It was an almost impossible task. The odds on such a ricochet being perfect, under all circumstances, were astronomical. But it would be possible to attain a degree of accuracy using precision blasters and the judgment and talent of Mildred and Dean. They might not chill their target, but they could quite possibly wound, and certainly make it so difficult for the Illuminated soldiers to return fire that they would force them back.
The two sharpshooters set up a continuous volley of fire, the carefully measured shots sounding loud in the quiet of the corridor, the sharp crack of metal and whine of the ricochets providing additional notes to make a symphony of sudden death. The blasts of laser fire from beyond the door grew less and less frequent, as the soldiers sought to evade the ricochets, and were forced to retreat down the corridor, stepping up to quickly fire a blast before moving back once more to safety.
While this occurred, Tammy beckoned Nita, who snaked her way around the cover until she was with the Gate number two and the injured Dette.
“Sorry—” she began breathlessly, but Tammy cut her off brusquely.
“No time,” she snapped. “Dette needs treatment back at the wags. You carry her back and tell the men what happened. On the way, get Ryan and Gloria. Time’s come to move forward, I’m thinking.”
Nita, keen to atone for what she saw as her error, nodded briefly and picked up Dette without another word. She slung the brown skinned woman across her shoulder, the extra height and muscle bulk that had made her stand out among the other Gate women now coming into its own. Dette was like a rag doll on the larger woman’s shoulders, and Nita carried her easily, snaking back around the covering buttresses until she was beyond range of the fire that was still occurring. Once she had cleared this, she took to the center of the corridor and ran swift and true, ignoring the occasional whimper from the semiconscious Dette as she sought to stop her buying the farm.
“LISTEN,” Jak said suddenly. “Blasterfire.”
The keen hearing of the albino had picked up the volleys of fire from Mildred and Dean, and picked them out against the murmur of background noise as the main war party made ready to advance. Ryan and Gloria had them forming into groups, with each having a chain of hierarchy so that they could operate as small units within the greater force. This would have been impossible if not for the fact that the Gate warriors often operated in this manner, and the people from Crossroads were more than happy to follow the lead of the more experienced fighters, willing to take their part but also acknowledging their own failings. They were in the middle of weapons checks and brief strategy discussions when the albino hunter was alerted to something happening ahead.
Ryan turned his head, trying to tune out the sound around. He didn’t doubt the word of the albino, but wanted to make his own assessment. Yes, there it was, distant but audible. Sounded like two handblasters. By the change in pitch between the shots, and their frequency, he was almost sure it was Mildred and Dean. The smaller, lighter precision pistols had a distinctive sound when set against Krysty’s blaster, or most of those carried by the Gate women.
The one-eyed warrior turned to Gloria. “We should move,” he said simply.
The queen was about to answer when Jak cut in once more.
“Nita coming—something not right,” he added, furrowing his brow as he listened.
Both Ryan and Gloria turned their gaze to the tunnel ahead, following the line of vision that Jak was taking. They saw Nita take the bend at a rapid pace, Dette securely slung across her shoulders.
“What the fuck…?” Gloria whispered, her immediate concern for her injured warrior. She ran forward to greet the scout.
“Need to get her out to the wags, get treated,” Nita gasped before drawing a breath and, as briefly as possible, informing her queen of what was happening in the tunnel ahead. Ryan joined them in time to hear what was occurring.
“We go now,” Gloria said, turning to him. The light of battle was in her eyes, and Ryan knew that already the woman was fired up by the need for vengeance against her wounded subject.