Time seemed to slow.
Kait stared into the wide-open belly of the Snatcher as it landed over her. The innards were slime and gore, reeking of meat gone bad. This would be the last thing she ever saw, she thought, and then she was falling, fast. A sharp pain registered across the backs of her calves. She hit the dirt and the wind rushed from her lungs.
Above her, the Snatcher’s gaping midsection snapped closed, robbed of its prize. Still it continued on as if it had grabbed her, perhaps not yet realizing it had missed.
There was a hand at her throat. Sal, grasping her by the top of her chest plate. With surprising strength, the wiry old man heaved her back to her feet in one smooth motion. It hurt to stand. She understood then that he’d kicked her legs out from under her, in effect forcing her to dodge the Snatcher’s grasp. An amazing bit of clear-headed thinking, given the chaos around them.
Fighting for breath, she stared into the eyes of a man who’d saved her life once before, and now had done it again.
“The fuck was that?!” he shouted.
A raised eyebrow and quick sideways glance was all Kait could manage.
“Well, hot steamy shit,” Sal muttered. “Maybe you were right after all.” He thrust a rifle into her hands. His rifle, then took another from a shadowy figure inside the truck. His second-incommand, she realized. They’d brought weapons, along with all their other important belongings, and were handing them out.
“This truck’s dead,” Kait finally managed. “We need to get to one behind us.” That meant trekking across a hundred feet of gravel road, exposed save for the still-choked air and the growing darkness.
“We run for it,” Sal said. “Full sprint. No stopping. Everyone got that?”
Kait wanted to say that she’d give the orders here, but realized she would have said the same thing that he had. So she just nodded, and decided maybe it was best to let this man tell his villagers what to do.
Sal took one more glance at the place where the Snatcher had been. Then he spat a glob of red into the dirt there, and, with a clap on Kait’s shoulder, took off into the dust. She limped after him, her calves still stinging.
They were halfway to the next Minotaur when the Snatcher returned. Kait only knew from the sound it made—that sudden shriek like a missile coming in at supersonic speeds. Behind her someone managed to make the shortest scream she’d ever heard, and then the sound was cut off. The Snatcher vanished back into the night, with a human being trapped in its belly. Who it had grabbed, she didn’t know. Not the time to find out. She ran harder, willing her legs to work despite the pain.
Del emerged from the dusty cloud ahead of her, a pistol in each hand. He smiled, then shot at something just behind her. Kait heard another Juvie fall, but there were more coming from the rear of their group.
“Marcus?” he asked.
Kait shook her head. “Lost track of him.”
Their eyes met. What she saw in Del’s face matched her own fear. They’d lost him to a Snatcher once before, and though they’d found him alive later, it had been a very near thing. Kait had no desire to give the Swarm a second chance.
“Get everyone to the truck,” Del told her. “Load ’em in. I’ll find Marcus.”
“You’re not going out there alone,” she said, and found she meant it. Nodding, Del turned to two other Gears who had followed him up from the rear of the caravan.
“Rustad, Lovings?”
“Sir?” the larger of the two answered.
“First truck’s down. If we distribute everyone among the rest, we can get moving again. See to it while we find—”
“No can do,” the big Gear said. He was huge, larger even than Cole. Lovings, his armor named him.
“Why not?”
“Rear truck’s gone.”
“Gone?!”
The man winced and nodded. His companion, Rustad, spoke up.
“Pouncer’s quilled it. Tires, engine, everything. It’s not going anywhere.”
“How many injured?”
Rustad lifted her shoulders. “None.”
“They’re going after the trucks,” Kait whispered. At that instant, Marcus Fenix strode out of the haze. He flicked his Lancer casually toward the dirt, sending a spray of gore in a neat arc.
“Really getting tired of these assholes,” he growled.
“We’re down two trucks,” Del told him, before anyone else could speak.
“Thanks for letting me know, but you two are in charge here.” In the near distance, whoops and shouts of victory went up along the caravan. Kait opened her mouth to shout them quiet, to tell them this was far from over, when she realized they had it right.
The sounds of the Swarm had faded.
“That’s weird,” Del said.
“Definitely weird,” she agreed, “but it’s an opportunity and we need to take it.” At Del’s nod, she continued. “Get everyone from the rear truck and spread them among the other vehicles. There’s no room for all of us, though—the Minotaurs aren’t built for this many. Those of us from the lead truck will have to stay here and wait for evac.”
“Now hold on…” Del said.
“Is there another way?” she demanded.
Del cast about, thinking, perhaps hoping to spot two functioning Minotaurs conveniently parked at the side of the road. There was nothing, though. Just dust and the growing stench of death.
“Kait’s right,” he said finally. Then he glanced at Rustad and Lovings, jerking his chin toward the functioning trucks behind them. It was all the orders they needed. The two Gears nodded and jogged off into the haze, already barking commands to the others.
The shift in strategy took only ten minutes to implement. Kait stood in the road, Del at her left and Marcus at her right, watching the three other Minotaurs drive off into the darkness. When she turned away, Salvador was behind her, with twelve villagers he’d chosen to stay behind and wait for evac.
