Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) (51 page)

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Authors: Paula Flumerfelt

BOOK: Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy)
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There was an awkward silence between the group before Solomon said, “And that is…?”

 

“Hollow’s Day is the holiday that only comes around once every eight years. It’s the day that there is only one sun in the sky, and the custom is to sleep in, eating with friends and neighbors, and generally shirk your responsibilities.” Erik answered in a bored voice, “People celebrate the belief that when they only see one sun, it’s a sign that the god are blessing them for another eight years, not cursing them with plague or something of the like.”

 

Kiev laughed, hands on her hips, “Mathieu, you cleaver dog. You planned specifically for this, didn’t you?”

 

“I do have a trick or two up my non-existent sleeves.”
Most of them chuckled. He had regulated an outfit to be worn for his whole unit: a close cut, dark green tunic, dark brown pants that were practically painted on, soft leather boots, and fingerless gloves that came up to the elbows. He wasn’t going to have anyone die because they couldn’t move in their clothing. Mathieu pinned his hair back from his face, then took a deep breath and scooped up his sword. It was time.

 

~*~

 

Dawn is the most fickle time of day. Sometimes it bursts from nowhere, illuminating everything within its path until it vanquishes the darkness back to its void. Other times, like that morning, it slowly creeps across the landscape, taking languid strides over the land from the horizon. The light that morning was moving at its own, unhurried pace, dancing into the sky on its lonesome journey. It approached from behind Mathieu’s unit.

 

Mathieu was standing at the edge of the forest, still cloaked in the momentary darkness. The plan was simple. Once the false light that preceded the real tendrils of yellow illuminated the area around them, they were to make their move. A single sun provided a nice glare to hide their approach behind, should anyone be up. He really doubted it, however.

 

Solomon stood to his left, Erik on his right. Closing his eyes for the briefest of moments, Mathieu could see his mother and his best friend waiting for him. Failure was not an option.

 

“They’ve got guns, you know…” Kiev said from a few feet back.

 

Erik rolled his eyes, “Why do you think we put the people who can make force fields in the front?
For fun?”

 

“Enough.” Mathieu said softly. The area around his feet was beginning to lighten. Taking a breath for courage, he started towards the city, keeping his head low and one hand on the pummel of his sword. The false light stayed even with him, as if doing what it could to help him with his endeavor. After a few moments, he could hear the soft crunching of grass under the feet of the others as they followed him to Zurn.

 

Vincent’s warmth brushed the side of his leg as they made it to the edge of the shanty houses. As he had predicted, the place was practically deserted. As quickly and quietly as they possibly could, they made their way up the rows of houses, using what little cover they could to stay out of the view of the homes’ front windows.

 

They were about a third of the way up the hill when suddenly a door on his left opened slowly. A young boy, maybe six or seven came into the fenced off front yard, carrying a bright red ball in his arms. A woman followed him, dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes widened as they flick from him to Solomon, who had pulled loose a throwing knife.

 

Mathieu hand caught his lover’s wrist before it could pull back and he shook his head quickly, turning his attention to the woman. He hoped against hope that she wouldn’t scream and alert others. Slowly, he brought a finger to his lips before nodding to the little boy and then back to the house.

 

“We should kill her. She could warn them that we’re coming.” Solomon hissed in his ear as the woman
scooped up her child.

 

Mathieu shook his head, “I don’t kill innocents.” There was no room left for argument. To say that the group became tense after being spotted once would have been a gross understatement. They were wound as tight as tops by the time they reached the last row of houses, these being only a slight improvement over the houses they first passed. They slipped into an alley and hunched down, having a quiet exchange.

 

“Getting through that door won’t be hard, but we need a way to flush them into the courtyard.” Kiev said softly.

 

Mathieu marked out a quick sketch in the dirt. “This place is set in two levels, with alarms here, here, and here,” he marked them quickly, “so I’m thinking that if we can get someone up and over the roof, they can pull the alarm. That should funnel them into the courtyard, and then we can bust in both doors and take them. We’ll need to circle around, as well.” The others nodded at his plan, “this will be the break down. We send Kiev over the roof so that she’ll be on the second floor and out of the fight, but still able to help. Erik, Enak and I will go around and take the other door.” His eyes flicked between Jo, Lione, and Solomon. “You boys can handle this door, right?”

 

“Yeah.”
Solomon said, eyes examining the little sketch.

 

“Okay. Give us three minutes to get to the other side, then boost Kiev over.”

 

“How?”
It was Lione this time.

 

Solomon rolled his eyes, “You can move the air around
her, right? So just lift her up. Once you get her on top, I’m sure she can take it from there.”

 

“Damn straight.” Kiev said, punching her hand.

 

Using the toe of his boot, Mathieu wiped the little drawing away and motioned for his father and Enak to follow him. Silently, the trio moved passed the last house and sprinted across the unprotected gap to stand flush against the stone wall. After a count of five to ensure that no one had been alerted to them, he nodded to his left and started around the building. They did their best to hug the wall, but occasionally had to step out around the water barrels. No matter, though, because they made it around and took up their position with a few seconds to spare.

 

Using the spare time, he reached out to Nikola and Tesla with his mind,
Hey, you two.
In position?

 

Yep!
Nikola’s sweet voice responded, followed by an affirmative grunt from Tesla.

 

I really hate this Banin guy. He thinks he’s in charge, but Ayame keeps telling him to shut it.
Tesla snickered,
where are you in terms of attacking?

