Murder of Crows (Book One of The Icarus Trilogy) (3 page)

“Well, what can you do?”  Cortes said before sniffing and looked at his grenade belt.  They were the leading cause of death in the games.  Most soldiers armed grenades just before dying just to see if they could take anyone with them.

“Yeah, I took ‘em out and then headed this way.  Guess I’m a free agent today,” Roberts said before standing up and looking to his new destination.

“Guess so,” Cortes said before slumping down to the floor.  He wasn’t going to move unless Feldman asked him, but he wasn’t going to stop Roberts from doing anything.  The boy soldier could die however he wanted. 

 -

It would be fair to say that Jenkins was stressed.  He had gone into today’s battle with the impression that he had garnered enough experience; that the tension from pretend warfare would no longer affect him.

This was not the case.

After they had landed in the drop zone his partner just sprinted away and Jenkins had done what he could to follow her as she ran.  Abrams was far more experienced and far more aggressive than Jenkins could ever really be.  She was the only woman on the Crows and as a result she had to work harder.

But she didn’t do it for them.  She did it for herself.

After five minutes of jogging Abrams huddled behind a ridge and motioned for Jenkins to follow.  The young soldier couldn’t help but hunch down and join the soldier in front of him.  Abrams had a revolver in her holster but at that moment she was holding a razor-sharp knife in her left hand.  When Jenkins reached the woman’s side she put her right index finger to her lips.

Abrams wasn’t especially happy that she was paired with the new soldier.  She hated babysitting and this Jenkins didn’t seem to be more than a child in power armor.  She turned back from telling him to be silent and raised her head above the cover of the ridge.  There were two enemy combatants right in front of her and Abrams had to hold in the disgusted sigh coming from her chest; the two Boars were just strolling through the war zone.  These men didn’t belong on the battlefield.

In any case she appreciated her luck.  These two kills would garner a hefty bonus for the match and it wouldn’t be as difficult to buy back her freedom.  That was all that mattered to the woman.  She just wanted to get back to her sister and her former life.  It would only be a dozen or so matches without dying and she could be on a space travel back to Earth.  Back to Earth, her father and Rebecca.

When the soldiers passed by her Abrams crept over the ridge and soundlessly walked over to the soldier on the left.  Abrams took care as she stepped in the gaps between the trash and the metal.  When she was within a meter of the two men, an artillery shell blew up in the distance.

She knew it would be her best chance.

Abrams planted her feet and then sprang at the man on the left.  She brought her right hand up and grasped at the bottom edge of the Boar’s helmet and snapped the head back.  She didn’t let the man say a word before she plunged her knife into his throat and pulled outwards.  The blood sprayed from the new opening and covered the grey and black landscape with red droplets.  She finished the man and left him gurgling as the other soldier turned to meet her.  She could sense his panic as he brought up his automatic to ward off this new predator.

Abrams’ face was empty of emotion as she kicked away the man’s weapon with her right foot and fell into a rush attack.  The momentum of the strike was enough for the man to turn his back to her and Abrams thrust her knife into the man’s upper back near the spine.  She could see the man straighten up with the pain and Abrams almost regretted the action.  The warrior didn’t fight like this to cause more agony.  Abrams twisted the knife and brought the blade across the spine; cutting the nervous tissue like it was nothing.  The man immediately fell to the ground bleeding heavily.  Abrams leaned down and brought the blade across the man’s throat so that death would come sooner.  As he died she had to remind herself why she had forged herself into this kind of warrior.

Only a dozen games without dying and she could make it back to her home.

It didn’t matter how impossible it was.  It didn’t matter if people would laugh at her for thinking she could make it off Eris.  None of that mattered.  She took Warner’s achievements to heart.  She just needed to square off her debts and then she would be back to Rebecca; the debts she had gained from paying for her sister’s gene therapy would be gone.  These two men were just stepping stones.  Their pain was regrettable, but she was going to make it back.  They were not going to stop her.

“That was impressive,” she heard from the ridge behind her.  She turned to see Jenkins holding his rifle and advancing towards her.  “They didn’t even see it coming.”  Abrams looked at the soldier and did nothing to hold back her sigh.

