James Axler – Gemini Rising

Unfortunately, the breeze from the riddled wood was forcing the yellow cloud to hover in place above the man, with the rope dangling tantalizingly just out of reach. Knowing there was no other way out, the bruised woman took a deep breath, closed her eyes tightly and leaped for the pulley. She made the catch, fingers wrapping tightly around the old rope, but the garage door only moved an inch, then stopped, the wheels in the guiding tracks caught on the loose splinters from the damaged paneling.

Tugging feebly, Krysty hung suspended from the rope, the gas painfully searing into her exposed skin and hair.

WEAPONS AT THE READY, Nathan and Ryan walked through the streets of Front Royal with the sec men fanned out in a patently offensive formation. Finally, the troops were on the hunt

After the destruction of the keep, the ville sec men rallied and invaded the lower levels, executing the stunned blues without mercy. Now the victorious troops were doing a fast recce of the main streets, shooting every blue shirt they found. Some fought back bravely, some hid or ran away, but it made no difference. If the blues outdistanced the blasters of the brown shirts, then Ryan chilled them with a 7.62 mm round from the Steyr SSG-70. Inside the walls of the ville, if Ryan could see it, then the target was in range, and not one blue escaped. However, a few suspicious men were encountered not wearing any shirts, one stark naked, and the cowards were taken into custody for later judgment.

“Hey, J.B.,” Nathan said, studying the rooftops for snipers as they walked on patrol, “any chance you’d stay and work for me? I need a new sec chief.”

“Don’t like staying any one place too long,” the Armorer replied, his Uzi balanced in both hands. His munitions bag was stuffed with the Veri pistol and the last three rounds.

“Besides,” he added, “Ryan can’t stay here, and where one of us goes, so does the other.”

“We’re a team,” Ryan stated in unaccustomed frankness.

Adjusting his glasses, J.B. grinned. “Sure are, Chief.”

A blue shirt popped into view from behind a water trough and was cut down by a volley from the browns.

“Well, at least design me a new keep,” Nathan said, shaking the bolt of the Kalashnikov to work loose a jammed round. The ammo was good, but it seemed the blues had never cleaned their weapons, and constant maintenance was the daily price you paid to have a working blaster.

“Use smaller windows,” Ryan said gruffly.

“And store the dynamite in metal boxes,” J.B. added. “Glass cases let you know how much of the stuff is left to use, and that’s good, but much too vulnerable.”

“So I noticed,” the baron replied. “And that’s it for the next keep, smaller windows and metal boxes.”

“Yep.”

“Fair enough. Thanks.”

There was a sudden motion in an alleyway, and the men fired their weapons into the shadows. A bleeding blue shirt stumbled into view, and some of the browns finished the man off with their bolt-action longblasters. The ammo for the assault rifles was almost gone, so the sec men were using their older weapons first and saving the fancy autoblasters for any potential trouble spots.

As the brown shirts moved into some alleys, Ryan noticed a distant figure running their way, just one person and apparently unarmed. As a precaution, Ryan zeroed his scope on the incoming target, but released the trigger instantly when a familiar face appeared in the crosshairs.

“Trouble?” Nathan asked, squinting.

“It’s Dean,” Ryan said, then added, “My real son.”

The baron studied his uncle closely. “Truthfully?”

“Only son I know about,” he replied bluntly.

Placing fingers between his lips, Nathan whistled sharply twice, then once long, and the browns parted to let the running boy get past them without hindrance. They closed ranks behind him and continued walking.

“Hey!” Dean cried breathlessly, stopping in front of the three men.

“Hello, cousin,” Nathan said, giving a casual salute.

Caught by surprise, Dean strained to keep his expression neutral. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Nathan knows,” Ryan said. “I told him.”

“Oh.” The boy beamed a smile. “Hi, Nathan.”