The Seryys Chronicles: Of Nightmares Page 22

  As he charged out, he heard a scream that was so primal, so wild, that his blood ran cold. Suddenly, the firing stopped and he knew he had his chance! Crying a war cry, he came out from his cover spot and fired off three shots. Each shot connected with a completely distracted guard or Vyysarri. As they fell dead, Dah stopped to see what everyone was staring at.

  He saw Khai, Danyarr in his grasp, pulling the on poor man’s right leg and neck. With a growl of rage—it was more than that, Dah knew, but couldn’t find another word to describe it—Khai ripped the man in half at the waist. Blood and viscera rained down on Khai and Danyarr continued to scream. The howl that Khai made scared everyone on the landing pad to the point of paralysis… even the Vyysarri Warriors that ambushed them. Khai finished the job by throwing the two pieces of Danyarr over the ledge of the landing pad several stories to the ground.

  When Khai spun around, blood and gore running down his face and clothes, he said two words: “Who’s next?”

  In the stunned silence, no one made a move. Khai growled low, blood and spittle dripping from his lips with each breath. Dah had never seen that look. It was a wild, feral look that, for the first time ever since he’d known Khai, actually scared him. Instantly, he was grateful that the baleful gaze didn’t fall on him, but on the remaining combatants.

  Khai stalked over to his gun, which was lying at the feet of a dead Vyysarri and nonchalantly put four bullets into four Vyysarri heads. As their bodies hit the floor, the rest fled for whatever protection they could find. Some even jumped off the ledge hoping to catch a flagpole or another ledge on the way down. It seemed that even falling to their deaths was preferable to being torn in half...

  …Or worse.

  There was no telling if Khai would up the ante for his next victim.

  After they had all fled, Dah cautiously approached Khai, whose shoulders were still heaving with each breath he took.

  “Khai?” Dah said quietly as to not startle him. “Khai, ol’ buddy. You still with us?”

  Khai snapped out of whatever trance he was in and blinked his eyes for the first time in what seemed like several tense minutes. “Yes. We need to get going. First, we need to get Chuumdar the proof he needs and then…” Khai had already done the math, one life to save millions. He was willing to make that sacrifice. He was sure that Brindee would agree, that her life wasn’t worth sacrificing millions.

  “Then what?” Dah asked his friend, seeing the concern in his eyes.

  “Then we need to save Brindee before it’s too late.”

  “Wait! What?” Dah demanded. “What’s wrong with Brindee? I thought she was fine!”

  “Danyarr said she wasn’t safe, and that I would only have time to save either her or the peace we have with the Vyysarri.”

  “Then take my ship right now! We’ll deal with Chuumdar,” Dah offered.

  “No!” he snapped, then composed himself. “No. The meeting with Chuumdar won’t be long.”

  As Dah and Khai moved for the lift doors, Sibrex came down the loading ramp with the Alarrs. They waited for the doors to open. When they did, a contingent of guard came pouring out, guns drawn, led by the Prime Minister himself. They all stopped dead in their tracks when the saw Khai covered in blood and guts.

  “We got here as quickly as possible,” he said, trying to look at anything but Khai. “Danyarr had the place locked down, it took our best programmer to crack the code just to get the bloody… er… damned doors to even open!”

  “It’s fine,” Khai said. “We took care of it.”

  “Where is Captain Danyarr?”

  “Have you checked the courtyard?” Khai answered sarcastically with a question.

  Puar looked past him to Dah who shook his head, grimacing and mouthing “no.”

  “Listen,” Khai said urgently, “We don’t have much time. Let’s get this over with so I can save my wife!”

  “What are you talking about?” the Prime Minister asked, following Khai into the lift. The others scrambled into the lift with them.

  “Danyarr said my wife wasn’t safe and that Stiprox knew where she was.”

  “Stiprox? Not Warthol?” Prime Minister Puar was thoroughly confused. “Danyarr was working for a Vyysarri?”

