SHIAM Conspiracy- Book 1 (29 page)

Even at the increased speed Megan moved in
complete silence through the woods. Zak kept pace with her and
managed to be nearly as quiet, but at the speed they were
travelling his Elvish abilities downgraded somewhat. Even though
his skill at stealth was still considerably higher than that of a
full-blooded Human, Megan turned a disapproving glare upon him at
each small sound he made. And each time he glared right back at
her, not appreciating what he interpreted as an attitude of Elvish
superiority.

They caught up with the Kaboles just as they
were closing on the cabin. It was difficult to tell just how many
of the fictional beings there actually were as Zak caught only
brief glimpses of them through the trees ahead. The best he could
calculate was that there now appeared to be at least a couple
dozen. If the Rules of Engagement were turned off as Zak suspected
they were, then his team was in a great deal of danger!

They followed more cautiously now. Zak could
think of no safe plan to handle these made-up monsters. He wondered
what the game skill levels of these Kaboles might be. He hoped they
were on a lower level of play, but he had no way of telling. He
tried to remember the last time he’d played a sword and sorcery
game, but it had been a good long time ago.

A sudden scream pierced the quiet of the
forest. The inhuman sound, a cry of surprise mixed with pain, came
from up ahead of them. It had been cut short, in mid-scream, and
Zak was pretty sure it had been a death cry. He was also pretty
certain that it had come from one of the Kaboles. It had taken him
only a split second to determine these things. In the next second
much shouting and yelling filled the air. He could see the Kaboles
scrambling for cover in the distance. He and Megan did the same,
plunging into the dense brush that lined the trail. As they took
cover, Zak heard another of the Kaboles shout out in pain. This
creature didn’t go silent like the first, but continued to call
out, begging for help from what Zak could tell. His comrades, now
safely tucked behind trees, didn’t seem too keen on the idea of
exposing themselves just now in order to give their companion any
aid.

“Is that Captain Mashkkha with the bow?”
Megan asked in whispered amazement.

“Apparently,” Zak replied. They were too far
away, with too many trees between them and the cottage, for him to
be able to make out any details. “I didn’t think he had the talent.
Two quick shots like that - both hits. Must be a good thirty meters
from the cottage to the tree line.”

The wounded Kabole continued to call out to
his comrades, his pleas for help sounding pathetic even in his
harsh language.

As Zak scanned the scene ahead, he could feel
his Adrenalin pumping. The situation was not good. Game or no game,
they were heavily outnumbered and couldn’t reach the cottage
without having to circle around and approaching from the rear.
There was no way they could make their way through the dense forest
and reach Mashkkha and Harry in time.

“It’s not going to take them long to figure
out there is only one shooter in the cottage,” he said. “Once they
do, they will rush the cabin. You have any magic tricks up your
sleeve?”

“It will be difficult with all these trees,”
Megan said. “We must get closer. And even then, I am not sure how
much I can do with so many of them.”

Zak nodded his understanding and they began
to slowly work their way closer. Fortunately, the Kaboles all
seemed to be fully focused on the cottage, so they were able to get
quite close without being noticed. Zak could now see several of the
squat, ugly creatures hiding on either side of the trail. He could
also see the two Kaboles that Mashkkha had shot, lying just beyond
the tree line. The first was dead, an arrow sticking out of his
chest. The second was writhing in pain as he continued to call out
to his companions, an arrow protruding from the center of his
abdomen.

“Do you have anything that will take out a
group?” Zak whispered.

“Nothing that I can be sure of,” Megan
whispered back. “Sorcery such as that requires specialized
training. I have studied the subject in principal, but have never
practiced it.”

He looked first at Megan’s short sword, then
at his own long sword and shook his head. “I really don’t need this
sword fighting crap!” he said under his breath. “A pulse pistol
would be nice right about now.”

Megan looked over at him, a hard smile on her
face. “I thought you were Te’n Kha. You should be well trained with
the sword.”

