The Orphan Army (32 page)

T
hey moved as quickly as they could through the hordes of insects, being careful not to speak and not to bump against any of them. The ritual of bowing to the queen seemed to be overriding all other actions.

Milo prayed that their luck would hold.

Just a little longer.

A little longer.

Once they reached the interior wall of the hive, the party cut left and began hurrying along it toward their destination. The crowd was facing away from them, which allowed them to run instead of shuffle. Evangelyne threw herself forward, and although to Milo's eyes it was a drone running on all fours, the speed and fluidity told him that the girl had once more become the wolf.

So weird,
he told himself.

He was the second fastest of their group, with Oakenayl and Mook falling behind with every step. Milo wasn't sure if Iskiel was still draped over the rock boy's shoulder or if he was slithering along in some other guise. The salamander seemed able to blend into the background of any location so as not to be noticed, and Milo realized that he actually had to work at noticing the creature at times.

Magic,
he mused, and stopped trying to figure it out for now.

They reached the corridor and ducked inside just as the first of the drones were beginning to rise and the worshipful clicking changed in tone.

Was that lucky timing or more of the witch's intervention? No way to know. Another mystery for later.

As they left the big chamber, the glamour vanished with the speed of a light switch being flipped. Evangelyne was a wolf again, and when he looked down at his hands and body, he was a boy once more.

The corridor was empty, and now they raced along it at full speed. Evangelyne was far ahead and the two elementals far behind. The Huntsman was nowhere in sight, but several times he saw the wolf stop to sniff the ground and raise its head, ears swiveling, to hear things that Milo could not detect. Each time, the wolf leaped forward again, racing to follow the Huntsman's scent. Surely even on this ship—this hive of a thousand different life forms—there could not be two like the psychotic mutant.

The corridor ended at a T-junction, and Evangelyne took the left-hand turn without a pause and then another junction going right. A left, two rights, another left. So many that Milo lost all track of their path. He paused for breath and glanced back but saw no trace at all of the elemental boys or the salamander. When he looked forward again, his heart lurched in his chest.

Evangelyne was not there.

The corridor stretched on and on before him and it was totally empty.

He strained to hear the sound of sharp nails on metal deck plating.

And heard absolutely nothing.

Nor did he hear the stomping footfalls of the rock boy.

With sinking horror, Milo realized that he was lost.

And alone.

On a
hive ship.

Milo knew that he could not go back. If it was a matter of him having taken a wrong turn, then going back would only confuse things. If it was simply that he'd fallen behind Evangelyne, then his only chance would be to keep going forward in hopes of finding her.

“No, no, no, no, no . . . ,” he muttered as he ran, alternating that with, “Come on. Come on. Come on . . .”

He reached a juncture of four corridors and stopped.

All four were empty.

He tried to sniff the air the way the wolf had done.

Nothing. Of course nothing.

He closed his eyes and listened.

The hive ship had very quiet engines that made a soft hum so subtle he really had to strain to hear it.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Then . . .

Something.

For just a moment he thought he heard a voice murmur his name. It came from the right-hand tunnel, one that was shrouded in shadows.

Was it Evangelyne?

No.

No, definitely not. He strained to hear.

Was it the witch?

Milo couldn't tell. He took a step into the tunnel and immediately winced as a wave of stink came rolling at him and struck his senses like a punch. He winced and recoiled from a stench like rotting fish and old sewage.

Milo.

That time he definitely heard it.

Or . . .

He was so confused he wasn't sure if he could trust his ears or his mind. Everything was a crazy jumble.

Did he
really
hear the witch call his name?

He didn't wait for an answer he knew wouldn't come. He forced himself to take a step. And another. Moving into the almost palpable wall of rotten air.

Milo plucked the slingshot from his belt, fished out a stone, and socketed it into the leather pad. It wasn't much, but it was better than facing the unknown with nothing but nervous tension in his hands.

He kept moving forward, leaving the pale corridor lights behind and entering a space of total darkness. It felt like walking into the mouth of a waiting dragon. It felt like being swallowed whole.

I
t was even hotter in the corridor than in the rest of the tunnel system, and Milo felt like he was drowning in humidity. There was no light at all, and he had to feel his way along the walls. He was afraid to use his flashlight for fear of being seen.

The walls were metallic and slick with a greasy substance. Milo didn't want to know what it was.

Sounds suddenly came rolling through the darkness. Milo froze to listen, but they were far away down that long, black corridor.

He heard . . .

There it was again.

It was not the clicking sounds of the Bugs. Not the howl of a Stinger, either.

Though it was, indeed, a howl.

It was a wolf.

Howling in agony.

Milo had no choice but to dig out his flashlight. The beam stabbed through the darkness to reveal a tunnel that sloped downward and out of sight. Water dripped from the ceiling and ran crookedly down the walls. Tendrils of mist writhed like the tentacles of some hidden monster.

And the stink was even worse down there.

Milo held the light before him as if instead of alerting the enemy, it could somehow shield him from whatever might be waiting. He could feel his heartbeat in the veins of his neck and head. His labored breaths sounded too loud.

He began moving forward, though.

Into the tunnel.

Toward . . .
what?

What new horrors did the Swarm have for him?

The wolf howled again. Louder.

Milo moved more quickly, his sneakers skidding on the slick floor.

“I'm coming,” he said under his breath. “I'm coming. . . .”

