Resurgent Shadows (Successive Harmony Book 1) (8 page)

The scream echoed through the halls and struck Eric in an icy shower of recognition. It was Natalie’s voice.

He leapt forward immediately and slipped on a patch of slick algae and moss. His ankle twisted beneath him, but all thought of pain vanished at the sound of another panicked scream. He broke into a frantic run. His M16 bounced against his side in his one handed grip and his pack jostled, throwing off his stride. With a shrug, the pack fell to the floor and he tossed the M16 aside.

He pulled out his sidearm and rounded the corner into the Commons. Flames leapt from several of the ramshackle buildings that he and his people called home. Broken bodies littered the ground. He caught a glimpse of Dan rushing across the open area opposite from him and dashing into a side tunnel.

Eric swallowed at the sight of the carnage around him. What could have made such a mess? Surely the golgent and trulgo hadn’t made it into the tunnels. Not now, not after all these years of peace hidden away beneath the broken city streets.

He swallowed hard again to keep from throwing up. It didn’t help.

Where was Natalie? He didn’t see her among the dead or wounded, nor any of the others who were wandering around aimlessly, lost to shock or fear.

He darted down a side tunnel on the right then took the first fork to the left. It was the most likely route to safety and connected with the tunnel he’d seen Dan run toward. Eric silently prayed Natalie would be safe, that he’d find her before something went wrong, and that neither she nor their unborn child would be harmed.

Before too long, the tunnels echoed with the sharp retorts of gunfire and shouts of anger, alarm, and pain. They grew louder with each stride. Eric licked his dry lips in anticipation, palm sweaty on the butt of his gun.

Suddenly he was in the middle of it. Men from Roberts’s team were all around him, rearing up in the semi-darkness. Guns blazed in the gloom, illuminating the scene of battle. A few meters away, a pair of lizard creatures exactly like those Dan had described hissed and scrambled about the tunnel floor. Bullets ricocheted off scales as impenetrable as armor. Their tails flashed out, much like a scorpion’s, though none of the soldiers were close enough to be struck by the foot-long barb at the end. Streams of acid hissed and crackled, splattering against either the rocky walls or the men sandwiched in the narrow tunnels. The smell of burning flesh hung heavy in the air.

“Spread out, you idiots!” Eric ordered. He shoved through the group and located Roberts near the middle of the pack.

“Eric!” Roberts yelled. “What the hell are these things? They chased Natalie right into us. Lucky for her we were already here fighting two strange men that burst through the northern entrance while we were trying to repair it.”

“Where’s my wife?”

“I’m here, Eric.” She appeared at his side, her face stretched and white, but otherwise unharmed.

Eric threw his arms around her, surreptitiously putting one hand on her stomach, and sighed with relief.

She coughed pointedly, and Eric immediately regained his composure and presence of mind.

“Head back to the Commons,” he said. “Tend to the wounded. Get everyone you can into the safe areas and wait there until either Dan or I come for you. Seal off the Commons.”

Natalie nodded and vanished into the throng of men.

“What now, Eric?” Roberts asked. He leaned against the tunnel wall, oblivious to the dying men around him.

“How’d they get in?” Eric demanded. He suspected the man had somehow given away one of the secret entrances, but now was not the time.

Roberts shrugged, though he didn’t meet Eric’s eye. “How should I know? What should we do now, though?”

“Keep the men back, spread out,” he said, allowing the matter to drop. “Send someone for the phosphorous grenades in my workroom.”

Roberts grabbed one of his men and set him to the task.

“Now where are these men you said came with the lizard-things? Are there more of them?”

“They’re back there—they came up on us from the north just as these monsters attacked us from the rear. There were only two of them, but they’re dead now. It sure took a hell of a lot of bullets to bring them down. They kept coming even after two grenades.”

Eric pushed passed the man and into the side tunnel. He didn’t trust Roberts’s assumptions any more than he trusted the man himself.

“Keep the men here. Tell them to aim for the eyes and the soft parts around the head.”

