Deathstalker Honor (78 page)

They came running through the scattered battles, cutting down anyone who got in their way. The augmented men dropped the tree trunk and turned to face their new enemy, servomotors humming loudly in their limbs, and met Owen and Hazel with sword blows so fast they were blurs in the rain. Owen and Hazel countered them easily, and took the fight to the Hadenmen. They were quickly separated by the press of bodies, and soon they were all slipping and sliding in the mud, often hanging onto the tree trunk for support while they cut and hacked.

Hazel went one on one with a giant Hadenman. Blows and parries and counters came and went inhumanly fast, and sparks flew from their blades with every contact. The rain drove down around them, running down their intent faces. In the end, Hazel beat the Hadenman’s sword aside with her superior strength, and rammed her sword through his chest and out his back. He fell to his knees, the golden light slowly going out of his eyes. Hazel jerked her sword free in a last flurry of blood, and looked around for fresh prey.

Owen moved swiftly between the Hadenmen, his lighter frame enabling him to move more freely in the muddy conditions. His sword flashed in and out, come and gone in a moment, always that little bit too fast for the augmented men who tried to crowd around him. He seemed to grow stronger and faster the longer he fought, as though something was awakening in him, until he was more than a fighter, more than a warrior. He felt invincible, like some unstoppable force of nature sent to teach the Hadenmen the error of their ways. He stamped and lunged—and then he slipped in the mud and fell.

He landed awkwardly, jarring his right elbow on something solid, and his sword flew from his momentarily numbed fingers. Immediately there were Hadenmen all around him, stabbing down at him again and again, and only their uncertain footing gave Owen the time he needed to scrabble to his feet. He shot a Hadenmen through the chest at point-blank range, and the others fell back. Owen grabbed for the knife he kept in his boot, cursing and blaspheming as he looked frantically about for his lost sword.

And then he looked up just in time to see the blunt end of the great wooden battering ram coming straight at him. Four of the Hadenmen had broken away from him to pick it up, servomotors straining loudly, and they surged forward, driving themselves and their burden through the mud and rain by sheer determination. Owen just had time to see his death coming, and then the huge end of the tree trunk hit him squarely and slammed him back against the immovable main gate.

For a moment it was like a dream. The end of the tree blotted out the light, as though night had fallen especially for him. Then he was hit hard from the front, and from behind a moment later, and it felt like the whole world was pressing down on him. He could feel his entire body, his bones and his organs, actually flattening under the impact, before things began breaking. And then pain hit him, and it wasn’t like a dream at all.

His ribs cracked and gave way under the impact, collapsing inward to spear his lungs and heart. His organs were crushed and flattened. A river of blood spurted out his mouth and anus. The tree trunk swung back, but Owen stayed where he was, stuck to the main gate by his own blood. Light filled his eyes again. There was more blood, from his nose and ears and eyes. The pain was unbelievable, so bad he couldn’t even think through it, trapped in the agony of that moment like a fly trapped in amber. His punctured lungs trembled in his chest, unable to draw breath in or push it out. His arms and legs were broken, white shards of bone protruding through the bloody flesh, and his face was smashed to a pulp. He slid slowly, helplessly, down the gate, leaving a thick trail of dark blood behind him on the wood, which had actually cracked and splintered under the force of the impact.

Owen lay still in the mud, not breathing, barely thinking, his heart beating out its last sporadic movements in his crushed chest. He never heard Hazel scream with horror and rage, never saw her fall upon the Hadenmen and kill them all. He lay in the mud, the rain slowly washing the blood from his ruined face, and thought,
Such a stupid way to die. So many things still left to do.
And then he thought,
No. I won’t die. I refuse to die. Not here, now, when I’m still needed.

He reached inside himself, deep down into the undermind, the back brain, that still mysterious part of his mind where his power lay, and he pulled it forth by the brute force of his will, whether it wanted to come or not. He hauled it up out of the dark place where he couldn’t see, and thrust it into his broken, dying body. Healing energies crackled through him, and he wanted to scream at the new pain as his splintered bones slowly knitted themselves together again, but it wasn’t until his lungs healed and reinflated that he could manage even the smallest of whimpers. His heart healed itself in a moment, beating strong and hard. Bones became strong, organs sound, and it all hurt like the pits of Hell. And then the power retreated back into the depths of his mind, leaving Owen lying there in the mud, soaked in his own blood and weak as a kitten, but brought back from the brink of death by his own refusal to be beaten by anything, even the weakness of his own body.

