The Severed Tower (44 page)

Mira was stunned, overcome. Words wouldn’t form. “Holt…”

“Take Zoey, get to the Tower.” He held her look and said the next part with as much emphasis as he could. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

Then he was gone, running toward Ravan, grabbing his things and hefting his rifle, both of them dodging out of the way of more plasma fire and blooming fireballs.

Mira stared after him a second more, her heart thundering. Then she did what she had to do. She reached down and grabbed Zoey, lifted her up, and ran as fast as she could toward the black, hulking shape that hung suspended in the air to the north. The sounds of explosions chased after her.

39.
WHAT WE THINK

HOLT GRABBED HIS PACK AND GUNS
off the ground at a full sprint and ran with Ravan, slipping his equipment on as he did. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max bolting after him.

“You sure about this?” he asked the dog wryly. Max made no answer. “Yeah, me neither.”

Another explosion blossomed to life about twenty yards to his right, and Holt slammed down behind a crumpled delivery truck next to Ravan.

She looked at him. “You sure can show a girl a good time.”

More explosions thundered and shook the truck. Engines roared above them as the gunships struggled in the raging winds. The Hunters had brought air power. A lot of it. Looking closer, Holt could see they weren’t Raptors, they were smaller, shaped like a half circle, with the curved part at their rear, and the flat edge at the front. He could make out their engines and cannons.

Holt and Ravan peered over the hood and watched the gunships fire in a chaotic stream of directions, shooting everywhere at once, and one look let Holt see why. Two dozen White Helix flipped and darted between the vehicles on the street or the rooftops of buildings. The blasting wind drowned out most of the sound, but Holt had a feeling if it didn’t, he would hear them shouting with excitement.

“Those guys really are crazy,” Ravan observed, though there was a note of respect in her voice.

“Yeah, but they’re still human. They’ll run out of gas eventually, and when they do they’ll start making mistakes.”

Gunfire rang out, and Holt saw sparks explode from some of the ships. Menagerie muzzle flashes lit up the intersections on either side of the two buildings. From the top floors, glass exploded outward as more gunfire strobed. It was a valiant effort, but Holt knew it was probably useless.

“Give them something else to shoot at, anyway,” Ravan said.

Max howled as a gunship roared above them, struggling to right itself in all the turbulence. Before it could, a green flash of lightning arced into it in a shower of emerald sparks.

The gunship fell straight downward in flames—right toward their truck.

“Well, of course,” Ravan said, yanking Holt up. Max darted out in front of them as they ran, and the gunship crashed in a fireball where they just were.

They reached a group of Menagerie behind an old street trolley, firing up at the gunships. Holt ducked down next to them and pulled Max close. More plasma screamed through the air, and the side of a building nearby exploded outward.

“Cruz!” Ravan shouted at one of her men, his gun blazing automatic fire. He stopped and looked at her. “Since you’re not hitting anything, at least quit wasting bullets and switch to semiauto.”

“Skipper, how long we supposed to hunker down like this?” another pirate asked.

“What, you bored? Maybe you oughta go run around with the tribesmen out there.”

The Menagerie laughed—and then ducked as a blast of debris rained down on their heads.

In spite of the jokes, everyone knew it was serious. They were surrounded by dozens of Assembly gunships, and if that weren’t bad enough, they were now lost in the deepest part of the Strange Lands with no way home.

“They’re pulling back!” someone shouted, and Holt and Ravan peered out past the trolley. Sure enough, the sounds of engines whined as the gunships started to pull away from the buildings, struggling to stay aloft in the winds—and then each one flickered and vanished, cloaking shields covering them, just like the walkers.

Cheers went up from everywhere, but Holt didn’t feel as jubilant. If they pulled back, they’d done it for a reason. The look on Ravan’s face showed she agreed.

Everyone jumped as the White Helix landed near them, one after the other, up and down the street in flashes of cyan, and, for all their strength, they were exhausted. Holt saw Masyn almost lose her balance before Castor caught her.

Avril leaned against the twisted remains of a taxi, breathing hard, and she and Dane shared apprehensive looks. They were tired, Holt thought, unsettled. But they weren’t running.

