Zero Site 1607 Page 15

  Better to focus on the present, he decided. Better to think about running. Better to simplify.

  The trail steepened and became more rugged, with big boulders occasionally forcing the runners to zig this way and that. The trees were thinning as well, with increasingly large gaps between them. The gain in altitude offered an improved view of the surrounding terrain. The ground fell away on either side of the trail, and Kettle realized that they were bifurcating a wide valley, or just cresting a ridge that split a wide valley into two smaller valleys. That wasn’t going to last long, though. He could see ahead where their ridgeline was going to buttress up against the side of a craggy set of blunted mountains.

  Gunfire ripped through the air behind and below them, causing Vasper to stop for the first time. Kettle almost ploughed into him and had to skid to a stop to avoid the impact. Haley pulled up with more grace.

  “Where’s Jovis?” Kettle asked.

  “He fell behind,” Haley replied. Kettle turned to Vasper, but the soldier didn’t look concerned at the missing pilot. Instead, Vasper’s dark brown eyes were scanning the vista for signs of the enemy. He reminded Kettle of a hawk searching for prey.

  More gunfire sang out in a series of controlled bursts, followed by an angry explosion, and then another one. All at once, birds emerged across the forest canopy and beat their wings for safer perches. Kettle saw tendrils of smoke rise from a patch of trees. This was followed by still more gunfire, and he was fairly certain he could pick out yells and screams between reports.

  Jovis appeared, huffing and puffing like a fat kid running to class after missing the bus. Sweat covered his red face and dampened his camo shirt between the straps of his backpack. “Oh, man,” he got out between breaths after he came to a stop next to Haley. He bent over and put his hands on his knees to stabilize himself. “That’s a tough climb.”

  Haley put a hand to his shoulder and said, “You all right?”

  He wiped his arm across his forehead and nodded. “Fine.” With effort, the pilot straightened himself out and turned to take stock of the firefight going on down the valley. Kettle pitied the poor guy. He was trained to sit in a cockpit and navigate Kye-shivs across planets. Out here on the trail, he was a fish out of water.

  After taking a few moments to recompose himself, Jovis took off his backpack, undid the top zipper and pulled out a shiny metal flask. The pilot unscrewed the top and raised it toward the sound of gunfire. “Hope you’re kicking some ass down there, Caurfo,” he said before taking a healthy swig.

  “Off the trail,” Vasper commanded. “Now.” The sergeant’s voice wasn’t loud or anxious, but it expressed urgency nonetheless. The three others turned to look at him. He had both hands over his eyebrows to shield his eyes from the sun, and he wasn’t looking at the area where smoke was still rising, no doubt thanks to Caurfo’s ambush. Instead, his eyes were focused on a point closer to the distant horizon. Kettle tried to follow the man’s line of sight, but saw nothing but flat farmland, a meandering river, some wooded groves and rows of tall hills in the background.

  “What are we looking for?”

  Vasper didn’t answer. He grabbed Kettle by one arm and Haley by the other and pushed them into the dry yellow grass and low shrubs. Once off the trail, he continued pushing them downward.

  “Okay, okay,” Haley said. “We’re moving.” She tried to pull herself away from Vasper’s grip without stumbling over the plethora of obstacles in their way.

  “There.” Vasper let both of them go and pointed to a fallen tree down and to their left. “Move.”

  It was only when they reached the tangle of branches around the trunk that Kettle understood the need for haste. Echoing off the hills, in the gaps between barrages of gunfire, another sound made its way to their ears. It was faint but distinctly manmade, too steady to be the undulating pitch of a dirt bike or ATV, and too deep in chord to be the drone the team had deployed earlier.

  “Chopper?” Kettle guessed.

  “Two of them. Coming this way.” He clambered over the tree and examined the ground on the other side. “This’ll do.”

