Maybe he should have been suspicious when Josias turned up so soon after he arrived back in Sansico. Maybe he should have guessed something was wrong when he had gotten into the place so easily and brought downstairs so quickly. But that wasn’t the way things worked out here. The threats were ever present, but they were never so organized.

  “Hicks, it’s a trap,” he snapped into the comm. “We need to fall back.”

  “Roger, Sheriff,” Hicks replied. “I’ll keep the exit clear for you.”

  “Forget about me,” Hayden said. “Get the Rangers out of there.”

  Hayden froze as a Reaper came around the corner in front of him. Another blocked his rear. He turned right, heading down another aisle, but a third Reaper moved into his path.

  He was boxed in.

  They didn’t attack. They stood at the edges of his escape routes.

  “Now what?” Hayden said out loud. He held his revolvers at his sides, keeping an eye on the Reapers flanking him, waiting for them to make the first move.

  He glanced at his HUD again. The fighting had cleared the non-combatants from the building, leaving the women scurrying into the open fields around the structure and the men taking to their horses and cars to escape. They had come for the vices, not the violence.

  A momentary calm settled over the place. A reset. The music had died out. The silence was thick enough to stop a trife claw. A bead of sweat ran down the side of Hayden’s face, cool and heavy.

  The chaos resumed all at once. Gunfire sounded above again as the three Reapers rushed Hayden.

  He aimed and fired both revolvers in both directions, using the glasses to assist. The ATCS had a direct connection to his augments, and it helped him line up the shots, placing them perfectly into two pairs of beady black eyes. Blinded, the Reapers on his flanks slowed their attack, waiting to heal. The Reaper in front of him left its feet, lunging at him from five meters away and leading with its claws. Hayden dropped a revolver, grabbing the base of the stack of wine barrels to his right and using the strength of his augment to yank it loose. Half a dozen barrels lost their stability, tumbling sideways and hitting the Reaper, knocking it away.

  Hayden scooped up the revolver, turning back toward the wall. The blinded creatures had yet to recover, and he charged the one on his right, shoving his Axon claws up under its chin and through its mouth to its brain. It slumped against the claws, and he roughly pulled them out, letting the Relyeh collapse and climbing over it while reloading his guns.

  He had barely cleared the creature when gunshots sounded behind him, and three slugs smashed into his back. The force threw him forward, sending him sprawling onto his stomach. He immediately rolled over, finding Albert about to start shooting. He got a hand up in front of his face, protecting it as the bullets continued to rain in, each shot into the bodysuit like a solid piston pounding into him. He aimed with his other hand, guessing the position of Albert’s head, and pulled the trigger.

  The shooting stopped.

  Hayden jumped to his feet. Albert was down, but wouldn’t stay that way for long. He had killed one Reaper, but there were at least four more. And then there was Bryant. Where had the khoron-infected asshole gone?

  “Hicks, sitrep!” he snapped, finding Hicks’ feed. The Rangers hadn’t retreated the way he had ordered.

  “Closing on the stairs,” Hicks said. “We’re on our way, Sheriff.”

  “I told you to retreat, damn it.”

  “That’s a negative, Sheriff.”

  A thunk sounded through the comm, a small silver ball launching from the bottom of Hicks’ MK-12. Hayden didn’t need to see it to recognize the sound of the powerful rifle.

  Two seconds later, the stairwell door exploded.

  Hayden watched three Reapers dash past the column of wine barrels where he was standing, rushing toward the suddenly obliterated door.

  And the Rangers standing behind it.

  51

  Hayden

  “No!” Hayden shouted, rushing down the aisle toward the center of the room. Hicks and the other Rangers opened fire on the Reapers, four rifles pounding three Relyeh with slugs. Under different circumstances, it might have been enough. But the Reapers weren’t ordinary trife. They were spliced with human DNA, making them stronger, faster, smarter and able to take way more punishment.

