She came together with her back against the general.
“This is it,” Cornelius said. “Make each bullet count.”
He raised his pistol and Ringgold aimed her rifle, fighting the sheer terror and shock gripping her body. Two of the Chimeras fell under their fire, but the other three made it through. One slammed into Cornelius and locked his claws into the general’s arm, squeezing and forcing him to drop the pistol. A headbutt to the face from the creature knocked Cornelius unconscious.
Another creature yanked her rifle away and then angled a cutlass at her.
“We have the heretics!” screamed the half-man guarding Cornelius.
Another monstrous shape climbed over the side of the wall.
Azrael.
He heaved himself onto the platform, then surveyed the carnage. With a snort, he pulled his cutlass from over his back. He stalked toward Ringgold, black cape fluttered behind him.
The three Chimeras parted, letting him approach. Cornelius was still limp on the ground, unconscious.
“It’s over,” Azrael said. “You have lost, Jan Ringgold.”
“It’s not over,” she managed to reply.
Azrael narrowed his golden eyes, the point of his cutlass touching her neck. “After all this time, you still don’t understand.” He gestured out over Galveston with his claws. “You have killed your people by failing to submit and join the New Gods.”
“Death is better than slavery,” she replied.
Ringgold held his gaze and inched her hand toward the pistol tucked under her jacket.
“We took Los Alamos,” she said, trying to buy time. “We freed your prisoners, and they’ve joined us.”
Azrael prodded his cutlass under her chin, forcing her head up. “I’m not worried about a group of dying, weak heretics. We will take Los Alamos back after we finish taking Galveston.”
“Maybe, but you won’t be there to see it.”
At first, Azrael looked confused.
She whipped out her M9 and aimed it straight into his gut. A pull of the trigger put a round into his flesh, making him jerk back. His eyes widened slightly as she fired two more shots. Both bullets, making him recoil. Before she could fire a fourth shot, a cutlass came down on her hand from one of the Chimeras.
She tried to pull the trigger again, but her finger wouldn’t work.
A glance down and she saw her severed hand laying on the floor of the platform next to the pistol.
Blood pumped out of her wrist, and the pain set in, electricity cutting through her nerves. She let out a scream as the pain pierced her shock.
Azrael grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground.
“The Allied States is mine,” he roared.
***
Beckham lunged over another dead Variant in the stairwell inside the Harbor House Hotel leading up to the watchtower platform. Horn followed him, wobbling slightly as he took the steps two-at-a-time, the effects of the concussion getting to him.
The advance here had been difficult. He and Horn had traveled through abandoned and burning buildings, avoiding as many of the enemy forces as they could. Twice they had to stop and engage Chimeras, but they had made it here.
Now came the hard part.
Leading the way, Beckham snuck up the last few steps toward the platform above the hotel. He paused on a landing and pointed up with his prosthetic hand, gesturing to Horn when he heard a voice.
“We will never surrender…”
Beckham wasn’t surprised that it was President Ringgold.
He glanced back at Horn who nodded back. They advanced slowly, their weapons at the ready. As they reached the top of the stairs, Beckham spotted both Ringgold and Cornelius on the platform against one of the four-foot-high walls.
Three Chimeras loomed over them, two with cutlasses drawn, and a fourth, larger beast stood between them. It had to be the Prophet, Azrael.
The abomination of science and nature angled his sword at the president, but then slowly turned, sniffing the air. His golden eyes landed on Beckham.
“Reed Beckham, is that actually you in the flesh? Ah, I can smell your fear.”
Two Chimera guards walked over to the top of the stairs wielding their cutlasses while the third Chimera drew up its rifle and fired.
“Down!” Beckham screamed. He slammed into Horn, knocking him down the stairs as bullets slammed into their former position. By the time they got up, the two Chimeras had rushed down the steps to the landing.
One of the creatures pounced on Horn, knocking him down the stairs while the second beast swung the cutlass at Beckham. He countered the blow with his rifle, deflecting the blade.
The Chimera pushed hard and pinned him to the landing. Beckham swiveled enough to get the monster off his chest, leaving a slight opening for the creature to chomp down at his neck. The Chimera took the bait, and Beckham whipped up his arm to block the attack. The creature bit into it, tearing at his limb.
But Beckham felt no pain.
The monster had attacked his prosthetic and did not yet seem to realize his fatal mistake.
With his good hand, Beckham reached for his Ka-Bar and stabbed it into the side of the beast’s exposed neck, unleashing a torrent of crimson.
The creature clawed at his own neck to try and staunch the bleeding, his mouth opening and closing in desperation, as if begging for his life.
Beckham shoved it off, then scrambled to grab the Chimera’s cutlass.
“Boss, look out!” Horn said, still wrestling with the other soldier on the stairs below. Gunfire lanced into the landing, and Beckham grabbed the dying Chimera to use him as a shield from the Chimera with the rifle that had nearly killed him and Horn before.
The beast was at the top of the stairs now, firing down. As soon as it stopped to reload, Beckham pulled out a pistol from the holster of the dead Chimera he was using as a shield and aimed, firing into the face of the sniper. The monster toppled down the stairs and landed on top of Beckham and the other creature.
Beckham fell back under the weight of
