Fireteam Delta Page 25

  And that was why his father was so dead set on keeping them in the city.

  As for Orvar and the twins, they had nobody. Summers assumed this was the closest thing to purpose they’d found—a sentiment that was not uncommon in the army.

  Summers glanced at the men behind him. They stood at attention, or probably what they thought was attention. More likely, they were imitating the stoic posture of the castle’s guards.

  “You want to sit down?” Summers gestured to the plush seats surrounding them.

  They each glanced at him, confused.

  “Please.”

  They hesitated, before Pat and the twins took a seat beside Summers and Nowak. Cortez looked askance at Orvar, who went out of his way to sit beside her. She was cleaning the same M4 she’d taken off a dead guard in the fight, and Summers worried for one brief second that they’d have to hide a body.

  Orvar made no move to talk to Cortez, or interrupt her, so she left the kid alone.

  “Fucking privates,” Cortez muttered.

  Summers did not expect it would stay that way.

  “Well, let’s see who else we got.” Summers stood, heading for the door.

  As he got there, he saw some of Cortez’s squad, each with a heavy wooden box on their shoulders. One of them had their old duffel bag full of grenades, and as he stood there, waiting, he continued to shift the bag on his shoulder, trying to keep it steady.

  Summers watched the man for a long, awkward moment.

  “I have good news and bad news.”

  <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

  As it turned out, the city had been more than generous in returning their guns. Nearly forty M4s were arranged in boxes around them, along with an equal amount of sidearms, and even a few shotguns. They had no explosives left, except for the small cache of grenades. It was little more than half of what they’d set out with. Even so, Summers suspected that the councilman had pulled some strings. He might have been thankful, or he might have wanted to ensure his son’s safety as only a small armory could.

  Either way, they were back in business. As for ammo, that was more of a problem. Like they’d expected, the city was hurting after their only means of making ammunition literally went up in smoke. They’d still supplied around ten thousand rounds, however. That would have been great if it was only the three of them, but for their undersized platoon, it wasn’t nearly enough for the trip south.

  “Think you could make a reload station, like Rhodes was doing?” Nowak looked to Cortez.

  “Maybe. I mean, the elves know how to make black powder, apparently. Not as good as what we use nowadays, but it’ll get the job done.” Cortez worked the action on her rifle, locking it back. “Real problem is, I don’t expect they’re going to be so keen on doing it after what we did, and if we decide to leave, I don’t know that we want to bring that on a boat. Not with locals who might not know what it is.”

  “That’s a good point,” Nowak consented. “Honestly, though, this is more than I was expecting.”

  Cortez sighed before looking around the room. Their “guards” had left them to talk after the last of the day’s meetings had ended. Now, they were alone.

  “I know you two wanted to wait and see, but we need to decide if we’re going to head to Nevada or not.” Cortez looked at Nowak. “Going to guess you haven’t changed your mind?”

  Nowak nodded. “I got a family, and—”

  “I get it.” Cortez looked at Summers.

  He thought for a long moment before speaking.

  “Look, even if I can’t remember anyone, I still want to see them. Or at least get the chance to. Pretty sure I’ll just end up as a guinee pig for the army, but I’ve been changing without even trying.” Summers gestured to his ears. “This isn’t going to stop if I just ignore it. That leaves two options: find the army, or . . .” Summers trailed off.

  He’d spent the better part of last week cleaning up the carnage of the “adversary,” or “hamr,” or whatever the hell it was called, and he’d come to a single conclusion. Somehow, his body was hosting a parasite not unlike what they’d killed. And drinking the fog had only made it stronger, along with the urges that came with it. For the past few days, he’d drank nothing but water and had eaten only bread with the most common fish he could find. Every day, he checked in the mirror for gills, just in case.

  And he remembered what Logan had said about a parasite’s life cycle. It ended with reproduction.

  If what they’d seen the hamr do was anything to go on, that wasn’t far off the mark. Maybe he’d need to be dead; maybe it would happen while he was still alive. Either way, if he thought for even a second that the thing would take over, like it somehow did with Rhodes, he’d find a nice volcano to throw himself in first. That was option two. But he wasn’t going to say that.

  “Cortez, look, we have guns now. And people. If you wanted to stay here—” Summers started.

  “No,” Cortez interrupted. “If I can’t convince you we have it good, then I’m not staying behind. I’d end up killing an elf before you were even on the boat.”

  That took Summers off guard, but he didn’t complain.

  “What I wanted to talk about,” Cortez continued, “was what to do with Asle.”

  “What?” Asle just stared back at them.

  “Summers can speak Nos pretty well now . . .” Cortez ventured.

  “I speak better,” Asle insisted.

  “I know that. Christ, all right, we can’t take you into danger, not if we can see it coming. And to be clear, I’m still against going.” Cortez gestured at Asle. “But, if we do decide to walk into this, we can’t take you with us.”

  “That’s another good point,” Summers agreed.

  Nowak considered that a moment, looking at the girl. “I mean, we can always set you up here. You know that, right?”