  He made it to the edge of the wine barrels in time to see the Reapers collide with the Rangers. Bahk was down in an instant, tackled by one of the creatures, its claws punching clear through the hardened transparency of his visor and into his head. Jackson managed to get out of the way, still shooting at the Reaper attacking her and bringing it down. Hicks stood his ground, one of the Reapers digging its claws into his arm as he fired a second explosive into its chest. Grunting in pain, Hicks kicked its leg and shoved it aside. The explosive detonated a moment later, sending pieces of Reaper splattering across the room.

  One down, three to go.

  Hayden raced to the stairs. His HUD showed the khoron-infected guards were also recovering from their wounds and coming up from behind, ready to rejoin the fight. The Reaper on Bahk finished its work, preparing to lunge at Ivanov, while Jackson’s target scrambled back to its feet. Albert was coming around the corner near the back of the room, joined there by Bryant.

  Hicks fell to a knee, blood pouring from the deep wound in his arm.

  Hayden’s jaw clenched. He had told them to retreat, damn it. He closed his eyes. But only for an instant. Just long enough to refocus. He had four rounds in one revolver. Two in the other. He had a pair of augmented arms, one of which had Axon nano cells layered over it.

  He had been down before. As long as he was breathing, he wasn’t out.

  But how the hell was he going to get his people out of this?

  How the hell was he going to get himself out?

  Six bullets. Two reapers in front. One somewhere to his left. Two khoron-infected behind him, their exact position fed into the combat network by Hicks’ line of sight.

  He opened his eyes.

  Turning sideways. he pointed the revolver with four shots toward the reapers in front of him. The revolver with two shots, he aimed at the khoron-infected behind him. Making all six shots virtually simultaneously would be impossible without the augmented fighting capabilities of the ATCS in his sunglasses, which is why Natalia had made them.

  He a crack shot before he had received the gift.

  He was even better after.

  He squeezed the triggers on both guns, hands twitching in response to his inputs based on the view of the targets. Four rounds went for the eyes of the Reapers near his Rangers. Two went for the two khoron-infected, aimed at the space between the collarbone and neck, a six-centimeter gap in bone that led to the khoron’s normal position in its host body.

  It all happened in a split-second. The two rounds hit their marks and Albert collapsed. But Bryant was wearing a bodysuit, and the bullet couldn’t punch through. But it still distracted him.

  The four other rounds hit the Reapers, but not where he had hoped. They got their hands up in time, blocking their faces from his attack as if they had seen it coming. Because they had. He used the same attack against the other pair less than a minute earlier, and the information had already passed through their subliminal network, letting them react ahead of him.

  Six rounds. Four targets.

  Only one of them fell.

  It wasn’t even close to enough.

  One Reaper leaped at Ivanov, and she screamed as it tackled her, raising its claws to strike. The other grabbed Jackson’s leg, claws digging into it and yanking her to the ground. The third emerged from the barrels next to Hayden, coming his way, while Bryant pulled a gun of his own—a big, arrogant, overly satisfied smile on his face.

  Hayden’s heart pounded as the revolvers fell from his hands, dropping toward the floor. He couldn’t stop the Reapers. He couldn’t save the Rangers. They were going to die.

  He was going to die.

  He had done his best. And he had failed.

  He rushed toward the Reaper on Ivanov. He wasn’t sure he would make it in time, or if the Reaper on his left would grab him before he could get that far. Bryant could shoot him in the back of the head. He only saw the Ranger in trouble, and that he was the only one who could help.

  Or so he thought.

  A strange sensation washed over him, a tingling that caused the hairs on his neck to stand up. At the same time, the Reapers suddenly froze, stopping mid-attack. Something hit the building, a wave of heat and energy flowing overhead and into the ceiling, causing a detonation of masonry and wood that sent debris exploding outward.

  The force of the sudden attack threw Hayden into the steps beneath Hicks, who was tossed back and into Jackson and the Reaper. Bryant was hit just as hard, thrown back into the wall like a rag doll. Dozens of wine barrels splintered and shattered, spilling their contents on the floor.

  Hayden groaned and rolled over. A cloud of dust rose into the open hole created by the attack. A large humanoid shape dropped through the center of the cloud. He stared at it in disbelief, heart racing, a small smile turning up the edges of his mouth.

