Brigends (The Final War Series Book 1) (24 page)

Forgiving

After the guards ejected him from the U.R.C., Max ran nonstop. The burn in his muscles and the inferno in his chest could not deter him. He was on a mission to fix everything he had mucked up. The only problem — how to convince the one person who hated him the most to help him.

Agarha’s destruction was worse than he expected. A crater, hundreds of meters wide in diameter existed where there was once roads and buildings. The oddest spectacle was of a single structure standing upright, unsteady on a pedestal of teetering rubble.

He descended the mountainous pile of concrete and metal. Along the way, he crossed paths with desperate looters scavenging for whatever they deemed valuable or useful. For safe measure, he avoided contact with them when possible.             

At the bottom, he uncovered a segment of the subterranean somewhat untouched by the explosion, but flooded with knee deep water. Fires dotted the path, some so hot, he had to maneuver around and hollow out new accesses of his own making. He explored, losing hope of finding her alive.

“Chacon!” he called out. “Chacon! Zoe!”

Doubt stirred further self-loathing. She’s dead because of you, his conscience bullied him. You always hurt people who care about you. How many have to die before you get it —
you are a loser
!

He froze and willed himself to stop listening to the devil filling his head with hopelessness. “Max, focus. This ain’t helping.”

His devil listened and didn’t speak again, freeing him to keep going. The smoke grew thicker and his head pounded from lack of oxygen. He couldn’t focus.

There is no way she survived when that bomb went off
.
She’s as good as dead
.

His hope faded. Turning to go back, he saw a shaft of light streaking through an opening of what remained of two large wooden doors. He shoved the debris out-of-the-way and crossed the jagged doorsill into a room mostly unscathed. The light he had seen was coming from a portable lamp on a bedecked table once cluttered with papers and books.

On the side farthest from the portal was Zoe, stooped beside her father’s bed. She held his hand and caressed his brow. Max sloshed through the layer of water covering the ground. When he got too close, she ripped out her sidearm and aimed it at his head.

“Whoa!” The kid jumped.

Anger compelled her to fire, but her trigger finger refused to carry out the sin. The better of her conflicted emotions prevailed and she holstered the pistol.

He didn’t blame her for being angry at him, not one damn bit. After coming so far to find her, he now wondered if leaving would be the better choice. Unfortunately, he needed her and couldn’t give her the peace she wanted.

“You did the right thing,” the Old Man said.

She kissed his hand and adjusted the folds of the blanket covering him. “Shut up, you old fool.”

He waved Max over. The kid knelt beside Zoe and took the offered hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think this would happen.”

“I know. It’s only human to not see past the choices we make.”

Nerve impulses fired off for the last time, making him wince. Zoe tried to impose, but he tightened the grip on Max’s hand and refused her the opportunity.

“Every choice, every action of your years has brought you here to this point,” he said. “But, remember, that is your past. Your future doesn’t have to be ruled by it. Believe this and you will change the world.”

“I mucked things up bad. What I’ve done can’t be forgiven.”

“Why are you so sure? Look at Zoe. You can’t see it, because she wants you to think she hates you. It’s a lie.”

She glanced away so he couldn’t see the truth.

“Max, don’t dwell on the past. It’s behind you. It’s your present that is being written and... your future that remains unknown.” The more he talked, the harder he labored to breathe.

“How do I stop them? How do I save Marta? How do I make it right?”

“Find the crystal. When you give it to her, she will take care of the rest.”

He let go of the boy’s grip and reached for Zoe. She knew what was coming. If anything, the Old Man wished his last picture wasn’t of her heartache, but of her joy.

“Oh, my dear girl, I always loved your... smile.”

His life ended.

As she wept, Max pulled the blanket up to cover the Old Man. He then eased his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react, which he accepted as a positive sign.

“I’m so sorry. I know you hate me, but I need you. I have to make everything right. Please? I can’t do this by myself.”

She wiped the tears. “I don’t hate you. I’m... just disappointed.” She paused for composure. “He believed in you, even after what you did. He believed everyone deserves a second chance. I didn’t want to believe it. Funny. He was right. He was always right.” She touched his arm. “I believe in you, too. Yes, I’ll help you.”

Max laughed from relief. “Good, because I don’t know what to do.”

“No shit,” she joked with strained effort.

She leaned in and kissed the part of the blanket covering her father’s head. Her final goodbye lasted only a moment. When she was ready, she stood up. In her left hand, she held the cracked head of his walking cane. The blue ora on its crest glowed with an evaporating light. With little effort, she pried it from the cradle. Stowing it in her jacket, she headed to the wooden doors.