“Not for more than twenty-to-one odds,” Zak
snorted softly. “Besides, that training was a long time ago. And my
military career did not afford much opportunity for swordplay. Now,
if you want to talk automatic weapons or rocket launchers, that’s
another story.”

A flurry of arrows suddenly arched up through
the air from the tree line in front of them, driving into the log
siding of the cabin with a rapid staccato sound that echoed through
the trees. The first volley of arrows was quickly followed by
another. The Kaboles were attempting to keep any shooters inside
the building pinned down, which meant they were probably near ready
to make their move. As the next volley flew, a group of the digital
raiders broke from the trees and charged toward the cottage.

“No!” Megan cried out. She leaped into the
pathway and stretched her right arm out in front of her. As she
called out in the ancient language of Elves, a burst of energy
exploded from her outstretched palm and several Kaboles were struck
down as they ran.

Zak looked after her, anxiety over her safety
knotting his gut.

“
Iliadha una!”
she repeated the Elvish
phrase and another burst of energy lashed out, dropping three more
of the Kaboles.

Her third incantation was noticeably weaker.
Only one Kabole fell. The fourth missed its mark completely as
Megan doubled over with exhaustion. There were at least twenty of
the creatures left within the forest and their attention was now
fully upon Megan. With a piercing cry they streamed onto the path
and back towards where she stood.

“Oh, crap!” Zak lunged onto the path so that
he stood between Megan and the charging hoard.

As he braced for the approaching onslaught,
he saw another arrow arch into the air from the window of the
cabin. Unfortunately, it missed its target and before Mashkkha
could get off another shot, a volley of return fire came from those
Kaboles who were advancing upon the cabin.

There was no more time for observation as the
Kaboles met Zak with a flurry of swordplay. He quickly discovered
that the digital creatures were well above a first level skill set.
In spite of his advantage of wielding a longer sword and the narrow
trail that kept the Kaboles bunched together, it was all Zak could
do to fend them off. Their sharp blades came at him in short
vicious strokes. He quickly lost track of Megan as he parried one
blade then blocked another. There was a brief opening, no more than
an instant of opportunity, and Zak managed to take it. His blade
sliced across one Kabole’s stomach, opening him up from side to
side. He quickly cleared his sword in time to parry yet another
blade, but his timing was off. He felt a burning pain in his side
and then his body suddenly felt icy cold as all went black.

“
W
hat the frag were you trying to do, kill
us!”

Zak’s awareness returned to him disoriented
and confused.

Nausea was his only certainty, his stomach
pushing against his throat with unyielding persistence. A deep
aching sensation seemed to consume every nerve in his body. He felt
as though he’d been used as a dragon’s play toy. Someone gasped
with pain in the distance and he was able to recognize it as Harry
Mather’s voice. He fought to clear his head and focus on his
surroundings, but both his head and his eyes refused to cooperate.
He heard Megan and Captain Mashkkha as they simultaneously demanded
to know what the hell was going on, but he couldn’t identify who
they were shouting at. Megan’s voice seemed to be inside his head,
while Mashkkha’s was coming from some great distance... That
couldn’t be right.

He felt a gentle touch at his side, then
stabbing pain!

“Sorry!” the sweet sound of Megan’s voice
came from close by, but no longer seemed to be echoing within his
skull.

“We had to get you out of there for your own
good.” The cold quality of the voice denied any real concern. Zak
still couldn’t identify the speaker. Who was Megan talking to?

“Oh, for our own good,” Megan spat back, her
words reflecting her anger. “You nearly killed us, you ass!”

“The virtual space was becoming unstable.
There was no choice but to take the risk,”

Zak again attempted to focus his eyes.
Everything was blurred and distant, like he was looking through the
wrong end of binoculars that were out of focus. Then things
gradually cleared. He was sitting in the dimly lit upper office of
Tanner’s Warehouse, still at the computer terminal where he’d been
sitting when he and the others had entered virtuality. This time,
he was happy to note, there was only one version of himself in the
room.

