The first Free Inahri struggled to his feet. Caleb rushed toward him, grabbing him as he rose. His replacement arm locked around the man’s neck at the elbow and squeezed, his spine cracking easily beneath the force. Caleb wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to look away.

  He couldn’t do anything.

  More.

  The Advocate dropped the dead Inahri, searching for another.

  “More,” Caleb said to Harai over the comm.

  “Yes.”

  The sergeant found another target, grabbing a woman and pulling her out into the open, kicking her leg out from under her and leaving her on the ground. Caleb walked over to her, standing over her while she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

  “No, damn it,” Caleb said helplessly.

  Yes.

  He kicked her in the face, and she crumpled to the ground. He leaned over her, reaching for her neck.

  A dark blur hit him from the side, the impact taking him away from the woman. He rolled with his attacker, coming to a stop beneath the Free Inahri, finding himself looking up at General Goi.

  General? The Advocate was pleased to know who it was fighting. It’s amusement echoed in Caleb’s senses as it pulled the mantle from Caleb’s head.

  General Goi froze over Caleb. “Sergeant Card?”

  The hesitation gave the Advocate time to punch Goi in the side of the head with the replacement hand, still stuck in a balled fist. The blow knocked the General away, but he rolled with the punch and bounced up, raising his hands and falling into a martial posture.

  Caleb stood, shifting into a Marine fighting stance. How did the Advocate know how to fight?

  I know everything you know, Caleb Card. And more. So much more.

  General Goi grabbed a pair of xix from his back, tapping them together to activate them. “I trusted you.”

  “You trusted Valentine. I told you not to. You didn’t listen.”

  “You betrayed us with her.”

  “I did…” The Advocate choked off the last word, changing the meaning completely. Caleb could sense its joy at the harm it caused. Whatever the Relyeh were, wherever they had originated, they were evil. Pure evil.

  Not evil. This is our birthright. This is our universe. We use it as we will.

  Caleb reached for his hip as Goi rushed in, creating a web with the xix to throw at him. He grabbed his sidearm, raising his replacement hand and using it to catch the blow from the weapon. He blocked the xix, holding them shoulder-high while his human hand finished drawing the ion pistol, firing it into Goi’s stomach.

  The general stumbled back, the xix falling from his hands. The Advocate controlled Caleb’s hand, firing the pistol again, and again, and again. General Goi’s body nearly disintegrated beneath the blasts. The Advocate didn’t stop.

  “Stop!” Caleb roared. The Advocate did. Had he managed to break through?

  He is dead enough.

  The Advocate turned away from Goi. The rest of the Relyeh Inahri had continued, but Riley was standing nearby, ready to intervene if needed.

  “His blood is on your hands, Valentine,” Caleb said. “All of their blood is on your hands.”

  “They mean nothing to me, Card,” she replied. “Nothing. This victory will be a victory for Earth. For Earth. Not Essex. Not the Deliverance. For our home.”

  A wave of sadness washed through Caleb.

  She is a fool.

  “I guess we agree on something.”

  When she sees the true might of Arluthu, she will forget your world. She will understand it belongs to the Hunger, as she also does.

  Caleb couldn’t argue with that. Riley’s greatest folly was that she kept thinking she was in control. She had lost control before the Deliverance ever left Earth. She just wasn’t capable of seeing it.

  “The enemy forces are retreating into the caverns,” Sergeant Harai said. “We’ve broken them.”

  “Do any survive?” Caleb asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then our mission isn’t complete. We will kill every Inahri in this compound. There will be no more resistance to Lord Arluthu.”

  Come, Caleb Card. I hunger.

  Chapter 52

  Two hours of sneaking cautiously through the Seeker put John and Dante in the nearest hangar in search of a vehicle that might get them out of the area and hopefully back to the Deliverance. They had managed to avoid the Relyeh forces who were gaining an ever-increasing presence in the ship. It was easy to correlate a positive hit from a battle armor’s sensors if everyone was an enemy. It got more difficult when the pings could be either friend or foe.

