StarCraft II: Devils' Due by Christie Golden

Author:Christie Golden [Golden, Christie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Video & Electronic, General, Science Fiction, Games, Fiction, Media Tie-In
ISBN: 1416550852
Google: zuM1wHVdxskC
Amazon: 1439196648
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2011-04-12T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CENTERVILLE, SHILOH

It was early fal , and the heat was searing.

Jim squinted in the bright sun as the dust devils

swirled about him, kicking up little puffs as he walked.

He had sent a reply back to Myles, and true to his

word, Myles had found a good spot. Jim had had

Tychus drop him off in the prearranged site, a field

that struck a good balance between “in the middle of

nowhere” and “driving distance to town.”

This field should have been bursting with triticale-

wheat ready to be harvested. Instead, it was sere and

dry. The dust would make for a spectacular sunset,

Jim remembered, and as luck would have it,

Centervil e lay to the west.

He wore nondescript farmer’s clothes that had

been left for him at the drop point along with an older-

model pickup truck. Jim knew that he was a wanted

man, but he also knew Shiloh, and people on this

planet tended to mind their own business. He clapped

the hat on his head to complete the disguise, climbed

into the truck, and took off.

He barely recognized the place. The town itself had

sprawled past the limits he remembered as a youth,

but many of the buildings had been built, inhabited,

and then closed down—an entire life cycle in the

period in which he had been away. The main street

had several FOR SALE signs on places that Jim had

never seen.

It was early evening, and the sun was only

beginning its glorious red-hazed descent, so most of

the remaining businesses were closed for the day.

That made it safer for him. As he passed a smal park

on the right, something caught his eye. He slowed,

made a U-turn, and stopped.

It was a large rectangular wal made of the tan

stone quarried in Shiloh. The stone had been cut and

highly polished, and there were some kind of

drawings etched in it, and a plaque. Curious, Jim

climbed out of the truck.

As he drew closer, he realized that it was a

memorial for the Guild Wars. A smal flame flickered

in front of it, and at the little fire’s feet were the words

WE WILL NEVER FORGET. The drawings were of

farmers on one side, armored Confederate marines

on the other. Al struck poses so heroic, it would have

made a recruitment officer weep.

He walked around to the other side. It was almost

completely covered by a huge plaque. Jim realized

with a jolt that it was a list of those sons and

daughters of Shiloh who had fal en in the wars.

It was a hel of a long list.

Slowly, he reached out and touched the raised

names, trailing his fingers downward through the

alphabet. Too many to read each one, but those he

recognized jumped out at him: Phil ip Andrews, Jacob

Cavanaugh, Roger Gregson, Henry “Hank” Harnack

…

Harnack. Hard to believe he and Jim had grown up

as bitter enemies, and become friends, brothers in

arms, when they both had joined Heaven’s Devils.

Hank’s death … had not been a good one.

Felicia Karlson, Vincent Lamont …

“Thomas Omer,” he said quietly. He and Tom Omer

had grown up together. They had signed up together.

He’d watched his friend receive the wound that would

take his life. Jim al owed his fingers to linger on the

name for a moment, remembering.

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