Well,
he thought finally.
There’s another thing I didn’t know I could do.

Hazel dropped to her knees beside him, her eyes wide at the sight of so much blood soaking him. “Lie still, Owen. I’ll get help.” Her voice was unsteady with barely held-back tears. “Don’t die. Don’t you dare die on me, Owen! I won’t stand for it.”

“Easy, love,” said Owen, his voice little more than a whisper. “I’m all right. Healed myself. Help me back on my feet.”

Hazel checked his chest first with experienced probing fingers, and then hauled him up onto his feet. “Hell’s teeth, Owen. When I saw that bloody tree slam into you, I thought I’d lost you for sure. Can anything kill us anymore? ”

Owen smiled grimly. “Oh, I think a direct energy shot to the head would probably do it. Or a stake through the heart. But we’re getting tougher all the time. Now help me back inside, I’m no use to anyone till I’ve got my breath back.”

Hazel helped him stumble over to the nearest hole in the wall. The remaining Hadenmen gave them both plenty of room.

 

Bonnie Bedlam danced among the Hadenmen, sudden death on two legs. Every blow was a killing blow, and she never bothered with a defense. When she was cut or hurt she just laughed aloud, glorying in the rush of healing flesh. Not for her the honor of one-on-one combat, and if she’d heard of fair play, it was only to laugh at it. She came and went, her sword flashing out of nowhere to pierce an undefended side or a turned back. Bonnie Bedlam was a fighter, not a warrior, and had no time at all for honor. It just got in the way. She cut down the enemy with vicious, heartless attacks, and ignored the cries for help or support from the lepers fighting around her. She wasn’t there to be anyone’s shield or partner. Her powers and abilities made her far more vital to the Mission’s defense than any damn fool colonist who needed his hand held.

Midnight Blue wielded her ax with both hands, lopping off heads and limbs with her inhuman strength. Hadenmen blood struck her again and again, like an invigorating shower, and she wore it proudly. She roared the sacred chants of her warrior order, cutting her way through the battle like a forester opening up a new path in a crowded wood. Hadenmen fell almost helplessly before her cold, focused anger, and did not rise again. She took fierce blows and wounds without flinching, ignoring or rising above the pain in her battle fury. Most of her wounds closed almost immediately, and for those that took a little longer, she paid them no heed. She fought at the head of a small group of lepers, and watched their backs as her own. She could have teleported anywhere in the battle, but would not leave while she felt she was needed.

Sometimes one of her people would fall despite everything she could do to protect them, and then her heart would fill with rage. They all fought so very bravely, but in the end they were no match for Hadenmen. One by one they fell, until Midnight was left alone again. She vanished then, reappearing somewhere else she was needed, to protect another group of lepers for as long as she could.

Bonnie and Midnight came together in the middle of the fighting, and when they stood their ground, back to back, no one could move them. They blocked the way to the biggest hole in the Mission Wall, and the Hadenmen came at them in an endless tide, only to fall back dead or dying, like waves crashing against an immovable rock. The Hadenmen had energy weapons, but in the constant moving crush of bodies, even their augmented computer minds found it hard to hit any one target. And so the battle went, until the sheer press and numbers of Hadenmen gained enough momentum to drive Bonnie and Midnight back, step by step, until they were standing in the hole in the wall itself, and from there they would not be moved. Until the Hadenmen brought forward a large object, wrapped in layers of thick waterproofing. The augmented men fighting Bonnie and Midnight took one look, and fell back immediately, hurrying to get out of the way. Bonnie and Midnight lowered their weapons and looked at each other, and then at the object, as the Hadenmen pulled away the wrappings to reveal a portable disrupter cannon. Bonnie glared at Midnight.

“Get out of here, teleporter. Vanish.”

“I won’t leave you here to die.”