“Doyen!” one of Avril’s Arc shouted in alarm.

In the distance, maybe two miles away, illuminated by flashes of colored lightning, shapes moved. A lot of them, and they were big.

Holt ripped the binoculars from his pack and peered through them. Ravan did the same. The optics magnified the view, but it was still hard to make out detail. It was dark as night here, and the powerful winds stirred up a lot of dust. What he could see was only revealed in intermittent flashes of red and blue, but it was enough.

Holt watched each shape shamble forward in the same fluid, mechanical way, stomping toward the city with power. “Walkers,” Holt groaned.

“I’m seeing two lines of them, one behind the other,” Ravan said. “Probably fifty, I’d guess, and that’s just the ones I can see.”

“There are many more than fifty,” a voice said behind her. Gideon stared sightlessly to the south. “There are hundreds. Two different types, small and large.”

Looking around, Holt could see the looks on the rest of the White Helix’s faces. They didn’t need binoculars. They could sense the Assembly moving through the Pattern, and they didn’t like what they felt.

“
Hundreds
of walkers, plus air support?” Ravan was aghast. “We can’t hold out against that.”

“Yet we must,” Gideon replied calmly. More lightning flashed, the winds raging. “The Tower wills it.”

“I don’t believe in your stupid Tower, old man!” Ravan shot back and stood up. “I’m taking Avril and I’m getting my men the hell—”

Everything stopped at a blast of distorted trumpet sounds. Five Hunters decloaked about two hundred yards down the street to their right.

No one moved until the plasma bolts started flying, sparking all around them, then everyone darted for cover in different directions, Menagerie scrambling over the vehicles and the Helix leaping into the air.

Only Gideon kept his composure.

He loosed the simple Lancet from his back, and in one smooth, quick motion, fired a spear point. It hummed through the air like an arrow—and punched straight through one of the Hunters in a shower of fire and blue sparks.

The plasma fire from the other walkers cut off. They trumpeted in surprise, watching their compatriot crumple to the ground. Even Assembly armor, it seemed, could not withstand an Antimatter crystal borne of the Strange Lands.

Gideon didn’t hesitate. He touched his index and ring fingers together and dashed toward the remaining tripods in a blur of purple. Holt watched the old man cover the distance and leap up and over the surprised Hunters, the other end of his Lancet striking downward into a second machine. More blue sparks, more flame, and another walker fell.

“That’s—not unimpressive,” Ravan said next to Holt. Everyone, Helix and Menagerie, watched as the walkers finally recovered their senses. Their cannons twisted toward Gideon and spun, priming, unleashing volleys of plasma.

Gideon zigzagged gracefully backward, dodging the sparkling bolts, leaping into the air and landing behind another tripod. There was a hum and he caught the spear point on the end of his Lancet and jabbed outward, puncturing a third walker, felling it in a spray of blue fire.

More plasma bolts shattered the debris and ruined vehicles around him, but Gideon dodged left, ducking and weaving in a blur of purple energy. He spun and fired again. The fourth walker shuddered as the projectile hit home, blowing it to—

Gideon groaned as the last walker rammed into him, sending him crashing violently into the brick wall of a crumpled church and falling to the ground.

He struggled to his feet—then dodged another stream of yellow bolts. As fast as the old man was, the walker had the advantage now. One bolt caught him in the arm. Two more hit his leg. Another sent him crashing to the ground.

The Hunter landed above Gideon, its three-optic eye burning. It raised one of its razor-sharp pointed legs, ready to strike.

Another hum, as Gideon’s spear point exploded straight through the last walker on its way back to his Lancet. The machine shook uncontrollably, collapsed in a shower of fire and didn’t move.

“Gideon!”
Avril shouted as the White Helix raced forward. Holt and Ravan did the same.

As they ran, the darkness was wiped away by golden, shimmering fields of energy lifting up and out of the fallen walkers on the ground. In the surrounding darkness, they were blinding to look at.

But they didn’t form as Holt had always seen. Their brightness faded almost immediately, the energy seeming to lack cohesion. Another few seconds, and they dimmed, flickering in and out, merging and vanishing into the air.