  The hanger was relatively small, located part-way up the side of the central tower. It was also nearly empty, containing a few smaller delta-winged craft that could have passed for jet fighters and a single dark transport similar to the one they had arrived in.

  The presence of the transport forced them to rush from the open hatch to squeeze behind a stack of long, silver cylinders—John assumed they were battery cells—stacked in the corner. The hangar’s interior entrance was a few meters to their right, where they could see anyone coming through.

  They crouched there, hoping the pair of soldiers inside the transport’s open hatch didn’t bother to put their helmets back on to check their sensors. Otherwise, they were as good as caught.

  “What do you think is going on in there?” Dante asked.

  John shook his head. “No idea. A squad meeting maybe.”

  “What should we do?” Dante said.

  “Hopefully, they’ll all head out soon.Then we can take the transport.”

  “We don’t know how to fly it.”

  “I’d much rather take my chances flying that thing than trying to walk out of here. I watched Kiaan. It didn’t look that hard.”

  “Famous last words.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  Ten minutes passed before anything happened, and when it did, it happened fast. The soldiers in the transport jumped out of the open hatch, quickly pulling their helmets on and standing at attention on either side, rifles across their chests. John started to worry that the guards would notice them on their sensors. But if they had, they weren’t showing any evidence of it. Maybe the batteries were screwing with the signals? He and Dante should be so lucky.

  The entrance to the hangar slid open, and two more guards moved inside, taking up a matching position beside the others.

  Then a third person climbed from the transport, an older man in a purple robe. He looked important. He took a couple of steps past the soldiers and came to attention himself, eyes locked on the hangar’s entrance.

  “Someone really important is coming,” Dante whispered in John’s ear.

  He nodded. He didn’t care who it was as long as they all left quickly, and on foot, before somebody noticed them on their sensors.

  A few more minutes passed. All of the soldiers held their posture and positions without showing any sign of impatience. Or knowledge that they were being watched. The hangar door slid open again.

  John would never have believed what came through if he weren’t there to see it.

  He assumed it was a Relyeh. A real Relyeh. It was large. Almost three meters, and at least two-hundred kilos. Wide and thick, with the vague appearance of a slimy, clothed frog. Its limbs were soft but dense, with protrusions extending from the joints which rounded up and vanished beneath a resplendent black hooded robe. Its head was as alien a thing as John had ever seen. Its skull was massive and round, its face tiny in the center of it. Dozens of small, narrow tendrils dropped from beneath a pair of large black eyes, either replacing its mouth or covering it. They wiggled like worms along the neckline of the robe, leaving a stain of ooze behind. Its ears were a pair of long slits along the side of its head, and it’s nose a pair of slits at the base of the tendrils. It walked upright but slightly bent, using one of its menacing hands as it moved to help it stay balanced.

  The Inahri in the purple robe moved forward to meet it. They stopped near the middle, two meters apart. The Relyeh spoke in a weird series of layered tones, like a brass quartet playing random notes all at once. The Inahri nodded, seemingly able to understand the language. He spoke back to the Relyeh in Inahrai.

  They exchanged words back and forth for nearly a minute. Then the Relyeh reached out and put his huge hand on the man’s shoulder, immediately leaving a stain on the purple robe. The Relyeh turned, walking out with the Inahri. John couldn’t tell what any of the alien’s strange, tendrilled reactions meant. He could see that the Inahri ’s face had shifted from arrogant confidence to anger. What was that all about?

  The four guards trailed behind the pair as they headed out of the hangar. John continued to wait until the hangar door closed behind them and a few minutes had passed without activity. Then he stood up straight, moving from behind the batteries.

  “This is our chance,” he said. “You getting anything?”

  “Negative,” Dante replied, emerging beside him. “We’re clear.”

