“Those who refuse our message will be martyred.” The Messenger forced the woman’s head into the cauldron. Her body convulsed, fighting against the grip of the guards. The old woman fought, legs kicking, splashing the black, oily liquid from the pot. Suddenly, her body relaxed, and the Messenger released his grip on her head. The guards pulled the old woman back. She stood upright and opened eyes as black as coal. The crowd let out a collective gasp.
Katy buried her head into her mother’s waist. The Messenger stood with his arms raised; Laura looked back to the front, the pressure in her knowledge plate forcing her eyes to remain open. Silenced, with all of their eyes to the front, the crowd stood fixed on the woman’s transformed body.
Raising his hands, the Messenger began to speak when its head snapped back as a gunshot cracked through the air. Laura felt the release of the knowledge plate when the Messenger’s head slumped forward, its forehead destroyed as two more holes thumped into its chest. Gunshots echoed in the midst of Reds rushing forward to surround the Messenger. Screaming, the crowd panicked, while Laura stood still, a smile forming on her face.
“The Assassins reject your message,” she said.
Chapter Seventy-One
“Holy shit!” Jacob shouted, running for the tree line. “Whatever just happened, they are pissed.” The air was erupting with the vibration of the alien vehicles coming to life. Blue bolts of light ripped across the far horizon.
“Get up the ridge and into the tree line,” Rogers yelled.
Jacob led the way, stumbling through the high grass, colliding with the steep slope of the ridge at a full sprint. He twisted his gloved hands into the thick vegetation and pulled himself up, his legs pumping for traction. The voomp of the enemy gunfire growing louder and nearer to them, Jacob summited the steep hill and reached back, pulling Rogers up behind him. They low-crawled into the cover of high trees overlooking the walled community.
“There,” Rogers said, pointing.
Cutting across the low ground and running close to the fence, they spotted James, the dog close by his side. Splashes of blue raced by him, the shots going up and smacking into the sides of the far off hills. Rogers raised his rifle, spotting the first of James’ pursuers—a Red in close pursuit.
“We’re in it now,” Rogers said, pulling the trigger. Firing several rounds, the Red tumbled to the ground. James lifted his head. Spotting them on the high ridgeline, he corrected his course and ran directly to them.
In his peripheral vision, Jacob saw the pedestrian gate open and three Reds move into the open. Unaware of them on the ridge, the Reds turned to the west, attempting to cut James off. He turned and squared his chest to them. Putting the rifle to his cheek, he eased off the safety and took aim at the tail runner. He let loose a salvo of five rounds that left the three Reds dead on the ground. A blue splash of plasma smacked the trees over his head, raining down flaming debris. Jacob spun back to the front; the number of James’ pursuers had doubled, and then tripled.
Many were firing as they galloped after him. Jacob whipped left and leveled his rifle. Now laying down suppressive fire, rounds going wide, it was enough to slow the pack of Reds and force them to take cover. James was at the ridge now, Duke running up the slope ahead of him.
“Move your ass,” Rogers yelled.
James looked up at him, panting. “Tha’ fuck you think I’m doing?”
Rogers pulled a smoke canister from his belt and threw it into the distance, the canister popping and spewing green smoke to screen James’ climb. Jacob moved back into the trees, taking cover behind a tall oak. He bled off the remnants of his magazine, watching another Red fall. Blue plasma raced in his direction, cutting through the smoke and striking precariously close to James as he rolled over the top of the slope.
Rogers reached down and yanked him to his feet. “’Bout time, you lazy bastard. Hope you’re up for a run.”
“Hell, I thought you’d never ask.”
Jacob watched as a formation of armored vehicles rounded the curve of the wall and came into view. He saw the flash as their main guns fired. Jacob dropped back and rolled into the woods, landing on his feet at a full run, the others close behind him. He felt the blast and heat on his back as the forest and ridgeline exploded.
Then it was over. They continued running, crashing through the thick underbelly of the forest, their ears ringing, and their skin burning from the flash burns. At a bend in the contour of the terrain, Rogers led them again uphill, moving them into a draw before heading into a copse of fallen trees. Jacob hurdled over a thick tree, and after several steps dropped into a bed of leaves and pine needles, the adrenaline crash leaving him exhausted. He held the rifle to his chest and hung his head with his mouth wide open, gasping for air.
The others fell in beside him, doing the same. “What the fuck happened back there?” Rogers asked between labored breaths.
James pulled Duke close to him, running his hands along the dog’s body, checking it for injuries before rubbing the dog’s ears and pouring it a handful of water. “I broke up some sort of ceremony; some flamboyant fucker in a Liberace dress was torturing some old lady. James isn’t okay with shit like that. I put him to sleep.”
“Yeah, you might have put him to sleep, but you managed to wake up their entire army. Who knows what other
