Reaping by K. Makansi Read Free Book Online

marches into my chest. It’s entirely possible we’re walking into death. My hands shake slightly, cradling my weapon. I beat back the black crawling at my vision and steady my trembling muscles.  Now is not the time to let the rage consume you.
    We stash our packs about twenty meters back, and follow Jahnu once again towards the clearing. I’m thankful Firestone’s trailing us at a distance. Leaves crackle like kindling under his feet. I lower the power grade on my Bolt and pull it up, ready to fire. I hope none of the soldiers recognize me.
    Valerian Orleán. The son of the Chancellor of the Okarian Sector and the Director of the O.A.C. The two most powerful people in the Sector. Now a renegade, a traitor, and a conspirator with a terrorist organization that opposes everything we stand for.
    Everything I once stood for.
    They’ll have no qualms about killing every one of us. That, we learned for certain at Thermopylae, when the skies lit up with electric death. When Remy’s mother was killed by fire from above. When my own mother, Corine Orleán, made it clear she had no intention of showing anything resembling mercy.
    I hear more voices through the trees, more casual, incoherent at a distance, as we stalk along the edge of the clearing. In the smoke, we’re at a distinct disadvantage. Soon they’ll detect our heat signatures with their mission contacts, but it’s nearly impossible for us to see them. If it comes to a direct fight, we’ll be fighting blind.
    The thought of waking up back in Okaria, a prisoner, face-to-face with my parents—or worse, General Aulion—sends a chill through my bones.
    Jahnu stops moving. Kenzie and I follow suit. There are voices ahead, close. Jahnu waves us forward a few steps and I see them: a group of three soldiers directly in front of us, perhaps fifteen meters away. They’re facing the hollowed remnants of the building, watching it burn low. They are silhouettes, vague forms outlined against the dim glowing embers in front of them, unaware of the approaching threat.
    I’ve got a clear and easy shot. I glance at Jahnu and Kenzie, who are both watching me. If we do this perfectly, all three soldiers will drop at the same time. Jahnu looks at me and nods, and then looks back to Kenzie. I can’t see Firestone, but I know he’s watching our backs.
    Before I can fire, I hear a yell and one of the soldiers on the edge of the clearing drops. In surprise, I glance over at Kenzie and Jahnu, but it’s clear from the confusion on their faces and the glowing capacitors on their Bolts that neither of them fired the shot.
    “Man down! Man down!” comes an urgent shout.
    “Holy—is that an arrow?” someone else exclaims.
    Shouts of confusion ring out, but any further orders or information must be on their intercom systems, as I can’t make out anything more specific. We watch, shocked, as at least three-quarters of the soldiers in the clearing run off to the northwest, disappearing quickly into the fog, smoke, and shadow of the trees.
    “What just happened?” Kenzie whispers.
    “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Firestone mutters. “Let’s take out these last guards and retrieve our prisoner.”
    Two guards left behind, their backs at an angle to us, watch as their comrades hunt their mysterious assailants. We creep forward, staying as quiet and low as possible. Jahnu raises his weapon again and, likewise, I take aim at the figure on the left. I breathe to steady myself. I sense rather than see Jahnu prepare to fire. I don’t hesitate. I squeeze the trigger and watch as the two figures fall to the ground, silenced.
    “Hey!” someone shouts. I search for the source of the voice—a soldier or a medic, now standing over the soldier with the arrow through his chest. She’s got her gun pointed in our direction, and I duck instinctively. A flash of blue light blows over my head, but a muffled cry of pain from behind me tells me her shot connected with someone.
    My