“I regenerate, remember?”

“Not from that, you won’t.”

“Teleport, damn you! I’d run, if I thought I’d get anywhere.”

“ Bonnie . . .”

“Go. I’ve always known I’ll die alone.”

Midnight cried out once, in rage and anguish, and vanished. Air rushed in to fill the space she’d left. She reappeared behind the crew of the disrupter cannon, hewing about her with her ax. But even as the Hadenmen fell away, dead or dying, one of them had already aimed and fired. The energy beam surged forth, an unstoppable storm of raging power. Energies that could vaporize steel or punch through force shields crossed the space between the cannon and Bonnie in under a second, and when the beam finally shut down, there was a hole in the wall big enough to lead an army through, and no sign anywhere of Bonnie Bedlam.

Midnight Blue howled with loss, at the death of someone she might have been, at the death of a good comrade in arms. And perhaps just a little at the knowledge that no matter how fast or strong she was, she couldn’t save everyone, even when it mattered most to her. She cut down the rest of the cannon’s crew and held the cannon over her head, her arms muscles bulging. She’d never lifted anything so heavy before, but in that moment she felt like she could hold it aloft forever. She looked around her, picked the heaviest concentration of Hadenmen, and threw the cannon into their midst with all her strength. The cannon exploded on impact, and a sudden intense light swept through the augmented men, blowing them away like leaves in a firestorm. When the ground finally settled, there was a great crater, and broken bodies everywhere. Some of them were lepers. Midnight tried to feel something for them, and couldn’t, just yet. Not while she still had that numb hole in her life where Bonnie used to be. She stumbled back to the wall, to guard the gaping hole. And that was when she heard the sound from inside.

Midnight stepped through the hole, and saw what was left of Bonnie Bedlam lying some distance inside. It was mostly bones, scorched and blackened by the terrible energies of the disrupter beam, but somehow still held together by strands of bloody meat. Bits and pieces of organs could be seen pulsing inside the broken ribs and shattered sternum. Terribly, the thing was still alive, and suffering. Midnight fumbled forward and knelt beside the body. The skull grinned at her with broken teeth, but incredibly, there was an intact eye in one of the sockets. As Midnight watched, another eye slowly formed in the second socket. Strands of muscle formed out of nowhere, creeping over the bone like solid worms, pulling the lower jaw back into place. Farther down the body, the organs were repairing themselves. The heart was beating, though its blood just splashed everywhere for the moment. The lungs reinflated, sucking in air. Long red muscles formed striations and linked the arms and legs together. Midnight looked back at the head. Skin covered the wet red meat, and lips formed slowly over the teeth. The mouth opened, and breath hissed in and out.

“Told you I could take it,” whispered Bonnie Bedlam, smiling painfully. “ We survived a direct hit from a cannon once before, on Mistworld, remember? Of course, Owen was with us then. We were always stronger together.”

“Jesus, you’re a mess,” said Midnight, caught between tears and laughter. “I’ll get you to the infirmary.”

“No time. You guard that hole in the wall while I finish regenerating. And if you see them setting up another disrupter cannon, pick me up and run like hell, because there’s no way I could survive another blast like that.”

“You got it,” said Midnight Blue. “If anyone gets past me, bite their ankles.”

She moved back to the wall, stepped into the great hole, and defied the Hadenmen to get past her. She stood there with her ax in her hands, ready to stand her ground till the battle was over, till the death, or hell froze, whichever came first.

 

The two Sisters of Glory were seemingly everywhere at once, luring their leper charges on, leading from the front, singing hymns and psalms as they killed everything that came against them. The leper colonists fought with the souls of warriors, holding their own against the Hadenmen for as long as they could. For all their strength and speed, their implanted armor and steelmesh, the augmented men couldn’t stand against enemies who threw themselves into the fray not caring whether they lived or died. One leper would cling to a Hadenman’s sword arm, holding it down while another leper went for the throat. Some deliberately took a sword in the belly, trapping the blade so others could drag the killer down. The Hadenmen were efficient, but the lepers were inspired. The battle surged back and forth, toward the Mission and away again, with neither side able to hold the advantage for long.