Chapter 31 – Thieves of Hope

  Ram-head took off what was left of his helmet, and it wasn’t pretty underneath. He was covered in dirt, blood, and veined with the blue feeding tendrils of the fungal infection. He looked half-dead but somehow held himself up with supernatural vitality. Fever flushed his cheeks and his hair was matted with sweat and dirt.

  “Demons of DOR,” he called out. “I am trapped in this hell.” He held out his wrists. “I have no way home. Take me. Heal me, and I shall spare your lives and submit to ransom.”

  Cole narrowed his eyes. His finger itched on the trigger. So, DOR was on the radar of other worlds. And judging by the reception Cole and the others had gotten, other worlds had about as favorable a view of the US government as any other foreign regime where they’d intervened. The United States, living up to its usual standard at winning hearts and minds.

  Morganstern spat on the ground from where she leaned against the throne. “And what’s that worth to me?” she demanded. “Maybe if you were your mage buddy who could open a door home, that might be worth something. But you’re just a meathead with a bad temper and an axe to grind. What was your plan coming here, anyway?”

  “You have stolen away the hope of countless worlds. Mine now teeters on the brink, and my masters worry when DOR will come for our heroes. I sought to stymie.”

  “You mean we’re coming to take back the kids you otherworld assholes stole from us,” she pointed out. “Sounds like you’re salty we’ve got our shit together. Get this through your thick skull: Earth is off limits. If you’ve got our people, we’re coming for them. And you’ll get nothing from us.”

  Ram-head put his helmet back on and hefted his polearm. “Then you will die here with me, Earth rats.”

  “Howie, I’m done talking.”

  The claymore spells exploded to either side of Ram-head, buffeting him with fire from one side and lightning from the other. He roared in rage.

  Cole opened fire from his position as Besson and Howie did the same from the opposite gallery. His first shot felt like a sledgehammer hitting his shoulder, having held his aim the entire time Morganstern was talking. The shot punched through his side armor. But even having lost his shield and standing on death’s door, Ram-head shrugged off enough firepower to take out a whole platoon, charging forward with his pole axe faster than anyone that size ought to move. Debris and rubble leapt out of his way like a shockwave traveling before the man.

  Rather than charging the woman with the shield, his eyes snapped up to Cole. He must have recognized Cole because he screamed in rage and vaulted up to the second level, weapon raised overhead. Cole threw himself back away from the axe head as it cleaved straight through the floor where he’d been standing.

  “You trapped me here!” the man snarled. “I will kill you!”

  Cole angled his rifle upward and aimed for the gap in Ram-head’s helmet, but the man put up his gauntlet and the rounds sparked off. One went through at the wrist, and another at the elbow, causing the armored giant to scream out in pain before swinging his axe with the other hand.

  It gave Cole just enough time to fling himself from the second-level gallery, trusting his reduced fall speed to save him from breaking anything important. Somehow, he managed to get a new magazine into his gun before he hit the deck. But he didn’t have time to fire as a huge shadow had eclipsed the light from the high windows. He scrambled out of the way, and the falling giant shattered the tiles underneath where Cole had landed. When he swung his axe again, Roxy was there with her shield, and with a sizzling burst of white light, the axe rebounded with even greater force. Ram-head was pulled nearly all the way around, but he reached out with the other hand, striking Roxy on the side with a closed fist that sent her sprawling. Nutmeg tried to assist, but an armored boot sent the dog into a column, and then Ram-head stepped in front of Roxy to keep Cole from helping her.

  Howie and Besson continued pouring what ammo they had left into the man, while the injured Han fired his sidearm.

  “I’m out!” called Ken.

  More and more shots had penetrated the invader’s armor, but the man was so gassed up by rage and hatred that it hardly slowed him. He wound up for another swing, and there was no getting out of reach this time. If he tried to jump up or away, Ram-head would cut him out of the air. The only way left was forward.

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  It’s not possible, thought Cole as he threw himself at the armored giant. Ram-head’s exposed eye opened in surprise as Cole launched himself low on the massive warrior’s waist, wrapping his arms around the man’s armored legs. The axe swing went wide, but Ram-head caught the other end of the haft with his mangled off-hand and began to squeeze the haft against Cole’s back plate, driving the wind from him. Cole burned both charges of his ability and pushed.

  Despite the differences in weight, both of them left the ground. Bolstered by Meteoric Leap, the two flew up, only about a third the height as Cole had managed before, but it was enough to get the giant to loosen his grip in shock, and Cole used that to pull his sidearm and fire point blank into Ram-head’s abdomen. The concussion probably wasn’t dangerous to the armored giant, but it pushed Cole out from under the haft of the poleaxe and knocked him away. The two started falling, separately, towards the ground again, with Ram-head reaching for Cole and grabbing only air.

