Gateways 07_ What Lay Beyond - Diane Carey [84]
“You sound… almost nostalgic… for ground combat,” she grunted as she hauled herself over, scraping herself rather thoroughly as she did so.
“When a man’s trying to kill you, you should be able to look him in the eye.”
“How sweet.”
They tumbled up and over, Shelby throwing her arms over her head to shield it on the roll down. She bounded to her feet, feeling more invigorated, more alive than she’d ever been. It was as if the danger that surrounded her had flipped some sort of switch within her brain, making her savor all the more every breath she took in the face of danger.
“Come !” Calhoun started to say, but with a sharp gesture she silenced him and snapped, “If you say “Come on’ to me one more time, I break your neck.”
He laughed at that, but it seemed to her a laugh of sheer joy, as if he was thrilled to be sharing this… this demented escapade with her. She had no real idea what the hell was going on, or whether they were really in Xenex’s past somehow, or any of it. But the one thing she did know, beyond any doubt, was that she was absolutely loving every minute of it. Was this what it was like, she wondered, to see the world through the eyes of Mackenzie Calhoun? To savor danger, to thrive on personal risk? It frightened her a little, but only a little. The rest of it made her nearly giddy over the jeopardy.
They ran toward the Keep, and although a couple of the flaming masses of whatever-the-hell-they-were landed near them, nothing came as close as that earlier one had. They were drawing within close range of the defenders in the upper reaches of the Keep, and the defenders were pointing at them now, shouting to one another. For an instant Shelby was extremely concerned. What if these people took Calhoun to be an enemy and opened fire on him?
And Calhoun was slowing down, looking at the defenders in wonderment. “Mac… Mac, what is it?” Shelby asked, shaking his arm when she got no immediate response. “Mac…?”
“It… can’t be…” he breathed.
“Mac…?”
Suddenly there was a howl of fury behind them, a hundred voices shouting as one, and Shelby spun just in time to see a horde of Xenexians pouring over the ridge that they had just climbed over. They were armed to the teeth, swords in their hands, rage in their eyes, charging full-bore toward the Keep. Their armor was of the most primitive sort, brown and black leathers that would turn away only the most glancing of blows. But they were heavily muscled, with bristling beards and wild purple eyes like Mac’s. There were women as well, appearing no less vicious than the men, although their hair was shorn near to baldness. Their collective goal was clear: to assail the Keep. The defenders of the Keep responded in kind, cascading down the wall toward their attackers.
Xenexians… both sides… thought Shelby in confusion, remembering that Calhoun had once told her that although certainly there had been disagreements, disputes, fragmentations (usually along family lines) throughout the course of his world, there had never been any sort of civil war among his people. But what else could one possibly call this? No quarter being asked, none given, as two sides fueled by murderous rage pounded toward one another.
“Mac! We’ve gotta get out of here!” shouted Shelby, but even as she said it she realized there was nowhere to go. Furthermore, she doubted at that moment that Calhoun had even heard her. The two sides were converging, with Shelby and Calhoun right in the middle, and there was no escape.
Calhoun didn’t even try.
Instead, with a roar as loud and primal as anything torn from the throats of the attackers, Calhoun charged the men coming in behind them. As Shelby watched, stunned, Calhoun dropped to his hands and knees at the last second, and one of the foremost attackers slammed into him, upending, feet flying high over his head. He hit the ground directly in front of Calhoun, and with a roar Calhoun was upon him. Calhoun grabbed his head with both hands, twisted