Requiem For a Genocide by Michael Drakich

Author:Michael Drakich
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: scifi, scifi action, scifiadventure, scifi novel, scifi books, scifiaction, scifi opera, scifi alien, scifi space, scifi ebook
Publisher: Michael Drakich

CHAPTER 22

I only hope I can make it in time.

Considering the second whisper jet overhead, and pings telling me a third is on its way, the real threat of being destroyed from the air has forced me into a dangerous course of action.

One whisper jet was a concern, but something I believed I was handling with my zigzag escape. When the second jet pinged me, it went from a concerning situation to a dire one. The third jet has put me into a downright panic.

Throughout the night, Hannah has been able to sleep. I’m thankful for that at least. Even though she’s not like a Dalrean where all their healing happens when asleep, her bout with the cold showed that sleep does help some. It’s my hope her ankle sprain has healed enough she will be able to run, or at least walk, should the situation require it.

After a southerly course, I’ve got a pretty good idea exactly where I am in Dalrea. I would imagine the small town near here will have a constable or two, but no military personnel. It’s probably a fairly serene little place without any excitement to speak of.

I think that’s about to change.

The faint light in the sky up ahead indicates I’m nearing where I want to go. Street lights and such illuminate the area. I’ve got to find the right building. It’s most likely in the center of town.

As I clear the woods and head down the town’s main street, I’m fully exposed to the whisper jets overhead. There’s enough light from the town to make me somewhat visible to them. This is the scary part of my plan. It will take me a long time to cross the distance to where I’m going. If the whisper jets decide to open fire now instead of waiting for dawn and a clear sight, then I’m in big trouble.

I know it will slow me down even more, but I need to make my steps haphazard so that I’ll resemble a drunken Dalrean staggering down the street. It shouldn’t be too difficult to replicate, having seen enough of the officers at the base behave that way after going out drinking at night. I’m hoping for two things with this tactic. One being the difficulty in the whisper ships concentrating fire upon me, the other hoping they’ll think something is wrong with me and maybe I’m not as much of a threat as they originally presumed. They might think I’m damaged from my encounter with the first special ops team.

If only they knew the truth—one bad knee, one useless arm, and one blind eye. I’m damaged enough. That’s not including the cracked battery in my chest, but that wouldn’t make any difference in a fight.

I’m halfway down the street and, so far, no enemy fire. I’m going to chance straightening out for the last half. I’m coming up to the first street light and speed is a priority to get out of the line of fire.

The zap from a laser hits me in the left shoulder.

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