Fireteam Delta, J. Halpin [online e book reading .txt] 📗

the building. Despite their haggard appearance, the two weren’t any worse for wear.

“Okay then.” Nowak waved back to the two men. Despite their placid expressions, they almost looked proud.

Summers could hear panicked, animalistic noises from inside the warehouses—coming from what he assumed was supposed to be their mounts, likely frightened by the fighting outside.

“Synel, think you can take care of the—whatever the hell it is we’re supposed to be riding?” Nowak gestured to the woman.

She nodded, handing Asle over to Cortez as she moved toward the building. The sounds of fighting in the distance were getting louder.

The area around them was mostly deserted, but if the dead at their feet were any indication of what was happening in the rest of the town, the faster they left, the better off they’d be.

“Summers, don’t suppose you have any idea what in the fuck is happening here?” Nowak turned back to Summers.

“I don’t know.” Summers watched as Asle tried to bite at Nowak. He kept her at arm’s length. “It’s got to be the bodies they were hanging. Maybe they were playing—”

Before Summers could finish, one of the bodies Cortez was passing lurched forward, grabbing for the woman. Orvar reacted in an instant, firing a single burst into the formally dead man’s head.

“Possum . . .” Summers finished.

“Thanks.” Cortez’s gaze lingered on Orvar for just a moment before she turned back to the warehouse.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Summers sat atop one of the same long-haired horses they’d seen in the war. It marched merrily along while both he and the others tried their best to stay on top.

Cortez was a surprise; both she and Synel seemed to stay atop the mounts with little effort, though Synel was busy struggling to keep Asle calm as they rode beside him.

Their pace was quick, punctuated only by the sounds of fighting. The noise faded into the distance as they rode through the streets, and after only a few minutes, they were nearly at the front gate.

Summers looked up to one of the soldiers hung from a nearby tree—most of him, save his torso, was gone. He had to assume he’d done something like the woman who attacked Asle, but that didn’t make it any less disturbing to see.

Still, as he looked on, something caught his attention. The man’s back.

“Oh fuck, guys—”

Summers was interrupted by a yell from his side. He only had a second to register the feeling of a man slamming into him. Summers was thrown from his horse and onto the cobblestone street. He rolled a few feet before coming to a stop, gun held at the ready.

But before Summers could fire a shot, his attacker’s head exploded into a fine mist.

“All right.”

Nowak walked over, looking concerned.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Summers got to his feet, checking himself over. The fall hadn’t hurt him, but as he stood, he saw two more red-eyed men heading his way. To his surprise, they bypassed his friends, heading instead directly toward him.

Summers leveled his gun, firing a burst into each of their chests.

Though, even as they dropped, they kept crawling toward him, almost desperately. The others saw what was happening and gave him an equally confused look. He was starting to feel a little singled out.

Cortez fired two shots into the downed men’s heads, dropping them for good.

“Hurry up and get back here!” Nowak called over.

“Two seconds.”

Summers raised a gun to the still hanging soldier and fired. The body dropped into the street with a wet thud.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Cortez pulled on the reins of her horse, angling it toward Summers.

“Take a look at him,” Summers replied.

As he approached the corpse, Summers flipped the body over, exposing the small radio still attached to the man’s back.

“Oh . . . shit . . .”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

The group had put serious distance between themselves and the town by the next morning. They worked now in a small alcove beneath a cliff’s edge, making camp.

Asle sat beside Summers, her eyes staring directly ahead. She’d long ago calmed down, or at least stopped trying to kill them. That didn’t mean she was back to normal, however.

“You, uh . . . good?” Summers looked to the girl. She nodded.

He waited with her for another minute, watching her. She didn’t blink, didn’t do much of anything, actually. Synel had made sure to feed her, but even that was more . . . mechanical than it should have been.

“I’m tired,” Asle responded.

After a moment, Summers put a hand on Asle’s head.

“Yeah, I get it. So am I.”

The girl said nothing, but the tension in her shoulders seemed to disappear.

A few feet away, Nowak tinkered with the radio he’d found. It was something more modern than they were used to. They wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone, not unless they were only a few miles away. But if the base in Nevada had set up a tower, then they’d at least be able to get a signal from it. After some muttered cursing, Summers heard the telltale sound of static.

“Got it!” Nowak called over.

Summers got to his feet, watching as Cortez moved to Nowak’s side. As he worked, the static resolved into a human voice.

“—for a full retreat from the operational zone. I repeat, all activity in the operational zone has been recalled. We are under heavy attack. Under the authority of General Thompson, we have called for a full retreat from the operational zone. I repeat . . .”

The message continued to loop.

“That’s an automated message . . .” Cortez spoke low.

“We already knew shit was hitting the fan here. Just means we need to hurry. Faster we get there, faster we can get home.” Nowak glanced back toward Asle, then Summers. “And maybe get some