  “I’m going,” Asle insisted, with a little more conviction than Summers would have suspected.

  “Asle, she’s right, we can’t—” Summers stopped as he saw Asle look at him, tears in her eyes. She turned and began to walk. “Asle . . .”

  “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave!”

  She looked back at them, her face red.

  Before Summers could say another word, she was out the door.

  “Shit.” Summers looked at Nowak and Cortez. They both looked just as lost as he was.

  “We can’t take a kid with us. Not if we can help it this time,” Cortez pressed.

  “I know.” Summers sighed. “Look, Logan was the closest thing to family she had. I think we’re all she’s got now.”

  “She’s only known us for a couple months . . .” Cortez looked out to the open hall. “She’ll get over it.”

  <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

  Asle eventually found a small corner of the castle that was empty. It wasn’t hard; the servants rarely moved around on their own now. What she didn’t expect was the hand on her shoulder that followed soon after.

  “You are a very fast walker,” Synel exclaimed.

  Asle looked up, having to repress a look of surprise as she saw Synel standing above her.

  “I was to deliver news to your friends when I saw you leaving their quarters in a hurry.” Synel glanced down at Asle. “I suspected you were not in the mood for company.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because that is precisely when someone needs company.”

  Asle blinked in response.

  “Go away.”

  “Can you make me?” Synel looked down at her, her eyes smiling even if her face wasn’t.

  “No.”

  “Suppose I’ll stay, then.”

  Asle sat there, wiping at her face. They were silent for a few minutes before Synel spoke again.

  “Since we’ve established that I’m not going anywhere, may I ask why you left?”

  Asle looked up at the woman before she snorted.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I see.” Synel
looked at her thoughtfully.

  Asle glanced around the room, trying to find some excuse to get the other woman to leave. She saw only a small scratch in the wall, probably from a spear.

  Or the hamr.

  That scratch could be all that was left of someone who’d died because she was so stupid as to think that she could help.

  “Were you okay?” Asle looked up to the woman. “When that . . . thing attacked?”

  “Yes.” She tilted her head. “And what about you? I understand you lost someone close.”

  Asle stayed silent.

  “Would you like to talk about that?” Synel prompted.

  “Have you ever made a mistake?”

  “Of course.”

  “I mean, a real mistake.”

  Synel regarded her for a moment.

  “I have lost friends because of decisions I’ve made. I’ve lost loved ones when my actions could have saved them. So yes, girl, I’ve made mistakes. We all do.”

  Synel stood, putting a hand on Asle’s head. “Mistakes are a fact of life. The world is a horrible, beautiful place that will end your life just as it gives you breath. That is, unfortunately, the way things are.” She began to dust herself off. “Now then, if it’s your friends who believe you’ve made a mistake, I may be able to set them right.”

  “I’m not sure.” Asle fidgeted. “Maybe. They want to leave without me.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, I’m afraid I agree with them.” Synel finished cleaning the hem of her skirt.

  Asle just stared up at her, trying to mask the hurt on her face.

  “Oh, don’t give me that.” Synel waved a hand dismissively. “The road is no place for someone your age, even if I think an exceptional girl like you would do well. But there’s something about your friends . . . and despite what I said, I can’t imagine that anywhere dangerous for them would be found to be safe for you.” She held out her hand to Asle. “Now, come on. I think you’ll want to hear the news I have.”

  “No.” Asle turned away from the woman.

  “Now you’re just being a brat. Fine.” Synel began to turn, walking away. “But you should know that the ship I’ve chartered is due to leave in a week. And my previous offer still stands, despite any misgivings your friends may have. . . I, of course, would expect a service in exchange.”

  Asle considered that for a moment before she realized what the woman was saying. She’d briefly considered sneaking onto the ship, if the others tried to abandon her. But if she was with the traders, she’d get time. Time to prove herself, to atone for her mistakes. They’d do great things, she knew. If she could help them . . .

  No, she had to believe that she could help them, that she could do something.

  Because that was the only way that she could live with herself.

  “What kind of service?”

  The corner of Synel’s mouth twitched.

  “I find myself in want of an apprentice.”

  Chapter 30: Sea Life

  “Goddamned stupid . . . I have no idea how to do this.”

  Summers stared at the journal in front of him. He’d found it in one of the few stalls that had popped up around the city. Synel had loaned him a stick of something resembling sharpened charcoal to write with, which was apparently rare, given the woman’s insistence that he return it.

  As of now, he was trying his best to record any and all things that were important to him. The idea was to make sure he couldn’t forget anything else. Or that, if he did, he’d at least have something to jog his memory. It was something Cortez of all people had suggested. The problem was, he had no idea where to start. After all, how do you summarize a lifetime of information, and how do you know which is the most important?

  “You ready?”

  Summers looked up from his writing to find Nowak in the doorway.

  “Yeah . . .”

  Summers closed the journal, picking up a small bag as he headed to join Nowak. It was time to set out again.

