Book 3 Chapter 40: The Wounded and the Dead

Book 3 Chapter 40: The Wounded and the Dead

I carved my way through another Remnant as I bolted down Medinas alleys toward where Id estimated the jump troops had dropped. I stabbed through a third power-armored troop, and a bullet hit the wall next to me. I looked toward where the shot had come from to see a wide eyed, scared Deadman looking at me.

Sorry- I just thought-

I tackled him to the ground, a bolt of lasfire hitting my shoulder before I landed.

Work on your aim, and dont let your guard down, I said as I began moving further into Medina, past the defensive lines.

There were a few more close calls, but no other defenders took any shots at me as I moved, the majority of them having fought with me in the recent ambushes if not sooner. I didnt see anyone else breaking off to protect the Khan as I was, but I assumed they were either ahead of me, too hard pressed in their defense to do anything, thought whatever guards they left behind could cover him, or some combination of all of those factors.

The sound of fighting faded behind me, and started to rise in the direction I was moving. The scent of gunpowder and death was wreaking havoc on my sense of smell, but now that I was closer I could tell there were at least fifteen to twenty humans in front of me.

I broke through an alley to the sight of a dozen of the Khans personal guards, and one of his wives, Fen, fighting desperately against the power armored assailants, defending a building with their lives.

The moment I arrived one of them broke through the door.

I let out a roar and threw myself at the nearest of them, slamming my sword onto the top of his head with so much force that I nearly bisected him. The power in the sword chose that moment to reach its limit and I left it buried in the corpse, immediately lunging toward the next one with my bare hands.

He stabbed at me with his stave, but I maneuvered around him, grabbed his arm, and threw him to the ground. His jump pack activated, seemingly against his will, and he was launched screaming into the air, clipping a roof as he flew toward Medinas outer wall.

Fen was lifted by the neck by one of the armored invaders, and she lifted her knife from her boot and jammed it into the eye-lens of his power suit, earning a scream from its occupant as she was thrown against a wall.

While he screamed and writhed I moved behind him and snapped his neck. The last of them was brought down by the sheer weight of gunfire brought to bear by the Khans remaining guards.

He looked at me shaking his head. Thoughts are scattered. Still waking up, feel, he tightened his hand into a fist, weak. He looked me in the eye. What did you want?

Your wound, do you remember what caused it? I asked.

He shook his head. No. I remember riding ahead of the group, feeling one of those black booted bastards crushed beneath my tires. My raiders changed formation for some reason, I assumed some element of the battle I couldnt see in the midst of the enemythen blackness. He took a finger and reached for the area his eye had been. I was told it was friendly fire. He looked at me, seeing my inquisitive expression. You believe otherwise? he asked.

I think I need to investigate the possibility. I had a bad feeling about it, but once I saw how quickly the Remnants were able to locate you I need to determine whether or not you have a mole.

He shook his head. After what happened the last time? I oversaw the deaths of all traitors myself. Mounted my former wifes head on a spike. Betrayal so soon after witnessing its price it feels unlikely.

Even if its not a betrayal, the Remnants may have other ways to manipulate and deceive. Tools we dont know about. Rooting out either a traitor or a method will have value.

He nodded. Let it be done then. You are my Marshal, you still have my authority and may use it as you see fit to find the information you desire.

I nodded, and went to leave the room.

Donovan.

I paused and turned around to look at the Khan.

Wait here with me for a moment. We spoke once of the necessity of pageantry. Aid me in not showing my people weakness now. If they think I am alone here resting, they may begin to feel fear for me, pity, I can not allow that.

I nodded, and sat at the table across from him, taking out my weapons and ammo to inventory and clean.

After a few moments, the Khan grabbed my 9mm and began taking it apart to clean himself. Even resting he needed to keep his hands busy.