CHAPTER FIVE
Of Fasies and Rexals
“This way!”
Kjeld slowed as he heard Adrijana call out. “We have to get out of here, Adrijana.”
“I know. This way. Come on!”
He followed her into a side room and stopped. On the walls were dozens and dozens of see-through canisters and containers. Huge tanks spread out across the floor and tiny vials filled cabinet after cabinet. He looked at some of the closest tanks and saw a thicket of curious plants. Wild and unusual, they grew in a hundred shades and in soil of similarly brash colors.
“What is this place?” he asked.
“We don’t have time.” Adrijana approached yet another side door and lowered her head to the retinal scanner. The scanner beeped and the door slid open. Wind whip through and struck at Kjeld's heavy clothes as Adrijana stepped out into the darkness of the night. Kjeld swore softly and followed.
“Where are we?” He asked when he finally caught up with her.
“We’re at a kulit development farm. Come on, there’s a way out on the other side of this field.” Adrijana’s sentence was punctuated by the sound of gunfire as beams flashed at the earth beside them.
“Go!” Kjeld roared, pushing Adrijana forward.
They ran through the field, the tall crops hiding them from the pursuing Vruhr, but whipping at their bodies. Kjeld heard movement not far behind them and turned to fire his pistol blindly into the kulit. The sound of pursuit stopped temporarily, and they continued to run. The night was heavy and dark whilst the plants prevented him from seeing any of his surroundings. He followed Adrijana through the growth, ears strained, listening for any sound that might be the difference between life and death. The edge of the field rushed upon them just as Kjeld saw Adrijana trip and fall. He heard her curse as she fell and a pursuing Vruhr fired another burst in their direction.
“Get up!” he shouted, grabbing at her hand. He pulled and she staggered to her feet. They ran. He could see the door Adrijana had been directing them towards and he sped up, silently urging her to keep up. As they grew nearer, he heard the pursuers closing behind them. He swung Adrijana forward and turned, dropping to his knee and firing bolt after bolt from his pistol. He swore as the weapon’s power pack flashed up a low ammo warning.
“Adrijana!” He urged. Behind him, he could hear her hammering at buttons on the door’s scanner.
“Got it!” she exclaimed.
He rose to his feet and let off his last few rounds before turning for the door. Adrijana step inside just as the Vruhr bolt hit her.
“Adrijana!” Kjeld ran in after her, dragging her away from the door and slamming the lock button on the wall. The door quickly closed and the sounds of laser fire quietened. Adrijana groaned and looked down at her leg. The bolt had struck the calf, singing the flesh around it. It smelled sickly, as if tainted meat had been roasted on a fire. “Can you walk?” Kjeld asked, lifting the goggles from his face and narrowing his eyes to better examine the wound.
She shook her head, gritting her teeth. “It’s hit the muscle. I need…medkit.” Kjeld watched Adrijana paling as she spoke.
“Pasht! Pasht, Pasht, Pasht!” Kjeld cursed.
Adrijana smiled weakly. “You always did… have a way…. with words.”
Kjeld threw back his hood, removing his coat and offering it to Adrijana. “Wrap this around you. Elevate that wound and keep yourself warm. Where can I find a medkit?”
“This is a laboratory, Kjeld. There are medkits everywhere. Check that cupboard.” She gestured with her chin, one hand holding the coat close to her, the other gripping her thigh and keeping her injured leg in the air.
Kjeld pulled open the cupboard and grabbed the medkit inside. Taking a small pair of scissors, he returned to Adrijana.
“I need to cut open your trousers.”
She stared at him but said nothing.
He crouched down and set to work cutting away the burned material until he had cleared the area around the wound. Reaching into the medkit he pulled out a spray and applied it to the wound. Immediately Adrijana’s eyes cleared as the pain subsided.
“Shit, that’s good.” She sighed, then jumped as a loud banging sounded on the door.
“Ignore it,” Kjeld advised, looking around the room at the plated walls and the thick metal doors. “It looks like this room was purposefully designed to survive an explosion.” He stared at her, and she looked away. The unspoken question of what the scientists had been working on hung between them.
The silence lingered a moment longer before Kjeld grunted. “Give me your leg.”
