Colliding Worlds Trilogy 03 - Explosion Page 8

  Jax kept his eyes on the road as they headed north and east through back roads toward the Etzee. Though Jax was often silent, Talla knew he was still upset.

  “I wouldn’t have killed him if there was any other way.”

  “I know,” he replied quietly.

  The cadence of the engine and movement lulled Talla to sleep. By the time she awoke, the sun had broken the horizon. She rubbed her eyes, too many hours with only a power nap here and there were beginning to cloud her mind. Fields had begun to replace trees. The landscape began to resemble the flat lands that surrounded the Etzee.

  With every mile, her nerves were turning into pincushions. “Are we doing the right thing?” she asked. When Jax glanced over, she continued. “Maybe we are better off running for now.” If they ran, they could at least try again another day.

  “We’re doing the right thing,” Jax said after a moment. “The longer we wait, the more time troops have to build a perimeter around the Striga. But it’s going to be tough getting in close even now.”

  “True,” she said, thankful to hear the words aloud. He was right. Getting to the Striga wasn’t going to be easy, but the Striga couldn’t come to them. Core ships were massive monuments of technology that required massive power. Their power cells would be nearly drained by their descent and landing. It would take them weeks to fully recharge. It wasn’t like the Striga could just lift and relocate to a new location, out of human reach.

  She turned to the man next to her. His muscles were tense; his lips were a thin line. Those lips. Yesterday morning, when she stole the kiss from him, she’d never imagined how magical it would feel. It had taken Jax a startled second to respond, but when he did, fyet, did it ever feel good.

  “Thanks,” she blurted out.

  He turned, startled from his thoughts. “For what?”

  “For everything. For giving up everything to help out some aliens. For risking your life for me … For letting me kiss you.” The last sentence was said quietly, demurely.

  He swallowed. “Well, ah … I mean — ”

  Not the reaction I was going for. Suddenly nervous, she giggled and squeezed his bicep. “Relax, I’m just playing with you.”

  Jax didn’t say anything.

  Scolding herself for pushing, she went to pull away but he grabbed her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

  “I liked the kiss,” he said quietly, turning his brown eyes on her.

  Her eyes widened at the sudden declaration, and he pulled away as though she burned him. She held her hand to her chest, the residual heat from Jax’s palm sending tingles through her body.

  Staring straight ahead, she focused on breathing slow and steady, focused on not fidgeting. There was something about Jax that made her feel like a girl again. As long as she focused on anything but him, she could manage. But just one look with those melted-chocolate eyes, and her heart pounded in her ears, deafening the world around her.

  Wanting Jax was an impossible daydream. Wanting to touch every inch of his skin. Wanting to experience sex with a human. Well, not just any human. Only Jax would do. Even thinking of any of it was a foolish notion.

  Any guy liked a harmless kiss, but what would Jax do if he suspected just how carnal her thoughts were? Would he show interest beyond his job at being her Leash over the past couple years? Would he show disgust at the idea of intimacy with someone so unlike him? It was that latter response why she never pushed to find out.

  Being near Jax was the only comfort that now existed in her life. Before, she’d had Laze, but even then, it was Jax who she’d sought out every day. If he abandoned her now, she refused to let it be because she’d crossed a line. She’d take being in the proximity of Jax, nothing more, if the alternative prevented even that.

  She scanned the countryside again. Cold fear took over her thoughts as her gaze narrowed on the road ahead. What she’d first thought were low-level clouds in the far-off distance were actually gray plumes of smoke.

  She pointed. “That’s … ”

  “Exactly where we’re headed,” Jax finished.

  A battle was underway. The Etzee had become the theater of war, and they were heading straight toward it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jax wanted to snap the car around and head in the exact opposite direction and take them any place other than the cluster fuck they were heading straight for. He wanted to hide with Talla until this whole thing blew over, and then they could finally be free. But that was the crux, wasn’t it. They’d never be free. He was a traitor. Hell, there was a dead soldier in the woods to prove that. And Talla was condemned for the mere fact of being from somewhere else and looking different.