  Kettle made his way to Vasper’s side and saw a shallow hollow space beneath the tree where the ground descended more steeply. Understanding Vasper’s intentions, he crawled into the natural shelter and burrowed himself in as far as he could to make room for whoever came in next, lying horizontally and pushing his back and shoulders into the dirt. There wasn’t much room leftover, definitely not enough for three extra bodies.

  Vasper waived for Haley to follow. She first gave Kettle a quick look, which he interpreted to mean This wasn’t my idea, so don’t get any ideas, and then scrambled in after him. She turned her back to him and pressed herself up against his chest, doing her best to get as much of her body as she could under the tree. They were effectively spooning.

  Vasper began throwing excess foliage over top of their shelter, draping branches, clumps of long grass and even fat acorns over their position. When he was finished, or when he didn’t want to leave himself exposed any longer, he said, “Jovis, you’re with me,” and jogged out of view.

  Kettle just now realized that his arm was draped around Haley’s midsection as if they were curled up on a couch together watching TV. Her head rested on the bicep of his lower arm and the top of her ponytail brushed up against his chin. Vasper’s extra camo-work made their hideout darker than the exterior environment, and for some reason that made Kettle focus more intently on the sound of Haley breathing.

  I should say something, he thought to himself. I should definitely say something. He didn’t say anything.

  The sound of the helicopters grew closer, to the point that he could distinguish two different engine sounds. The gunfire and explosions that had ceased, and Kettle guessed two possible explanations. Either Caurfo and his men had killed everyone, or the Yensh had pulled back to let the helicopters have a go. He doubted very much that the townsfolk had managed to get the upper hand on Caurfo. This was the equivalent of an unruly mob trying to get the drop on eleven battle-hardened Marines.

  Haley shifted her hips. Kettle felt something stir down below. Not now, damn it. He directed his thoughts elsewhere. “You okay?”

  “Uh huh.” This was followed by a sharp intake of breath and another wiggle. “Yeah. There’s a rock under my leg.” She adjusted her position a third time and pushed herself harder against him. “Starting to hurt a bit.”

  “Need some help?”

  “No, that’s all right. I’m good now.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. No worries.”

  “About everything?”

  “Huh?”

  “Are you good about . . . Sorry, never mind. I thought . . .”

  “You thought what?”

  “I thought we might be talking about something else.”

  “No. I was clearly talking about the rock.”

  “Yeah, I . . . got that . . . now.”

  “Why would I be talking about before?”

  “I thought you were being metaphorical.”

  “No.”

  “My mistake.”

  “I’m not good with you, Kettle. You’re being an asshole.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “An inconsiderate asshole.”

  “Inconsiderate?”

  “And selfish.”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  “And egotistical.”

  “I am not.”

  “And stubborn.”

  “Okay, Haley. Come down from your high horse. Don’t you think you’re being a little hypocritical?”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you. It’s not like you’ve been a beacon of moral fortitude and righteousness, you know. I might be selfish sometimes. Fine. I admit it. I can be a jerk now and again. But you sometimes act out of self-interest, too.”

  “Oh, really? That’s the path you’re going to take? Soup and I decide to enjoy each other’s company for an evening, and that make
s me selfish? Should we have consulted you first? Should we have asked your royal highness for permission?”

  “I wasn’t just talking about that.”

  “What else were . . . No. Never mind. I don’t want to hear it. Just shut up, Kettle.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to talk about it in the Kye-shiv.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I don’t get it. Why are you being . . .”

  “Shut your mouth, Kettle. Stop talking.”

  “I . . . Fine.”

  He clamped his mouth shut and stewed in a pile of emotions. He felt ridiculous. He respected Haley. He felt a deep kinship with her. They had survived the Sollian together; they shared the same experiences. They were still sharing the same experiences, and they were doing it in ways that even Dallas and Soup weren’t capable of understanding. But right now, snuggled up together in a depression under a fallen tree, he was furious with her. He wanted to spin her around so he could look her in the face and tell her why she was being belligerent and self-obsessed.