“That was the point, kid.  I’m not going to waste a bullet if I can cut out their throats,” she said before turning and walking off towards the northeast.  She didn’t want to speak to the rookie; he was nothing.  He was probably just another convict or another kid hoping to make money off the games.

Jenkins shrugged and breathed out deeply.  He would have to prove himself before she looked at him with anything but disdain.  The young Crow followed after her; knowing that it would take some time to win the woman over.

It was another half an hour before they ran into anything noteworthy.  The war-torn landscape filled with scattered sightings of rotting clones dead from other games was somewhat disturbing, but the lack of combat was more unnerving to the new soldier.  Jenkins was constantly guessing that over the next ridge there would be a number of Boars ready and willing to take his life.  His apprehension came to an end as Abrams was jogging along and then quickly fell to the ground.  Jenkins was confused at first; he hadn’t heard a sound, but as Abrams scrambled to cover on her right she frantically waved at him to get down, as well.  He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that she hadn’t been shot but then followed her to the ground and crawled over to the veteran.

When he reached her position she looked back at him and seemed to be breathing heavily.  He wondered what her expression was like underneath the mask.  He wondered if she even looked nervous.

“There’s two about thirty meters ahead of us.  I think they might have seen me, but I haven’t heard anything.  We might be able to sneak around them.  Do you think you can keep your dumb ass from fucking up?” she asked with mild annoyance.  Jenkins didn’t know.  In New Chicago it was all about bravado and claiming the best crimes; he didn’t know much about keeping quiet.

“I can try,” Jenkins said without confidence.  Abrams sighed at the man but then turned to ready herself for what was coming.

“It’ll have to fucking do,” she said before bringing out her revolver.  She wasn’t going to bring a knife to fight a pair of riflemen.  She sprang out of cover and instantly cursed herself.  The two riflemen were still standing off to the left where she had left them, but there were two other soldiers to her right which had just noticed her appearance.  She knew that staying in this position would yield her death even if she ducked down behind cover again.  She jumped and ran forward into the shooting gallery.  Her only hope was to reach the dugout fifteen meters ahead of her.

Abrams was running along as she realized that she had left Jenkins behind without a word.  The new guy was probably going to die.  She could feel the bullets hitting the ground around her and heating up the air as they streaked in front and behind her.  She thumbed the button for Comms as she prayed that she would make it to the dugout in front of her.

“This is Abrams and Jenkins.  Shit has gone down and we’re up against four.  Probably not going to make it.  Would appreciate the assist,” she yelled as she ran.  The dugout was only two meters away, now, and she didn’t think the Boars would allow her much more time to appreciate her life.  She dove at the hole and wondered if she would die airborne.

Abrams hit the ground hard and rolled into the ditch.  It hurt but she knew that there weren’t any bullets lodged in her body.  That was always a good thing.  She thought about what she was going to do with herself all alone surrounded by four soldiers when she heard a second impact behind her.  Jenkins had somehow made it to the position with her and rolled down to the bottom of the dugout.  She was impressed that he hadn’t been shredded by bullets; she had fully expected that she wouldn’t make it, either.  It didn’t change anything, though.  The two of them would probably die here surrounded by false earth.

Jenkins turned to the senior soldier.  She was cursing under her breath.  No need to broadcast that over Comms.  Jenkins couldn’t see her face through her helmet but assumed she was scowling at him; she scowled at everyone.  It was hard to tell when she was actually upset, but Jenkins guessed this was one of those situations.  He spoke up over the private line, his voice squeaking as he did so.

“So, what now?”  Abrams looked over at him and he could almost feel her disdain for him.  She was so annoyed that when a frag grenade landed in their dugout she just grabbed it and threw it back over her shoulder.  A grenade was less impressive to her than Jenkins’ behavior.  Whatever respect she was starting to gain for the boy soldier, she still didn’t like to answer stupid questions.  He should have known that she had no clue.

“Well, we call for back-up, unless you have any better ideas, dumbass.”  Jenkins craned his neck and imagined what was happening beyond their cover.  The shattered wasteland was wreaking havoc on his radar.

