Come up with a winning plan, Rusco, or you’re dead. This Froy fucker’s mean as a snake and will gutshot you in an instant.
While Wren sprayed her next volley, I took a risky, stumbling dash, hoping my boots wouldn’t crunch too loudly on the crumble. Fire nipped at my ankles and I dove into a jagged opening on the other side of the alley, just in time as shells nearly ripped off my heels. I edged my way up a ruined stair, my heart pumping, keeping my head down.
My breath came in ragged gasps. Some loss of blood. Enough to throw me off my game.
Klane was an idiot. You’re running on borrowed time. What if they have more backup?
So you gun them down.
I squinted hard, thrust out the voices from my head and shook my reeling skull. If Wren dies…
She won’t die. Keep moving.
Chapter 3
Through a broken window, I saw her, moving low, on the second floor of the building on the other side of the alley. Others’d be coming up the stairs after us now. A risky move, but I knew Froy’s type. All risk and bravado and a sureness in himself that would make a leopard weep. He had to be juiced, on pure invinco—that would give a man enough courage—or a death wish—
Gunfire raked us from below, peppering the window where Wren had last hunkered down. Clouds of dust and plaster rose. Silence. No movement from within. I felt a sick dismay rising up from the pit of my stomach. I poked my head up to look out my window. A part of me sagged in despair. I forced myself to keep moving, telling myself she was still alive while dread haunted me with every step.
I shook my head in shame and mounted some more stairs and crept along an office of broken tables and water dispensers and whatnot when the rat-a-tat of fire nearly deafened me, ripping into the wall beside me. “Hold up! Weapon down.” The harsh voice lashed out at me.
I slowly held up my gun, not daring to turn around. Think fast, Rusco. Stall them. It’s your only hope.
“If it’s me you’re after, you’ve done it, Froy, let the girl go free.”
“Turn around, slowly, Rusco. Kick the weapon away.”
I did as Froy ordered and saw he had his piece leveled point blank, his face a livid mask of contempt. Another rebel was fast booting up the stairs.
“Where is she?” the newcomer barked. “The bitch killed Brex.”
Froy’s white ferret eyes darted about the room. “How many more of you rats are hiding here?” he shouted at me.
“I think you killed the rest of them,” I said.
“You’ll wish you’d joined them, Rusco. Move!” He rapped me with his gun. “Now it’ll go the worse for you. Those RPGs could have given my team cover and saved our asses.”
“If you’d been using them now instead of chasing me, maybe you could have blown up some of your real enemies.”
The distant roar of an enemy ship echoed above and Froy’s head turned in a shiver of fear. I likened it to a squirrel that’s got dogs on both sides of him.
The rebel gripped his weapon with instinctive reflex and twisted the barrel to the window. “Shut up.”
He motioned to the others, three more mounting the stairs. “Take this bugger to base. I have special uses for him. The rest of you, ferret out the woman.”
They nodded.
I made as if to stall.
“Move!” Froy rapped the butt end of his rifle into the back of my skull. Stars flashed in multicolor. I massaged the lump growing there. My only hope was that Wren and Blest had the sense to keep away and get to Noss and the ship. If she were still alive.
Despair gnawed at my gut.
Rusco, you’re not thinking fast enough. I walked, as slowly as I could, with the gunman prodding me along. All your fancy footwork isn’t going to amount to jack shit if you don’t come up with something quickly. Look for an opportunity. Use your wits!
“If it’s arms you want,” I began, “I can get you as many as you want, Froy. Shitloads, discounted, no end to them. You name your price. Free, if you give me enough time.”
“Too late for that, asshole,” he spat. “This war’s lost. Writing’s on the wall. We’re all dead.”
“What the fuck are you on about?” cried his husky crony who guarded me. He turned on Froy. “You loco? I say we waste this bastard, close his gibbering mouth forever then use his girl and take those arms he brought and blow—”
Froy waved him off with a bitter snarl. “Quiet down, Garr. For months we’ve been fighting this dogged war. Mong’s got black magic on his side—stealth wizardry and weaponry. Armor that doesn’t crack, missiles that never miss, military intelligence beyond our scope. How else could his few ships have neutralized our entire air force? We only dodge like rats from one filthy hole to another.”
Sense at last. I licked the blood off my lip. Froy must be coming down off his ride. The edge peeling off his belligerent hide. For the first time, I glimpsed the flicker of madness seep out of his haggard face.
“Some say he’s the devil,” jeered another of the gunmen, “an angel of fate.”
“I say he’s a rotten scumbag,” said Garr, “one who desperately needs a bullet in his brain.”
“Maybe so, but how long can we keep dodging him like weasels?” probed Froy. “We’ve been fighting this war with not one break yet. We’ll all be martyrs. One of the few worlds that fight back—the rest of
