The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(12)

Swearing, Torran again dared to poke his head out and surveyed the area for the Abscrag. There was another hiss, and he ducked. The disc hit a tree nearby, bolts of energy crackling against the trunk. A rapid check of his ammunition readout on his weapon did not offer any comfort. He was running low and would have to reload. That would give his enemy an opportunity to rush him.

The night was full of violence. He could hear explosions, gunfire, and the screech of the Scrags in the distance, but the woods around him were strangely muted. The nocturnal creatures inhabiting the forest were quiet, most likely sensing a predator nearby. The Abscrag had no interest in animals though. She wanted Torran. She wanted Goodwin.

The crack of a branch snapping was followed by the audible movement of the Abscrag closing on his location. Taking a chance, he leaned out and fired in the direction of the sounds. There was a grunt, then two more sparking discs flew past him and into the night.

Torran checked his ammo counter again. Alkan knew where he was, but he wasn’t sure of her position. He pondered waiting until she made a move to retrieve Goodwin before attacking. His mind spun out possibilities.

Seconds later, they were all rendered moot.

The screech of Scrags filled the woods.

Menacing laughter followed.





Chapter 4


Recalling the maintenance cart Castellan Dwayne Reichardt had used to reach the subway station at the end of the line took much longer than Lindsey expected. Vaja had reopened all the security blast doors at the various intersections to keep it running at top speed to where Lindsey and the others were waiting, but it was still a long distance. Her boyfriend was watching the security feed and keeping her updated, but it was challenging not to feel disquieted by the fact that a dead Scrag was in the tunnels. A part of her brain kept wondering if maybe Denman could somehow return to life to attack her and the others.

Hobbes, Giacomi and Franklin stood at the base of the stairs leading down to the subway platform while Lindsey sat on the top step. The advertising vid screens were eerie in the darkness and a few old vending machines sat lifeless and empty on the landing below her. Though she’d seen footage of the old subways when they’d been operational before the valley fell to the Inferi Scourge, that time period seemed unreal to her. She couldn’t imagine a world without shortages, a crumbling infrastructure, and antiquated machinery.

“So are they going to fix your bum leg now that we’re taking back the valley?” Hobbes asked, plopping down next to her.

Lindsey gave him a long, speculative look out of the corner of her eye. “Why do you ask?”

“It’d be cool to have you back among us now that our duty won’t only be patrolling the wall,” came the sincere reply.

“Well, I don’t know how long it’ll take to get our resources to the point where they’ll consider fixing it,” Lindsey answered honestly. She was afraid to even hope they’d put her on the list for reconstructive surgery.

“It’d suck that they didn’t fix it. What the hell happened? Equipment malfunction or something? I heard they shut down the cloning wards for that reason,” Franklin said.

“The denial letter said the refusal was due to shortages.” Lindsey really didn’t want to discuss it. She’d been devastated when she received the official word. She’d wanted to rejoin Maria on the wall, but instead was trapped in the communication hub. If not for her illegal hacking, she’d have died of boredom.

“Sounds like equipment malfunctions. They won’t admit to how run down everything is,” Giacomi decided.

“SWD has some primo new uniforms though. Did you see them on the vids?” Hobbes shook his head. “Why do they always get the good stuff?”

“I heard they had their own reserves squirreled away before the gate fell. Constabulary is dependent on the city reserves, but SWD has their own thing going,” Giacomi replied.

“Is that true?” Franklin asked Lindsey.

“Hell if I know,” Lindsey shrugged, but suspected it was the truth. “I’m just a grunt.”

“Vanguard Grunt!” Hobbes saluted.

Lindsey refrained from hitting him, reminding herself that she was now their commanding officer. “Vanguard Rooney,” she corrected.

The mood sobered immediately.

Resisting a sigh, she realized that they were trying to adapt to the new pip on her uniform as much as she was. An incoming message from command was a welcome distraction. She toggled over to Petra.

“What’s going on?”

“There is only one survivor from the squad dispatched to the mining facility. He’s on foot and on the run. He’s running from what he’s calling Abscrags. He says they have electroshock weapons. SWD does not have a tiltrotor in route yet.”

“Electroshock weapon? How’d they get that?”

“A tiltrotor was overrun when it set down about an hour ago to dispatch a squad. Electroshock weapons were cached onboard,” Petra answered in a grim tone.

Lindsey knew the SWD liked to use the electroshock rifles during riots, but the Constabulary had been opposed to them since the weapons were known to short out the ancient battle armor the Constabulary soldiers wore. There’d been cases of SWD security forces accidentally hitting Constabulary soldiers while trying to break up food riots. The soldier on the run was in dire danger if the electroshock weapon had the same effect on SWD armor.