Read Online Saints of the Void: Atypical by Michael Valdez - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Valdez
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hitting her hip hard against the edge of a step, but she was
alright for now.
The consistent whizzes and pews of
ammunition flying around, hitting everything but their targets,
made Trenna keep a hand over her head instinctively while the other
was on her injured hip. She shook with fear, a cry escaping her
whenever a bullet hit something near their cover. At least she kept
the bare minimum amount of composure needed to keep from running
screaming back down the tunnel, getting riddled with bullets along
the way.
Looking across the left side gap, the Saint was in an
identical position to the corporal, keeping his bald head down. A
slip of adhesive-backed wax paper was on the gravel where the trio
stood a moment before. The paper held a set of four intricate
symbols that created a hypnotic suggestion – “ignore” to be
specific. Looking up to the balcony above Dastou, three men were
changing positions to fire on them from somewhere besides directly
above; it was a life-saving difference in enemy location. When had
Dastou put that Stitch on the gravel? The corporal’s temporarily
inflated ego lost some of its pressure upon realizing how amazingly
cunning his friend was in the heat of combat.
Nes also became aware that he was getting used to the
ambient brightness. The five sets of lights being on at the same
time washed almost all the detail out of the world, even when
looking down and away from them. He checked one of the pockets on
his supply belt and felt for a small sphere, found it, then held it
in his palm. Before acting, he needed to check with Dastou. Nes’
throat mic was active, so he just turned up the receiver volume by
thumbing a knob on the transceiver on his belt, and spoke at a
normal volume.
“So... this is a trap then?” Nes asked.
“Jackass,” responded Dastou, his own mic allowing for
easy conversation.
“Says you while hiding the same way I am.”
A couple of big pebbles of concrete bounced onto the
Saint’s head after being shot off from the top of the maintenance
steps, distracting him for a moment. Nes noticed a change in the
consistency of the gunfire.
Dastou spoke after a surge and subsequent downturn of
bullets flying. “It sounds like they’re trying to conserve ammo,
firing in bursts. They probably wanted us closer and with nowhere
to hide.”
“Thanks for explaining ambushes to me, Your
Lordship,” said Nes. He paused during a short eruption of fire near
his own skull. “Now, what the fuck are we going to do about
this?”
“I’ll go up the nearby escalator, you go the other
way. If a prisoner can be taken, I’ll handle it. You, though… you
do what needs doing, Nes.”
The order was clear, but Nes had never killed before.
He barely got his next words out without his voice cracking. “Yeah.
Yeah, I got it.”
Nes turned down the volume of his earpiece using
another knob on the transceiver. He changed his tone of voice to
carry over the gunfire, and moved a little closer to the girl so
she could hear.
“Trenna, we're going to be moving soon. Can you
handle that?” he asked.
She looked at the injured side of her hip, then
looked up at Nes and gave a pained, unsure nod. Nes' mind would
have to be as focused on combat as keeping the girl alive, so he
took her not-quite-ideal agreement as the best he’d get out of a
civvie.
Nes now put his attention on the mini-flashbang
marble in his palm. He pressed two buttons on the surface of the
small ordinance, then threw it straight into the air. He covered
Trenna’s face as soon as the device was airborne, careful not to
break her glasses. He couldn’t be sure if she’d be confused by an
order to protect her eyes with so much craziness happening around
her, and opted to take care of it himself. He closed his own eyes
as tight as possible, and preemptively grimaced.
The marble exploded after a little over a second in
the air, just long enough to reach the second tier. On detonation,
it created a light that was damn near
alright for now.
The consistent whizzes and pews of
ammunition flying around, hitting everything but their targets,
made Trenna keep a hand over her head instinctively while the other
was on her injured hip. She shook with fear, a cry escaping her
whenever a bullet hit something near their cover. At least she kept
the bare minimum amount of composure needed to keep from running
screaming back down the tunnel, getting riddled with bullets along
the way.
Looking across the left side gap, the Saint was in an
identical position to the corporal, keeping his bald head down. A
slip of adhesive-backed wax paper was on the gravel where the trio
stood a moment before. The paper held a set of four intricate
symbols that created a hypnotic suggestion – “ignore” to be
specific. Looking up to the balcony above Dastou, three men were
changing positions to fire on them from somewhere besides directly
above; it was a life-saving difference in enemy location. When had
Dastou put that Stitch on the gravel? The corporal’s temporarily
inflated ego lost some of its pressure upon realizing how amazingly
cunning his friend was in the heat of combat.
Nes also became aware that he was getting used to the
ambient brightness. The five sets of lights being on at the same
time washed almost all the detail out of the world, even when
looking down and away from them. He checked one of the pockets on
his supply belt and felt for a small sphere, found it, then held it
in his palm. Before acting, he needed to check with Dastou. Nes’
throat mic was active, so he just turned up the receiver volume by
thumbing a knob on the transceiver on his belt, and spoke at a
normal volume.
“So... this is a trap then?” Nes asked.
“Jackass,” responded Dastou, his own mic allowing for
easy conversation.
“Says you while hiding the same way I am.”
A couple of big pebbles of concrete bounced onto the
Saint’s head after being shot off from the top of the maintenance
steps, distracting him for a moment. Nes noticed a change in the
consistency of the gunfire.
Dastou spoke after a surge and subsequent downturn of
bullets flying. “It sounds like they’re trying to conserve ammo,
firing in bursts. They probably wanted us closer and with nowhere
to hide.”
“Thanks for explaining ambushes to me, Your
Lordship,” said Nes. He paused during a short eruption of fire near
his own skull. “Now, what the fuck are we going to do about
this?”
“I’ll go up the nearby escalator, you go the other
way. If a prisoner can be taken, I’ll handle it. You, though… you
do what needs doing, Nes.”
The order was clear, but Nes had never killed before.
He barely got his next words out without his voice cracking. “Yeah.
Yeah, I got it.”
Nes turned down the volume of his earpiece using
another knob on the transceiver. He changed his tone of voice to
carry over the gunfire, and moved a little closer to the girl so
she could hear.
“Trenna, we're going to be moving soon. Can you
handle that?” he asked.
She looked at the injured side of her hip, then
looked up at Nes and gave a pained, unsure nod. Nes' mind would
have to be as focused on combat as keeping the girl alive, so he
took her not-quite-ideal agreement as the best he’d get out of a
civvie.
Nes now put his attention on the mini-flashbang
marble in his palm. He pressed two buttons on the surface of the
small ordinance, then threw it straight into the air. He covered
Trenna’s face as soon as the device was airborne, careful not to
break her glasses. He couldn’t be sure if she’d be confused by an
order to protect her eyes with so much craziness happening around
her, and opted to take care of it himself. He closed his own eyes
as tight as possible, and preemptively grimaced.
The marble exploded after a little over a second in
the air, just long enough to reach the second tier. On detonation,
it created a light that was damn near
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