Cynetic Wolf

We opened fire on Thorn’s men.

To his credit, he shouted, “It’s a trap! They’ve got us surrounded. Take cover. Hit them, boys!”

People screamed and soldiers moaned as smoke filled the clearing, trees tumbling.

“Go!” Thorn ordered. His men charged Nim and several other rebels, and despite taking heavy fire, hammered through our stretched lines.

Our soldiers broke ranks, chasing them through thick pines and picking off Thorn’s men. I aimed and fired, catching one square in the chest and jumping to my feet as Thorn’s men stopped retreating and dropped into a surprise defense. The seamless maneuver fooled many of Nim’s inexperienced fighters who were cut to shreds in the ensuing crossfire.

Who was winning? It seemed like us, until that last exchange.

‘Nim, status report?’ No response.

We were getting killed up there now. Our guys needed help, something. Lars and I must have had the same idea, because we raced off to flank them.

There was heavy fire up front where Thorn’s remaining men had dug in, but overall, it was dying down. Smoke billowed everywhere and fires raged. Most of our men were down.

Still nothing from Nim, not a good sign.

Rounding the cluster of trees, we found the rear of Thorn’s guard. “On three,” I whispered.

We charged, and his first shot took out one guy. I got two more, and we were in.

Soldiers hunkered everywhere, focused on the frontline. Time slowed. In one fluid motion, I dodged an incoming blast and got off four shots before they realized anything.

Hitting the ground rolling, I shot another woman as she raised her weapon. My claws slashed the heel of a cynetic next to me and I shot him as he fell.

Thorn appeared and leveled his arm before turning and running.

Wait, what? Were we winning?

Thorn… crap! I sprang to my feet and went after him, pinging Henk. ‘We need you, now!’ Disabling my safety restraints—didn’t know I could do that—I sprinted faster, tendons screaming. He wasn’t getting away, not this time. That bastard.

A hundred meters. Faster. Come on. My heart rate skyrocketed.

He must be heading for backup. I couldn’t let him, but killing him would ruin everything. I set my blaster to stun and fired.

It went wide but slowed him a tad. That could work. As I tore through the trees, I opened fire. None of my first three connected, but each altered his path.

The fourth caught him in the back and he toppled. Yes! We got him! It was over.

‘Henk, I have Thorn. Do you copy?’

‘En route to your location.’

I closed the gap in seconds, but it was too late. Thorn was on his feet and firing. What the—?

“You should have finished me when you had the chance,” he spat. The tree next to me exploded. “My armor isn’t the shit you filth use. At least a blaster might have injured me. You’re a dead man.”

Would have been good to know. I needed him alive. Could I take him?

I dodged behind a tree. “Too bad! I thought you were man enough to fight me. Guess I was wrong.”

“Man enough to fight you?” He laughed. “Please, kid. I lead the most badass warriors in history. You’re can’t play mind games with me.”

“I thought you were man enough to fight without blasters—hand to hand—like real men used to. By the way, what’d your father say when you showed up empty-handed?” I pressed. “I’m sure Calter wasn’t very welcoming, was he?”

Come on, take the bait. Take the bait.

“This has nothing to do with my him!” Thorn snapped, a new venom to his voice. “You want a fistfight, fine. It’s your funeral.”

He strode from behind a large maple, vicious eyes engulfing me, relaxed.

I walked toward him. Could I trust him to fight fair?

“So, we meet again.” He smiled. “How were the docs? Did you enjoy that?”

I still had nightmares. The sim had nearly broken me. “Piece of cake. Like this will be,” I added with a smirk.

His eyes narrowed and he shot toward me, fist slamming my chin before I could react and sending me stumbling.

“This will be easier than I thought,” he said. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

I grimaced, assuming a defensive posture.

He came again with a complicated series of punches. I dodged all but the last, which did damage. He grinned, foot rocketing toward my face. Deflecting it, I countered with a weak jab.

He laughed. “You hit like a girl.”

Thorn landed two painful body blows and I staggered. “At least you’ll die on your feet, kid. No more mistakes. I’m not bringing you anywhere this time.” His right foot trainwrecked my ribs and I fell hard. Was he human?

“Get up, boy. Aren’t you man enough?”

I was in trouble. Despite my training, he was a much better striker. He laughed as I pulled myself to my feet.

The ground was my one chance. Lars had taught me well. Would it be enough?

He swung and I swept his leg, sending him crashing to the frozen earth, an amazed expression on his face. I was on him at once.

A quick elbow to the face and I had him. He squirmed and struggled, but I twisted my legs locked around his neck and squeezed. I had to put him out.