  “Fyet,” Talla murmured at his side.

  The Draeken curse word summed it up perfectly. Hell, it even sounded like its English equivalent. “Hoo-rah.” They were headed into a full-out combat zone.

  Thirty miles out and already the Striga was a gray colossus, like an elephant about to smash an anthill caught in its path. He couldn’t see the heavy iron yet, but he knew they were there. Dots of SAM smoke bled into a haze surrounding the ship. The military must be throwing everything they had at the Striga. Even so, the shimmer across the core ship’s smooth, untarnished hull shone a one-finger salute in response to the bombardment. It gave a whole new meaning to “hard target.”

  Neither spoke through the next few miles. There was nothing to say as they approached Armageddon in every sense of the word.

  At ten miles out, Jax cranked the car off the gravel road and into a corn field.

  Talla grabbed a handle above the window and then turned a glare onto him. “A little warning would be nice.”

  He gunned the engine. “Hang on.”

  It was midsummer, and the corn stalks were already as tall as the car. He was already regretting the decision to ditch the SUV. He maintained just enough speed to move forward, knocking down the two rows of corn directly before them. The car’s small engine would only last a few minutes at this rate, if the windshield didn’t give out first. The green stalks were battering rams against the car. Each whipped the now heavily dented hood with a thud. Bugs, leaves, and tassels broke free and smacked against the windshield. Every couple minutes, he ran the windshield wiper to clear debris. When he reached the end of a row, he plowed through the fence, lined up, and started through the next field.

  Talla craned her head toward the sky. “We’ve been lucky there’ve been no helicopters so far.”

  Damn lucky. “My guess is that they’re still focusing on the core ship.” And they’re probably assuming that everyone’s trying to get away, not get closer to the ship.

  Talla twisted her hands. “The Striga should be watching for survivors. We need to find a way to send a signal so they will see us and send a transporter to pick us up. A few chaos-charges would come in handy right about now.”

  Jax chuckled. “Too bad I left the flares at home.”

  “Funny ha-ha,” she replied with a glance in his direction.

  “Well … ” He turned to her. “I’m not seeing a lot of options. We could light this POS on fire and hope they spot us before the ground troops do.”

  “That’s putting a lot of faith in hope, but it’s also our best option.” She sighed. After a moment, she hit the dash. “If only I had my wrist-com. They could come get us anywhere then.”

  “I’ve got a whole pocket full of ‘if onlys’ here,” Jax said drily. “But they’re not going to get us onto the Striga.”

  At that moment, a raptor flew over low, loud, and fast. “Jesus,” Jax muttered.

  Talla pressed her hand against the glass. “Do you think he saw us?”

  “We’re not exactly coming in stealth mode. If he was looking or had cameras on, then, yeah, I think he saw us.” Jax slammed the car to a stop. “I guess this is as close as we’re going to get,” he said, turning off the engine. He turned to Talla. “Ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  He grabbed the atlas,
opened the door, and stepped out. Talla grabbed the M16 and a bottle of water and walked around the back of the car with steam now seeping around the hood from the overheated engine. She hopped over broken rows of corn, and he met her midway as he walked back to the gas tank. He unscrewed the cover to see what shape he had to work with. It would work. Blowing up something would be the highlight of this otherwise fucked-up week.

  Except for kissing Talla. The thought hit him and he threw a quick glance at the woman with long silver hair and matching eyes. Even after a day on the run, she looked downright delicious. Her hair was mussed, her clothes rumpled, and he’d take her right then and there if he could.

  She stood off to the side. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Keep your head in the game, Jerrick. With renewed focus, he began to tear pages out of the atlas and roll them into cylinders. He slid the first cylinder into the gas tank, deep enough so that only the top edge remained. The next cylinder, only slightly narrower, slid into the first. He repeated the process twice until he had a foot-long paper tube sticking out of the tank. He crumpled up a small ball of paper and stuffed the open end of the tube.

