Read Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion Online

Authors: Edward Crichton

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Alternate History, #Military, #Space Fleet, #Alternative History, #Time Travel

Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion (32 page)

BOOK: Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion
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But then the
third feeling crept in: pain, and with it came something else.

Like a stopper released from a drain, a swell of negativity and darkness flowed into my body from some unknown source.  It was as if every negative thought
and memory to ever cross my mind suddenly invaded my consciousness all at one moment, and all the pressure and responsibility I’d accumulated over the years whispered to me, coercing me to do something about it, clouding my better judgment.

I squeezed my eyes shut
to push out the thoughts, but a blue light seemed to shine through my eyelids, and I no longer wished to push the darkness away.  With the light returned my anger, which fueled my body’s ability to channel the pain I felt in my jaw to revitalize me, and with a quick blink of my eyes, I felt powerful again.

Punching the earth beside my head
with both of my fists, I pushed upwards and got to my knees.  I shook my head to fully abolish the cobwebs in my mind from Helena’s assault and prepared to stand, but before I could, an ominous red glare bathed my tent in a sea of color, followed moments later by the deafening sound of an explosion.

There was a
massive cry of fear, but no cries of pain, and in a surge of awareness, I knew the battle was already over.  I gritted my teeth and stood, straightening the warm jacket I wore.  I put my mask of leadership back on my face and steeled myself, and walked briskly toward the exit, ready to confront the inevitable, unaware that deep within me something was stirring.

Something
glorious.

 

***

 

I emerged from my
praetorium
calmly for the second time tonight.  Whatever anger that had consumed me a minute ago was contained now, sequestered away like a massive bubble in my chest that was ready to burst.  I felt immense pressure there now, pressing tightly against my lungs and heart, a sensation that made it difficult to think without the interference of my emotions, but I let it simmer for now, no longer needing that anger to drive me.

Around
me, the collective calmness from the legionnaires had dissipated, replaced instead with shouts of good cheer at their bloodless victory.  I smiled as well as I strolled toward them, my hands clasped behind my back.  It would have been more beneficial to our cause had these interlopers been dealt with more permanently, but a victory was a victory.

Many legionnaires stood around
our perimeter throwing taunts and jeers at the retreating enemy, but those nearest to the center of the camp had Santino hefted in the air, tossing him up and down in jubilation.  Santino in turn was of course eating it up, whooping and hollering in celebration along with the Romans, waving his arms like a bird, enticing them to throw him higher and higher.

Vincent
and Archer stood aloof from the show, but Wang, Bordeaux, Gaius, Marcus, Stryker, and Brewster laughed and clapped as Santino slipped through the grips of those who’d launched him into the air and landed hard on the ground with a thump.  He looked up at them angrily, but they didn’t even seem to notice as they picked him back up and continued their fun.

I watched them as I
slipped in between Vincent and Archer, who like any good commanders, stood aside, choosing instead to participate silently and distantly.  Both men parted to allow me access between them, but both seemed to add excessive distance between us as well.  I ignored them as I noticed Helena standing away from the frivolity as well with Cuyler nearby.  He watched Santino rise and fall with his usual expressionless neutrality, but I couldn’t help but notice how close the two stood near each other.  They weren’t quite touching, but it was clear that Helena had sought someone for comfort after what had just occurred between us.

I managed to quarantine the jealousy I felt at the
sight of them into my chest along with my anger, putting it there for later use.

I turned to Vincent, jutting my chin out
toward Santino as well.  “What’d he do?”

“He and Helena enacted Operation…” he paused and rolled his eyes
, “…Operation: Dissuade the Shit out of Them.  Protocol alpha.”

I nodded.  Santino and I had come up with the name during our time on the Mediterranean.

During better times.

The operation was meant to do just as it said: spook the natives by launching an eerie red flare into the sky, followed by sending up a small bit of C-4 to explode and truly scare the shit out of them.  Santino had retrofitted a basic Roman sling t
o accept the small brick of C-4, but it was a two person operation, with one person launching the flare, followed by the second person slinging the C-4 into the air, and completed by the first person remotely detonating it from a safe distance.  It was a dangerous operation and required precise timing to make sure the C-4 wasn’t detonated too early or too late, but it had obviously worked just as we’d hoped.

“Helena didn’t wait around for the legionnaire
s to notice who’d enacted the operation,” Vincent explained, although his voice had no humor in it, “but Santino… well, you know how he is.”

“Of course
I do,” I replied.  “Think it’ll work again?”


Perhaps once more on the same group,” he answered.  “Easily again on a different group, but also one I would prefer to try every time we encounter an enemy until it fails to be effective.”

I eyed him
angrily.  “You know the reason I didn’t want to use this tactic immediately was because I didn’t want to give it away so early in our journey, right?”

“As you say
,” he said, his tone unchanged.

“Like Minicius said,” I
argued, “the barbarians would have broken off after a single
pila
volley.  It would have been the natural course of such an engagement, even without our presence.”

Finally, Vincent turned, the smaller man having to look up just a bit to meet my eye.  “Is that why you needlessly retrieved your rifle and set up atop the
LP/OP?”