  “Still clear?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sergeant.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Dante helped support John while they crossed the hangar to the transport. John’s heart began to race, a feeling of relief rushing through him. They were going to make it.

  The elation only lasted a few heartbeats. They were still a few meters from the transport’s open hatch when a dark form appeared, coming around the corner and dropping to the hangar floor. A second form was right behind it, joining the first.

  “Shit,” John said, looking at the pair of soldiers in Intellect Skins. “I thought you said it was clear?”

  “There’s nothing on my sensors,” Dante said. “They must be jamming me somehow.”

  “I guess we have to fight.”

  “I guess so.”

  John pulled away from Dante, balancing on his good leg and bringing his rifle to his hip to fire one-handed. The two enemy soldiers split apart, one coming at him, the other charging Dante.

  Dante quickly grabbed the xix, activating them as the Inahri soldier neared. John got his finger to the trigger, squeezing off a pair of rounds at his attacker. The bolts died against the Skin’s shield, and then the enemy was on him. He grabbed the muzzle of John’s rifle, yanking it easily from his unarmored, weakened grip. John tried to get into a fighting stance, but he stumbled when he tried to put weight on his knee. The enemy soldier grabbed him, spinning behind him and putting his head in a choke hold.

  A Marine choke hold. What the hell?

  A couple of meters away, Dante cursed as the Relyeh soldier finished disarming her, using the first xix they had captured to send a charge through the battle armor, freezing it long enough to grab the second. She stood in front of the disarmed sheriff, tossing the xix behind her and reaching up to pull her mantle off.

  “Today is not your lucky day,” Riley Valentine said as she revealed herself, shifting her gaze between Dante and John. “Take your helmet off.”

  Dante hesitated.

  “Take it off, or Washington dies.”

  Dante removed her helmet, tossing it to the side.

  “Hello, Wash,” Caleb said, leaning his head in next to John’s ear.

  “Cal?” John said, confused. Kiaan had told them what Caleb had done. He still couldn’t believe it. “What are you doing, Sarge?”

  “What you should be doing,” he replied. “Joining the winning side. You can’t fight the Hunger, John.”

  “Sarge, tell me you didn’t kill those innocent people at the Inahri compound.”

  Caleb’s voice lowered. “I did kill them, Wash. And do you want to know something else? I enjoyed it.”

  John’s heart pounded harder than it ever had before. How could that be? This wasn’t the Caleb Card he had spent the last two years serving under. It didn’t matter what Caleb said. He refused to believe it.

  “I’ll get you out of this, Sarge. Whatever happened, I’ll help you fix it.”

  “There’s nothing to fix,” Caleb replied. “You should be more worried about yourself.”

  Caleb put more pressure on John’s neck, using it to spin the larger Marine around as the hangar door slid open again. The man in the purple robe approached them at a quick walk, a smile spreading across his face.

  “I knew it,” the man said in perfect English. His eyes traveled from John’s face to his knee. “I take it you’re the ones who damaged the modulator housing?”

  “Screw you,” John said, causing Caleb to tighten his grip even more.

  “You’re hardly in a position to make demands,” the man replied. “You were probably going for the housing itself, weren’t you? You probably had no idea the damage you did to the collectors will be harder to repair, especially since you killed our engineers. You have my respect for completing your mission. How does it feel to have your allies turn tail and leave you behind?”

  John didn’t answer. He had nothing else to say.

  “A soldier who knows when to be silent. I respect that too.” The man shifted his attention to Riley. “It looks like it’ll be a little while before the Seeker is ready. General Ogg sent a communication to Arluthu. Our glorious Lord has agreed to your petition. We’ll depart at once.”

  “What about these two?” Riley asked.

  “You tell me,” the Inahri replied. “Who are they?”

  “Private John Washington,” Riley said, pointing at John.

  “He’s one of my squad,” Caleb said. “He’s a better soldier than me.”