  Nathan Stacker hefted his rifle, taking two steps to the nearest Reaper, pressing the muzzle against its head and squeezing off multiple rounds. Blood, bone and brain matter sprayed against the floor. Nathan turned and stomped toward Bryant, who started shooting, his bullets pinging uselessly off the Centurion’s powered armor. Nathan grabbed the khoron-infected man’s head, ready to break his neck.

  “Nathan, wait!” Hayden shouted. “I need him alive!”

  Nathan froze, shifting his powerful grip and breaking Bryant’s legs instead.

  Hayden pushed himself up, grabbing Bahk’s rifle. The Reapers were still frozen in place as if they were in a trance. He put the end of the weapon to each of their skulls, firing enough rounds to ensure they wouldn’t get back up.

  It was over in seconds.

  52

  Hayden

  Hayden didn’t waste time on greetings. Not right away. He had wounded Rangers who needed attention. He turned away from Nathan and toward Hicks, digging into the Chief Ranger’s thigh pocket for a patch before removing his helmet and helping him open the combat armor.

  “Ivanov,” he said as she shoved the dead Reaper off her and rose to her feet. “Help Jackson.”

  “Roger, Sheriff,” she replied, moving to where Jackson was laying on the floor, trying to tend to her own leg wound.

  “Hayden,” Nathan said, coming up behind him.

  “I appreciate you showing up when you did, Nate,” Hayden replied without looking. “More than I can express in words. Give me a minute to patch up my Ranger.” He tore the sleeve from Hicks’ undershirt, revealing the deep gash beneath. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

  “Shut up,” Hicks replied, smiling. He looked at Nathan. “Thanks for the save, General.”

  “Any time,” Nathan said.

  Hayden tore open the patch and placed it against the left side of the wound. It clung to the flesh on its own, and he pulled at it, dragging it across the wound edges so the skin was joined together again. Then he brought the patch down and put light pressure on the center to seal it.

  “You’ll wind up with a scar, but otherwise you’ll be fine,” Hayden said.

  “Only fifty more and I’ll be caught up to you,” Hicks said, half grinning.

  “Hayden,” Nathan said again.

  “Do me a favor,” Hayden replied. “Check on Bryant. He might be getting up again by now.”

  “He won’t get up again. Caleb’s got him under control.”

  Hayden froze at the name. His head turned slowly back toward Nathan. “Did you just say, Caleb?”

  “Pozz,” Nathan replied.

  “Sergeant Caleb Card?”

  “Pozz.”

  Hayden’s heart started racing. Caleb Card was here? “Shit. You should have opened with that. The whole reason I’m here instead of Sanisco is because I was trying to get a new ick for Nat. She wanted to find him.”

  “I already found him,” Nathan said. “Or rather, he found me.”

  “What the hell is going on out there?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me. Hayden…” Nathan paused. His faceplate slid up, revealing his tired human eye and a weary, sweaty face. “Edenrise is gone.”

  Hayden felt like he was punched in the gut a second time. Even Hicks reacted to the news.

  “What?” the Chief Ranger whispered.

  “Gone. Destroyed.”

  “What about the shield?” Hayden asked breathlessly.

  “It couldn’t hold. There were just too many.”

  “Trife?”

  “It started with trife. It finished with—”

  “Tentacle monsters,” Hayden interrupted.

  Nathan nodded. “You’ve seen them.”

  “Pozz. We killed a big one, and then we found a room full of their egg sacs. Probably a hundred of them or more. We lost good people doing it.”

  “I lost thousands, Hayden. In less than an hour. Caleb’s the only reason any of us survived.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He’s got some story to tell, but I’ll let him tell it. The good news is, he seems to be on our side.”

  “I’ll take all the good news I can get.”

  “I don’t have much more of it to share. We’re in a bad spot, Hayden. And I’m not sure we can get out of it.”

  “We have to try.”