I recoiled at the insinuation. 
“I can’t help but notice you have your pistol as well, Vincent,” I countered harshly.  “These barbarians are tough, and may have broken through our lines.  If not for me being up there, the barbarians could have…”

“In all the time I have known you,” Vincent interrup
ted, his remaining hand held up in a silencing gesture, “I have never, not
once
, heard you use the word ‘barbarian’ to reference those we encounter, even
without
the modern, negative connotation, yet I wonder why it is so readily on the tip of your tongue now…”  He leaned in closer to me for a few last words before leaving.  “Have you forgotten, Hunter, that you, too, cannot speak Greek?”

Vincent turned and left
, and I scoffed at his retort, turning to Archer to make an off handed comment at Vincent’s expense, but my old SEAL buddy had escaped as well, leaving me alone.  I glanced around, wondering where everyone had gone, realizing that not only was I alone, but I was
really
alone.  There was no one around me in any direction, not at any conversational distance anyway.

I looked up, noticing
that Bordeaux and Stryker had contributed their considerable strength to the Santino-tossing effort, and wondered if they were still throwing him out of happiness for his efforts, or if they were simply testing how far he could fall before he got hurt.

I
decided to seek out Helena, but while Cuyler remained, a smile on his face now at the Santino-antics, Helena was gone.  I swiveled my head around and searched for her, but she was nowhere to be found.  My first thought was that she’d retreated back to my
praetorium
to rest after the night’s exertions, but when I turned to walk toward it, I had to pull up short so that I didn’t knock Artie over, who had been standing just behind me unexpectedly, her arms crossed.

“Artie,” I said
.  “Sorry.  Didn’t see you there.  Glad to see you’re okay though.  Where’ve you been these days?”

She
offered me a sneer of a smile, one completely without humor.  “I’m happy you’re so concerned for my wellbeing, Jacob.”

I looked at her curiously.  “
I
was
concerned.”

“I know
you were.”

“Is there a problem, Diana?”

“I don’t know.  Is there?”

“Are we going to do this all night?”  I asked
, growing annoyed at her silliness.  “Because I really don’t have time for it.”

“No, I’m done,” she answered.
  “Don’t worry.”

“Good,” I sai
d as I maneuvered around her to approach my
praetorium.

“You’re luck
y,” Artie called from behind me just before I could enter.

I stopped and twisted at the waist to look at her.  “Lucky for what?”

“That you have an
image
of leadership to maintain.”

I spun all the way around so that I faced her
.  “And why’s that?”

She took a defiant
few steps forward and poked a finger into my chest.  “Because you’d be sleeping in the latrines tonight if not for the fact that those impressionable toy soldiers out there expect you to be their leader, and you are therefore given the privilege of sleeping in
that
tent.”

I pushed new anger into my chest
so that I kept myself from striking her. “Enough with the riddles, Diana!  Get to the point.”

“Stay away from her, Jacob,” Artie said in a tone I’d never heard from her before.  “I’m warning you.
  Stay.  Away.”

She started to walk away, but I took a step forward and reached for her arm.  “Stay away from
who…”

But before I could finish
, she whirled around and threw both hands into my chest, pushing me backward.  I stumbled but kept my footing, but the tears in her eyes now only made me feel worse, making it impossible for me to draw on the anger in my chest to direct against her.

“Stay away from
us
, Jacob,” she said threateningly with a finger pointed in my direction, tears dripping from her chin.  “You say Archer doesn’t know who you are but the fact is that
nobody
knows who you are anymore!”

She sniffed,
spun away, and ran toward her tent.  I let her go without another word, watching as she found the small tent she’d occupied by herself these past few months.  Nothing else and no one else came to my attention as I stared unblinkingly in her direction, so when it became painfully obvious that I was alone again, I glanced back at my friends, thinking that perhaps they would come join me for some wine in celebration of our victory, but they weren’t anywhere to be found either.

I frowned as I pushed down my
feeling of loneliness to join the anger and jealousy that already occupied the emotional storage unit I’d constructed within my ribcage.  As it joined together with the others, the pressure in my chest only increased, and I staggered a bit as I walked back to my
praetorium
, the pressure I felt there a distracting but familiar sensation.  It was a combination of many I felt quite often, as I imagined everyone else in the universe did as well, but never had I felt it as intensely as I did now.

It
was a nervous feeling, like the budding kind I would experience back in high school as waited for the results of a test I’d forgotten to study for. 

It
pressed against my ribcage like the eternal dread of a first date, a feeling that grew and grew as the date wore on in anticipation of a first kiss. 

It hit suddenly
deep inside me like when the expectation for bad news was confirmed, like when I’d returned a call from Artie all those years ago, learning that not only had I been unaware of my mother’s passing while in the field, but that I had also missed her funeral.

It also l
eft my heart feeling just as empty as it did when a beloved character was unexpectedly killed from a favorite TV show, never to return again and for reasons not quite clear.

What I felt now were
pieces of each of these moments and so many more, acting as a degenerative sickness that slowly abated my soul, all rolled up into one massive bout of emotion that threatened to burst through my upper body like a grenade lodged between my lungs.  I doubled over at its intensity and fell into my tent, knowing that Helena would notice my discomfort and come to my aid, ready and willing to soothe away every ache and pain like she always did.

But when I collapsed to the
ground, no help came.

The test did not magically have a B- on it.

The date did not end with a kiss, not even on the cheek.

The phone call di
d not end with shared tears that allowed my sister and me to console each other.

The TV show did not bring that character back from the dead, even in a dream sequence.

BOOK: Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion
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