Seeing the ora reminded Max of what the Old Man said. He had to fetch the crystal he stashed at the firehouse. Retrieving it would be simple, but getting it to Marta would be a different matter. They needed an advantage.

“Wait. We have to get Dinx.”

She took him to the only other part of Agarha to survive the destruction — a storage room. Opening the thick metal doors of a locker, Dinx stumbled out, twitching worse than ever.

Max reached to help him. “You okay?”

“No,” he shouted. “I am not okay! That crazy old woman put me in here!”

“Zoe? Why did you —“

“Hey, don’t judge. I didn’t see him following me until after I got here. I didn’t know what else to do with him. I was afraid a looter would steal him or worse.”

“She’s crazy!”

“Alright!” Max said, shaking his head. “Dinx, pull yourself together. We got work to do.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you — or her! I’m going home. I can’t take this kind of abuse.”

“We need you.”

“No! I want to go back to my life where I ain’t being shot at, stuff getting blown up around me, and people being mean to me.”

“Please. Think about Marta. She needs you.”

“I want to go home!”

“Dinx, think about this, you can be a hero.”

“No,” he repeated. “Being a hero is easy when people ain’t trying to kill me.”

He made a run for it, but Max grabbed his arm and held him. “Let go of me!”

“Not until you agree to help us.”

“Let go of me, Max. I mean it.”

“Only if you promise you’ll help.”

“No, you can’t make me.”

Zoe, fed up with the childish back-and-forth, pulled out her gun. “We don’t have time for this.”

She chambered a round and aimed the weapon at Dinx. Both of the boys stiffened and their eyes widened.

“On second thought, I’ll go with you guys.”

“Cool,” Max said, afraid his partner would make good on her threat. “Good, because we got to hurry.”

As they were leaving, he pulled Zoe aside. “Were you really going to shoot him?”

She winked.

“Wow, that’s cold.” He thought about something else. “Hey, back there, were you really thinking about shooting me?”

She didn’t say a word. The thought had crossed her mind.

“Chacon? Zoe?” Her steely silence worried him, but he didn’t blame her. “Okay, I guess I deserve that.”

The demolished firehouse was no different from the ruins of Agarha. It had little worth salvaging after the plunderers had picked clean the goodies.

The tin can Max had stashed the ora in was not where he had hidden it. After fumbling through a pile of castoffs, he found it untouched. Popping the lid, he was relieved to see the crystal safely tucked inside.

Dinx trotted downstairs with a cracked data-plate and a decoder. He stuffed both devices inside a small satchel slung over his shoulder.

The trio set out on foot. Along the way, a half-decent rescue plan was hatched. It gave Max confidence in their chances, but Zoe was not as convinced and expected to die during the raid.

Listening to their arguing, Dinx calculated how far he would get if he tried to make a break for freedom. Believing Chacon would beat him for trying, he kept quiet and prayed for salvation to every god he could think of.

When all seems lost

Marta basked in the grandeur of her rebirth. Gone was her fear. The unlimited control over reality had elevated her to levels of perception unimaginable by lesser beings.

The healed wound left only a thin scar on flesh afire with ominous energy. The eyes that once conveyed incorruptibility now blazed with an icy purpose. Although obedient to her master, her posture suggested otherwise. There was no doubt she was capable of unfathomable acts.

Admiring the girl’s perfection, Kroll took pride in his handiwork. Not even her mother, who had once been the greatest of their kind, could have elicited such veneration from him. Nadiya had been a deity lessened by her love for humans and the steadfast faith in their unrealized prominence. Now, thanks in part to his intervention, her daughter no longer shared this flaw. Marta epitomized the Zolarian fulfillment of metaphysical ascendance.

No transhuman before him had dared to seek such glory. By his influence, their race would ready itself for the next evolutionary progression. Nothing would oppose him.

As if queued by fate, the first test to his burgeoning regime came when the door opened and Isoles stormed in with her Vityaz henchmen. He remained passive while the soldiers surrounded him and Marta. The wrinkled hag did not disappoint. She had taken the bait.

“Kroll,” she hissed through her ugly fangs. “By order of Malus, your master, you are to surrender. Lay down your ora.”

“No.”

“How dare you defy
us
.”

“I serve no one.” He moved aside to present Marta’s glory. “Bow before me and I may allow you to live.”

The girl’s aura blinded the old crone. She retreated, horrified by what this child’s existence would mean for the Collective. “What is this abomination?”

“The future.”

Isoles flapped her boney hand. “Kill them! Kill them both!”

Kroll’s bolts destroyed the troopers before they could execute her order.

The serpent flexed to strike, but Marta intercepted with a simple wave and raised the woman into the air.

“I anticipated Malus would send you to do his dirty work.”

Isoles struggled to speak. “There is no place... for you in... our utopia. You must... die!”