  “Yeah,” Khai growled, hitting the button for the Honorifical Office. “Convenient, huh.”

  “You think they’re working together?”

  Khai shrugged. “If they’re not, then they’ve got their noses in each other’s business.”

  “And things are much worse than we thought,” the world leader added grimly.

  “Yep,” Khai agreed.

  They all made it down to Prime Minister Puar’s office. Though the reunion was bittersweet for the Alarrs, there were pressing matters that needed to be addressed immediately. The actual reunion would have to wait until the young lieutenant’s parents were incarcerated. Khai was toweling off the best he could as he entered the main circle where Chuumdar’s holographic image stood, waiting stoically. His hard expression softened ever so slightly at the sight of both Khai and Sibrex.

  “Ah, ambassador Khail, Commander Sibrex. It is good to see you both alive and well.”

  “Prefect,” Sibrex’s low voice rumbled as he bowed his head slightly.

  “Likewise,” Khai responded. “Prefect, I must be brief. There has been threat on Brindee’s life that I am taking very seriously, so I’m leaving the details to be explained by my team here.”

  “She’s alive?” Chuumdar asked, genuine surprise in his tone.

  “Yes. Apparently Stiprox has found out. So I have to leave now. I leave you in the capable hands of my friends.”

  “If you trust them, I trust them,” Chuumdar rumbled. “Safe travels, Ambassador Khail.”

  “Thank you, prefect.”

  Khai sprinted to the lift, tapped his foot impatiently as the lift went down to ground level, ran through the Hall of Justice, pulled his com unit out and made a call as he ran. He had a friend who would be more than happy to help. In fact, she probably already had helped him with his wife.

  “Little Khai. I can’t say I’m surprised to hear from you.”

  “I would imagine you wouldn’t be, seeing as how my wife is a patient at your hospital.”

  “That was kind of a dead giveaway,” the lady’s voice was full of warmth. “What else can I do for you, Khai?”

  “I need a lift,” he said bluntly. “And you need to step up security. Brindee is in danger, the Resistance knows she’s there.”

  “That’s not good, Khai.”

  “You’re telling me! When can you have someone come get me?”

  “I’ve already dispatched a Medical Response Ship. Should be there in a few minutes.”

  “You’re a doll, Joon!” Khai said. “I’m at the Hall of Justice.”

  “I’ll have some warm pie for you when you get here.”

  “See you soon,” Khai said.

  Joon wasn’t kidding, the ship was there in under ten minutes. Most emergency response vehicles had a private sky lane dedicated specifically to them so that they could avoid any congestion. The ship lowered its landing skids and rested lightly on them. A ramp lowered and Khai sprinted up and straight for the cockpit.

  “Hit it!” Khai shouted to the pilot. “We’re on a time crunch.” The pilot looked back, saw Khai’s blood-soaked clothes and did a double-take. “Move it!” Khai yelled.

  “Y-yes, sir!”

  The pilot yanked back on the yoke and the ship shot for orbit. As they soared higher, Khai got a good look at Seryys City, the capital burned. He could see where local law enforcement, with aid from the military, were holding off the Reapers at the choke point into Seryys Heights. Though the majority of the city was overrun, the military had the Corporate Sector well-guarded and protected. Obviously, without the Corporate Sector, the whole area, including the military installation outside of the city would be without power. Still, as they got higher, Khai could see other cities shrouded in smoke. Tanbarder, Klome
haven and other even more distant cities were also being affected by Reapers. With everything going on involving Stiprox, Warthol, the Resistance on both sides, and the near miss of a second galactic war breaking out, it was almost too easy to forget that Seryys City was under siege by an overly-aggressive species of man-eating monsters. He supposed, once this was all over, he would have to help in ridding the planet of those monsters. But, that was for another day. There had to be a planet to save first. If things with the Vyysarri went south, all that would be a moot point.