  Hayden turned back to the Rangers. Jackson was patched and on her feet, Ivanov helping to support her. Hicks was holding his patched arm against his chest, looking down at Bahk.

  “His wife just had a baby,” Hicks said.

  Hayden clenched his teeth, hit a third time. He knelt beside the Ranger, removing the destroyed helmet. Bahk’s face was unrecognizable. “Hicks, your bucket.”

  Hicks passed it over, and Hayden lifted Bahk’s head, sliding the helmet down and clicking it in place. Then he slid his hands beneath the body, lifting it up.

  “I take it you have a ship,” Hayden said.

  “It’s parked outside near your chopper,” Nathan replied.

  Hayden looked past Nathan as Bryant got back to his feet and started walking toward them. Hayden grabbed his revolver, raising it toward the khoron-infected man.

  “Wait,” Nathan said. “He’s not a threat.”

  Hayden saw it now. Bryant had an empty look on his face, his body shuffling like a zombie. “Card?” he asked.

  “Sort of.”

  Hayden didn’t ask him to elaborate. It was better to let Sergeant Card explain for himself. He turned and started up the steps carrying Bahk. The building was in ruins around them, small fires threatening to turn into much larger ones at any moment.

  He kicked the remains of the cellar doors out of the way, moving through the room with the stage. Bodies littered the floor, including the thugs the Rangers had downed. The cages had broken free of the beams suspending them, falling sideways to the floor. The dancers were still locked in, trapped and terrified.

  “Help us!” one of them shouted.

  “Hold on,” Hayden said to them. “We’ll get you out.”

  Nathan went over to the first cage, grabbing the top in his powerful hands and tearing it away. The women climbed out as he did the same to the other one.

  “Hurry!” Hayden said, directing them toward the exit. The smoke was getting thicker, the fires beginning to spread.

  “This way!” Ivanov said, trying to guide them out. “Hurry.”

  The women ran out ahead of them. Hayden trailed Jackson and Hicks, with Nathan at the rear. They passed through the second room and out into the open, rushing to the field behind the building. The flames expanded rapidly, licking out the windows and enveloping the inside of the winery within minutes.

  A group of nearly a dozen women were already in the field, huddled together a short distance from the Centurion dropship, which was blocking Hayden’s view of the Iroquois. They were dingy and ragged and bruised. A few were bleeding from open cuts. But they were alive.

  “Rosa Columbo,” Hayden said, approaching them with Bahk still cradled in his arms. “Do any of you know Rosa Columbo?”

  The women were silent for a few seconds. Then one of them emerged from the group—a petite, olive-skinned woman in a short nightgown. “I’m Rosa Columbo.”

  “I’m Sheriff Hayden Duke of the United Western Territories.” He could almost feel the entire group of women relax slightly at the mention of his name. “Your husband Josias told me about this place. And that you were taken. I came here looking for you.”

  Rosa shook her head. “No, Senor. I’m sorry, but that’s not possible. Josias is dead.”

  Hayden glanced at Hicks before looking back at Rosa.

  “No,” Hicks said. “He said his name was Josias Columbo. About this tall. Brown hair, brown eyes, similar complexion to you. He described you perfectly.”

  Rosa continued shaking her head. “That sounds like Josias, but I’m very sorry. That cannot be. Three days ago, a man came to our farm. He murdered my husband and took me. He didn’t say why, but he brought me to these animals. They told me if I didn’t do what they said, they would torture me. I saw other girls who tried to resist.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Josias is dead. I watched the man cut his throat. I watched him bleed to death in the grass.”

  Hayden stared at her. If Josias was dead, who was the person in Sanisco claiming to be Josias? And who also looked just like Josias?

  “Axon,” Nathan said.

  A chill ran down Hayden’s spine. If Nathan was right, everything had just become much more complicated. Why would an Axon lead him into a Relyeh trap? Were the Axon and Relyeh working together now? That didn’t seem possible.

  “Nathan, how did you know where to find me?”

  “We did a flyby of Sanisco before we came up this way,” Nathan replied. “Your people told me where you were. I think your city is fine, Hayden. For now, anyway.”