Quest For Earth (16 page)

‘We must not be forced to choose sides in a fight. It is imperative we discover how dire the situation truly is, for all these races. And keep our options open.'

Bree sucked in a sharp breath. ‘You're going to check it out.'

Sherise nodded.

‘I guess that makes sense.'

‘And there is more.' Quickly, Sherise told her friend what Maaka had told her about the races.

‘That's terrible. If it's true.'

‘Now you see why I need to go to this settlement. Two or three Earth days should be sufficient. I have sent a personal message to Dyrke telling him not to expect us back until then.'
That's if the signal is not jammed.

‘That's not a lot of time.'

‘We require a minimum of one of your weeks for the journey to the Vortex entrance, that gives us a little less than six to conduct our investigations, find what we need and repair the ship, with one week to spare.'

‘And hope like hell your technology doesn't fall into one of these guys' hands. I dunno, Sherise. Maybe our turning up here at this point in time could be the only thing these people need to start a war; if what Maaka says is true. I don't know … I don't know if I could live through another one.' Bree stuffed her hands in her pockets and, head lowered, resumed her trudge down the road.

Sherise looped an arm around her friend's shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. ‘I have already considered this possibility and, like you, fear we could well be the catalyst. But we will never give up the ship or any of our technology; not if we suspect it will be used for war. And you and I, we still have each other.'

Bree mumbled, her voice loaded with darkness, ‘Yeah, and we both know that will mean jack-shit if some nutto is determined to take us down.'

Sherise bit her lip, feeling weariness that had little to do with physical fatigue. She feared Bree could well be correct. They had learned that bleak fact the hard way. But until their fate had been sealed, Sherise would cling to the glimmer of hope she guarded deep in her heart.

It was the only thing she had left.

With the ruined towers dwindling into the distance behind her, she cast a jaundiced eye over the equally damaged smaller dwellings interspersed with sprawling squat buildings that looked like floor after floor of flat concrete slabs.

Strange.
She could question her friend who had fallen quiet, but she was too tired to speak. Many paces ahead, Maaka strode with Kondo by his side. They talked as if they were old friends. A lot of back slapping, throwing back of their heads and laughing.

All of which made her want to run up and demand to be told of their conversation. She frowned, aware that in a tiny corner of her essence there lingered an element of distrust concerning the Relic warlord. Old prejudices died hard and the Relics had been the Darkons' enemy for too many cycles. His actions had better stem from their mission of gaining intel, although she could not think of any other reason. He and his men were just as trapped on this planet as the Darkons.

‘Looks like Kondo has found a buddy,' Bree said.

Again, that bite of suspicion. Sherise said with slow emphasis, ‘Yes. I trust he remembers where his loyalties lie.'

Ahead, Maaka raised a hand and halted. He said something to the Relic warlord who walloped the other man on the back again. The ragged column stopped. Several men jogged over to the side of the road to relieve themselves.

Sherise hastily turned her back.

‘Oh, thank god, a rest stop. About time, too. I'm beat.' Bree plonked her butt down on the hot surface and buried her head in her lap.

Sherise fanned her flushed face and shifted her weight off her sore ankle. Wistfully she searched for a shady spot to sit awhile but the road stretched wide on both sides. The small buildings were little more than mounds of rubble, casting but meagre shadows over the hot road.

A shrill whistle issued from Maaka's lips. From a dusty side road, carts pulled by odd-looking animals and driven by fellow Lycaneans emerged.

‘Look, Bree. We no longer have to walk.' Sherise smiled. ‘We will make better time now. Come, we must hurry. The sun will set soon.'

Her fatigue melted and, invigorated, she hauled her grumbling friend to her feet. They hurried forward.

Her gaze met Maaka's. He strode to meet her and lifted her into his strong arms to carry her the remaining paces to the lead cart. She closed her eyes briefly and savoured the unusual feeling of being petite and protected.

A fantasy of which she had often daydreamed.

When she had been young and naive.

He heaved her higher and settled her down onto a wooden seat before striding off with a slight swagger. A hairy body pressed against her legs and, looking down, she saw the grinning face of the were-dog. The cart jolted and trundled down the road.