  The helicopters were close now. Their flight path had diverged, with one pilot hovering his craft at high altitude over the area where the battle had taken its course, and the other pilot flying in a wide arc around the valley, presumably to scan the area for additional potential combatants. Kettle could tell already that it would pass right over them. He wasn’t worried about it. The chances of being spotted in their cubby hole were slim to none, and he presumed that Vasper had found an equally good hideout for himself and Jovis. It was just a matter of waiting for it to pass by, and then they could get back on the trail and resume their run.

  Kettle began pondering what he could say to restart a conversation with Haley without stoking the embers of her wrath any further. He searched for a way to make her see his side of things. He didn’t want to leave it like this.

  Kettle opened his mouth, but before the words came out, a glint caught his eye. A shiny flash from the ground.

  “Oh, no.”

  “What?”

  He pointed to the dirt about nine or ten feet in front of their hideout where Jovis’ metal flask lay flat on its side. The sunshine beamed off its flat surface.

  “Crap,” Haley whispered harshly after she spotted it.

  “Do you think they’ll see it?” The helicopter was nearly on them, the beating of its rotors preceding warning of its imminent arrival.

  “I can get it,” Haley said.

  “There’s no time.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “Stay here!” He tightened his arm around her torso.

  “Asshole.” She rammed her elbow hard into Kettle’s kidney, taking him by surprise and forcing him to loosen his grip. And then she was gone. She scrambled into the open like a crab on steroids and lunged for her metal target.

  Kettle spun his head skyward and tried to spot the helicopter through the mess of branches and foliage. He didn’t see it, but he knew it had to be almost right on top of them. By the time he turned back to see if Haley had picked up the flask, she was already on top of him, crashing into the hollow and slamming herself into Kettle, this time facing him so that her face was pressed up against the crux of his neck and shoulder.

  “Are your legs in?” He couldn’t see their bottom halves and didn’t want to move lest he draw attention.

  She drew in her knees and feet as far as she could, and he pressed his own legs back into the dirt to give her more room. “Yeah.”

  “Do you think you were spotted?”

  “No, I think we’re okay.”

  “You sure?”

  “No, I’m not sure,” she snapped, raising her voice to be heard over the incoming chopper. “I said I think we’re okay.”

  A moment later, Kettle said, “I think we’ve got a problem.” The helicopter was directly above them now, and although Kettle couldn’t see it, the rotor noise and wind wake told him the pilot was flying the bird low over the topography. Not flying; hovering. It had stopped its sweep of the terrain to just hover over their position.

  He imagined soldiers with rifles hanging out the side doors of the chopper, secured with a harness system that allowed them to practically suspend themselves over empty air and get a direct line of sight to ground targets beneath them. He imagined them taking aim at the fallen log.

  Kettle wasn’t panicked. He rarely felt a sense of panic anymore. But he did feel anger toward Haley. “They spotted you.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “They’re right above us!”

  “Don’t blame me. Blame Jovis! They would’ve seen the flask if I didn’t get it.”

  “Seeing a hunk of metal and spotting a person are two different things. You should’ve just left it.”

  “I’m going to shove it up your ass if you don’t stop whining like a big baby.” Her face was a couple of inches away from his own, and her expression convinced him that she just might try it.

  Kettle had a response, but he very quickly realized that he might have to concede the point. He was whingeing about spilt milk instead of focusing on the much more important task at hand. They were sitting ducks where they were, but as soon as they made a bolt for it, they were exposing themselves to possible gunfire. Plus, there was still a chance that Haley was right about not being spotted. Maybe the helicopter had stopped to hover for a different reason. Or maybe the pilot had caught sight of Vasper and Jovis. There was no way to tell.

  “Okay, you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right, jerk.”

  He let the slight go. “What do you think?”

  “About?”

  “Wait here or make a run for it?”

  “Not too sure, if I’m honest,” she admitted, and her face softened. “They’re not shooting at us or trying to maneuver around for a better look, but . . .” She paused.