“Let me guess,” Kait said to him. “You’re thinking, ‘Wow, if this is the kind of protection the COG can offer, we might as well slit our own throats now and be done with it.’ That about right? Go ahead, say it.”
Sal shook his head.
“You were right, Kait.”
“Excuse me?”
He gestured around them. “About the Swarm.”
Kait waited.
Sal added, “We’re ten miles from the village. If they’d found us there, instead, there wouldn’t be a single one of us left.” The man’s gaze expanded to include Del and Marcus. “This fight could have been a bloodbath, too, but as things stand, all but one of our people are still alive and kicking.”
“Sorry for your loss,” she said.
Sal eyed her, gravely. “You, maybe better than any of us, know the risks we take living as Outsiders. It’s a tragedy, no doubt, but a much bigger catastrophe has been averted, and for that, you have my thanks.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Marcus said.
“True,” Sal replied. “But we’ve seen one more sunset than we otherwise would have.”
Kait hoped he was right.
* * *
When Sal suggested they camp under the open sky, Kait felt a strong desire to agree, if only for the nostalgia. But Del insisted they make use of the Minotaurs’ armor.
“Only one of them is upright, though,” Kait said.
“So, let’s do something about it.”
No one complained when she gathered them all to help push the lead Minotaur back onto its wheels. Other than the destroyed radiator and the broken window, the truck had fared surprisingly well.
About a hundred yards back, the rear vehicle was in far worse shape. Quills poked out of every tire, fuel leaked from holes in its tank, and there were gashes along its canvas-covered rear section. An explosion—probably from a poorly thrown grenade—had torn the front axle off its mounts, too, but the cab was intact, as were the armored sides of the cargo area.
Just now, that was all that mattered.
They divided into two groups. Marcus took the rear truck; Kait, Del, and Salvador Pasco went to the front one. The twelve Outsiders were divided between them. Kait took first watch, sitting atop the cab. Now that the dust had settled, she could see the second truck. Marcus was seated atop its roof, and lifted a hand when she did.
A freezing cold wind came up from the south, blustering along the road and sending eddies of dust off into the flat expanse that surrounded them. Kait wondered why Sal had put his village in such a bleak place, and resolved to ask him in the morning. For a man who’d spent most of his life surviving off the forest, this seemed almost like a self-imposed punishment. Or a challenge.
He’d made it work, though, she had to give him that.
* * *
Her watch ended without incident. Four hours of sitting in the icy wind, a jacket wrapped about her head and jaw, eyes covered by goggles. By the time Del finally popped up through the hatch to take over, she’d become stiff and had to work to extricate herself from her position.
“Anything?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“G’night then.”
Yawning, she nodded and went below.
Sal was in the driver’s seat, one cheek pressed against the armored door, snoring softly. She took the passenger seat and drew her knees up to her chest. For a time she just stared out through the small, filthy front window, willing sleep to come. But sleep was an asshole, she’d come to think, and refused to arrive. She’d have to try if she wanted to get there, and knew her only real reward for the effort would be the nightmares.
Funny, she thought, how up on the roof when she’d absolutely had to stay awake, she’d found herself constantly nodding off on the verge of true rest. Now, when she could afford to get some shuteye, she could barely even will her eyes to close.
In desperate need of distraction, Kait switched on a flashlight and fished a satchel from behind the passenger seat. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it—force of habit, she supposed. She’d write a report for Jinn, she decided. It held a lot of appeal, the idea of walking into her office after this and just slapping down a folder.
“It’s all in the report,” she’d say, and stride out, evoking a “you don’t own me” saunter. The thought made her grin.
She hadn’t opened her personal bag since they’d left, and though the binder she’d brought was still in there, along with several pens, she was surprised to see another folder she hadn’t packed. It was blue, and when Kait pulled it free of the leather satchel she read the words printed across the cover.
COALITION OF ORDERED GOVERNMENTS
DEPARTMENT OF THE ARMY—
PERSONNEL REPORT
184729-H55R9-LM (DIAZ, GABRIEL)
And then, stamped below:
TOP SECRET
EYES ONLY
Kait swallowed. Her fingers trembled slightly. What the hell was this? And why was it marked secret? Then she saw the yellow square stuck to the lower right corner. She read it aloud, whispering.
“Knowledge is the best weapon. Read up. H.”
H?
Hoffman. Had to be. Kait glanced back out the window, her eyes unfocused. She wondered what rules—no, what laws—she’d break by opening this. What kind of trouble Hoffman would be in if anyone found out. He was pushing ninety, though, so perhaps he didn’t really give a shit.
She could see him now, wandering around the basement of Government House, making friends with the staff in Records. Making himself a fixture. Becoming someone that no one need bother paying attention to. The man knew his craft. Getting a file out would have been child’s play for him.
Kait broke her gaze away from the tortured road ahead of her, shifting her focus instead to the past.
She opened the folder, and started reading.
Right away she knew something was very, very wrong.