the wrong end of flash grenades.
The cacophony banged inside his skull, ricocheting from one side to the other until his equilibrium was shot to hell. Not that balance would help him when he was sprawled out on the floor.
He rolled onto his right side and reached for his Covar, but his perception was off. The three blurry images of the weapon were all out of reach.
He hoped his screwed-up vision was tripling the number of people dropping from the ceiling. They were everywhere. The nearest enemy approached, yelling something Rykus’s shattered hearing couldn’t translate. The man wore military garb and was camouflaged with a layer of dust and dirt that might as well have said he’d crawled up the ventilation shaft.
He pointed a rifle at Rykus’s chest. Rykus watched its barrel weave back and forth until the blur solidified into a single point. His clearing vision didn’t improve the situation though. The room might not be filled with triple the number of bad guys, but the probability of surviving this attack wasn’t great.
He looked away from the rifle to find the one person in the room who didn’t give a damn about the odds. Ash was a good three meters away, lying facedown on the floor. Breathing but not moving.
Two men strode toward her.
“Hey!” Rykus yelled. The rifle jabbed into his chest as one of the men kicked Ash’s ribs. She curled up, protecting herself. The move was so un-Ash-like Rykus’s reality slowed and stuttered.
It was like watching a vid replay at half speed. Ash let the man grab her, let him shove her to her back and put his weapon in her face despite having the perfect opportunity to execute a Creisian arms switch. She didn’t put up any fight at all, not even when the man grabbed her face.
Rykus let his hold on his rage go, accepted the risk, and grabbed the rifle with both hands, knocking its trajectory up and over his shoulder.
Every weapon opened fire.
The booms and blasts lasted no more than five seconds before silence retook the room.
Rykus should have been strafed with bullets, should have had holes in his chest, pouring out rivers of red. Ash, Chace, and Mira should have been staring lifelessly across the room with their heads split open and brain matter splattered across the floor, but not one of them had a fatal injury, and Chace was grinning at the newcomers who’d rushed through the door.
They wore the hooded longcoats Glory’s gangs were enamored with. Despite the swaths of black material covering the lower portions of their faces, Chace greeted them as if he’d known they’d appear.
Rykus let Chace deal with them while he crawled across the blood-streaked floor to Ash, who was still curled into a ball.
Worry slammed its fist into his chest. He said her name, put his hand on her shoulder.
She spun so quickly her elbow slammed into his arm.
“Easy,” he said, holding his hands out in an attempt to placate the wild fear in her eyes.
Fear. From Ash.
A chill shot through him. He started to look over his shoulder, started to wonder about the newcomers, but a word scraped from Ash’s throat.
“Kris.”
Not a word. A name.
Right when he was thinking she might know one of the masked men, the name slipped into place, and he matched the fear in her eyes to the event that had scarred her past. Kris Menchan was one of her former teammates. Jevan Valt had murdered him along with the rest of her team after the mission to Chalos II.
He grabbed both her arms, squeezed tight when she tried to jerk away.
“You’re not there, baby. You’re with me.”
She met his gaze. Blinked. It took several more seconds for the haze of terror to leave her eyes.
He wished he could erase her nightmares. He’d settle for breaking every bone in Valt’s body. He wouldn’t stop this time. He’d break Valt’s bones again and again until they were weathered down to space dust.
Ash drew in shallow, shaky breaths.
“You with me?” he asked.
When she gave a curt nod, he squeezed her arms, telling her he understood, that he was with her too, and he had her back, always.
She rose to a knee. Rykus helped her the rest of the way up, made sure she was steady, then released her.
Another deep breath, a squaring of her shoulders, and she turned toward Chace and the newcomers.
“Who are you?” she demanded, stepping over a body to cross the room. The long-coated men had killed the technicians along with the gunmen. They might not be enemies, but assassinating civilians meant they weren’t friendlies either.
The man speaking to Chace unhooked his mask but kept his hood raised.
“My name is Denn,” he said. “We can get you out of here, but we need to move quick.”
A man helped Mira to her feet. The doctor didn’t look afraid. She looked pissed. Likely, she wasn’t a fan of murdering civilians either.
Rykus dipped to the floor, retrieving his Covar, before he straightened and put a hand on Ash’s lower back, urging her toward the door. She didn’t move.
“Get us out of here to where?” she asked, her tone too cold, considering these men had just saved their asses.