It was bad. The spray had created a healing residue, but still, the wound was blackened and raw, whilst the skin around it had blistered and peeled away. Removing a regen-gauze, he carefully applied it to the wound. Immediately it set to work cauterizing the burned skin before aiding the rejuvenation of dead flesh. But Kjeld knew a wound as serious as Adrijana’s would take some time to heal properly.
The banging outside began to grow louder and louder. Kjeld leaped forward as Adrijana attempted to push herself to her feet.
“You need to rest,” he hissed.
She shook her head stubbornly. “Without the pain, I can walk.” Kjeld sighed and thrust out an arm as Adrijana pushed herself to her feet, gingerly testing her damaged leg.
“The pain may be gone but the damage is still there, Adrijana. You can’t put weight on that leg, you’ll risk worsening the wound before the gauze has healed it,” he warned.
“So, find me something to use as a crutch.” Her stubbornness was punctuated by the ringing of laser fire against the door.
Kjeld scanned the room, but there was nothing. He kicked out at the empty medkit, “Forget it!” He shouted in frustration. “That door may hold but that doesn’t mean they can’t find a way around! Give me your arm.”
He saw her hesitate, but the sound from outside quickly made up her mind. “Fine.”
With her arm wrapped around his shoulder and the bulk of her weight leaning onto Kjeld, the two made their way into the corridor.
“Which way?” Kjeld asked.
“Left then left again. After that take the first right.”
Kjeld followed her directions, ears strained for any sound of danger. As they reached the final door, they stepped outside once more. Outside the fresh night air was strangely silent and Kjeld looked around, trying to find his bearings.
“We have to go east.” Adrijana’s words interrupted his thoughts.
“No. The Vruhr are east. We should go west, out of the containment barrier. Out of the valley.”
“Either we go east, or I go east, Kjeld.” Adrijana’s voice was cold, determined.
“Damn you, Adrijana. If we go east, we die. There is nothing there, the town is gone.” He tried one last attempt, voice heavy with resignation.
She turned away from him, squinting through the darkness. Kjeld followed her gaze, saw the towers standing defiantly in the distance.
“Not all of the town. The academy still stands. My children are there.” There was fear in her voice. A terror that undercut the firmness with which she spoke.
Somewhere in the distance, Kjeld heard the frightened shouts of humans. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes once more, zoomed in on the destruction that lay everywhere and the great ship that still claimed the sky. He had seen earlier the thousands of Vruhr swarming through Vermasse and knew they would still be out there hunting in the dark.
“Okay,” he agreed. “We go to the academy.”
Xavier groaned and opened his eyes to a world of dust. It hovered in the air and covered the debris that lay all around. With a great deal of effort, he rolled himself over. Everything ached and he could feel a host of small cuts and painful swellings that now covered his body. An uncomfortable, almost suffocating heat lingered in the air making it difficult to breathe. Forcing himself upright, he propped himself against a wall. The broken lenses of his goggles stabbed at his face and he took them off, tossing them away into the dark. Doing his best to ignore the complaints from his bruised chest, he took a deep breath and almost gagged as the sickly smell of singed flesh hit him.
The smell brought back images of Paavo, the soldier’s body falling to the floor in a spray of crimson. He pictured a Vruhr towering over him, and then noise. So much noise. Xavier closed his eyes and tried to calm himself as he fought to relive the events, to apply pictures to the noises that still erupted in his head. A lot of yelling. Then a fight, before a deafening explosion turned everything into pain and chaos. Recollection brought with it a new fear and Xavier spun around, searching in the gloom for any sign of human or Vruhr.
But silence surrounded him. Crawling onto his hands and knees, he dug through the rubble for Alau’s pistol, but after some minutes and with a cry of frustration, he gave up. Paavo dead, the others gone, his weapon missing. Xavier’s situation was almost ridiculously tragic, and he felt a manic laugh building inside of him. He would have let it out too if it were not the outright terror that wrapped invisible hands around his throat.
Suddenly a piece of rubble beneath his feet moved and he screamed. Hands scrambling he pulled himself over the debris, desperate to get away from whatever new horror threatened below.