  As they left the atmosphere, gravity hiccupped for a second as the ship’s artificial gravity kicked in. As he looked down at the now deceptively serene green and blue planet spinning lazily in the night, he realized how tired he was, both physically and emotionally. He’d been going nonstop basically for the week or so. It was time to freshen up and get a quick catnap.

  He turned to the pilot. “Do you have a decontam shower on board?”

  “Yes, sir,” the pilot said, jabbing a thumb toward the aft. “Aft, port side.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Of course.”

  “Notify me when we reach Seryys Four.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  His friends watched Khai run off to save his wife. Once he was gone, Sibrex stepped forward.

  “Permission to speak, Prefect,” he stated in his most diplomatic voice.

  “Granted,” Chuumdar grumbled.

  Sibrex explained the whole thing, from the falsified reports, to Lieutenant Alarr’s coercion, to the Alarrs’ betrayal. Chuumdar’s expression was as still as a statue. He included the events that happened just now—being attacked by Danyarr, who apparently was working for Stiprox. Sibrex couldn’t read him. Not even Prime Minister Puar could read him, and he was a skilled politician who prided himself on his ability to do just that. He cursorily thought he would hate to play derjik with him.

  Once all was said and done, Chuumdar withdrew to confer with his advisors and commanders. After about five agonizing minutes of deliberating, he spoke, “The cease-fire will remain…for now. But we will also be recalling our ships from the combined fleets for now. Though this information is convincing enough, I still have my doubts. Only time will tell. If no other attempts on my life occur for the next two months, you will have my confidence again.”

  “Fair enough, Prefect,” the Prime Minister agreed. “However, might I make an amendment to the deal?”

  “I will consider it.”

  “To ensure your safety, might I send some of my best, most trusted operatives to protect you?”

  “No,” Chuumdar said definitively and immediately. “I have my own guards, and clearly, I can handle myself. I do not want unnecessary, unknown people lurking about. I appreciate your concern, but it is unwarranted.”

  “Understood. Prime Minister Puar, out.”

  Khai relished the hot water running down his back. His clothes were stewing in a sanitizing solution next to the shower. Eventually, the automated system would ring them out and place them into an evaporator that would dry them. Gallons of blood-tainted water drained out into a waiting tank to be destroyed. Though relaxed for the first time since the last time he saw his wife, his thoughts still dwelled on her. What if he was too late? What if Joon’s people couldn’t stop it?

  “Making the jump to black space now,” the pilot’s voice came over the radio.

  The ship shuddered slightly, bucked once and they were there.

  “Touchdown in two minutes.”

  Khai shut off the water and toweled off. As he geared up, he readied himself for a fight. He knew that, if not already there, someone was coming for her. It was just a matter of when.

  Stiprox didn’t make empty threats…

  It was night when the ship descended onto the landing pad atop the hospital. The Seryys IV Joon Memorial Hospital was a brand new facility named after Khai’s friend Joon for her part in helping Khai rescue the Prime Minster from the Director of Planetary Affairs, Tran’Ri Trall. Prime Minister Puar even made her the administrator of the hospital.

  Joon was waiting for him as the ramp lowered. After a warm embrace, Joon led him inside. He followed her down to the third floor which was a recovery ward. The facility was very stark and utilitarian, a few pieces of art adorned the walls, but it was quite sterile. Though at the center of the hospital, there was a grand atrium that the first four floors could overlook. There was a calming garden with fountains and sitting areas where both employees and patients could sit and enjoy themselves. That was Joon’s contribution.

  “She was in pretty bad shape when they found her. The doctors on the Courage did a good job stabilizing her and patching her up. Our doctors have been monitoring her closely, but she is a tough one. They say she’ll make a full recovery.”

  “That’s good,” Khai murmured. “Is she conscious?”

  “No,” Joon said, punching in a code and entering a “restricted area.” “We’re keeping her in a medically-induced coma until her vitals level out.”

  “But I can still see her?” Khai asked, hopeful.

  “Of course,” Joon replied with a warm smile. “There are no visitors’ hours for you.”