Eric found the bodies, facedown and mangled, only a few steps away. They were short and stocky, they wore thick, spiked armor, and their heads were bare and devoid of any helm. Eric grabbed one of the bodies by the shoulder and flipped him over, a sense of dread creeping into his chest. A massive, glistening war hammer dropped from the corpse’s limp hands and dropped onto the sewer floor with a clarion clang.

It was a dwarf.

Questions burst through his mind in a rush of thought that left him dizzy. What were dwarves doing here? Were they allied with the lizards or fighting them?

Pain exploded along his back. He felt his feet fly out from under him, and he slammed into a wall. The gun in his hand flew into the darkness. One of the lizards bore down on him, mouth agape and dripping acid. Eric tried to roll to his feet, but he ended up in a half crouch instead, feet placed in poor fighting posture. He ducked a stream of acid and slipped backward on his weakened ankle, going for the floor. He reached out his hands reflexively to catch himself as he fell.

His right hand closed over a cool metal shaft. A massive shock rocked up his arm, and his muscles spasmed. Pain rode up his arm in waves but vanished under the blazing fire of strength and determination. He lifted the dwarf’s war hammer up in one hand, roaring through the pain.

Instinctively, Eric leapt to his feet, holding the weapon horizontally in front of him. A second later the lizard’s hooked tail bounced off the hammer’s haft.

The hammer spun in his hands as if he had wielded the weapon since birth, a living extension of his will. He stepped forward, throwing his entire momentum into the swing and driving it upwards into the lizard’s ribs. He heard a sickening crunch of scales and bone. Sparks cascaded in all directions, crackling bolts of energy that shone bronze in the dim light.

Eric pivoted back around with the hammer’s momentum in a complete turn and sent the war hammer humming in a horizontal arc. The weapon connected with the side of the lizard’s head at the moment that it spun around to spit a stream of acid at Eric’s face. The jawbone was instantly obliterated. The hammer continued moving upwards, as if it had met no resistance at all.

The lizard-creature convulsed in wracking spasms. It writhed and flopped on the ground, its tail flailing dangerously close to Eric’s head, though it was only the last futile firings of a dying nervous system.

Eric ducked by reflex, and the hammer pulled free from the pulpy remains of the lizard’s head, still as clean and polished as it had been when he’d picked it up.

The lizard collapsed with one last feeble twitch.

Eric turned the hammer over in his hands, his veins coursing with adrenaline and a rush of strength. The weapon gleamed and thrummed with each of Eric’s heartbeats, throbbing as if possessed of its own steely pulse.

Something shot passed Eric’s head and he looked up from the hammer’s glistening face. Scores of dwarven figures rushed through the tunnel, shield-bearers at the fore. Bullets ricocheted off the steel, screaming through the gloom. An answering salvo of throwing axes and short, thick arrows filled the air.

With a roar, Eric raised the hammer over his head, arms extended to their fullest. “Enough!”

So loud was the shout and the ensuing echoes that it drowned out the hail of gunfire and the sound of metal clashing against metal and rock. Soldiers on both sides paused and looked toward the proud figure that stood defiantly between the two forces, dead lizard creature at his feet and his face a mask of anger and frustration.

The dwarves lowered their axes in open disbelief, staring at the hammer raised about his head. Several hurried forward to look after their fallen companions.

Roberts’s men did not lower their guns.

Eric turned to face them and the closest quailed under the look he leveled upon them. “Lower your weapons,” he ordered.

Some of the men dropped the sights of their guns towards the floor, but Roberts and a large number of his men clutched their weapons more tightly still.

“Lower your weapons.”

“Fairy tales!”

Eric arched at eyebrow at the man who had spoken. “And I suppose dragons, trulgo, golgent, and giant lizards that spit acid are just fancies in the night as well, right?”

Chuckles broke out on both sides of the conflict. The man who had spoken blushed with chagrin and lowered his rifle, as did the men around him, including Roberts.