“Get off me, you damned idiot!” a voice growled before Ladislav erupted from a pile of floor panels like an angry giant.
The soldier pulled himself to his feet, towering over Xavier. He looked around, peering into the gloom before checking his guns. Finally, his helmeted face fell on Xavier. “Pasht Xav, you look like a fasie seeing a rexal. Maybe you think Vruhr eyesight is also based on movement? It’s not." Ladislav chuckled, but Xavier stared back uncomprehendingly.
“What’s a fasie and a rexal?” he muttered eventually.
“Animals, Xav. One is a fierce predator, the other its stupid prey. Guess which one you are?”
Xavier gave no response and Ladislav sighed.
“I’m saying you’re an idiot, Xav. Sat there frozen like a statue only your bottom lip moving. Were you really in the military academy?” He shook his head, then before Xavier could respond, “take this.” As he spoke, Ladislav threw a blaster at Xavier, who managed to miss the catch as the weapon fell at his feet. Despite his helmeted face, Xavier thought he could feel, more than see, Ladislav’s eye-roll.
“If danger comes, you fire. Need you to watch my back.” As Ladislav spoke, he pulled two more pistols from his leg armor. “Do you know where we are?”
Xavier, doing his best to calm his breathing which had been coming at him in quick, sharp bursts ever since Ladislav burst from the ground, looked around the room. His mind struggled to focus on anything, the shock and the fear still fresh. It was some moments before he realized Ladislav had spoken again and that he had no idea what the man had said. It was difficult, images of Alau’s still form wrestled with his thoughts. He saw again Paavo’s body fall to the floor, where it fell amongst the glassy eyes of his dead classmates. He pushed a thumb and finger into his eyes and shook his head. That last vision hadn’t been right, he knew. His mind was playing tricks and he had to focus. He tried to push the visions away but, always they threatened, leaping up out of his thoughts as soon as his guard fell.
Ladislav repeated his question for what Xavier thought was a third time, but now the commando’s voice was louder, edged with impatience. Xavier let out an ‘er’ of acknowledgment and looked around, doing his best to imagine how the area may look in the light. Finally, he decided it made sense that they would be on the facilities floor, directly below the training rooms. He told Ladislav as much.
“And your sister? Where would she be?”
“I don’t know,” Xavier whispered.
“Then think, little fasie. She knows the academy; is she a fighter? Will she be with friends? Who might she go to for help? Where would be safe?”
Xavier absorbed the questions and ran them through his mind. Nuria was younger than him, barely sixteen, and a scientist with no martial training. When the Vruhr attack struck, she would have looked for him. But he wasn’t there. Just like he hadn’t been there for Alau, or any of the others when they needed him. Guilt soared through him and he pushed a thumb to his mouth, chewing on the nail.
A large hand fell on his shoulder. “Calm, Xavier. Think. Your sister.”
Strangely, Ladislav’s own composure helped and Xavier focused on the questions once more, trying to build answers in his mind. She would have gone to his class, but not finding him she would have found— Bellec! Of course. Bellec was Xavier’s closest friend and one of the academy’s finest military students. He would have wanted to fight and to fight he would need weapons.
“Quickly, Xavier,” Ladislav’s voice interrupted his thoughts, this time with a hint of urgency.
“The combat simulation center. They would have gone there. It has weapons and it’s the easiest place to defend.” Xavier was surprised to hear an edge of determination in his voice, driving out the fear.
Ladislav nodded. “Makes sense. Good work.” His hand fell away from Xavier’s shoulder. “So, we go to the combat center. Lead the way.”
As they made slow progress through the darkened corridors, Xavier tried his best to look as if he carried the blaster with purpose. He had been shown the correct way of holding a blaster a thousand times previously, but now that it came to a real-life military situation, he felt foolish. A pretend soldier who jumped at every noise in the dark. Somewhere behind him was a real soldier, a man made for combat. A man that Xavier had dreamed of being, but now began to realize his dreams were merely that— great delusions. When he had played at being a warrior, he had never imagined the gut-wrenching fear that would come with it in a real-life situation, nor the constant feeling of hopelessness that had plagued him ever since he first saw the Vruhr attack.
