Augustus wanted to see for himself and wasn’t in the mood for taking chances. He raised his rifle and entered the main building.
Aimee couldn’t be allowed to become a myth. Alleged historians speculated about the mystery and false stories about his own demise. They were all wrong, and he didn’t want the same thing building up for her.
Future scribes would describe Aimee as a treacherous witch whose head went on display after losing against his freedom fighters.
Torches lighting the stone corridor had reduced to little more than a flicker. Last time he came here the place felt warm, lived in, decadent. Today it was much darker, and a cold draft brushed against him as he proceeded to Aimee’s chamber, or throne room, as she would have people believe.
The thought of her sitting smugly on her wooden Glastonbury chair made Augustus spit at the ground. Saliva dangled from the mouth hole in his mask. He wiped it away with his forearm.
Swinging his rifle into the chamber, Augustus glanced inside.
The eight torches placed around the walls, like the ones in the corridor, were also on their last legs. Small flames created dancing shadows across the ceiling and cast a weak glow around the room—a nice metaphor for Aimee’s time as Unity’s ruler. She was about to be extinguished if she wasn’t already.
A Persian rug stretched across the raised stone platform. Aimee’s wooden chair, with a green velvet cushion on top, sat in the middle of it.
This was the place where she judged so many people, under the protection of brutish hunters. Augustus wondered if she ever once looked in a mirror and judged herself. He had self-awareness. The man born to lead Earth needed it to remain humble.
Unable to control himself, Augustus ran to the chair, grabbed it by the front legs and smashed it against the wall. It buckled and the backrest splintered.
Augustus smashed it again and again until the structure collapsed and he was left holding two pieces of wood. The right piece had a sharpened end where it split away from the seat. He knelt down and stabbed it into the cushion.
Aimee still had to be located. He unclipped his radio. “All stations. Have you sighted Aimee Rivery yet?”
Nobody responded.
“All stations. Have you seen Rivery?”
The radio crackled. “No sign yet. I’ll send two of my men back to check the bodies at the western end.”
“Thank you. Out.”
It remained possible that she was hiding, watching proceedings from a safe distance and planning revenge. Augustus switched his radio to the shuttle channel. “Bring Maria down to the central residence.”
A CROATOAN PILOT shoved Maria through the gates, her wrists still secured by the alien restraints. She peered at the Unity casualties littered around the courtyard, caught sight of Augustus and froze.
The pilot shoved her in the back and she staggered forward.
“It’s time to see if any of these people really care about you,” Augustus said and grabbed her forearm. “This way, please.”
Augustus dragged her to a set of stone stairs that led up the rampart. She tripped on the second and fell to her knees.
“You’ve won,” she said, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “What do you want from me?”
Tightening his grip on her trembling arm, Augustus pulled her up. “I haven’t won until Aimee’s headless corpse hangs above the gates. Get moving.”
A croatoan slumped at the top of the twenty steps. Augustus leaned down and ripped the two tubes out of his nose to make sure. The alien’s skin crinkled and sucked against his enlarged cheekbones and bulbous eyes. Nobody would be taking him by surprise on this battlefield.
Maria hopped over the dead alien. Augustus pushed her against the waist-high wall. From this area of the rampart they had a good view of the burning city and the forests to the north and south.
Augustus ripped Maria’s hair back, slid a dagger out of his belt and held it across her throat. She gasped and struggled but was far too weak for a warrior like him. He glared around the surrounding area.
“Aimee Rivery,” Augustus shouted above the crackling fires in the city. “I have one of your little bitches here. If you don’t show yourself in two minutes, I’ll slit her throat.”
A trickle of blood ran down Maria’s neck as he increased the pressure of the blade against it.
Chapter 29
MIKE CRADLED Mai in his arms. Her breathing was shallow and her complexion had taken on a waxy quality. Why did this have to happen to her?
Why now?
Of all the times, this was when he needed her the most. He couldn’t lose her now, not while Unity was falling. The fighting was just above them now, the screams, the gunfire… all of it not a good sign. He heard Ryan’s voice yelling orders to the main defense, but Mike knew they had suffered badly.
The radio sat on the bench, broadcasting the news from those up on the surface. “I don’t know what to do,” Mike said to Mai.
Her weak hand gripped his wrist and squeezed. She spoke with words lacking energy. Breathy, almost incorporeal, she said, “You must finish the job.”
“I have to get you to safety,” Mike replied. “To the medical center.”
“It’s too late for me.”
“No, it’s never too late!”
The radio squelched with static before Ryan’s voice cut through. “Fall back. We’re overrun. Augustus has attacked from the opposite side; we’re finished. Aimee’s dead! Run! Run for safety.”
More static crackled after the sounds of gunfire in the background.
Mike slumped back against the bench’s leg. “It’s over,” he said, dropping his head to his chest. “Augustus has won…”
“No,” Mai said, shaking him by the shoulder. “Leave me here. Take the device. It’s almost done.”
Before Mike had a chance to protest, Augustus’ gloating voice bellowed out over the city’s PA system. Every word made Mike cringe and boil inside with rage.
“I’m getting you out of here,” Mike said.
He stood, pulling Mai up with him, cradling her in his arms, even though his damaged elbow screamed with agony. He didn’t care how much it hurt, it wouldn’t be comparable to the pain of losing Mai if he stayed around here to get shot like the others. Unity had fallen, despite his best attempts. Like all the other places, there came a time when you had to leave, find somewhere else to stay safe for a while.
“Where are we going?” Mai said. Her voice had become so faint he could barely make out the words.
“I don’t know,” Mike replied, “somewhere safe… far from here.”
He turned toward the exit and stepped through.
Ryan sped around the corner of the narrow hallway and nearly barged into them. Mike took a step back as Ryan squeezed into the main chamber. His face and torso were covered in dark blood staining his green shirt until it looked black.
“The weapon!” he said, panting, his eyes desperate. “Did you fix it? Please, we’ve no more time, they’re… oh my god, they’re already here. I’m so sorry, I—”
Sounds of heavy footsteps filled the cavern. Two armored croatoans and two men carrying rifles entered the hallway and gunned down Ryan with twin blasts of their guns. Ryan’s body shuddered half a dozen times before slumping to the ground like a slab of meat.
Mai moaned in Mike’s arms. He stepped back on shaking legs as the croatoans entered the room. They pointed their rifles at Mike. He closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of gunfire, all the while holding onto Mai and picturing the first time they had met, how beautiful she was and how smart. And that smile… that laugh.