Part 13 (1/2)
Something caught Simon's foot and wouldn't let go.
Controlling the panic that soared through him, Simon rolled over onto his back and gazed up at the Darksp.a.w.n. Simon kicked twice, trying to free himself, but didn't succeed. His foot simply struck the demon's chest and stopped. Simon's ankle screamed in pain at the impacts.
The demon laughed while it maintained a crus.h.i.+ng grip on Simon's leg.
Thrusting the Barrett between them, Simon fired into its face. The bullet ricocheted, coming almost straight back and burying into the ground only inches from Simon's head. He swung the rifle, hoping to use it as a club to break free of the Darksp.a.w.n's grip.
The creature swept an arm out almost lazily. The impact ripped the rifle from Simon's fingers and broke the Barrett into pieces. Fingers numb, Simon watched helplessly as the rifle bounced off nearby trees and finally fell to the ground twenty feet away.
”Die, hu-man!” the demon shrieked. According to the ancient texts, the Darksp.a.w.n had limited ability to speak, but they'd already picked up the English language. They served as spies and were quick-witted enough to be intuitive about prey and technology.
Simon gripped the Darksp.a.w.n's powerful wrist in both his hands. Straining, Simon tried to break free of the inexorable grip. Unable to match the creature in strength, Simon searched for nerve cl.u.s.ters he could inflict pain to. The scaly hide seemed impenetrable, though. Black comets swirled in his vision. He tried to breathe...couldn't.
Then the Darksp.a.w.n's grotesque head leaped from its broad shoulders in a spray of green ichors.
Simon thought he was hallucinating. He knew from experience that he was on the edge of blacking out.
A mailed fist, dark steely gray with a ruby undercurrent glowing beneath the surface, seized the thumb of the Darksp.a.w.n's hand around Simon's throat and pulled. The demon's bones broke with loud snaps that penetrated even the cannon fire.
Simon sucked in a greedy breath that felt like fire to his lungs. He stared up at the armored knight standing over him. The Templar's armor was so s.h.i.+ny while in Engaged mode-with the NanoDyne technology devoting so much of its energy to hardening the s.h.i.+elds-that Simon could see his own features in the smooth faceplate.
”Simon?” The amplified voice sounded strange in Simon's ears for just a moment. It also sounded surprised.
It took Simon only a moment to place the voice. He was helped by the fact that the armor couldn't disguise the womanly curves of his savior.
”Giselle?” Simon said, surprised as well.
The Templar offered her hand. Simon took the hand and allowed her to help him get to his feet. He'd known Giselle Fletcher since they'd been children. She was his age and they'd been reared in the same Underground complex.
”Yes,” Giselle replied. For a moment she allowed her faceplate to ”ghost,” turn translucent enough to permit him to see her features. She was a beautiful redhead with freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Her gray eyes were warm, but they looked more tired than Simon could ever recall. ”Hadn't fancied on meeting you out here, love.”
”It doesn't seem like the place to be.” Simon's heart leaped and he took strength in Giselle's presence. Looking beyond her, he spotted five other Templar battling Darksp.a.w.n with blades as well as sidearms.
A demon lifted its weapon and fired. Giselle blocked the deadly purple beam with her s.h.i.+eld. The beam lit up the image of the tall cross with a hippogriff wound round it. Although Simon couldn't see the image, he knew it would be there. He'd watched Giselle make her s.h.i.+eld down in the Templar forge. The energy beam reflected up and away, cutting through trees and dropping branches down.
”Talk later,” Giselle said. ”Fight now. Take my Grenadier.” She hefted the huge Templar sword she carried as she turned to follow her opponent's movements. ”Try not to get yourself killed.”
Simon ignored Giselle's disparaging remark. They'd always been compet.i.tive, always pus.h.i.+ng each other to the next level.
He lifted the Grenadier from her hip and readied it. The Grenadier was solid and heavy, an ugly weapon packed with killing power. It fired grenades filled with Greek Fire, the alchemical liquid created centuries ago. Only this version had been upgraded by the latest in Templar technology.
Despite the desperate nature of the situation, Simon smiled grimly. It felt good to have a Templar weapon in his hands. He armed the weapon and stepped into Giselle's shadow the way they'd been trained to do when one of them was wounded or had their armor trashed. While Giselle blocked the purple beams, Simon took aim and fired.
The grenadeswhumped from the Grenadier's stubby throat and struck their targets with deafening results. The Darksp.a.w.n went to pieces, torn apart by the high-explosive rounds that set them on fire.
”At least you haven't lost your touch, love,” Giselle commented dryly, as if they were back in the practice arenas their parents had arranged.