  He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the small flint from his Jeep’s emergency stash. He turned to Talla. “When this lights, we’ve only got a few seconds before the fire decides what to do next. That is, if this signal actually works.”

  She nodded, then pointed to his left. “We run in that direction.”

  Checking the flint, he brought it just above the crumpled paper. With a quick move, he snapped the flint against its steel. Tiny sparks flew. He snapped the flint again and again until a small piece of the paper blackened and then disappeared under a small flame. He watched until half of the crumpled paper was engulfed before stepping back.

  With a quick nod at Talla, she took off at a sprint, leading the way down a row. After a dozen seconds, a hearty whoom sounded behind them. They slowed, stopped, and then turned. Intense flames of crimson and gold hues had swallowed the car and licked at the air.

  “It worked,” he muttered with genuine surprise.

  Contrary to the movies, it wasn’t easy setting a car on fire. He was thankful there was no explosion to draw attention from troops on the ground, not that he’d expected one. A good-sized, sealed air pocket was needed for any Hollywood-style explosion. The car, just under a half tank and with the gas cap gone, wasn’t set up to blow. But the light show was glorious. Now, if only the Striga saw the flames first, they’d have a chance.

  He looked at the woman at his side. She stood tall, nearly his height, and held the M16 in ready position.

  “Leave the rifle,” he said. “If the troops see it, they’ll open fire.”

  “They’ll open fire anyway.”

  “I want to minimize kills,” he tacked on honestly.

  She turned to face him. “A smart man told me that doing the right thing leaves little room for compromise and none for mercy.”

  “He sounds jaded.”

  “He was my brother.”

  Jax cast a glance her way. She stood stoic, her face expressionless, but she clutched the M16 to her as though it was her child. He inhaled, the air now carrying hints of burning metal and gasoline. “What now?”

  She stalked toward the burning vehicle and came down on a knee a safe distance from the flames. She handed him the M9. “We wait.”

  He took it and crouched, his back to her wings, as he scanned the area to their north. C’mon, c’mon, he repeated over and over to himself.

  With every passing minute, tension tightened and weighed down his muscles. They were cutting it too close. He blew the car less than ten miles from the Etzee. Troops would be here any minute. The flames had already morphed into black smoke, easily seen from miles away. “We have to assume we’re on our own,” he said, coming to his feet.

  Talla lowered her head and slowly pulled herself up as though it pained her to do so. “They didn’t see us.”

  Her words sounded hollow, her demeanor that of a small girl lost. He cupped her chin, bringing her gaze to his. “We’ll find another way.” But the defeat shining in her eyes nearly broke him. She’d suffered too much over the past two years. They’d come too far to give up now. He bit his bottom lip, watching her, and leaned forward. Just as he was about to press his lips to hers, her eyes widened, and Jax snapped his head around.

  “Oh shit,” he muttered, diving to the side, yanking Talla with him. They crashed through rows. Breaking from the line of sight of the first soldier brought them directly into the sights of another soldier two rows over.

  “Isn’t that — ” Talla yelled.

  “Yeah.” Of all the shit luck, it had to be his own fucking company to hunt them down. Echo-Three was the best. Of course they’d be first on the scene, he thought drily as he plowed headfirst through another wall of unyielding green corn.

  “Can you fly?” he yelled above the noise of crashing stalks.

  “Maybe!”

  He stopped, cupping her cheek, and pressed a kiss against her lips. “Go. Stay low so they can’t get a fix. I’ll distract them. Go!” He pushed her from him and turned direction, running down a row and directly toward the troops.

  Talla yelled something, but he never looked back, trusting her to get airborne. At least this way, she had a shot to get away. He was fucked.

  The soldier raised his rifle, and Jax lifted his M9. The man was too far away to get a body shot with a handgun, but Jax pinched off three shots anyway. The soldier never moved except to return fire. There were several pops. Something punched Jax in the gut, and a sharp sting knocked his right leg out from under him. He went down hard, but was more surprised that he hadn’t gone for the kill shot. Jax had trained him better than that.