  <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

  They came upon the ship they’d be spending the next two months on soon after. It reminded Summers of a longship, like the one he’d seen being constructed. Or maybe it was a galley. Either way, it was something close enough to the two that Summers’ uncultured eye couldn’t tell the difference. It was impressively massive. Oars stuck out from holes below deck, where white bone cradled the vessel like a ribcage. Synel had taken a room for herself in there somewhere, while Summers and the others were given a closet-sized space of their own. They couldn’t complain. Each of them had joined up knowing that sailing with this level of technology wouldn’t be pleasant. Hell, the fact that they got a room at all probably cemented their status as VIPs.

  The captain came to greet them a few moments later. He was a pudgy, boisterous man who spoke more in the sing-songy cadence Asle used than any of the other elves.

  “We’ll be setting out in an hour. Will you be needing anything else?”

  “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Synel remarked from the boat. Asle stood beside her, looking down at Summers and Nowak.

  The captain turned to regard them for a moment before inclining his head and heading off to yell at a few sailors loading crates onto the bow.

  “I would suggest that you be careful around our dear captain.” Synel moved closer to Summers, making sure to stay out of earshot of the sailors bustling around the dock. “He’s made a living conning merchants like me into believing he can read the ‘mood’ of the sea. Do not misunderstand, he’s talented, but I would not trust someone who would use a lie where the truth would do instead.”

  “Fair enough.” Summers eyed the man as he began to hustle half-drunk rowers onto the deck. Asle trailed behind Synel, pointedly looking away. “Asle, we can still find you a place here. You know that, right?”

  Synel looked pointedly back at him.

  “I have some very capable companions I’m certain will be able to handle any problems we encounter.”

  Summers saw the corner of Synel’s mouth twitch as she finished. Asle just continued to look away, but he could see how tense she was holding herself.

  “If you’d like . . .” Synel continued, “I could have one of my associates find another ship to charter. However, my apprentice and I will be heading out today.”

  “No.” Summers looked to the others. They’d already made their decision. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s decided, then. I’ll see you two on deck. We should be heading out shortly.”

  Synel inclined her head before moving to the slowly growing stack of supplies that were being loaded aboard.

  Summers sighed, watching her go.

  “Why do I feel like I’m being manipulated every time I talk with that woman?”

  “Because you are,” Asle explained.

  Summers glanced down at the girl. Synel had assured them she wouldn’t be stupid enough to march into dangerous territory, and if things proved to be too much, she could easily find Asle a safe haven in one of the southern cities.

  He dearly hoped that that was true.

  <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

  “Commander!”

  Summers turned to find Pat, Orvar, and the twins once again holding up a hand in the local rendition of a wave.

  “Again, not a commander,” Summers replied before waving them on board the ship.

  Nearly every one of the elves that had “vowed” their lives to the group had taken up positions in the city’s guard when it was offered. They’d given each a rifle as a “gift” to sweeten the deal for the city, but kept the rest of the ammo and supplies for themselves. Part of that had been because they simply couldn’t afford to move, let alone feed that many living bodies. That, and they didn’t entirely see what help that many elves could be against what they’d seen. At best, they’d be cannon fodder to creatures like the hamr. At worst, they’d be an active hinderance. If the two companies the army had lost hunting in this world were any indication, a hundred trained soldiers c
ouldn’t stand up against the kinds of things they’d seen. It was easier for a small group to move around, and hopefully avoid any big trouble.

  The city had, of course, readily welcomed their barely trained protectors. And Summers had been able to negotiate about five thousand more rounds from the deal. With their reduced body count, that made things a little more manageable.

  Most of the elves were grateful, some embarrassingly so. Summers had assumed that Pat would have taken the same deal in a heartbeat, given that this place was his home, his family’s home, and somewhere he could live in comfort for the rest of his life.

  He’d been wrong.

  Pat must have taken their offer as something of a test of loyalty. The man had pestered, begged, and all but threatened Summers to be brought along when they’d announced that they were leaving. Orvar was so quiet, he really had no idea how or why he’d come. And the twins . . . they’d just talked excitedly between one another as they dragged a large trunk Summers was sure belonged to Pat behind them. Given the snippets of conversation he’d managed to overhear, he could say for certain that they thought of this as an adventure.

  “Core Pore El Summers,” Pat amended.

  Summers looked at the man as he stood at attention, along with the others.

  It occurred to Summers over the last few days that these were probably some of the most elite troops in the city. They’d been trained to fire a gun, and a few had even been decent marksmen.

  “Pat, buddy, you know you don’t have to do this, right?”

  “I owe you too much to turn away now, my friend.”

  “Look, we can’t guarantee we can protect you. I know it seems like—”

  “You and your people helped us when you had every reason not to.” Pat looked at both him and Nowak, in turn. “We stood by, knowing what Rhodes was doing, because we were afraid. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Pat bowed low, the others copying him almost immediately.

  Summers looked to Nowak, who stepped forward.

  “Fine,” Nowak muttered. “I dub thee privates. Get on board.”

  He gestured to the boat.

  Pat strode forward with more than a little pride.