Risen: The Demontouched Saga (Book 6)

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Authors: Douglas Wayne
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a moment before settling on the place he will fire.
    “Make it count,” I say, handing him the weapon.
    “Always.”
    Bill walks down the balcony to a spot two rooms down before kneeling on the edge. He takes a knee on the edge and places the weapon on his shoulder.
    “What’s taking so long?” I ask Spencer when Bill still hasn’t fired after a couple of minutes.
    “That’s the one downfall to the Javelin. In order for the thermal view to work properly, it has to cool the system on the launcher. Normally it doesn’t take this long.”
    “The heat have anything to do with it?” I say. It isn’t really that hot outside, but it doesn’t take much for the sun to heat a building like this.
    “Could be,” Spencer adds, jerking his head to the door. “You hear that?”
    I nod, hearing the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. I tiptoe across the room, careful not to step on any of the broken glass. Once I get to the door, I poke my head out to get a good look.
    Two men, both holding automatic rifles, are walking down the hall away from me. Unlike the people fighting for Nal, these guys are wearing matching red shirts and blue jeans, much like the crew by the cranes. Instinctively, I reach for my knife wanting to end this quietly. When it isn’t in its normal spot, I remember that I gave it to Sara earlier in the day.
    Oh well. The pistol will have to work.
    Leaning around the corner, I aim the weapon at the man on the left, bringing him down with a well placed shot to the back. The other guy, seeing his friend fall lifelessly to the ground, runs into the nearby room.
    I signal for Spencer to head outside, leaving me to follow the man. Creeping down the hallway, I keep my gun trained at the empty door. I want to drop this asshole if he so much as pokes his head around the corner.
    Reaching the door without incident, I lean in slightly to take a look inside. At first glance, I see nothing other than a few chairs sitting around a large wooden desk. When I don’t find him hiding underneath the desk, I take a deep breath before entering the room.
    “Drop it!” I shout with my gun aimed at his head.
    “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he says, nodding his head outside.
    “He isn’t the only one who can shoot it,” I say, stepping forward.
    “But what if I shoot his arm? He may drop it over the edge.”
    The odds of that happening were unlikely, but there was enough of a chance of it happening that it wasn’t worth the risk. But, I couldn’t let him know that.
    “Try me,” I say.
    When he turns his head to laugh, a single gunshot rings out from the outside that shatters the glass before the contents of his skull decorate the room.
    I breath a sigh of relief when he falls to the ground, the death shot not taken. Walking to the window I see Spencer standing on the other side of Bill with his gun aimed in the room. He finally relaxes his grip when he sees my ugly mug.
    “All clear,” I say, loud enough for them to hear.
    “Finally!” Bill says. “Damn thing finally locked. You two may want to stand back.”
    Taking his advice, I walk back to the doorway wanting to get away from the glass. I’m not sure how this missile works, but I’ve seen enough YouTube videos to know they have a nasty back blast.
    “Good!” I shout, hearing Spencer shout the same from the nearby room seconds after.
    I hear the glass shatter in the nearby room followed by the sound of the missile taking off. As the glass crashes to the ground around the room, I see the projectile heading towards its target.
    The three of us cheer when the missile hits the target, the sound of the impact shaking the building violently. Smoke fills the air from the area of impact with parts of the piece falling to the ground below.
    Ahead I see the towers of the cranes swinging wildly, trying to control the piece as it swings wildly in the air. I run close to the window, looking down to see the two cranes in front being ripped from the

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