“Do you be speaking for these men, human?” The deep, rumbling voice spoke from behind Eric.

He turned towards the speaker, unconsciously tucking the hammer into his utility belt as he did so. A dwarf stood in front of the others, his auburn hair and beard braided into one another and festooned with intricate chains and jewels that glistened in the dim light. His armor was plain in design, but inlaid with gold and silver along the steel plate and around the chain mail. His helm, though similar to those of his companions, was adorned by a garland of gold and silver leaves that intertwined and wrapped twice around its girth. A king or ruler, perhaps?

“I speak for these men.” A small sound of protest came from behind him, but Eric ignored it.

“You have killed two of my kin, berserkers though they may be. You have in your hands the Elithalma, Valundnir, by which you slew a wyrm. Tell me why I shouldn’t be killing you and your men right now for your treachery.”

There was no time for hesitation, no time to wonder or question. Eric spoke with a decisiveness and power that surprised even himself.

“We are not your enemies. There have been many losses on both sides, but we have women and children deeper within the tunnels that were injured by these—wyrms did you call them? We need to attend to them. If you have injured or wounded, we will see to them as well.”

The dwarf surveyed him for a long moment, his deep, brown eyes seeming to pierce Eric to his very soul. Eric stared back and did not lower his gaze. Blood pounded in his ears and he felt a strange rush of adrenaline shoot through his veins. Where did such boldness come from?

The dwarf began speaking, and the surge of adrenaline faded away into nothingness.

“Trust be not so easily given, human. You and you alone will be taking me to see these wounded, and if your story be true, then perhaps you will be living out this day. We have met many of your kind over the years. Few have lived past that meeting. You will be leaving your warriors here with my soldiers.”

“I will take you and five of your warriors,” Eric said. He recognized the wisdom and the test hidden in the dverger leader’s words. “I will go unarmed as a gesture of good faith.”

Eric stepped forward without waiting for an answer and pulled the hammer from his belt and presented it to the dverger king before any of them could react. The metal was surprisingly hot and seemed to thrum in his hands.

“I dare not take it, human.” The dverger took a step backwards and gave a slight bow toward the weapon, as if in respect. He gestured towards the five closest dvergers, who fell in around him.

“Don’t be a fool, Eric!” Roberts said. “They’ll kill you as soon as you’re out of sight.” He raised his gun and leveled it at the dverger king.

Eric’s temper flared, hot and sharp. Roberts had caused this whole mess by killing the two dvergers in the first place. If he kept on the way he was going, a lot more people were going to die. Eric knew that despite the dverger king’s outwardly calm demeanor, there was a raging storm of anger hidden just beneath the surface. He could see it in the dverger’s smoldering, hard eyes. There was no nobility in the face of vengeance.

“Put the gun away, Roberts.” Eric turned to face the man, his frustration evident in both his voice and his posture.

“This is madness.”

“Put it away.”

Eric stepped forward slowly, deliberately. He stopped only inches away from the muzzle of Roberts’s gun. Roberts held his defiant posture for a long moment, though his expression was one of confused surprise. Eric’s patience, already stretched thin, broke beneath another sudden flare of temper. He dropped the hammer to the ground with a sharp, metallic ring and his right hand came up and wrapped around the muzzle of Roberts’s gun, jerking it out of the man’s hands. Eric’s left hand grabbed a fistful of Roberts’s shirt and pulled the man forward so they were nose to nose.

“I should hand you over to the dverger right now,” he whispered in a voice that only he and Roberts could hear. “I’m sure they’d be glad to rid me of your constant stupidity.’”

For a moment, Eric almost considered it. Having spoken the words, though, Eric immediately dismissed them. He wasn’t a vengeful person by nature. What had overcome him?

Eric shoved Roberts away with a contemptuous flick of his wrist and turned back to where the dverger king and his guards silently waited, watching the exchange without comment. Their eyes, larger and rounder than human eyes, glowed in the semi-darkness, glistening like jewels ensconced in stone.