A thick, hairy arm slashed down through the gap in the roof. Claws wrapped around the gun in my left hand, tearing into my skin in the process. Pain reverberated through me as blood flowed down my arm and fingers. I fired the other gun. There was a roar in response and fluid dripped into the cabin—fluid that was black and rancid-smelling. But despite its injuries, the Adlin wasn’t letting me go. Instead, it began tugging me upward, trying to pull me free from the craft. All that held me in position was the belt around my waist.
I swore, reached across my body for the knife, and then slashed at the Adlin’s arm. The glass blade bit deep, severing skin, muscle, and bone with ease, and suddenly I was free. As the Adlin’s arm dropped to the scooter’s floor and black blood began to pulse all over me, I grabbed the rifle and fired upwards. The Adlin’s entire head exploded and his body tipped sideways.
The minute his weight slid from the roof, the scooter surged forward. Hope rippled through me, but a quick look either side soon killed it. The Adlin were still running beside us, although I could only see four of them now. Even as I wondered what the others were up to, the scooter jerked and the craft’s fat nose began to rise. The missing Adlin had obviously jumped onto the scooter’s tail and were pressing it downward. Dirt filled the air, a choking cloud that quickly cut visibility.
I swore, straightened my arm over Saska’s trembling body, and fired the rifle again. Twin holes appeared in the scooter’s sloping tail, and the head of the nearest Adlin disintegrated. The other one roared in fury and two more hairy figures appeared to take the place of the one I’d shot. The tail dug deeper into the soil and the whole craft began to shudder. It would tear itself apart if I couldn’t make the Adlin release it. I reloaded and fired, then reloaded and fired again. Hair and muscle and body parts went flying, but the ones I killed were being held in place by the ones who lived, and the scooter was coming to a slow but inevitable halt.
The front of the vehicle jerked upward. I twisted around, had a brief glimpse of two Adlin as they slipped under the craft’s nose. Something hit us hard; the whole vehicle twisted, the metal groaning as the nose rose again and became almost vertical. It threw me back into the seat but I somehow kept a grip on the rifle and once again fired, blasting a hole through the foot well but catching no Adlin.
Again, the craft shuddered. But before I could reload, before I could do anything, the tail was torn away from the passenger pod and we were sent tumbling, end over end, across the barren Tenterra soil.
2
We came to halt upside down but relatively intact. The air was thick with dust and the windows were caked with the stuff, meaning I had no clue where we’d landed or where the Adlin were. The sensors were ominously quiet. Something must have broken when we’d been sent flying. The engines, however, were still at full bore, and the acrid smell of smoke teased the dusty air. I hastily shut everything down and an odd, creak-filled hush fell over the pod.
Nothing moved except the wind, and she was urging us to get out, to flee before the Adlin fell upon us again.
But if we’d did flee, we’d die. The Adlin had kept up with the scooter’s top speed—what hope would we have on foot?
I reached up with a bloody hand and gripped the ragged edges of the hole I’d blasted into the foot well, and then unlatched the seat belt with the other. Once back on my feet, I twisted around and glanced at Saska. She was hanging upside down, her eyes closed and her expression slack. It was hard to tell whether she was conscious or not.
“Saska, you okay?”
She jumped at the question, but didn’t open her eyes. “Yes.”
The whisperings of the wind got stronger, and brought with it an ominous howling. The Adlin were coming at us yet again.
I gathered my weapons, then pressed the earwig. “Base, this is eight-three. The scooter is down. I repeat, the scooter is down.”
Static was my only reply. I cursed softly but resisted the urge to rip the thing out of my ear. While I might not be getting a response, there was always a chance that Winterborne could hear me. And, if not, they should at least be able track my position through it—but only as long as the tail remained inserted in my ear canal.
“Well,” I said as I began reloading all the weapons, “unless Blacklake can break the land-speed record, it looks like it’s just the two of us.”
“Yes.” Again her reply was remote.
I glanced at her sharply. Air spun tightly around her, air that was as sharp and electric as a storm on a summer night. On a surface level, she might have appeared uncertain about her air witch abilities, but her subconscious self certainly had no such doubts.
The bite in the air got stronger, louder, and the pod began to shudder and shake. But rather than lifting it up, as I half expected, the wind began to tear at the broken metal, ripping it further apart, creating a hole big enough to fit a person through.
There was a soft click and Saska fell free of her restraints, grunting as she landed partially on her head and partially on her back. The wind began to wrap around her and I suddenly realized what was about to happen.
“You are not going to leave me here alone, witch.”
I slung the rifle across my shoulder, clipped the gut busters to my utilities belt, and then lunged forward and wrapped both arms around her waist. And none too soon. The wind had barely finished demolishing the rest of the pod’s wall when it pulled her free, taking me with it in the process. It swept us upward, into the blue of the sky, and then hesitated. Fingers of wind began to tear at my grip on Saska. I closed my eyes and for the first time ever, attempted to meld with the air, reaching as deep into its heart as I could. Pleading my case, asking it to save me too.
The fingers stopped pulling at my hands and, after a moment, the wind wrapped around us both and held us steady. A cocoon of cloudy, gossamer air that was as soft as spun cotton and yet as cold as ice then formed to conceal us. When that was done, we were ripped up and sideways at speed.
I had no idea where we were going. The wind might have listened to my plea but she wasn’t talking to me right now. Nor was Saska. All I could do was hope we weren’t being taken toward even bigger trouble.
Only a few minutes seemed to have passed when our speed diminished and the cocoon began to unravel. Below us, brown soil stretched on forever, empty and without life. I could see neither the Adlin nor the Blacklake rescue party, and there was nothing even remotely familiar.
The wind delivered us onto the ground then gently eased away. I loosened my grip on Saska and rolled away from her, staring up at the blue sky while I sucked in air and thanked whatever gods might be listening for our freedom.
I guessed it now was up to me to ensure we remained that way.
I sat up. While I still had all my weapons, none of them would protect us for very long if the Adlin found us. As for injuries… I finally allowed myself to look at my left hand. The black graphene-and-Kevlar-layered leather glove had undoubtedly saved me from losing it, but neither had gone undamaged. While I could still move three of my fingers, my pinky felt dead and lifeless. There was also a great gash that stretched from my knuckles to my elbow, and it was from this that most of the blood was coming. Weirdly, it wasn’t hurting. Maybe I was still in shock. Or maybe the desperate knowledge of what our fate might yet be if we didn’t find some sort of sanctuary in this barren, blighted place was simply smothering it.