He locked his vision upon Megan’s petite
frame, using her to center his awareness. She was tending to his
side, while at the same time arguing with the cold voiced man. Her
hands were warm against his skin. She looked pale and concerned.
The reason she was fussing over him confused him, but he didn’t
much care at the moment, as long as she was there with him and
safe. Who was the jerk she was arguing with?

He began to drift again. The arguing faded to
background noise, although he recognized Mashkkha’s strong voice at
some point. Then the memory of Harry’s wounds suddenly came back to
him. Concern pulled him back to the cramped room again. He tried to
call out to Megan, but his mouth didn’t seem to work. His concern
for the Wizard grew as he looked over to the empty seat where Harry
had been sitting during their virtual mission. He attempted to call
out again, as his anxiety for the wizard grew. One word finally
managed to slip out...weak...barely audible. “Harry.”

“Harry is alive,” Megan assured him. “Just
barely. The paramedics are working on him.”

“What... What happened?” The words came a
little easier this time.

“Your boneheaded friend nearly killed us by
yanking us out of virtuality!” Megan said with more than a little
hostility.

Friend
, he tried to focus.

“...told you, it was necessary!”

It took Zak several seconds to connect the
truculent voice to Dorjan Vennhim. What the frag was Vennhim doing
here?

He shifted in his seat, attempting to get out
of the chair. A sharp jabbing pain in his right side stopped him
cold.

“Do not try to move,” Megan said firmly.
“Your body has taken on the wounds you received in virtuality. A
sword wound here on your side. Your shoulder is badly bruised and
your head has a nasty gash.”

He looked down to where Megan’s delicate
fingers were working on his side. The wound was already covered
with gauze, but there was a significant amount of blood soaked into
his t-shirt, which was folded up above the wound. Then he
remembered. One of the Kaboles had gotten in a lucky strike just as
the world dropped out from under him. He touched the bandages
gingerly and winced. The pain confirmed that the Rules of
Engagement had not been working. He attempted again to get up, this
time more slowly. Then the dizziness grew worse, his vision
blurring once more; he felt that he was in danger of losing
consciousness again.

“I said to stay put!” Megan’s irritated voice
drew him back to the moment.

He focused upon her as she finished bandaging
his side and then stood defiantly to face Vennhim. In spite of her
defiant attitude, she seemed weak, as though she was calling upon
the last of her energy. Her complexion appeared pale, the dim light
promoting a sickly pallor. But she was still beautiful in spite of
it all. How could he ever tell her about his involvement with her
father? Sadness threatened to consume him in his diminished state
of mind. Suddenly nothing mattered to him but to make things right
with Megan. No! She was Elf...can’t do it. Then he became aware of
Vennhim standing there as smug and emotionless as ever.

“What the frag are you doing here!” Zak was
surprised at how weak his own voice sounded. He refused to allow
any sign of weakness in front of Vennhim. He attempted to raise
himself out of the chair. The wound at his side combined with his
throbbing head and shoulder to persuade him otherwise. He flopped
back down in the chair...cursing.

“I told you to stay put!” Megan said angrily.
“Besides your wounds, you most likely have a concussion and you are
suffering from metabolic shock from being pulled out of virtuality
without the proper exit protocols.”

Of course, that would explain Megan’s sickly
appearance as well. They were pulled out of virtual space without
the proper protocols. He vaguely remembered what had happened in
those last seconds in virtuality. He was lucky he was not injured
more severely. His mistake had been attempting to glance in Megan’s
direction during the heat of the battle, to check that she was all
right. That foolishness nearly cost him his life.

In spite of Megan’s hostility towards
Vennhim, the truth was that he probably had saved all their lives
by pulling them out when he did. Of course, Zak was no more
inclined to admit to that than Megan was.

Mashkkha’s voice cut into his thoughts once
again. Zak located him standing off to the side of the room,
clearly unhappy about something. He was in a heated argument with a
man Zak thought he should know, but the recognition failed him.
Several other suits wandered around the office, self-importance
exuding from their collective selves, as they carried out what
appeared to be a search of the small office. He instantly
identified them as ASID. None of Mashkkha’s men were to be
seen.