Nemesis: Book Ten in the Enhanced Series by T.C. Edge

Author:T.C. Edge [Edge, T.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

18

Our path through the network of alleys and lanes is at an end. And with its conclusion growing near, the fighting at the blockade has grown louder. Now, the chattering of guns is more evident than ever, dozens, perhaps hundreds of weapons joining in the chorus. Explosions sound too, ripping through the air like thunder strikes, the air growing more misty as we approach, the accumulation of smoke and soot and dust from toppling buildings setting a grey film over the streets.

That film suits us well, and conceals us as we approach. Through the mist, down long roads, figures now begin to appear. Their shapes are evident, darker than the fog, each of them flashing with little yellow lights as their guns rattle and discharge. We’re at the rear now, our position secure. And before we strike, we have two jobs to complete.

First, locate the Stalkers.

Second, scout for Cure soldiers on watch, and then get into position.

If the action so far is anything to go by, my grandmother’s assertion that the Cure are consumed by hubris stands firm. We’ve faced little hindrance on our path here, easily sidestepping or disabling any units we pass. And now we’re close, so close to their rear lines, exposed and vulnerable and so very appealing to my eyes.

Zander sets out the orders verbally this time. It’s so loud here that his voice is easily concealed among our group, huddled tight so his words reach our ears.

“We move, street by street. The Stalkers will be close. Looks like they haven’t engaged. Let’s go.”

We waste no time, and move quickly off, the growing fog a great and unexpected boon to our cause. All soldiers here are little more than silhouettes, figures in the mist, and we’re no different. From afar, a Cure soldier spotting us would likely just think us one of their own units. There’s nothing to differentiate us from them in conditions like this.

It helps us move swiftly, yet we still do so with care. My brother appears focused and alert enough to quickly assuage my doubts about his physical state. I suppose I shouldn’t doubt him at all. After all, he was still outperforming me after a couple of days without sleep.

At first I watch him close. Then I forget all about the gash to his side as he takes charge in his usual manner. His decisions are swift, his orders succinct. He leads us through further roads, working cleverly down paths he’s stalked and hunted before. And before too long, our first job is nearing completion.

It isn’t us who find the Stalkers, however, but they who find us. Their cloaks are perhaps more easy to differentiate among all these faceless shadows in the mist, but we don’t spot them. Instead, it’s their dark troop of six that appears from the murk, hissing at us from the cover of some rubble. We turn quickly, guns primed, until we see their eyes glinting in the shade.

“We waited,” comes a voice. “Now it’s time to act.

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