He strained, smashing me, but I held firm. As he was about to pass out, his hand swung. I blasted it off seconds before he lined up the shot. Screaming, his other arm arced toward me. I shot that off as well, blood drenching my shirt as he passed out.

‘Henk, come in. Anyone! I have Thorn and need a sedative ASAP!’

Nothing. I slung him over my shoulder and ran.

It took two minutes to reach the aftermath of the chaos. Bodies everywhere. Lars was tending to one of them.

“Lars!” I yelled. “I got him. Where’s Nim? Where’s Don? I need sedatives, now!”

“Nim’s dead. Don’s over there.” Lars pointed.

Sprinting, I yelled, “Don, sedatives! Do you have any?”

“What?” He saw Thorn. “You got him?”

I nodded.

“This is all I got.” He pulled a small dropper from his pocket. “Nim had the rest but well, the vials exploded when she did…” He handed me the syringe.

Nim’s dead? No… “I’m sorry about Nim.” Grabbing the syringe, I jabbed Thorn’s arm, pressing the plunger. The liquid disappeared. “How long will it last?”

“Four or five hours for a normal human. Cynetics might be stronger though. We should re-up in two.”

I noticed carnage for the first time. Holy crap. “How many dead? Injured?”

“Five dead, four wounded.” Don’s face was a confused mask of anger, professionalism, and pain.

Lars came over, eyes downtrodden.“Ashlo didn’t make it.”

What? My head spun. “Guys, I’m sorry. It was my plan and—”

“Don’t be stupid, kid!” Don snapped. “It was a great plan. Sometimes, shit happens. We knew what we signed up for. You got your guy, so let’s get the hell out of here and win this war before his friends come looking.”

The VTOL appeared over the treeline and I signaled Henk. He landed, and we loaded the wounded the second the skids hit.

“Dang!” Henk murmured when he saw the bodies. “What happened?”

“Later,” I said with a look that silenced him. “We need to get out of here.” If he knew what happened to Ashlo, he might not be able to fly. How was I going to break it to him?

As if on cue, blaster fire slammed our craft. Lights on the dash flashed.

“Move, move!” Don roared.

Another VTOL took off.

We jumped in and Henk lifted off as a ragtag crew burst from trees, opening fire as we gained altitude. Henk avoided all but two shots before zooming off.

“We need to grab Zedda, more sedatives, and get out of here,” I said.

Henk grinned. “She seems to be fine, keep your fingers crossed.” A look of horrified realization came over him, eyes widening as he asked the question I’d been dreading. “Wait, where’s Ashlo?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Henk. He, he didn’t make it, buddy.”

“Damn it!” Henk smashed the dashboard. Again. “Damn it, damn it, damn it! That stupid, blubbering idiot. I should have been there.”

Poor guy... “Henk, we’d all be dead if you’d come.” I put my hand on his shaking shoulder. “They had an army coming down on us. You saved us and made the mission a success.”

Henk’s empty eyes fell. “But still, I mean… damn!”

“Without Ashlo we’d have lost that fight,” Lars chimed in. “He was a hero, took one to the chest so we could overrun their position. He died a true warrior, Henk, how he’d have wanted.”

Henk’s eyes glistened, but he batted them away. “Two minutes,” he said in a clipped voice. “Get ready.”

“Don, where should we bring you and your men?” I asked.

“We have transport at camp, more than enough to carry the wounded. We’ll be fine. Get your girl and bring this bastard to Caen. Make it worth it,” he added with a soldier’s resolve.

I gave him my word, and wouldn’t let him down.

We landed and I ran off while Lars and Don loaded the injured into waiting off-roaders.

Zedda... When I got to the med station, she was awake and sitting. She wanted to know what happened.

“Long story. I’ll tell you on the way. We got him. You okay to walk?” I asked, my voice softening.

“I think so.”

“Good.” Or was she playing tough, like usual? “Any idea where the sedatives are?”

She shook her head. At least her eyes seemed focused.

Together, we ripped open shelves and drawers as I ran a quick web search for various sedatives and tranquilizers. Within two minutes, Zedda found Etorphine, a synthetic opioid that induced long periods of unconsciousness and catatonic states. Perfect.

Grabbing all of it, we hurried to the VTOL. I kept a close eye on Zedda in case her legs faltered.

“There you two are!” Lars yelled. “We need to go.”

We said our goodbyes and good lucks, and soon Henk took off. “Everybody stay buckled this time,” he said. “We might have company.”

I shot another dose of Etorpine into the makeshift IV someone had inserted into Thorn’s arm, and collapsed into my seat.

After sending messages to Paer and the rest of the Council, I turned to check on Zedda. She was fast asleep. Sleep, that’d be nice. There was too much to do.

I closed my eyes, that would make it easier to focus.