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Havoc (Dred Chronicles 2)

Page 67

But I can’t take the chance. If she unleashed her murderous broadcast, the enemy would tear each other limb from limb, but the effect might not wear off Jael before the poison did. If he goes after me—no, I can’t. I can’t risk it. So come on, body, shake it off. Can’t move too soon. Have to be sure I can fight.

Mustering all patience, she waited. Her heart ticked away the seconds, and gradually, the feeling started to come back, much sooner than the jackass could’ve expected. With a grunt, Dred struck, yanking the Speaker’s ankle, and he fell backward. The rest of the killers were on her, so she rolled, snagging her chains. If they all have poison, I’m fragged. But the low-ranking ones only had shivs, better for her to keep them away as she scrambled back on the floor. She staggered to her feet, whirling her chains in a clumsy circle. Jael was there, teetering but up. He slammed a kick into the Speaker’s stomach to keep the ass**le from sticking them with another dart.

“Impossible,” the Speaker wheezed.

“I’ll fight,” she said to Jael. “You get to the control room and fix the temperature.”

To her relief, he didn’t argue. Jael took a few steps back, and, with a running start, launched into an awkward flip over the rest of Silence’s assassins. A few turned as if they’d follow him, but Dred got their attention with a slash of her chains. Two went down beneath the force of the blow, and she kicked out twice, snapping bones with each strike. Eight left.

Movement seemed to help loosen up her seized muscles and joints, so she jogged in place, twirling her chains before. The silent killers encircled her. Rage blinded her, so she lost track of what she was doing to whom, and when her head cleared, the Speaker was gone, and his ten men were dead at her feet. She bore multiple cuts and bruises, all over her body, but she had no memory of receiving them. Dred took a step and was surprised to discover her hamstring had been cut. Mother Mary, what’s wrong with me? Jael rushed out of the control room, and he was fast enough to catch her before she hit the ground.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I won? I think.”

“The bodies on the ground point to yes. But . . . you don’t remember the fight?”

Reluctantly, she shook her head.

Jael wore a troubled look. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Not even remotely. Does it happen to you?”

“No. But I wonder if your Psi ability is reacting somehow with my gift.”

“Turning me into a berserker from the old vids?” Dred pushed out a sigh. “Why not? I could use another idiosyncrasy.”

“Did you get the Speaker?” Jael seemed to understand that she didn’t want to discuss her . . . episode, and she could’ve kissed him.

“He took off.”

“Cowardly sack of shit. I regulated the climate control, and I’m going to lock the door. Can you hang there for a minute?”

Blood trickled down the back of her calf, so Dred leaned against the wall. “I’ll be fine. Just need a minute.”

“Now you sound like me.” Jael went to work on the keypad beside the door to the control room. “The security’s shit, but I can rewire it so the hacking solution is counterintuitive, and if they try to get in again, they’ll set off station alarms.”

“That would give us a heads-up, at least. Thanks.”

Once he finished, Jael wrapped an arm around Dred’s shoulders. She leaned on him until the blood dried on her leg, and she stopped feeling the injury. Curious, she bent to examine it. “Already sealed.”

There was still a deep red scab where the knife had sliced through, but the tissue beneath had already knitted together. Her limp disappeared as they approached Queensland. The air was already a bit warmer though she could still see her breath when she exhaled. The rungs of the ladder were cold as she climbed back to the heart of the zone.

As she reached the right deck, she cocked her head. “Do you hear . . . combat?”

Jael nodded. “Fucking Silence—”

“And her two-pronged attacks. It’s not as much fun when we’re the target. Judging by the smell, we’ve got Mungo’s monsters all over the place, too.”

38

Chaotic Crush

Queensland was in chaos.

Fifteen meters from the checkpoint, Jael spotted the first of Mungo’s cretins, only five of them, hardly any opposition. They didn’t turn as he and Dred approached. He was good and pissed at the incursion, but when he came up to the group, he saw what occupied their attention. They’d killed one of the sentries and were busy sawing him into shareable pieces. One cannibal had an arm; another was working on separating thigh from hip. Jael had seen some horrific shit in his time, but this—

“No fragging way,” he bit out.

He launched at them and opened two throats in a rapid sweep of his blade. Those two dropped, leaving the other three to charge him with deep-throated growls. Like Silence’s crew, this lot didn’t talk much either, at least not that he’d heard, but these things were more like animals than humans. It was like they’d forgotten their words along with all sense of moral compass. Not that I’m a saint, but shit, I never ate anyone.

Dred laid one open with a slice of her chains. The links whipped past Jael and glanced off his arm, but the pain didn’t stop him from breaking another’s neck. Blood spattered from the last one’s mouth; he and Dred took the brute together, leaving only the chunky meat and bone remnants of their victim.

No time to deal with the dead. Have to save Queensland first.

“I’m afraid we’re the only ones left,” she whispered. “You, me, and the monsters.”

The promise burst out of him like a river too long dammed. “Doesn’t matter, love. I’ll keep them from you, even if it is just you and me rattling around this place. The only way they touch you is if my head’s on a pike, and somebody’s eaten my heart.”

“Smooth talker. But . . . you’re not as tough as you used to be.”

“Better men than Mungo have tried.”

She smiled. “Thanks for the pep talk. Let’s go kick some ass.”

It was a cesspool of a station; Perdition always hovered on the brink of disaster, with shit being stolen, people shanking each other in the dark, transports exploding, and mercs arriving to execute all the meat bags incarcerated within. Jael wouldn’t change a minute of it, so long as he got to fight at her side.

They hit hostiles almost as soon as they rounded the corner, a barrage of shots coming in hard and hot. Jael dove for cover. Through his enhanced senses, he identified merc armor, but these guys didn’t seem to be shooting to kill. More like they’re just adding to the confusion. He could respect Vost for capitalizing on Silence and Mungo’s joint assault, if it wasn’t so damned inconvenient. The VI was crackling with some old propaganda announcement, the first time he’d heard that, some shit about the Monsanto Corporation.

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