It must be this place, Holt thought. Something about the Strange Lands disrupted those shapes, whatever they were, just like the water had done at Midnight City. Before he could think it through, he reached the White Helix ringed around their fallen leader.

Holt stared down at the old man—and instantly wished he hadn’t.

Plasma bolts weren’t kind to human flesh. Gideon was still alive, breathing weakly and staring up at his students. Avril held his head in her arms while the rest watched on, stunned.

“Gideon…” Masyn whispered, staring down in disbelief. It was the first time Holt had ever seen anything approaching fear on their faces. Gideon was larger than life. To them, he could never fall, never die, and yet here it was. If
he
could be killed … certainly any of them could.

“You must … hold the line…” When Gideon spoke, his voice was raspy and cracked. His blind gaze stared straight up to where the colored lightning flashed. “The Prime … must reach the Tower.”

“How can we do that?” Castor asked nervously. It was a good question, there was an Assembly army coming for them.

“Fight them,” was Gideon’s response.

“Fight?”
Ravan asked. “There’s hundreds of walkers out there, you said so yourself!”

“Now … there are five less,” Gideon answered.

Ravan wasn’t impressed. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“You saw them fall. Five of them, defeated … by an old blind man.” Gideon coughed and struggled for air, his eyes drifted to his students around him. “This … is what you were
made
for. What
I
made you for. I told you, before we left, you would know who you are, and you
are
the invaders’ reckoning.”

Dane looked at Avril and she back at him. The other Helix all stared at each other in the same way. Confused and scared and uncertain.

“What is … the first Keystone?” Gideon asked.

“We are what we think we are,” the Helix intoned automatically. In the distance, Holt heard the stomping of mechanical legs, the roar of engines in the air.

“Say it
again,
” Gideon commanded.

“We are what we think we are!” the Helix said, this time with strength.

Gideon nodded. “You must … see the truth. You must see yourselves as you are.” His voice was growing weaker; he was fading. “If you have ever believed me, believe me now. After today … your enemies will fear you.”

His foggy eyes came to rest on Avril. She stared down at him with emotion. “Avril. When this is over, honor your obligation. It may seem … a waste, but it has … purpose. If you honor me, you will do this.”

Tears formed in Avril’s eyes. The old man’s hand reached up and gently felt her face.

“I can see you, Avril,” he said, his voice fading. “I can … see you…”

Then he was gone, his body went limp, the life drained away.

The White Helix were frozen in place, staring at Gideon’s body. Avril softly rested his head on the ground, then looked up at Dane. Something passed between them, part fury, part resolution.

Avril stood up, walking purposefully, followed by Dane and the others. Whatever they were thinking, it seemed they were of one mind.

The White Helix fanned out, forming into a long line that stretched twenty-four strong. Each unslung the Lancet from their backs, the glowing crystals humming, as they stared to the south, toward the walking death that was approaching them.

The machines there were clearer now. Two lines, one, the bulk of the army, made up of the smaller, fast tripods. The other … was something else. Something much bigger and still unseen. The smaller walkers darted forward, leaving the bigger ones behind, rushing toward what was left of downtown Bismarck.

“They’re coming, but they’re lined up nice and straight,” Avril yelled. “Fire both volleys.”

“We’ll recall before we reach them,” Dane shouted next to her. “With luck, we’ll drop a few more before we take them one-on-one.”

“One-on-one, huh?” another Helix asked skeptically.

“We’re faster than they are,” Masyn told him, smiling, one of the few. “Just keep moving. Try to lead them into a crossfire.”

Avril lifted her mask up over her nose and mouth. The others did the same. “Ignore the wind, listen for my voice, remember the Spearflow. It’s taught you everything you need.”

Holt stopped behind the line of warriors, staring past them at the rushing onslaught. So did Ravan and her men.

“
Fighting
the Assembly is suicide,” Ravan told Avril. Holt was inclined to agree. It looked insane, impossible. Every experience he had ever had with the Assembly said it was.

“Not if what Gideon said is true,” Avril answered. The others were lowering their blackened goggles over their eyes. “And he’s never lied to me before.”