They rounded another corner and Xavier stopped. The faint sound of blaster fire reached him.
“It’s coming from that way.” Xavier’s heart skipped a beat as Ladislav’s voice whispered behind him. Collecting himself, he followed Ladislav’s thumb and nodded.
“That’s where the military training center is.”
“Then some students still fight.”
Xavier merely nodded, doing his best to ignore what he felt was an unspoken accusation at his own cowardliness. “What do we do?”
“Do? We rescue your sister. Come.” This time Ladislav led the way and Xavier followed. As they grew closer to the military center, the blaster fire became louder and would occasionally be mixed with the shouts of human voices. The shadows of the corridors seemed to hide unseen enemies and Xavier could feel fear returning. He gripped his pistol tight with sweaty hands. As they stopped at a corner, Ladislav peered round before cursing.
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“What is it?” Xavier whispered.
“Not good. There are a lot. Too many, maybe. Is there another way into this training center?”
“No, there is only one way—wait! Yes! There is. The drone-docks.”
“The what?”
“Drone-docks. When we train, we shoot at drone targets. But when the drones aren’t being used, they retreat to a storage room below the simulator. There are a dozen different gaps in the floor that the drones emerge from. If you don’t know about them then you wouldn’t look for them. But I know about them and I know how to get to them.”
“Show me.”
Xavier lead the way, pleased to finally be able to offer some help. They came to a small storage door and Xavier pushed his hand against the scanner. It flashed red. He tried it again, but the scanner showed red once more.
“No. Pasht you!” Xavier cursed, striking out at the metal paneling that hid the door’s circuitry.
“Problem?” Ladislav whispered over his shoulder, his gaze locked on the corridor behind them.
“It’s locked,” Xavier replied, despair returning.
“Move.” Ladislav stepped to the door and put a large armored hand against the scanner. It flashed red once more, but then a soft glow of lights began to glimmer from the palm of Ladislav’s glove. Xavier watched on nervously, as time seemed to drag, each second punctuated by the sound of fighting. Eventually, the scanner glowed green and the door swung open. With a huge feeling of relief, Xavier followed Ladislav inside.
The room held row after row of small, round drones. There were dozens of them, powered down and sitting in the docking ports that lined the walls. A faint red glow, emanating from the docked drones, provided the only light in the room.
Xavier strolled past the drones and made for three large metal ramps, relieved to see that they were exactly as he remembered them. “Here! You see! These slope upwards—” he placed his hand on one of the ramps as he spoke “—and at the top are small holes you can climb through. They take you inside the simulation room. From there you can easily get to the armory.”
“Xav…”
“What? It’s easy. Come on, I’ll show you!” There was an eagerness in Xavier’s voice now, as he urged Ladislav to follow.
“You think I’m going to fit up there?” Ladislav replied quietly.
Xavier took in Ladislav’s towering stature and then looked back at the drone-tunnel that suddenly seemed awfully small. His eagerness quickly fell away.
“You have to go,” Ladislav continued, his voice resolute. “Bring your sister and any survivors back this way. I’ll wait. Oh—” he gestured behind him “—how do I activate these drones?”
Xavier showed him the drone control panel and as Ladislav activated it, a score of the small balls rose into the air.
“Nice,” grunted Ladislav.
Before Xavier could reply, Ladislav had disappeared back into the corridor, blending into the gloom with his target drones levitating through the air after him. Xavier couldn’t help but wonder what the commando intended, but he forced his attention onto his own task. Fumbling with the gun in his hand, he finally managed to stash it in one of his pockets, though the hilt was far too bulky and stuck out, jabbing him in the hip as he bent over.
Dropping into a crouch, he began to pull himself up one of the drone ramps with quick, jerking motions. The gun at his side clanked against the metal of the ramp and Xavier cursed it inwardly with each movement upwards, terrified that the Vruhr would hear it. He pushed on, too afraid to look back, instead aiming for the dull light that illuminated the top of the ramp. He felt his shoulder blades begin to itch as he pictured a Vruhr blade piercing them, his body falling to the floor, leaking blood much like Paavo’s had. He was almost surprised when he finally reached the top unharmed and he stopped before slowly pushing his head up through the drone tube. With a squint, he waited long seconds as his eyes finally adjusted to the new light.