“Well…,” Jenkins started, but he was quickly interrupted.

“That was rhetorical, you cock-knobbler.”  Abrams sighed and shifted in her mechanical armor.  The standard issue allowed for greater strength and mobility, but it was quite uncomfortable.  The heat was stifling under Abrams’ helmet and she just wanted it to be an hour from now.  She wanted the match over and to be safe in the barracks.  She wanted to talk to her sister.

She really wanted the kid to stop bugging her while she was trying to think, too.  She opened the team channel and pinged their location.

“This is Abrams.  Jenkins and I made it to cover but we’re under fire from both flanks and need assistance.  Broadcast when en route.”  She left the channel open while bullets flew past their cover.  Dirt and rocks fell down the ridge as countless shells sank into the false earth above them.  There was no broadcast from their teammates.

Abrams looked back at her partner.  He was looking expectantly back at her.  She couldn’t blame him for that; she had just barked at him for speaking.  The warrior woman tried to figure out how they could get out of their position.  Every scenario had a grisly and inevitable conclusion.

All she wanted to do was get back in Norris’ bed.  She could pretend she wasn’t on this rotten asteroid when she felt some warmth beside her.  Her thoughts turned back to the message she’d left for her sister that morning.  She resolved to herself again that she would get off this asteroid at all costs.  The gladiator didn’t want atmospheric interference to be the reason she couldn’t talk to her sister.  Abrams turned her head up at the rookie.

“Ok, kid.  It’s not going to be long before those bastards realize they can just cook the grenades and I won’t be able to throw it back.  We have to get out of here.  What we’re going to do is we’re going to rush over this mound and shoot every motherfucker we see.  Try to focus in that direction, though,” she said as she nodded to her right.  “We’re gonna try to use their cover against those other assholes.  You might die, I might die, but it’s the best we can hope for.”  She waited for him to object.

“Well, we all have to die eventually.  Might as well get the first one out of the way,” Jenkins said as he checked his rifle and looked at the red crow emblazoned on his upper arm.  It seemed like the man was already saying goodbye to this body.   Abrams was somewhat shocked by the rookie’s response.  She decided she liked the kid but it was far too early to let him know it.

“Alright, on my mark,” Abrams said before grabbing the grenade from her belt.  It was a chaff grenade; outright killing them was less important.  She just wanted to scramble their sensors enough for the two of them to have a chance.  She pulled the pin and started cooking the grenade.  Before she threw it she sent one last message over Comms.

“Sorry ‘bout the cock-knobbler, Jenkins.”  She threw the grenade and prayed they weren’t ready.  Norris’ bed wasn’t going to warm itself.

-

Roberts got there way too late.  He had heard Abrams’ message over Comms and had broken out into a full-out sprint to their beacons; he must have been going over thirty kilometers an hour.  Even with his sprinting prowess he was still a hundred meters from the dugout when he saw the grenade float up into the air and sail towards two of the Boars.  Abrams had timed it perfectly and it burst into light a few feet from the ground.

The Boars didn’t take too kindly to having to deal with the enormous amount of static on their visor outputs.  They opened fire haphazardly in the general direction of Abrams and Jenkins.  Fortunately for the two Crows the erratic gunfire forced the soldiers behind them to take cover.

Abrams took care of one source fairly quickly.  She took aim with her revolver and sent a bullet into the man’s ribcage.  The high-caliber weapon was more than enough to power through the plates of armor covering the man’s vital areas.  He screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

One problem still remained, however, and the chaff grenade’s effects weren’t going to last forever.  Jenkins tried to take up as little room as possible as he lined up his shot.  He brought the rifle up to his shoulder and framed the soldier inside the crosshairs.  The young soldier breathed out and pulled the trigger.

The bullet flew towards the Boar just as the static cleared from his visuals.  The poor soldier only had time enough to see the Crow’s muzzle flare.  He went to touch his neck as warm blood flowed out of the wound.  As he fell the gladiator had time enough to wonder if he was fainting.

While it was certainly a good thing that they had removed the two soldiers from the field, the lack of gunfire was enough for the other two Boars to pop up from cover.  Roberts only had enough time to yell over Comms before they started firing.