  “But they could be getting ready to drop a bunch of grenades on our heads,” Kettle finished for her.

  “Let’s run for it,” she said.

  “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Better to die on our feet than hiding like rats in a hole, right?”

  Haley flashed a smile, which went a long way to putting Kettle at ease. Remarkable how she could do that to him. “We go on the count of three,” she said.

  “Got it.”

  “And we run in different directions.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ready.”

  He nodded.

  “One.”

  “Wait.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just wanted to say . . .”

  “What?”

  “. . . never mind.”

  She looked at him, her brown eyes scanning his face for clues. A few seconds went by, and she said, “Don’t get shot, okay?”

  A huff of air escaped his nose. “Good advice.” He smiled back at her and added, “You, too.”

  She nodded one more time and said, “One.”

  Kettle’s muscles tensed up. He made sure that his arms and legs were pressed back against the hole to give Haley as much room as possible to dart out of the hole without getting tangled up in his limbs.

  “Two.”

  A bombastic explosion thundered through the air and ricocheted off the valley walls. Kettle expected a shock wave to pound into their shelter, so he wrapped his arms around Haley’s head in a protective embrace and turned his own face away from the opening. It never came, though. The tree branches didn’t even shake. He heard a secondary explosion and recognized that it was from some distance away.

  The helicopter above them pitched up its engine and began moving. It took a few moments for Kettle to work out that the pilot had decided to gain altitude and head away from them. It was bugging out.

  Haley used her hands to pry Kettle’s arms away from her head. “What was that?”

  “Not sure, but I think we’re in the clear.”

  She pushed off his chest and extricated herself from their hollow. Kettle fo
llowed her, eager to figure out what had spooked the helicopter.

  When he stood up on his feet, the answer presented itself to him in the form of a plume of black, acrid smoke rising in a tower over the area where Caurfo and his men had stood their ground against the incoming Yensh. At first, Kettle worried that something had happened to Caurfo, but then he considered that the airspace above them was now empty. Caurfo took down the helicopter, Kettle realized. No wonder the second chopper pilot had pulled out. Seeing his companion get shot out of the sky would’ve been a very rude introduction to the weaponry the enemy had at its disposal. Caurfo had brought missiles to a gun fight.

  To his left, about twenty feet away, Vasper and Jovis appeared, the former holding a wristband to his mouth and talking into it. Kettle strained to hear what the soldier was saying, but he only made out a few snippets. “Yes, sir.” “That’s affirmative.” “Copy that.” Kettle couldn’t hear a voice coming out of the wristband, and Vasper wasn’t wearing an earpiece that Kettle could see, making him wonder if the sergeant was using an implant.

  “Caurfo did that?” Kettle asked when Vasper was close enough.

  “Yes.” Vasper looked Kettle and Haley over quickly with his dark eyes, presumably to make sure they weren’t hurt. “We need to keep moving,” he said once he was finished.

  “Why?”

  “That helicopter spotted us.”

  “How?” Haley inquired.

  Vasper shrugged. Kettle thought it was eerie how disconnected Vasper seemed to be from emotional output. “Maybe they saw one of us. Maybe they’ve got infrared scanners. Doesn’t matter. They know we’re here, which means they’ll hunt us.”

  2.3 ELISKA

  As hijackings went, this one was going quite smoothly. At least, she thought it was. This was her first one, so it wasn’t like she had a big sample size to work with, but when she compared their present situation with hypothetical scenarios, she felt comfortable in the conclusion that this was a good hijacking. It felt good.

  In more ways than one. At the surface level, Eliska was satisfied with the lack of metaphorical potholes and roadblocks in her path. The bureaucratic hiccup in the ARCOB hangar had been tense, but after that, the entire operation had unfolded without a single snafu. Dallas and Soup pointed the guns, the pilots flew, and Saeliko sat quietly without magically escaping her bonds and beating everyone senseless. A+s all around. However, it also felt good because she was initiating her own emancipation. She was freeing herself from Zodo.