Denver Moon: The Minds of Mars (Book One) by Warren Hammond & Joshua Viola

Author:Warren Hammond & Joshua Viola [Hammond, Warren & Viola, Joshua]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hex Publishers
Published: 2018-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

“I NEED MY GUN.” My voice sounded like a growl.

The monk hesitated before tearing her eyes off the group of enemies descending the stairs. Her face was painted with a patchwork of eerie lighting coming through the stained glass. Her lips were moving, subvocalizing into some kind of tech wired in her head.

“Gun,” I said. “Now.”

She kept moving her lips, her eyes dashing every which way like she was navigating a holographic display only she could see.

“I need my gun, dammit!” I reached around my grandfather, my hand stretching for her hip. I’d throw her overboard if I had to.

She twisted around to block me with her other hip, and she grabbed my wrist, her grip tight enough to make me whelp.

“Let me go!” I hissed.

She shook her head, the light dancing across her features. A bright flash lit in her eyes, a quickly extinguished blaze right behind her irises. I sucked in a breath; what the hell did I just see? It was the same strange flash I’d seen in the doctor’s eyes when I met him just a few days ago. The only time I’d seen anything similar was at the Earth Park, when a group of cats’ eyes glowed in the beam of a spotlight mounted in their enclosure.

She pointed upward. “Come, we have to hurry.”

Looking up, I expected the armed monks to be bearing down on us by now, but they’d stopped their approach.

“What are they doing?” asked Navya.

Nigel climbed the rest of the way up to the catwalk. “The monks down below stopped too.”

A shout sounded from one of the monks above. No, not a shout, more of a cry, a long, mournful cry. Then the monk tipped forward and flipped over the rail. Ojiisan and Navya gasped in unison. With a dropped jaw, I watched him fall straight toward us. His white robes flapped and snapped like a flag in high wind as he plummeted like a stone. He sped right past me, close enough to touch, his tortured face zipping by in an instant. He hit a railing below, his arms and legs whipping against a snapped back. The shock vibrated up the stairs to rattle my already shaken nerves.

What the hell was happening?

The body tumbled farther to smack the stone floor with a stomach-turning slap.

The sound of a pulseripper snatched my attention. Above, two more monks toppled to their own gunfire. Stunned, I watched a pickax find its target, the sharp end driving through one side of a monk’s skull to jut out the other side before the victim collapsed onto the catwalk.

“Now!” shouted the monk who had led us here. She sprinted halfway up the next set of stairs while the rest of us stood frozen in shock and horror.

Nigel guided me forward. “Come on, love. No time to dawdle.”

I gave my grandfather a light push, and we were all on the move again. From behind me, I heard Navya point out what should’ve been obvious.

“The feve,” she said.

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