Large crates and blocks were all around him, creating a makeshift scene that, on training days, would hide the drones and offer them some protection from the military recruits. But for now, they did a good job of hiding him. He pulled his body up through the tunnel, though every wound and bruise clawed at him, every aching muscle screamed at him to stop. He ignored the pain, reaching the top and collapsed, out of breath, onto the top of a crate. He lay for a few moments, his heart heavy in his chest, sweat soaking through his clothing, finding its way into every small cut on his body. He pushed a bead of it from his eyes, wincing as his finger brushed a small laceration below his eye. For a few moments, Xavier just lay there as his breath slowly returned to him, wondering what to do next.
The distant sound of a fresh wave of blaster fire forced him into action and to his feet and he leaped down the crates, landing on the training room floor with a clumsy roll. Rising, he cautiously crossed the shooting practice gallery. No windows lined the gallery, no hidden side doors hid an army of Vruhr waiting to ambush him. Yet sill Xavier’s skin prickled, the same spot between his shoulder blades feeling very vulnerable. With a feeling of relief, he reached the door to the large bunker that was the academy’s armory. He waited, pushing his ear to the wall and listening to the sounds within. Voices sounded on the other side, though muffled as they were it was hard to make out words.
He called out. Then called out once more, louder. The wait dragged on and unease crept back up his spine. When still nobody replied, Xavier banged a fist against the heavy metal door. It was met by a host of muted shouts and then silence.
He was about to bang again when the door swung over. Xavier stared down the barrel of a single rifle.
“Don’t shoot!” Xavier shouted, struggling to make himself heard over the barrage of fire from elsewhere in the room. “It’s me! Xavier Albion!”
Xavier waited, heart hammering in his ears when a familiar voice rung out. “Stop! Don’t shoot! Xavier, is it really you?”
The soldier pointing his gun at Xavier let his rifle fall away.
Xavier stepped inside his eyes widening as he saw Bellec standing tall and broad. Bellec strode forward, heavy eyebrows lifting in surprise, before he embraced Xavier, almost lifting him from his feet. “Xav! Pasht curse you, I thought you were dead! Where did you come from?”
Xavier returned the hug, his eyes scanning the room as he did so. There were more than a dozen people in the small room, most carrying guns, even more carrying wounds. Bellec, he saw, had a small cut on his cheek and a blood-soaked bandage covering a larger wound on his arm.
Xavier pushed his friend away as he spoke, careful to avoid the wounded arm. “The drone-tunnels. I came through the drone-tunnels.” He paused, fearing the answer his next question would receive. “Nuria…where is she?” As he spoke, he pushed further inside the room, letting his eyes fall over the few remaining humans. Their sunken eyes and poorly dressed wounds suggested they had been holed up in the small room for some time. As Xavier continued to scan the room, the metallic walls and heavy door suddenly seemed more like a coffin than a sanctuary.
“Is this all there is?” he whispered. Fortified storage cubicles lined the weapons room but even from his location, Xavier could see most were empty of people.
Bellec’s face was grim, but then a smile broke his lips. “Don’t worry, Xav. She’s here.” Bellec pointed to the back of the armory and gave him a light slap on the shoulder.
Bellec’s words filled Xavier with hope and he found himself running through the armory. “Nuria!” he shouted as he ran. As he reached the last and largest cubicle, he saw his sister’s blonde head rise from a huddled group of younger students.
“Xav?” Her voice was soft, disbelieving as he took another step forward. Then “Xavier!” This time she screamed the word and flung herself at her older brother. Xavier buried his face in her messy hair as she hugged him, elation at finding his sister almost overwhelming him. “Nuria,” he whispered, tears threatening. “Are you ok?”
He felt her head nod against his arm in response and then she pulled away. Large blue eyes over a freckled nose stared back at him. “Xav...I was so worried.” Her voice quivered as he spoke. “Why is this happening to us?”
The fear in her voice cut through his short-lived joy and he struggled for the right words. “I don’t know, Nuria. But we’re going to get out of it. I promise you.”