Amused, he said, “No, there will be no place for you in
my utopia
.”

He went to Marta and whispered a command in her ear. She nodded and formed her hand into a clenched fist. The old woman shrieked as her body compacted within the shrinking bubble. Bones snapped and sliced tendons. She died when her internal organs imploded. Marta released the corpse and it splattered on the floor.

The trauma of half a million volts surging through his body caused Emil to vomit bile. He vaulted and then fell flaccid. The Russian commander laughed.

Tank, helpless to stop the cruelty, barked, “Leave him alone!”

Serov poked again. “This is fun, no?”

With each dwindling thrash, the entertainment value tapered. He finished, tucked the prod under his arm, and used a cloth to wipe the sweat from the nodes.

“Ah, Pavel, you are more fun than I can handle. I am not a young man anymore.” He unclasped the top button on his tunic. “However, I am disappointed to see there’s no fight left in you. You are not living up to your reputation.”

Emil heard the taunts, but he didn’t care anymore about his ego or his adversary’s pretentiousness. He summoned just enough strength to look at the demoralized faces of his crew and allies. He cursed his detested reputation and the profane legend it had spawned. These people didn’t follow him through Hell’s throat; they followed the Haiduc and its virtuous lie.

He had failed them.

The hidden door opened and Kroll entered with Marta, who was garbed in the witch’s blood-stained cloak. Everyone watched the pair come into the light.

“Where is Isoles?” Serov asked.

“Do not fret. She has been dealt with properly.”

“She was a threat to our plan?”

“Not anymore,” Kroll mocked.

Emil saw the change in his daughter. “What have you done to her?”

“I freed her mind. When she saw the truth, she freely gave herself to me.”

“Marta?” he called to her, hoping she could hear him.

She didn’t recognize his plea.

“Marta, do not be rude,” Kroll encouraged her. “Say hello to the General.”

She removed the hood, revealing her disturbing features and unholy blue eyes.

His heart waned. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

She examined him with her demonic eyes. “I was your daughter only because you impregnated the woman who was my mother. Regardless of your inferior contribution, I am a Zolarian. Save your confession, human. I do not care for it.”

“Well said.” Kroll applauded.

Imprisoned — tortured — and having his mind violated... those degradations were nothing compared to the pain he endured at seeing her corruption. He prayed for a merciful death to spare him any further anguish.

Serov stepped up. “Has the time come?”

“Yes. Return to your fleet and recall your troops from the city.”

“What about the damn hybrids on my ships?”

“Leave them in place. We do not wish to alert Malus to something being amiss.”

“And them?” he asked, referring to the prisoners.

“Do with them as you will.” Kroll turned to Marta. “Come along, dear.”

He held her arm and escorted her from the compartment. Emil watched helplessly as the door closed, disconnecting him from his daughter.

The Russian tossed the electro-prod to one of the troopers. “Purge them one by one. Keep
him
alive long enough to see their suffering, and then put him out of his misery.” He saluted Emil. “
Dasvidaniya
, Haiduc.”

He left his men to carry out the orders. The activation of electro-prods produced panic in the prisoners. Soon after, their screams penetrated the bulkheads.

A shock stabbed Minsk’s torso, but the Russian absorbed the sting and refused to cry out. He laughed and spoke in his mother’s language, “What? Is that the best you can do?”

A trooper advanced on Tank. The giant was not as bold and curled to avoid what was coming. “Hey! What are you going to do with that? Huh? Hey! Don’t you do that!”

Just as the arcing electrodes touched his chest, Max ran into the room. The troopers looked at one another, bewildered.

“Hey, any of you dinks been looking for me?” he crowed, thinking his wisecrack sounded clever.

The Vityaz abandoned their orders and marched on him. His audacity changed to panic. “Dinx?” he said into the tel-link. “Dinx? Now, Dinx! Dinx, anytime! Dinx!”

The power to the prisoners’ shackles powered off, freeing everyone. Max rushed from the cellblock to avoid what was about to go down.

Tank landed on his feet behind his would-be torturer. With the
thunk
of a metal fist smacking a face-piece, he sailed the cyborg across the room with one solid strike.

The melee escalated and freed prisoners from every cellblock joined with the Bandit’s crew in confronting their captors. Gunfire rang out over the havoc.

Minsk smashed the armor of his torturer repeatedly, giving up only when there wasn’t anything left of the soldier worth beating.

Not once during the ruckus did the Haiduc join the fight. He stayed prostrated as the conflict raged around him.

Max returned with Zoe and Dinx after the dust settled and the brigends were in control of the prison.

Tank greeted his old pals. “About time you showed up.”