Sherise gripped the timber sides for balance. Across from her, her friend sat staring ahead, her thin face pale and grim.

The warrior holding the reins, made clicking noises. The animals broke into a ground-eating, back-jarring trot.

She clenched her jaw as she bounced on the hard seat. ‘What are these animals called?'

The driver said over his shoulder, ‘Warthogs.'

Maaka, Kondo and several other warriors jogged, leading the way. Were-dogs ran along both sides of the wagon. The other men took turns riding in the carts, then running behind. They made good time. The warthogs, with their stubby legs, ran fast. Their thick hides appeared to be immune to the heat scorching from the blazing sun, now racing to the horizon.

Every now and then, Maaka ran ahead, scanning the terrain for danger before returning to the lead. The city lay far behind them and they had long left the rutted roadways to traverse over rocky ground. Before them stretched what appeared to Sherise to be wasteland, for she could see no sign of anything living in this desolate land.

When Maaka returned to the cart, Sherise asked, ‘Has the land always been like this?'

Maaka flung a hand toward a lone, blackened tree no taller than his head. ‘Once, this area was a great city of prosperity, populated with many people. Our Elders still tell the tale of the day when everything and everyone here were decimated by a bomb. A huge fire storm enveloped what remained, reducing all to ash and dust. Since that time, nothing has grown here. We avoid lingering long in this place, where it is foretold demons will appear on moonless nights and devour the unwary.'

Sherise snorted and Bree, roused from her apathy by his words, rolled her eyes.

‘Demons. Surely you don't believe in such mythical creatures?' Sherise scoffed.

Maaka's bronzed cheeks reddened. Without another word, he swung down off the cart and stalked away.

‘I think you pissed him off.' Bree grinned.

Sherise shrugged. Although she placed no credence in demons, she could sense in the weighted air an unending sorrow. There had also been an inflection in Maaka's voice that she couldn't pinpoint. She turned to look into the distance to the north and grimaced. The skeletal remains of what had once been a wide forest of immense trees stretching along towards the horizon towered like fingers pointing with grim foreboding into the sky. The result of a fairly recent fire.

She hunched her shoulders.

Over in the south, dark clouds gathered. The several soldiers sharing her cart pointed and muttered together, then jumped to the ground.

The pace increased and she had to hang on tight or risk being thrown to the floor of the cart.

‘Something is coming,' Sherise said. She stared upwards but discerned nothing untoward, apart from the gathering clouds. She hoped there would be no repeat of the wind storm of the previous night. They would stand little chance of survival out here in the open. The day was fading too fast, the last rays of the sun blocked by the mountain range where she understood the settlement lay in the valley of the foothills.

‘I can't see anything.' Bree held one hand pressed against her belly, the other gripping the cart and stared back down the path they had travelled.

‘Nor can I, but I can sense it. Stay alert,' muttered Sherise.

‘Bloody hell. We can't seem to catch a break these days.'

A low rumble of thunder shuddered over the ground. Forks of lightning slashed dazzling yellow light amidst the ominous clouds. The outlines of trees and the massive boulders that clung to the side of the still distant hills had now taken shape, but Sherise doubted they would reach shelter before the storm was upon them. She fingered her tunic, wishing she had retrieved her cloak from the shuttle before it departed. In her haste to gather the medical supplies, it had been forgotten.

A harsh screech rent the cooling air.

‘Oh, Cercis no! Not again.' She cringed when she spotted a creature flying towards them. Her throat dried.

It was not alone.

‘What the hell are they?' Bree said, already fumbling to release her stunner from its holster.

‘Tikkas.'

Maaka shouted orders and his men sprang into action.

The warthogs plunged to a halt, the cart jerking forwards then back and Sherise had to grip hard to stop herself from falling over the side.

‘Bree, get down.' She scrambled into the belly of the cart, pulling her friend towards her. One slick move and her stunner fitted snug into her hand, the reassuring hum music to her ears.

The were-dog snarled, its canines glistening in the faint light. It crouched on its haunches in front of her, ready to attack. Sherise remembered the long curving talons on the creature's feet and grabbed the were-dog by the scruff of its neck, hauling it closer. Beside her, Bree had her weapon out and primed, aimed into the sky.