  “He can be of use,” the Inahri said. “We’ll bring him with us.”

  “Sheriff Lasandra Dante,” Riley said, looking back at the sheriff. “Head of the Law Office in Metro.”

  “So the people we killed were yours?” the Inahri said. “Their training was lacking. So was their loyalty.” He glanced over at the rifle Caleb had pulled from John’s hands.

  “I’ll do it,” Caleb said, releasing the choke hold and shoving John forward. He collapsed face-down onto the floor, turning his head to look at a suddenly desperate Dante.

  “Sarge, you can’t,” he said.

  Caleb grabbed the rifle, turning back toward the sheriff. Dante hadn’t moved. She was too frightened to move.

  “I hunger,” Caleb said, a nearly inhuman expression passing across his face.

  “Caleb?” Dante said weakly.

  He aimed and fired in one smooth motion, the bolt passing through Dante’s skull. Her head drooped forward, the battle armor holding her upright for a moment before it toppled forward.

  “Noooo!” John cried, trying to get to his feet. “Damn you, you son of a bitch!”

  He tried to charge the Inahri, falling forward on his bad knee, grunting in pain and getting up again. The Inahri took a casual step back as John fell a second time.

  “Yes, definitely a keeper,” he said.

  Caleb grabbed John from behind, throwing him to the ground and standing over him. He raised the stock of the rifle over John’s head.

  “Goodnight, Wash.”

  The stock came down on John’s temple.

  Everything went dark.

  Chapter 53

  Governor Jackson Stone opened his eyes. He immediately knew he was in the hospital. The IV running from the back of his hand to the bag hanging over his head was a dead giveaway. He took a moment, trying to recall how he had gotten there.

  Joe.

  He closed his eyes and groaned, remembering how he had led the Inahri Sergeant Harai to the Law Office, sure that Joe King had decided to hide in the armory below. He recalled how Sergeant Card had confronted the Relyeh soldier, and convinced the sheriffs and deputies to fight back against the invaders.

  He remembered getting shot.

  He shifted his head, looking down at his body. He was under a weighted blanket. He could feel the pressure against his arms and chest, warm and comforting.

  But why couldn’t he feel the pressure on his legs?

  His heart jumped as he tried to wiggle his toes. His eyes shifted to the protrusion of his feet, staring at them when the blanket didn’t move. It couldn’t be. He tried to bend his knee.

  Nothing.

  He groaned again, a sound of sadness and loss. He couldn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t move his legs. The energy unit was gone. Everyone in Law was dead. Beth was…

  Beth.

  He remembered his wife. She was here, somewhere.

  He turned his head, finding the call button dangling from the IV rack. He yanked his hand out from under the blanket and grabbed it, tapping furiously.

  Only a few seconds passed before Doctor Rathbone rushed into his room with a pair of nurses in tow.

  “Governor Stone,” she said. “You’re awake.” She looked terrified. She knew he was paralyzed. Of course, she knew. She was the doctor. She was afraid of his reaction.

  “Beth,” he said. “Where’s Beth?”

  The question took her off-guard. She stammered out a reply. “She’s… Uh… Upstairs, Governor.”

  “Get me a chair and take me to her.”

  “Sir?”

  “Now!”

  Rathbone turned to the nurses. “Get him a chair.”

  They hurried from the room.

  “Governor,” Rathbone started to say.

  “Forget it, Gina,” he replied. “Whatever you were going to say. Just answer my questions.”

  “Yes, Governor.”

  “The invaders?”

  “They left with Doctor Valentine. They took Sergeant Card prisoner.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You aren’t the only survivor.”

  “Joe King?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “Nobody outside of the hospital staff has been down there since the attack. We’re still on curfew, sir. We didn’t find him in the armory, or the corridors nearby. But one of the rooms is locked.”

  Jackson exhaled. “Okay. Valentine had the unit. She most likely killed him. But why would she lock him in?”