“Safety,” Denn said. He motioned his men back to the corridor.
“Why?” Ash said.
Denn frowned. “Why what?”
“Why would you help us? What are you getting out of it?”
The frown deepened. “You’re Ash.” It was almost a question.
“And you’re some—”
“Come on, Ash,” Chace said. “Let’s go. We can talk about your righteous indignation later.”
Righteous indignation? Was this a betrayal? Chace had stopped Rykus from contacting the Fighting Corps. Had he contacted someone else?
No. The timeline didn’t make sense. Communications had been up two, maybe three minutes when the first attack came. Denn and his people showed up just a few minutes after that. Both groups had been on the way before the dampeners went down.
Something about the timeline, a correlation between it and Ash’s anger, tugged at his attention. He didn’t have time to focus on it though. They were in a shitty position, under-armed and hurt and out of options.
“We need to go,” he said, putting more pressure on her back. This time she moved.
Denn organized his men, sending four to take the lead and two to the rear while he stayed with Chace and Ash. They moved down the corridor, cutting through the building’s center and passing more than a few bodies. Problem was, according to Ash’s description of the facility, this wasn’t the way to an exit. They were headed west. The only thing that way was the ocean.
Near what he judged to be the northwest corner, the party drew to a stop. Two men took off packs they wore over their longcoats. One took out what appeared to be climbing equipment while the other withdrew a flat black circle. Rykus recognized it as a breaching disk.
The man disappeared around the corner, and Ash looked at Denn. “Military grade?”
Denn nodded. “Get clear.”
They moved to the wall, pressed against it, and waited.
If he hadn’t endured a crash into the ocean, a day of dodging a head-splitting tram, and a brain-wrecking flash grenade, he might have thought the explosion powerful. As it was, the blast was just another hammer beating at the nails piercing his already battered skull.
After the shock wave roared past, he braced a hand against the wall for balance, let his equilibrium level out, then he made his way around the corner.
The breaching disk had blasted a perfectly round hole in the facility’s wall, providing a huge, porthole-like view to a night-shaded ocean. The man with the climbing gear passed out quick-harnesses, then took the climbing anchors to the edge of the hole.
Rykus fastened his harness around his waist, then unwrapped the two three-centimeter-wide straps wound around the device. He passed those between his legs, then hooked them to the belt at his back.
Something clunked to his left. He turned to see Mira pick up her harness. Hands shaking, she buckled it.
“You know how to use that?” he asked.
“I think so.” Her fingers fiddled with the straps, trying to get them unwound.
“Here.” He placed her hand over the release mechanism. “Pinch.”
She followed his instructions, and the straps loosened enough for her to unwrap them.
He helped her hook them to the back of the belt. “You’re holding up well.”
“You mean I’m not getting us all killed.”
“You’re keeping up. Keeping it together. Not many civilians could do that.”
“This is my fault. If Ash…” Mira shook her head. “I made a mistake. I can’t undo it.”
Two longcoats hooked their harnesses to the anchors, then disappeared through the hole. Chace followed them. Ash stood at the edge and watched them descend.
Rykus guided Mira to the breach and hooked her harness to the anchor.
“Keep a hand on the rope,” he said. “Don’t grip it and don’t descend too fast or you’ll burn your palm. Put pressure on the center of the buckle to descend. If you stop the pressure, you’ll stop your descent. Got it?”
“Got it.” She moved to the edge and looked down.
“You rappel before?” he asked.
“Once or twice.”
“It’s just like that,” he said, then amended, “Or a little like that. Face me. Then, when you’re ready, push off backward and feed out the rope.”
“Easy as that?” She faced him as instructed, then looked down and back.
“You’ll be fine once you jump.”
She snorted.
“Need a push?” Ash said.
Mira shot a glare her way.
Ash didn’t blink. “You’ve got three seconds.”
“I’ll do it,” Mira grumbled.
“One.”
“I said I’ll do—”
Ash shoved her out the hole.
Rykus sighed.
“Real helpful,” he said. He peered down, making sure Mira was okay. It looked like she was descending at a safe speed. The trick would be getting into a boat. There were two waiting below, fighting the waves pummeling the cliff.
“This is a well-orchestrated rescue,” he said.
Ash made a noncommittal sound in response, then hooked to the anchor and jumped. Rykus gave her a few seconds and followed.