The whooshing of giant wings drowned out the next crack of thunder. What Sherise had thought at first was another fast-moving cloud, materialised into a swarm of tikkas, their metallic feathers catching the fading sun's rays, blinding their prey.

She squinted, trying to see beyond the flash, her hand wavering. A few more sectons and the creatures would be in range.

‘Out. Now.' Maaka reached over and gripped her upper arm with urgent strength. ‘I want you and the other woman to shelter beneath the cart.'

Sherise met his stern gaze - glare for glare and wrenched her arm free. ‘We are armed and will fight. I do not cower beneath anything.'

‘You will do as he says.' Kondo turned away, as if confident she would obey, and addressed Maaka. ‘You and your men stay low to the ground. Our armour will protect us from these creatures.'

Maaka drew in a sharp breath and his hand tightened over his sword. ‘Do not dare to give me orders, alien. My men and I will stand and fight.'

Kondo snorted. ‘Then stand and fight, if you wish. It is nought to me, should you all fall.'

‘Apparently, buddy time is over,' Bree whispered.

Sherise met her friend's gaze and shook her head. Her bodyguard's arrogance took her breath away. She had no intention of obeying either of them. ‘Stun only, Kondo. Give the order.'

The Relic warlord whirled to stare, his hard eyes boring into her.

‘I want one captured alive. For research.' When she met his gaze with steady composure, he swung round and stepped back from the cart, tight lipped, his expression controlled. His gaze flicked to Bree before he snarled out his orders to his men. Stunners appeared in their hands, full body armour activated.

‘Stun! Now you are the fools. The tikkas will attack again and again. They have no concept of mercy. If you will not leave the cart, then I will join you.' Maaka leapt up into the cart, stationing his body in front of her. Legs braced, back arched, his head flung back; a warrior intent on protecting his mate.

The cart rocked from side to side. Sherise gasped as she bumped against her friend and the were-dog ground sharp nails into her foot. Her bodyguard had joined the Lycanean leader.

‘Where were these guys when we needed them on Gazood?'

Despite the circumstances, Sherise could not help smiling at her friend's wry tones. She said, ‘Speaking of which. Back to back?'

Bree nodded.

The two women scrambled into position. Sherise located a target and fired.

With a screech like an incoming missile, the lead tikka dived. The swarm followed. Swooping and diving over the heads of the soldiers, the flapping of wings and hideous screams filled the air. The Relic and Darkon soldiers opened fire. Spurts of glowing green sliced upwards, hitting their targets. The Lycaneans slashed and hacked with their swords and axes. Metallic feathers rained from the sky. Creatures squealed their distress and plummeted towards the earth. Men yelled their defiance. Overhead, the storm gathered strength and growled its anger over the battle below.

The wind picked up. It whistled over the plains and howled like a rocket through the dead forest, hurtling towards them as if eager to join the fight. Driving the rain before it, like a weapon.

One last screech of fury and the remaining tikkas soared into the sky, turned, in a flurry of sweeping wings and sped north away from the storm front.

Heart pounding, her body shaking, Sherise breathed a sigh of relief. Maaka turned her round to face him. With a gentle touch, he lifted her chin and scanned her face. The concern in his eyes caused her heart to swell. He traced the outline of her trembling lips and smiled.

There was pride behind the anxiety.

Pride in her.

‘My warrior woman. Sweet Sherise, are you hurt?' His deep voice reached her, despite the roar of the wind as it slammed into them, rocking the cart and flicking her hair like a banner behind her.

She wanted to deny his claims, yell at the top of her voice that she was no warrior. Had never been a warrior. Had only ever wanted a life of peace and prayer, even though she was descended from a long line of warriors. And she definitely was not his. But in the face of the glow in his eyes, the words could not pass her lips. She shook her head and waited, mute. He brushed his lips ever so softly against her cheek. Hidden in her lap, she fisted her hands, longing to fling herself onto his chest and take what he offered. But she did not dare. She could never commit herself to a life of war and deprivation.