He passed a row of doors that were shut and locked. Then another whose door was wide open. Milo skidded to a stop and listened.

No more howls.

But . . .

From inside the chamber, he could hear grunts and growls and the skitter of hard nails on damp metal.

Milo had received a lot of training over the last few years, and it had intensified as he got older. When Barnaby took over the pod, the young Cajun had taught them all a lot of crafty tricks. Milo used one of those tricks now.

Instead of rashly charging into an unknown situation, he knelt quickly beside the doorframe and then reached inside and sent his flashlight rolling across the floor to the left. Then he darted in and cut right, bringing up his slingshot.

The flashlight beam painted the room in pale light, revealing a scene of horror.

There were two shocktroopers crouched in combat stances, their shock rods raised to strike but frozen in a moment of surprise as they turned toward the light. A third 'trooper lay sprawled on the ground, his throat torn out. Huddled between the Bugs was a gray mass of fur and fangs.

Evangelyne!

She stood quivering, her eyes blazing but head hanging low.

She and the 'troopers all stared at the rolling light.

Milo understood the scene at once.

Evangelyne had either come into this chamber or was chased. She'd taken down one of the Bugs, but the others had struck her with their shock rods. The wolf was not bleeding, but Milo had seen the effect of those weapons on the sturdy Barnaby. The fact that the wolf was even able to stand was a testament to her supernatural power.

Or, Milo thought, her fierce will to save her people and her world.

The tableau held for two seconds.

Then the Bugs swiveled their insect heads toward where Milo crouched.

He fired his stone. He'd had more than enough time to aim a perfect shot.

Milo knew from the attack on the camp that the lifelights were too well protected to be an easy Achilles' heel. So he shot for the head. These 'troopers had body armor but not helmets. They wouldn't, here on their home ship.

The stone hit one 'trooper in the right eye, snapping its head back, blowing apart the multifaceted lens, staggering the alien killer. He wailed in a series of alarmed clicks as he toppled over.

In the instant that followed, Evangelyne, dazed and hurt as she was, leaped at the second 'trooper. Milo saw a flash of white fangs, and then the crunch of chitinous shell filled the room.

Milo had a second stone out, and he fired at the first 'trooper's other eye, scoring a solid hit. Then he was up and moving. He kicked the shock rod out of the Bug's hand, dipped down, snatched it up, whirled, and rammed the tip into the 'trooper's chest. Once, twice. On the third jab, the shock rod bent and snapped, shooting sparks into the air.

The Bug collapsed back and did not move.

Milo spun around to help Evangelyne, but the fangs of the wolf had already done their work. The lifelight flickered weakly and then went dark.

That fast it was over.

Milo felt like he was inside one of his dreams. He let the broken shock rod fall from his hands, stunned by what had just happened. He had defeated a shocktrooper in single combat.

Him.

Milo Silk.

Sure, the 'trooper was not in full combat rig and wasn't firing a pulse rifle. But still.

He'd taken out a shocktrooper.

The knowledge that it was possible, that
he
could do it, seemed to change something within him. He felt stronger. Not physically, but in some indefinable way.

He knelt beside the wolf, who was still quivering and panting.

“Evangelyne, are you okay?”

She morphed from wolf to girl, but the process was much slower than before. She wobbled and fell, but Milo caught her and helped her sit down.

“I—I'll be okay,” she said. But she sat for a minute with her head down between her knees, making small gagging sounds. Milo, not knowing what else to do, rubbed her back the way his mom did when he was feeling sick.

The flashlight had stopped rolling by one wall, and the reflected light allowed him to see some of the room. There were tall banks of machines that he figured were Dissosterin computers. They hummed quietly, and Milo wished he had a hammer so he could smash them. He thought about the bag of grenades he had but didn't know if this would be the best use for them. What if these machines only regulated sewage or processed foods? Probably only crippling the engines would matter.

He said as much to Evangelyne.

“I don't know computers at all,” she said. “My mother had one when I was little, but after the invasion, there was no use for it. No Internet. No power unless we wanted to use portable generators.”

“We need to get out of here and find the Huntsman,” said Milo. “Did you see where he went?”

She wiped sweat from her eyes and nodded. “Help me up.” When she was on her feet, she picked up his flashlight and walked carefully over to the far wall. The beam revealed a doorway with a hatch like an airlock. “I followed him in here and saw him pull this door closed as he went inside. The Bugs must have seen me come in here and they attacked before I could open this door.”

“Did the Huntsman see you?”

She ran one hand over the edges of the door. “No.” Then she turned and looked at the door through which Milo had come. “Where are the others?”

“We got separated in the tunnels. This place is a maze.”

Evangelyne bumped her small fist against the heavy steel of the door. “I'm not even sure Mook could get through this.”

“Maybe I can,” said Milo as he bent and studied the lock.

“How?”

He removed his scavenger tool kit. “The Bugs are dangerous, but they're not paranoid.”

“Huh?”

Milo tapped the lock. “Shark and me and the others . . . we're scavengers. That's what we train to do. That's why we were at the crash site yesterday. We find stuff and we take it apart so we can salvage whatever's useful. The Bugs' entire tech is designed so all of them can use it. So it's all pretty simple. We've always been able to take apart their stuff. It's just that their ships are so hard to shoot down that there isn't much left of them. That's why we haven't built any for us to use against them. It's why I wanted to steal the Huntsman's ship.”

She nodded.