turn and face more enemies.

“Samuel?” Sammy couldn’t see the face yet because his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light, but he knew the voice.

“Commander Byron?” Sammy said in response. It didn’t seem possible. But when everything came into focus, he saw the commander. “Please. My friend—he’s shot. And there’s a Thirteen in here!”

“Get medical ready!” Byron spoke into his com. Then he spoke to two other Alphas. “Check out the cruiser.”

Sammy looked to the back of the cruiser while the Alphas lifted Toad off him. Beauty was gone. Then he got his first good look at Toad, but what he saw was horrifying. Toad’s chest and legs were like meaty pulp. Blood was everywhere, leaking from every hole. His face was whiter than any normal person’s face should ever be.

“Toad?” he whispered.

“Samuel, we have to go.” Byron pulled the chair frame off of Sammy’s arm and helped him to his feet.

Sammy allowed himself to be led out of the wrecked cruiser and down the hangar. Toad was already whisked out, but left a trail of blood. Sammy’s mind was blank. Everything was right and wrong at the same moment. Byron was here, but Toad . . .

I promised to protect him
. Sammy tried to breathe, but choked on the air. He thought he was going to vomit. Byron’s support grew stronger.

“Did you know that boy?” the commander asked. Byron’s voice was light and casual, probably trying to keep Sammy from going into shock.

He nodded weakly. The hangar was completely different now. The Thirteens and Aegis were gone. Most of the bodies were Aegis and security. The resistance had all left, too, the bodies of their dead carried off.

I promised to protect Toad
. He meant to say it out loud, but didn’t.

He repeated the words over and over in his head. Each time the resounding failure echoed deeper inside of him, mocking him along with the fresh images of Toad’s body.

Byron gave up trying to talk to him, yet Sammy leaned on Byron more than ever. He was tired and beginning to feel sick. The pilot came out of the cruiser as they left the gaping hole that had been the hangar door. His gloved hands were stained with blood and bits of flesh. Sammy’s stomach swirled again. The Elite’s eyes said everything that needed saying.

“There wasn’t anything I could do, Commander,” the pilot said. “Even if Maad had been here . . .” His voice trailed off as he pulled off the dripping gloves.

This time the sensation in Sammy’s stomach did not stop. He vomited onto the gray pavement, retching and retching until he felt he might vomit everything inside of him. In between retches he sobbed uncontrollably. He felt his mind unraveling again, fraying at the edges
.

Why do things like this have to happen? How can things like this happen?

It was his fault. All his fault. If his gift had not been gone . . .
I would have beaten her. I should have beaten her!

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