James Axler – Starfall

Dean moved without thinking. He grabbed Mildred by the shoulder and shoved her to the side, out of the dog’s leap.

The animal hit the ground on all four legs and wheeled to the attack again immediately.

Lifting the Hi-Power, Dean shoved the blaster into the cur’s maw and pulled the trigger. The bullet punched a hole in the back of the creature’s head, slamming it down to the ground in convulsive shudders.

“Good to move fast, mebbe.” Dean didn’t bother wiping the dog’s blood and spit from his arm.

“Yeah.” Mildred took his arm and examined it. “That dog break the skin?”

“No. It didn’t have the chance.”

“I’m going to check it later,” Mildred told him. “If that animal had rabies, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

Dean didn’t worry about it. They still had to see if they lived much past the next few minutes.

Doc and J.B. joined them in short order. The four of them automatically spread out to provide overlapping fields of fire from their position.

“Have you seen friend Ryan?” Doc asked. A pallor had settled over his features from the past exertions, turning his color ashen.

“No,” Mildred said.

Dean shook his head, not trusting his voice. Back before he’d learned Ryan still lived, after his mother, Sharona, had died, running had been a lot simpler because there had been no one else to worry about. Now he had a family, and all the anxiety that went with it.

“Top of the building,” J.B. said quietly. “Him and Jak made it.”

Dean looked back at the building, noting the activity of the baron’s riders and the coldhearts swarming the area. Getting to his father and the others was going to be hard. He dropped the magazine from the Hi-Power and replaced the spent cartridge with one from a pocket.

Lightning seared the sky again, and thunder pealed.

“Lot of people between us and them,” the Armorer went on. “None of them are going to be considered friendlies. They get in your face, any of them, put them down quick.”

“That is one of the liberties of being surrounded by one’s enemies,” Doc said. He eared back the hammer on the Le Mat blaster. “You can shoot wherever you may without fear of hitting a kindred soul. However, I must hasten to admit I am reminded of General George Armstrong Custer’s last words while at Little Big Horn.” He gave a wry smile. “Damn, that is a lot of Indians.”

“Doc,” Mildred said.

“Yes, dear lady.”

“Keep your trap shut. I don’t know how much of your enthusiasm I can bear.”

“Dean,” J.B. said before Mildred or Doc could say any­thing else.

“Yeah.”

“Ready to take point again?”

“Yeah.”

“Mebbe a little slower this time.” J.B. shoved his chin at a building adjacent to the one Ryan had chosen. “We go there first. Set up a line of retreat. Let Ryan know soon as we can. Things go all the way to shit, we dig ourselves in, tooth and toenail, and wait out the storm and the fight.”

Dean nodded, then took off. He stayed low, tracking the other combatants out on the field.

FOR A MOMENT, Krysty thought she was caught in one of the nightmares often induced by the mat-trans units. She stood in a hellish land filled with gaping pores that spewed sulfurous fumes and boiling rust-colored water that made her think of old blood.

Her clothes and hair stayed plastered to her body. She felt for her blaster, but her holster at her side was empty. A vague memory twisted inside her head, and she thought she heard Ryan’s voice somewhere off in the distance. A chill ran through her despite the steamy heat flooding the land.

She struggled, trying to remember whatever it was she had forgotten. Moving slowly through the hissing geysers of steam and water, she waited for the rest of the nightmare to manifest itself. The jumps through the mat-trans units were seldom easy.

Then she recalled her conversation with Phlorin, recalled how she had seemed to fall into herself.

A nearby geyser exploded, showering her with a deluge of scalding liquid and burning rock fragments that embedded in her flesh. She screamed in pain and began backing away, brushing at her arms and face with her hands.