 

At that moment, a siren’s piercing screech broke the still silence of the morning.
That’s us.
Got to go.

 

Affirmative!
Both voice said.

 

A well of energy that wasn’t Mathieu’s formed invisibly before the trio. It sucked the air in like a vacuum, making Mathieu hold his breath in the moment before the door burst into the courtyard, tearing chunks of the wall out with it. “Go!” Enak yelled over the siren, “I’ve got this
doorway!” Mathieu was compelled to believe him, considering he had just blown the door off of the hinges.

 

Without hesitation, Mathieu drew his sword and ran through the opening and under the walkway of the second floor. The courtyard had two concrete paths laid diagonally across it in an ‘X’, the rest of it lush, green grass. Men of varying sizes were pouring into the open area, guns in their hands, pajamas covering them. The first splatter of red to paint the green sea was at Kiev’s hand, her circular blades plunging deep into the exposed throat of a soldier from her vantage point.

 

Mathieu did a quick survey of the area. His eyes fell on a man fumbling with the safety on his gun, body shaking with fear. A feral grin spread across his face as he focused his energy, bouncing it between the blades of his sword and bore down on the man. It took less time than he’d have thought possible for the man to fall to the ground, dead, body twitching with his residual energy. He didn’t have time to consider the
dead,
however, ducking his head as the butt of a gun came his way.

 

Blood splattered across the side of his face as a head rolled into view. Turning slightly, he saw Jo on the dead man’s back, a blood-soaked knife in his hand.
“Hiya!
So I figure they aren’t shooting because of the close quarters, yeah?” The teenager let go of the body as its knees gave out and dropped to the floor before Jo spun on his heel, using the momentum to drive the entire length of his blade into the chest of the soldier bearing down on him. “I was talking, you big meanie.” Jo wrenched his knife back from the corpse. “This is fun!” He giggled and danced off to slay another path through the crowd as Vincent tagged onto Jo’s side, running with him.

 

“What a little freak,” Erik voiced as the alarm finally stopped, ensnaring two in his energy, their bodies ballooning out as he pumped them full of his power; neither got back up after they hit the ground.

 

He and Erik were fighting a few feet apart, back to back in a sense. The space between them was a no-man’s land as it was within the reach of both Mathieu’s blade, and Erik’s energy. As a man that looked more bear than human barreled at them with his gun lifted like a bat, Mathieu got a decent view under his arm of Solomon and Jo working together and literally tearing a man apart. It made him laugh for some sick and twisted reason, making his kill of the bear-man almost like the background to their theatrical production. The blade of his sword was soaked with blood now, and as he took a moment to wipe it on the man’s shirt, Kiev dropped from where she had been on the second floor. Her string gave her quite an advantage over the soldiers.

 

Whirling her blades in wide arcs, she sent those around her to their death to give herself room to work. Deft fingers hooked her circular blades to the latch on her hip, then her hands began to weave a delicate pattern through the air, her puppeteer strings aimed at the man closest to her. He twitched for a few moments as she strung him up, making him dance on her whim.

 

Mathieu stayed crouched where he was as her face transformed into a gleeful expression, using her new toy to attack his comrades. Most of the men who the man approached were slain. The other soldiers had refused to fight him, despite his screams for them to kill him.

 

It dawned on Matheiu that for the most part, there had been no whizzing of bullets. He knew that they were
most likely trying not to shoot each other, but with as quickly as their numbers were dwindling, it wouldn’t really matter if they shot each other. Standing, his eyes quickly flicked to the others: Kiev was making more men dance; Solomon and Jo twined together and apart like well trained snakes; Lione was watching the doorway not guarded by Enak, and proving how deadly of an opponent he was; Vincent sank his teeth into anyone who got too close. Then his gaze fell to Enak, sitting on the ground with his face contorted in concentration. Narrowing his gaze, he followed the boy god’s gaze to a man’s gun. The tip was glowing slightly. Then he realized that Enak was holding the bullets in the gun.
In
all
of the guns.

 

Mathieu gave a slight whoop and dove back into the thick of it with renewed joy. Where he had originally been playing it safe by keeping his energy at the surface to protect him at all times, he let it flow outward and onto the offensive. His kill count doubled. Over the course of his life, Mathieu had been in a fair few fights. Normal they were fast, primitive and ugly. But today it was like going through the motions on extra slow. Even though the Unithians had a severely higher number of fighters, it was a massacre. They weren’t ready for the ferocity that Mathieu’s unit brought, nor its superior skills, courtesy of Solomon’s intensive training and Mathieu’s helping book.

 

Less than two hours after the fight had started, Lione was slicing up the last soldier with his air scythes. The unit looked around at each other in victory, silently checking each other for injuries. Kiev had a cut on her upper arm, which Mathieu healed, and Enak needed a short rest. The boy god had used quite a bit of energy to keep the group safe from bullets. The unit stocked up on water and ate a light brunch from the kitchen of the compound.

 

Mathieu stood at the hole Enak had torn in the wall, looking down at the town around them. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and the mixed scent of blood and Solomon filled his nose. They had all washed up as best they could in the water barrels, but none of them were exactly clean after the bloodbath.

 

“You fought well, Matt.” Solomon kissed the top of his head.

 

He leaned back, smiling. “Thanks. Enak was the game changer, though. He held the bullets back.”

 

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