Wind whipped past as he fell, chilling his sweat-damp skin. He stuttered his descent, pressing and releasing the button on his harness. He didn’t have a wall to kick against, so he spun at the wind’s whim, dropping in a sickening spiral until the roar of crashing waves signaled the time to stop.
Swinging a good five meters above the ocean, he assessed his situation. Even at that height, the waves thrashed hard enough to soak his lower body. The icy bite chased air from his lungs. It would get worse when he reached the boat. Ash was climbing inside one now, thoroughly drenched from head to toe. From the looks of it, the others on the boat weren’t better off. Two men bailed water while the driver did his best to keep the boat away from the rocks. One boat gave up and circled away.
He’d have to aim for the second one.
Rykus lowered himself farther and swung his legs back and forth, building momentum. He placed his fingers on the top and bottom of his harness, applied pressure to release the line, but a particularly brutal wave crashed against the boat. It nearly capsized. By some magical feat, the driver saved it, maneuvering away from the rocks. Away from Rykus.
Shit.
He swung harder. Salt water burned his eyes. His fingers numbed. He could barely feel the rope in his right hand or the harness he gripped with his left. Another long, rough arc toward the cliff, then back out to the ocean, and he took the chance. He squeezed the release and jetted toward the boat.
He half made it, slamming down on the watercraft’s side. His weight sank it enough for the ocean to pour inside. He almost let go—a lifebuoy jumped and kicked over the waves to his right—but a hand gripped his arm.
Ash.
He was twice her weight, more likely to pull her out than for her to pull him in, but a second hand joined hers. Denn and Ash hefted him over the ledge, and he splashed into the boat.
He pushed to his feet to help with bailing. The driver didn’t remain in the chaos of waves and rock long though, and the moment he cleared to a safer distance, the drain-lines caught up with the water.
Denn passed out drinking water and rations. When he handed them to Ash, he asked, “North or south?”
The roar of the waves quieted as the two boats eased away from the cliff. Ash opened her water and drank.
“South,” Chace answered for her. “We’re headed—”
Ash jerked her attention to Chace. “You’re going north. All of you are.”
“All of us?” Denn echoed.
Her steady, stony silence said yes.
Chace huffed out a breath. “Ash, we need—”
“What do we need, Chace? Denn and half a dozen unknown men tracking our movement? Learning names?”
“I trust my dregs,” Denn said.
“That’s a mistake.” Her eyes chilled ocean cold.
The urge to take command swept through Rykus, strong as a Javerian torrent, but something was playing out here, some dynamic he couldn’t quite identify. He slipped his ration bar into a pocket and set down his water bottle.
“Come on,” Chace said to Ash. “We’re half-dead. Denn has guns and dregs. Others will—”
Ash shoved him overboard.
Rykus looked at Ash with a what-the-hell expression, but she wasn’t looking at him. She stood in the center of the boat, balancing effortlessly as the waves rocked it back and forth.
“You want him back on board?” Denn asked, watching as Mira moved to the boat’s side and extended her hand.
“Not really,” Ash said.
Denn crossed his arms and leaned against the captain’s chair. There was that dynamic again. It scraped at Rykus’s attention, wanting to be analyzed, but Mira needed help. When he moved to give it, Denn blocked his path.
You’ve gotta be kidding…
Denn tensed up when he did. Rykus’s fist clenched.
“Let him back on,” Ash said, sighing as if Chace was an annoying alert she couldn’t swipe off her cuff.
Denn angled one small degree to the left. Hardly an invitation to pass, but Rykus shouldered him out of the way, then helped Mira pull Chace back inside.
Chace plopped to his back, coughing and cursing and staring at the night sky. Rykus had to give the man credit. Ash had almost shot him back in the control room, almost let him drown now, and there were other times she had treated him like shit and Chace never once flinched. He never called her out on it. Ash claimed she had no friends on Glory, but the man watched her back. He might advocate for actions Ash objected to, but when she pushed back, he trusted and followed her instincts.
Another elusive little thought tugged at his attention. He frowned down at Chace, then shifted his focus to Denn, who appeared to be waiting for Ash’s next order. The other two longcoats watched and waited too, almost as if…
It fell into place then, the dynamic that had been bothering him since they’d crashed into the ocean. The small hints and clues he’d glimpsed but hadn’t pieced together.
How had he not recognized it?
How had the Coalition not known?
He looked at Ash as the boat rocked beneath him. “You were a boss.”