Page 34 of The First Spark
As all hell broke loose, Kalie dove for cover.
Pulsers shrieked and blasts roared above her. Panting, she crawled across the carpet. A laser flew close enough to singe her hair. She whimpered, dropping flat on the floor. There was no cover near her. The room was so open.
A table.
Kalie lunged, catching one of the metal legs. She tugged; it wobbled and lurched over.
She rolled out of the way. Another blast sailed past her, and she scrambled behind the overturned table.
Behind the cover of the tabletop, Kalie gasped for air. It didn’t go into her lungs.
She peeked around the corner.
The legionnaires had no cover on their half of the room, but Wells and Vega each crouched behind an onyx counter. Red blasts peppered the dark wall behind them. Krii’s crumpled corpse bled out into the carpet’s golden logo. It was a horrible sin to thank the gods for a death, but she did anyway.
The legionnaires paused their fire, inching forward.
Wells and Vega popped up with their pulsers ablaze.
Red bolts lit the room. Pulsers shrieked, blasts wailed. Smoke twisted up her nose.
Kalie weighed the distance to the closed door. Too far.
But she didn’t have a choice. She’d prayed to the gods to save her, and this was probably her only chance.
Another legionnaire fell, landing beside Krii’s motionless body.
Kalie tried to push herself up. She couldn’t get her legs to move.
Someone screamed. Not Wells or Vega; they were still shooting. Wells had dropped into a crouch, firing around the corner of his counter. His blast struck a legionnaire in the arm. Vega’s finished him off.
Kalie could’ve sworn the woman smirked.
A legionnaire popped up from behind cover. Their blasts struck him as one.
Six corpses littered the floor. The room was still.
Rising to her feet, she let out a sigh of relief. There had been six legionnaires. They’d got them all.
Breaths rattled in Kalie’s ear as an arm snaked around her neck. Soul-crushing cold swept through her veins. Too late, her gaze landed on Krii’s body. Six corpses, but not all six legionnaires.
Something cool pressed against her temple, paralyzing her. Every hair on her skin stood on end. A band of pressure closed around her ribs, making it impossible to breathe, not that she would’ve dared try.
There was a pulser jammed against her skull.
She could’ve cried. Not again. This couldn’t happenagain.
Wells’s eyes narrowed, and he rose with his pulser outstretched. “Don’t move, Hannover.”
“I’ll pull the trigger!” the legionnaire barked. “Drop your?—”
Heat seared her cheek, and a shrill shriek pierced her eardrum. The pulser fell away. Vibrations shot up her legs as something thudded to the floor.
Blinking rapidly, not daring to breathe, Kalie turned.
A smoking hole was carved between the soldier’s eyes.
Vega rose to her feet. Smoke blew from her pulser.