  He raised his M9 to fire again, but a second soldier crashed through the stalks next to him, and the dark blur of a rifle butt came down on his head. He collapsed on his back, his world a dark and swirling mess. He felt the gun yanked from his hand. “Don’t move, Captain.”

  The sting in his leg was quickly becoming a sharp burn, but that wasn’t the only place he hurt. He touched his stomach and felt wetness. Gut shot. That was the nasty trick with adrenaline. A guy didn’t realize he was fucked until it was too late. He grimaced as he stared up the barrel of an M16.

  The rustling of leaves surrounded him, and he realized the rest of the company was closing in. Rifle fire erupted several feet to his left.

  Several dark objects lobbed through his line of vision. “Shock grenade! Fly, Tal — ” he yelled out, only someone stepped on his chest, cutting off his air as well as any ability to speak. Fly, he tried to scream again.

  Off to his right, the air exploded with reverberating booms when the grenades exploded. The plants around him rustled to the vibrations.

  Someone shouted commands, and many of the troops disappeared to the south. Only two remained. The boot left his chest and he wheezed, sucking in fresh air.

  His best friend came down on a knee. “Damn it, Jax,” Ace said, grimacing as he scanned his friend’s battered body. He pulled out a field dress kit, and lifted Jax’s T-shirt. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Couldn’t … stay away,” Jax replied, coughing as his air supply returned.

  “Christ, you look like shit.”

  Jax winced as Ace slapped the dressing on his stomach wound. “You always say — ” grunt “ — the sweetest things.”

  Ace reached out a hand. “Give me your kit, Moss.”

  Corporal Moss, who’d served under Jax until two days ago, dug into his pocket and slapped a small package in Ace’s palm. The soldier continued to hold his rifle at Jax, and Jax barked at him. Moss jumped and both Jax and Ace chuckled.

  Jax heard fabric rip and looked down to watch Ace patch his leg. “Who shot me?” he muttered.

  “Gabe, I think,” Ace replied.

  Jax scowled, holding his hand to his stomach. “I’m going to kick his ass.”


  Ace smirked but quickly sobered. He got in close. “Whose side are you on, Jax?”

  His response was immediate, no doubt of any kind. “Our side. Just like always.”

  Ace patted Jax’s shoulder. “That’s all I needed to hear.” He came to his feet. “Stand down, Moss. Captain Jerrick isn’t part of our directive.”

  Moss wavered but didn’t lower his M16. He was the youngest and one of the newest members in Jax’s company. A regular straight-shooter. Reminded Jax of what he’d been like when he first enlisted. All piss and vinegar. “But sir, the directive states that anyone aiding or abetting a dragon or goldie — ”

  “I said, stand down, corporal. That’s an order.”

  Moss hesitated before slowly lowering his weapon.

  Something blotted out the sun, and Jax looked up to find a Draeken transporter hovering above his position. He chuckled. Too damn late.

  “Looks like the calvary’s here.” Ace waved the transporter down. “They’ll get you patched up, brother.”

  As the transporter descended, rifle shots came from a half dozen guns off to Jax’s right. Bullets ricocheted off the ship with sparks. Moss got antsy. “This ain’t right, Captain. They’re the enemy.”

  “You want Jerrick to die, you dumb shit? They can help him. Now, stand down.”

  Moss’s eyes flitted from the transporter to Jax to Ace. If it had been anyone else on Jax’s team, he would’ve obeyed without question, but Moss was the new guy. That special bond of brotherhood hadn’t been formed yet. Moss pulled up his M16, this time aiming it point-blank at Ace. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, sir.”

  Ace didn’t look scared. He looked pissed off. “What, Moss? You going to shoot me now?”

  Moss’s hesitation cost him. Jax grabbed the corporal’s ankle and yanked. Moss flew backward, pinching off several shots on his way down.

  “Motherfucker!” Ace shouted.

  More shots were fired, this time from Ace’s direction, and the corporal lay motionless on the ground.

  By now, the transporter had landed a couple dozen feet away from Ace and Jax. He turned to Ace. “Aw, hell.”