She opened her mouth and made to speak once more, but whatever she wanted to say was lost to the sound of rifle fire. Bellec and the two large men holding the doorway fell back as a Vruhr tried to push itself inside. Bellec shot it clean through the head and it collapsed into the corridor. The small human trio pushed back into the doorway and launched a hail of return fire. At the sight of the alien, Nuria cried out and Xavier pulled her towards him, gripping her hand tight as he did so.
“We’re going to get out of this.” He told her with a confidence he did not feel. He squeezed her hand again, as much for his own comfort as her own.
He could see now that a few human bodies had already been laid out in a separate cubicle, though someone had taken the time to cover their faces with Union coats. The Vruhr Bellec had shot still lay on just visible, inky blood oozing from its wound. The remaining humans, teenagers mostly, had scrambled to the far end of their small chamber, desperate to get away from the alien carcass. Some of the teens sobbed openly, but most just stared into space, wild-eyed and silent.
“Bellec, we have to get out of here!” He shouted above the weapon’s fire, clasping his sister’s hand as they moved back through the armory. The fighting fell away momentarily and Bellec swung to face him. At some point the cut in his face had opened further, letting fresh blood trickle down his face. Brown hair, usually combed so methodically, was now matted to his head with sweat. “We can use the same tunnels I came up through.” Xavier continued, the urgency in which he spoke causing the words to fall over each other.
“We can’t all go, Xav,” Bellec replied, his voice heavy. “We have wounded.” He gestured and Xavier saw two men and a girl lying in the corner of the room. The men both had wounds to the right side of their bodies, the skin hung red and torn as if rendered by dozens of pieces of tiny shrapnel. The girl, however, was much worse. One arm was missing at the shoulder and her left leg seemed to be more bandage than anything else. All three of them were lost in the mercy of an anesthesia-induced seep.
“We can carry them,” Xavier said in desperation, though he knew as soon as he spoke that it would never work. They’d never be able to outrun the Vruhr with three wounded.
A large man pushed himself away from the door and Xavier recognized him as Aldo, one of his own military instructors. “Xavier.” The instructor acknowledged. “Take those who can walk and get them out of here.”
“But—”
“I am not debating you, cadet.” The man’s shaven head wrinkled into a familiar frown. “You get these people out of here.”
Xavier swallowed, determined to make one last argument. A tug at his shirt from Nuria and the steely look in Bellec’s eyes changed his mind. “Yes, sir.” His head fell, guilt tearing at him. It felt like someone had lodged a large stone in Xavier’s stomach and for a moment he found it difficult to swallow.
The big instructor turned, and Xavier noticed the limp he carried, the trail of small blood droplets splashing from the leg of his uniform. Part of Xavier, a large part, wished he could find the courage to refuse the order and stand and fight with the rest. But another part felt relief that he had been offered a way out. It was for that last part that he hated himself. His sister’s hand still gripping his own and the terror in her eyes meant it was a hate he would have to live with. “Nuria!” He turned to his sister, hands gripping her shoulders. “We’re going to get out of here. Okay?”
She nodded, though Xavier could make out the line of water building on the bottom of her eyelids. “Good. I need you to round up those who can walk and take them into the training room. I’ll be right behind you.”
Wiping away the building tears with a sleeve, Nuria set her jaw and nodded slightly. Xavier gave her a weak smile before she ran off to the storage cubicle where she had previously sheltered and began to speak to the students who still huddled there. Satisfied his sister had momentarily put aside her terror, Xavier spun back to Bellec who still manned the doorway, determined to try one last time to save his friend’s life. “Bel, we have to go. Please!”
As he spoke, Xavier saw in Bellec something that he himself was not. Bellec was a soldier. A hero. Handsome, tall, broad-shouldered and possessing an unwavering belief in himself. He recalled the coolness with which his friend had dispatched the Vruhr moments earlier, and his heart sank as he knew what would come next.
“Not for me Xav. I’ll be here,” his friend spoke, without turning to face him.
“Bellec…”
Bellec finally turned “I’ve got this, Xav. You get out of here and take that annoying sis of yours with you.” He gave a weak smile and Xavier knew then that it would likely be the last time he saw his friend. He suspected Bellec knew it too. For the fifteen years, he and Bellec had known each other, Xavier had never known his friend to back down once his mind was made up.