  “Roxy!” Shouted Cole. He couldn’t see her, but Ram-head was falling straight for her. He hoped she still had a charge of her shield ability left.

  Cole felt the pop, pop, of two abilities activating one after another—her shield and her healing class turbo-charging her Resilience for barely more than a second. It was enough, as the massive form of Ram-head hit the shield with a flash of white light. The shockwave from the meteoric leap, absorbed, amplified, and redirected back through the shield, sent the armored man through the air and straight through one of the thick stone beams holding up the gallery beneath Howie and Besson. Cole hit the ground, face down, and watched with one eye as the two scrambled out of the collapsing portion of the gallery.

  Bricks and wood and stone slab cascaded down, piling atop the form of the armored giant. Cole pushed himself to his feet, choking on the dust and debris the collapse had kicked up into the air.

  “Woo!” shouted Howie, from the upper level. “Level ten!”

  Eleven, thought Cole, shivering from the brief rush.

  Roxy joined him, chest heaving with exertion. She looked over at him, glaring. “Next time you do something like that, warn me, first.” She looked over at the pile of debris that had fallen on the armored figure. “I can’t believe that worked. I thought I was going to die.”

  “I’ve been saying that for the last three days,” said Cole.

  Roxy smiled, put a hand on his shoulder, and then started to laugh. Cole tapped his helmet against hers, completely exhausted and feeling like he could barely move.

  “All right, get a room, you two,” said Morganstern, limping up and pushing them aside. “Clear the area.”

  A few short minutes later, a blue mote of light appeared in the air. Morganstern pulled a radio from her belt and spoke into it, pressing it against her ear to hear the reply. At another word, the portal expanded into a swirling plane of energy. Ken helped Han through first, followed by Besson carrying a shrunk-down Nutmeg (whose wagging tail betrayed the pained look on her face), and then Morganstern waved through the rest of them.

  “What about Nona?” asked Roxy, just before stepping across the threshold.

  “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about her,” said Morganstern. “They’re going to keep the portal open, and if she’s not here in the next few hours, another team is already prepping to sortie.”

  “Want me to stay?” asked Cole.

  Morganstern laughed in his face. “You’re dead on your feet, Airborne. Don’t think you’re useful just ‘cause you made it here with my help,” she said. But she winked. “Not bad, though. Go home.”

  Cole nodded and stepped through the portal with Roxy.

  Three days in Curahee was more than enough.

  As his world was consumed by the swirling mass of energy, a voice whispered in the back of his mind.

  “Come play for me again.”

  * * *

  Morganstern watched the exhausted tryouts trudge through the portal, assault bags stuffed with otherworld loot and ready to become the newest Kickers in the department. But, still, Kickers none-the-less. Even with Bart’s untimely death and her debilitation, they were five for seven on a tryout that averaged over 75% dropout over the three to five days. It seemed they had a bumper crop on their hands, and the tryout wasn’t over yet.

  Morganstern raised her voice as she walked over to pick up the discarded pole-axe. “You can come down now. I know you can hear me.”

  A line of knotted rope dropped down from the windows at the top of a vault, and a slender figure in a dark green poncho slid down and dropped to the shattered tiles.

  “You could have come down and helped before, you know,” said Morganstern.

  Nona Keeton shrugged. “Not my forte.”

  Eying a conspicuous lack of any visible weapons, Morganstern couldn’t argue with that. The girl’s special circumstances made her something of a wildcard. “What level did you get to?”

  “Twelve,” said Nona. She didn’t volunteer her class or subclass, and since she was never going to be on one of Morganstern’s teams, the mid-level Kicker didn’t pry or particularly care. She’d spotted the girl a few times in the Hold, blending in with the locals as though she’d been born there. Morgan wasn’t sure if she’d been at the town waiting for them, or if she’d tailed the group while she was unconscious. The girl had gotten level twelve, and something told Morgan none of that experience had come from a standup fight.

  Nona made her way over to the collapsed area of the gallery, pulling away brick and plaster until she found Ram-head’s body. She stared at it for a moment, then removed his helmet and put her hands on his cheeks. The pile of bricks collapsed in on itself. Nona stood up, holding the helmet. The rest of the body had vanished.

  Morganstern straightened. “Humans don’t vanish like monsters. Where’d he go?”

  “He was monster enough. He’s home, now.” Nona sneered. “Let’s see how they like the fungal fever wherever he’s from.”

  Nona was a very scary girl. Still, six for seven, now. She nodded to the portal and followed Nona back to Virginia.