Chapter 46 - Best Laid Plans

  “Get that fucking gun out of my face,” said Cole, growling under his breath. A glowing match hovered above the powder port on the handcannon clutched in Guall’s massive hands. The mouth in the center of the ring of tentacles sneered. “We caught her lurking near the tower. She wears the same Earth gear you do,”

  One of the demons pulled in a figure in a gas mask, and Cole looked at the short, blond hair.

  “Jesus Christ, Nona?” said Cole.

  “So you do know her!” barked Guall.

  “She’s part of Moriarty’s team,” said Cole.

  “I never saw her with Moriarty before this,” hissed the deathbringer.

  He glared at the woman. “This is her first run. She’s supposed to be thirty klicks east of here getting ready to ambush Leon en route to the front. What the fuck are you doing here, Nona?”

  “I went ahead,” she said.

  “You went—” Cole ran a hand over his head. “You went ahead? Christ, this is why I didn’t want you on this team, because you just do whatever you want. Moriarty had a plan, and you risked fucking everything up and giving away both teams.”

  Nona glared at him. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “So why’d you come back?” asked Cole.

  Nona glanced at the demons ringing the group. The assortment of hellish creatures. “We need to talk, Cole. Just us.”

  “Stop short there, girly,” growled Guall. “What you got to say to him that you’re so skittish to broach afore us, now? Makes me a bit wary.” His fingers tightened on his hand cannon.

  Cole grit his teeth. Nona was going to get them all killed if she kept on like that. “Guall and the others are risking their necks, same as us. Spit it out.”

  She grit her teeth. “Moriarty’s plan is a bust. Leon isn’t on the steam carriage. He’s already at the front.”

  Cole stepped back. “Shit. You’re sure?”

  “I’ve seen him.”

  Cole rubbed his chin. “What about the rest of his party?”

  “He’s got a knight and a spellcaster with him. The others are in the steam carriage Moriarty is going to ambush.”

  Guall leaned in closer to Cole. “How much you trust this whelp, boy?”

  Cole eyed the short, furtive Kicker. A woman whose LF attunement abilities were so secret only Bricker had access to it. Her file ought to have had a note, does not play well with others. “About as far as I can throw her,” said Cole. “But it doesn’t change the plan in the short term. We get closer, we verify. If he’s there, maybe we work a way to pull him out and salvage this op. They brought him to the front to level him up, so he’s got to have some level of exposure.”

  “Risky business,” said Guall. He raised his voice. “What’s war without a little gamble, eh?” He and his men started to laugh, but all the mirth dropped out of his voice again. “We keep going. But no more surprises, yeah? Any more humans come out the woods and we don’t ask questions. We just shoot and get the cookfire going.” He pointed to Nona. “And keep a leash on that one.”

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  “You worry about your men, I’ll worry about mine,” said Cole. Though, truth be told, the demon commandos were more than enough cause to worry.

  Guall rested his hand cannon against his shoulder again and struck out north. The terrain descended quickly into a toxic mire, crisscrossed by half-flooded trenches and razor wire. The Scar loomed ahead, still fifteen or twenty kilometers distant, belching its cloud of sulfurous fumes into the air. Guall’s snake-like mage companion led the way, slithering across the ground and pointing out safe routes.

  Guall was careful to follow in his footsteps. “Just because this mire ain’t manned, doesn’t mean it’s safe,” he said. “Fissures and pits abound. One wrong step into what you thought was a puddle, and you’re gone forever.”

  Cole half-thought Guall was fucking with him, until one of the demons strayed just a few meters too far to the side and vanished with a cut-off yelp. Cole stopped, staring at the surface ripples where a moment before had been one of the needle-teethed soldiers. “Howie, rope,” he said, but felt a heavy hand drop onto his shoulder.

  “Nay. Tis too late. There’s more’n bones in those pits and dropping a line is apt to dredge up something you’d rather not catch.”

  “He’s your man,” said Cole. “How can you just abandon him?”

  The demons laughed at that. Guall grinned down at him. “Humans and their lives and souls. The Scarred are from the world beyond the world, human. To there his essence returns, and in some years that fool will pull a corporeal form together and claw once more through the Scar. This is why we will win, so long as the Scar stays open. Our march is an endless wheel, and we will turn it as many times as we must.”

  Jesus Christ. This world was fucked. No wonder Moriarty’s source was so eager to get out of here. Still wary of leaving the lost soldier behind, he trudged on. Night began to fall—though it hardly got darker with the broad, thick cloud overhead. The others broke out their NODs. Maybe an hour after sunset, Guall reached a trench and jumped down into knee-deep water, pulling away at boards that covered the entrance to a tunnel. Great.

  Guall stopped. “From here, we shine no light. Do not speak of terrors, do not peer too deeply into the dark. We have kept this passage secret and safe for an occasion just such as this. I would not see it wasted by your deaths.”

  Cole still hadn’t gotten over his claustrophobia from the keep wall tunnel in Curahee. At least this one was big enough to enter standing—the massive demon captain would never have fit into it otherwise. Inside, even Cole was forced to bring out his NODs, switching on his rifle’s IR lamp.

  The dug-out chamber looked to have once been some sort of barracks, with lines of rotted bunks—some of which still had occupants. Grateful for the gas mask, Cole pushed on behind Guall. The demons seemed to have little issue navigating the dark—even the ones that did have visible eyes. He felt the occasional charge being burned, so maybe it was just a spell of the serpentine demon mage that kept them all going. On the other end, Guall rolled aside a set of steel barrels—ones that looked as though they’d been rolled in place as a hasty barricade. Beyond, a tunnel ran deeper into the ground.

  “The Vaelians dug this, not expecting something to dig back,” chuckled Guall. “Their positions were overrun from behind and my kin advanced, only to find worse than spear and cannonfire waiting for them.”

  The tunnels stretched on for what felt like several kilometers, winding up and down, with offshoots, switchbacks, and side chambers. Occasionally the ceiling rumbled from cannon-fire or heavy-hitting spells.

  Twice, Cole caught the battery-acid stench of the unseen demon crawling on the roof of the tunnel above them, but any time he shined his light above, the creature moved away. It must have been able to see the near infrared light. Other times, he picked up the faint sound of grinding or slithering in the distance and did his best to focus on the details of his mission. Roxy kept close pace beside him.

  “I don’t like this,” she muttered. “These guys are rotten, and you know it.”

  “Yeah,” Cole whispered back. He glanced around at the other demons. His unease had been growing since Nona’s news. Best to have a plan in place. He keyed his radio to keep his voice as low as possible. “If things go sideways, Rox, you tie up Guall. Besson, you and me will get the snake. Howie, slow the rest of them down as best you can until we take out their mage.”

  Howie radio’d back. “Should we be talking about this?” he asked.

  Cole looked around at the demons muttering to each other, shifting often in formation to change who they walked next to. Occasionally, they spared glances back at Cole’s team.

  “I’m pretty sure they’re doing the same thing,” said Cole. “Never hurts to be prepared. Howie, you’re going to be prime target if things pop off. Stick close to Roxy. Everyone got it?”

  A chorus of affirmation sounded in his earpiece. “Nona, do you have…” he glanced around the tunnel and stopped. “Where the fuck is Nona?”