He was about to argue more, but instead, he merely whispered back in a low voice, “Give them hell, Bel.” And, having seen his friend break numerous academy military records, Xavier had no doubt the Vruhr would soon learn why his friend had been given the ‘Hell Bel’ moniker. With a quick backward glance, he set off for the training room, heart heavy with the hope that his friend would call out his name at the last minute, come running to join him. He stepped through the door alone. Nuria and some eight very scared looking students waited on the other side.
“Is this everybody?” His eyes raked the group. They were all Nuria’s age or younger, Xavier saw to his dismay.
Nuria nodded.
He wondered if he should say something to them. A short speech to reassure or calm their nerves, but he could not think of any words that would wake them from the shock. Instead, he settled for a simple, “Okay. Let’s go.” He led them quickly back through the training room and down through the drone-tunnels, hoping they would all find the courage to follow. As he reached the bottom, he turned and waited for the remaining students to slide down the ramps one by one, urging them all to hurry as he did so. Nuria was the last to reach the bottom and as she rose back to her feet, she let out a scream. Xavier turned, just as Ladislav crept out of the dark.
“Nuria!” By now the other students had also begun to scream, some looking frantically around the room whilst others cowered. “Nuria! He’s a friend!” Xavier did his best to quickly reassure them before their cries could reach the Vruhr. “Please! He’s a friend. He’s here to help.”
Eventually, the students began to calm down and a small boy with a mop of ginger hair took a hesitant step forward “Is he a hero?” the boy whispered.
Ladislav bent a knee and went down on one leg in front of the child. “That I am. A hero who kills Vruhr!” As Ladislav spoke, the lights of his helmet flickered on in a burst of different colors. The boy squealed and ran back to shelter behind an older child. It brought nervous chuckles from one or two of the students and Xavier felt some of the tension in the room lift.
Ladislav rose back to his full height and ran a helmeted head over the group before speaking, his voice that usual rumbling attempt at a whisper. “I was expecting military recruits. We can’t take eight unarmed students.”
“We can’t leave eight unarmed students either,” Xavier fired back.
The big soldier considered this for a moment. “How many of you can fire a weapon?”
Two older boys raised their hands, along with Nuria.
“No, you can’t, Nuria,” Xavier hissed.
“Dad taught me!” she argued.
“Enough.” Ladislav cautioned angrily. “Xavier, tell me you brought them some weapons from that fancy Union armory.”
Xavier didn’t speak and was about to curse himself for a fool when Ladislav did it for him “Like a fasie cornered by a rexal, Xav. Useless,” he muttered despairingly. “You and you.” He pointed to the two boys at the front and tossed them weapons. Xavier couldn’t help but wonder where Ladislav was storing all those guns. The big man seemingly had more weapons than the entire Vermatian garrison.
“As for the rest of you,” Ladislav continued, “you pick up weapons when you find them. If you don’t know how to use them— learn. Quickly. And do not fall behind.”
As they left the drone room, Xavier couldn’t help but continuously glance at his sister, worried for her and all she had seen. But there was another fear that clawed at him— the fear that she might ask about their parents, about Bellec. They were the source of his own anguish and he had no desire to put his own concerns onto Nuria. As it was, she never asked. Instead, her eyes stayed glued to Ladislav’s broad back as their small group continued on in a leaden silence.
A cold shiver of apprehension was beginning to crawl up Xavier’s back as the motley group pressed on. Every sound, every distant ring of blaster fire had them all jumping. Each step brought them a little closer to panic. Xavier could feel it in himself and the young students behind him. He saw the terror written across Nuria’s face, felt it in every squeeze she gave his hand. He tried to keep her close, to reassure her. His thoughts turned to his parents momentarily. He gave a silent prayer for their safety, and for that of Bellec who even now may be lying dead at the hands of the Vruhr. Suppressing a shudder, he forced his attention to the man leading them.