“Are you still in one piece, big guy?” she joked. “If not, then we can come back after they have their way with you.”

He laughed, leaned over, and planted a big wet kiss on her head.

Max pulled Emil to his feet. “You ready to finish this?”

“Why? They’ve won.”

“Not yet they haven’t.” He held up the crimson ora.

“You’re too late, son. She’s been tranced. That thing will only make her stronger.”

“Fine. Go ahead and give up. The Old Man said the crystal has to be given to her and that’s what I’m going to do, even if I have to take on the Alliance by myself. You talk a lot, but I haven’t seen squat from you.”

Somehow, the boy’s verbal assault struck its mark.

“Time to put up or shut up. You in?”

The kid’s bravado reminded him of John Zander’s blustering personality. Sucking up the self-pity, Emil Pavel put on the guise of a leader again.

“You sound like your father,” he remarked. “Yeah, I’m with you. But, don’t you ever think I’ll take orders from you.”

The Bandit’s crew armed themselves with guns from the armory and the bodies of the dead Vityaz. The other freed prisoners funneled into the compartment to meet those responsible for their liberation.

A tall, straggly man with a heinous scar across his nose pushed past the crowd. “General, on behalf of my soldiers, I thank you. We’ve waited a long time for this.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Jack Jessup. I was a colonel — 205th Combat Air Wing. If you’re going to war, we want to enlist.”

He inspected the malnourished brigends. They weren’t in the best of health. Some were not completely intact from past injuries inflicted. Despite the shabbiness, they were eager to join the fight.

Emil looked at Zoe for her say. With her approval, he accepted their enthusiastic contribution with a salute. He joked, “A mucked up army is better than no army. Welcome back to the fight,
Colonel
.”

Kroll waited impatiently on the airfield for the transport to arrive. Every passing second risked the revelation of his treachery reaching Malus. When the shuttle finally approached, his temper was on edge.

From the main facility, the brigend army invaded the field. “Stop them!” Emil commanded. “Don’t let them escape!”

The Vityaz formed a defensive line around their masters. The brigends scattered for cover behind any available barriers as the firefight erupted. They gained and the quickly lost the tactical advantage. Against the cyborgs who adapted exponentially with each loss, the veterans were no match.

The boys tried to stay on Zoe’s heels, but the hail of bullets thickened and they broke from her to seek cover behind a stack of crates. It wasn’t an ideal hiding spot. Bullets chipped away at the plastic containers sheltering them. Between cycles of gunfire, Max managed to peek out and get a fix on Marta.

“We have to get to her. If we circle and sneak up on them, then we might have a shot. Come on.”

Dinx hated the plan, but since Max didn’t bother to get his input, he had no choice but to tag along. A lull in the fighting gave them the gateway to work around the perimeter of the battlefield and sneak up behind her position.

The situation settled to a deadlock with neither side gaining a foothold. Kroll, unhappy with the delay, ordered, “Put a stop to this nonsense.”

Marta moved past the Vityaz and onto the exposed tarmac. Bullets sliced past her head.

Emil signaled to his people. “Watch your fire! Don’t hit the girl!”

Pulling electricity from the surrounding machinery, she formed a barrier to shield her body. When enough energy had amassed, she hurled hot plasma at the brigends. Vehicles exploded in fireballs and mangled bodies flew.

Many of the Bandit’s crew perished from the first volley. After the survivors retreated far enough back to stay out of her range, she disengaged and returned to Kroll’s side. They boarded the shuttle without further interference.

“Goddamn it,” Emil cursed.

Zoe noticed the boys scurrying to the tail end of the shuttle. “What the hell is he doing?”

The craft’s engines whirled to full strength.

“We’re too late!” Dinx pointed out. “They’re taking off.”

Seizing the last chance, Max snatched his friend by the collar. “Come on.”

They climbed inside the port gear well, straddling the skid to avoid the closing flaps, as the shuttle hovered. They disappeared inside the undercarriage.

Zoe charged at the taxiing aircraft. “No!”

Enemy fire could not hold her back. Single-handedly, she wiped out half of the opposing units with her ferocity. Motivated by her death-defying example, the remaining brigends charged and overran the last of the Alliance soldiers.

Her attempt at saving Max was futile; the shuttle veered and roared up to the dullish yellow sky. She refused to give up and looked frantically for anything to aid her in giving pursuit.

Emil yanked on her jacket. “Captain, stop. They’re gone.”

“No! We have to find another shuttle.”

“There’s nothing we can do for them here.”

“I won’t leave him!”

“Zoe,” he pleaded. “That Zolarian has my daughter. I know what you’re feeling. Listen to me.” He softened his tone. “There might be a way to help them. Our only chance is to get to my ship. Do you hear me?”