  “Thanks, Joon,” Khai said sincerely. “For everything. I’ve been a real pain in your ass lately.”

  “Yeah, you have,” Joon said with a fake angry look.

  “So,” Khai began to ask. “How does one come by running a hospital?”

  “Well, seeing as how it was my idea to begin with was a good start. I may not know anything about medicine, or healthcare, but a hospital is a business, business I know. After decades of running my husband’s gun running business, I was more than qualified to run a legit one!”

  Khai fixed Joon with a mischievous, but loving grin as she ushered him into the room where his wife was recovering. He loved Joon, ever since he was a little boy. From the days of eating her homemade pies at the diner down the street from the plasterboard box in the alley in which he lived, to the few and far between visits—mostly out of necessity—to now, where he saw her frequently. She was, by far, the closest thing he had to a mother.

  The door slid shut behind him. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that filled the room. The shades were drawn, the lights were turned low. Soft light crept in from outside street lights between the slits in the blinds. Despite Brindee’s inability to be woken, he stealthily glided across the room to a chair next to the bed. She had multiple IVs in her arms. Wiring hung from the ceiling and disappeared beneath her hospital gown.

  He ever so gingerly slipped his massive hand underneath hers. It was warm to the touch; that surprised him because she looked, for all intents and purposes, dead. His hand engulfed hers as he brought it up to his lips and placed the most delicate kiss he could muster on it. He placed her hand back on her chest, rested his hand on top and rested his head on her lap. Every fiber of his being wanted her hand to come to a rest atop his head and run its fingers through his short hair. But it never happened. For the first time since he could remember in his adult life, he cried. No an open sob, but a silent lament that sent tears streaming down his nose onto the blanket keeping his beloved warm.

  Sleep took him. He awoke to sound of the door to their room opening. Instantly, his gun was drawn and pointing at the worn, but still warm features of Joon’s welcoming smile. The fact that a trembling, hand-held cannon was pointing at her face didn’t change her expression one iota.

  “Sorry,” Khai said, holstering his gun. “Just a little jumpy.”

  “And rightfully so,” she said without an ounce of anger or fear.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said softly. “Just came to see if you needed anything. You’ve been in here for a while.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “About an hour,” she answered. “You look terrible. Maybe you should get some rest, too.”

  “No!” Khai snapped, then retracted. “Uh. No… thank you. I’ll be
fine.”

  “Okay,” Joon said with a sigh, stepping closer. “I’m going home for the night. If you need anything, anything at all, just hit the call button and someone will be here in a heartbeat.”

  “Thanks again, Joon. I owe you a lot.”

  “No you don’t, son. You gave me this,” she whispered and motioned to the hospital around her.

  “It was the least I could do.”

  “Good night, Khai,” Joon whispered as she leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead just above the horizontal scar above his left eye.

  “Good night. Sleep well.”

  She walked to the door, it slid open, she left and it slid shut.

  The instant the door slid shut, there was a muffled thump of a bullet leaving a silenced muzzle and blood splattered against the opaque glass window. The bullet lodged into the metal door just below the window.

  It was everything he had not to let loose the guttural cry that was boiling up in his belly, but he knew that if this assassin was any good, he could pinpoint Khai’s exact location in the room—even through the sound dampening material of which the door was made. Khai quickly and quietly moved Brindee’s bed out of the line of fire, propped a small table on its side in the middle of the room for cover and then hid behind the door leading to the bathroom.

  The door hissed open and two muffled shots put two bullet holes straight through the table. Khai fought the urge to pop out from his hiding spot and pop the assassin’s head off with his bare hands. Clearly this assassin was an idiot; even the dumbest of contract killers could have seen the table in the center for what it was: a distraction. A single person cautiously stepped into the room and spotted Brindee along the wall opposite of Khai. The assassin was female, slender and fit, wearing all black. She turned her back to Khai and slowly moved toward Brindee.