So far, Ladislav and his seemingly supernatural ability to avoid the Vruhr had guided them without incident, but now something was wrong. Maybe it was the way Ladislav was carrying himself— Xavier was sure he could see some tension in the soldier’s broad shoulders. For Xavier, Ladislav being worried was almost as terrifying as the knowledge that the Vruhr were out there. It was easy to see the giant soldier as an invincible force. Twice they had stumbled upon lone Vruhr, and twice Ladislav had disposed of them silently, calmly. Now, though, Ladislav was concerned. Xavier didn’t know how he knew, but he knew. And he suspected the others did too as the students began to huddle themselves closer together.
Xavier noticed they were slowing, too. Gone was the urgency in Ladislav’s movements, now it had been replaced by caution.
Eventually, Ladislav stopped altogether. He turned to Xavier. “We have a problem,” warned Ladislav, his voice low.
Xavier felt his panic rise faster now and he gave a quick glance to his sister who was looking around them frantically.
Ladislav pointed and Xavier followed the finger to their left most corridor. For a moment he saw nothing, then the briefest movement caught his eye. Had he imagined it? He stared harder.
“Vruhr,” Ladislav confirmed in a grunt.
“So, we go right,” Xavier whispered hopefully.
“No good there either. More Vruhr.”
Xavier could make out nothing in the dark that filled the corridor to their right, but he had no doubt Ladislav spoke the truth. The hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise and fear settled in the pit of his stomach. His earlier words came back to him. We’re going to get through this, Nuria. He tried to steel himself, weighing the gun in his hand. If he had to, he would stand and die to protect his sister. He tried to imagine himself the hero, but the dark corridor and the feeling of death in the air made it difficult to feel anything but afraid.
“We can make a run for it,” Xavier argued. Glancing behind him, at the dark shape of eight students illuminated only by a distant glow-globe. One of the few that had not been destroyed by the Vruhr. He knew with an anguished certainty that the younger and smaller ones would not make it far before the Vruhr were upon them.
“Yes, you can, Xav. You can make a run for it.” There was a sober note to Ladislav’s voice that Xavier had never heard from him before. The big man weighed up the guns in his hand. “Tell them to run.”
“No.” Xavier knew what was coming and his pleas were edged with desperation. “You’re coming with us. Please, Ladislav!”
A scream from Nuria and Xavier spun as the first of the Vruhr come into sight, dark, silent and menacing. Ladislav raised his gun, his voice bellowing. “You run. You run now!” He fired the first shot, then another. “RUN!”
Footsteps pounded down the halls, growing louder and faster.
They ran. Xavier grabbed Nuria’s hand and together they made for the northern corridor. Rifle fire sounded behind them and above it all, he could still hear Ladislav’s voice “Run!”
He had no idea if the other students were behind him, he only knew he needed to get to safety with his sister. As they reached the end of the corridor, Xavier spun back. Ladislav still stood in the faint light, larger than ever, defiant in the middle of the four halls. The commando was a statue, arms spread like wings, two blasters in each hand firing into the groups of Vruhr pouring silently from two different sides, surrounding the human. A shot took him in the leg and he fell to one knee with a cry. A Vruhr raised a wicked curved blade above Ladislav’s head, but Ladislav shot him. He tried to push himself back to his feet, but another blow took the warrior in the back and Ladislav fell onto his chest.
An ache tore through Xavier and grief cracked his voice “No! Get up! Please, get up!” But his words were lost amongst the blaster fire as yet another Vruhr fell to Ladislav’s weapons.
“We have to go, Xav! Please!” Nuria was tugging at his shirt frantically, undisguised fear lacing her words. A last look at Ladislav showed the big man surrounded by enemy soldiers. With a moan of despair, Xavier gripped Nuria’s hand tight and they ran. Behind him, he heard the frantic footsteps of the remaining academy students. As they neared the end of the corridor, a distant explosion rocked the walls. Xavier had heard a similar explosion before, just after Paavo was killed. Understanding burned within him and he lashed out, striking the wall in anger before turning to the group that now looked to him.
Swallowing his emotions, he spoke, “I know you’re exhausted but we’re nearly there. Do not fall behind!” He hoped his words would push them on, but he worried they only added to their terror. Xavier lead the small group forwards thoughts warring within. Would they sense that he was as scared as they were, or would they look at him with hope? The gun he carried felt heavier than ever before.