Simon took pride in that. Even though he was unarmored and so very vulnerable on the battlefield, he could still kill his enemies. That was what he was trained to do. He searched the area for Leah and found her ensconced behind two large Templar. She looked terrified but moved to stay clear of the attacks. ”Who's the bird?” Giselle asked.
”A friend.” That was all anyone needed to know at the moment.
”Well, come on then. Let's see if we can save that s.h.i.+p out there.” Giselle strode forward, moving superhumanly fast in her armor. Everything was amplified in the suit: strength, speed, and awareness.
Simon went forward with her, staying behind and slightly to the right so she could offer some protection and he had a fairly clear field of fire. He had to run hard to keep up.
The Templar charged through the night. They carried their swords, preferring them over the sidearms because they'd been trained more for close-up fighting if it came to that in the Underground. And the swords were the most powerful weapon in their a.r.s.enal.
A Darksp.a.w.n trooper, one of the elite warriors in that cla.s.s of demon, hurled itself from the darkness and caught Giselle by surprise. Simon knew it had to be cloaked or else the armor's infrared sensors would have picked it up.
The trooper smashed into Giselle and drove her back with a horrendous clang. She left her feet and nearly fell on top of Simon, who had to duck out of the way. That was the only thing that saved his life.
A rocket screamed seemingly out of nowhere and struck the ground where he'd been standing. The wave of concussive force knocked Simon over and peppered him with rocks and dirt.
Rolling to his knees, temporarily deaf, he yanked his coat up over his mouth and nose to filter out all the swirling debris. If the snow hadn't fallen and the ground hadn't been muddy, dust would have filled the air.
”In the trees!” Giselle shouted as she flipped to her feet and brought her sword up. The Darksp.a.w.n was almost on top of her, lifting a huge mallet that looked like it had once belonged to a Templar. The troopers were known to use the weapons of their enemies.
Moving again, knowing he'd heard Giselle only because the suit amplified her voice, Simon skidded on his knees, hooking his toes to slow himself. He raised the Grenadier in both hands and took aim at the figure high in the trees, tracking the purple blasts back to their source.
When he had the crosshairs centered over the Darksp.a.w.n sniper, Simon squeezed the trigger. The Grenadier s.h.i.+vered in his grip and three grenadeswhumped to the top of the tree, impacting the demon as it tried to escape.
The explosions ripped the creature free of the branches and hurled it away in flaming pieces. Simon gave a hoa.r.s.e shout of triumph before he knew it.
”Good job,” Giselle said. ”Now maybe you could stop celebrating and focus on the work at hand.” Feeling decidedly more confident now, Simon took cover behind a thick oak tree and took aim. The Grenadier was magical in nature, allowing it to generate a nearly inexhaustible supply of ammunition.
He squeezed the trigger again and again, knocking down targets as fast as he recognized them. Most of the Darksp.a.w.n died on impact. Few required a second shot.
Giselle and the other Templar fought on, using the incredible strength and their swords to lay waste to the Darksp.a.w.n that challenged them. Blades flashed and demons lay stretched out on the ground.
One of the Templar was on the ground, though, and Simon knew from the posture that the man wouldn't be getting back up. His sword lay before him, only inches from his outstretched fingertips.
Clipping the Grenadier to his hip, Simon raced for the fallen Templar's sword. It was a broadsword, much like the one Simon had forged for himself.
Throwing himself forward, Simon slid across the muddy, snow-covered ground. Mud splattered into his eyes and temporarily blinded him. He grabbed frantically for the sword and pulled it from the ground just as a shadow fell over him. Whirling, coming up to one knee, Simon held the sword before him in both hands.
Green energy sparked and winked along the blade's edge.
Feeling more confident, Simon lashed out at the hand. The blade cut through the demon's forearm with ease. The creature's arm dropped to the ground. Before the hand came to a rest, Simon was in motion again, circling around to the right. He launched an attack on the demon, reminding himself that he wasn't clothed in armor.
Simon cut the backs of the demon's legs, hamstringing the creature. It whirled, trying to deliver death, but its unresponsive feet landed it facedown on the ground.
Spinning the sword in his hand, reversing the way he held the weapon, Simon sank the sword through the demon's chest and into the ground beneath. The demon opened its mouth wide to scream. Before it could, Simon kicked it in the head with his boot. The Darksp.a.w.n lay there s.h.i.+vering for a moment, then relaxed completely as death claimed it.
”Look out!”
Simon moved as he saw the shadow on the ground lurch toward him. He rolled away from it, picking up cold mud, and came up with the sword in his hands. A Darksp.a.w.n flailed for him, throwing a Grappler toward Simon's last position.