Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best management books of all time .txt) 📗

training kicked in, and he stopped just in time, crouching and peering down the crossway. The huge vehicle bay was before him, a pair of flyers parked on the far side. Silent Night didn’t use it for anything except formations. That was where the assault had started.

Alan and Rex stood back to back, fending off Pushtal from every direction. Three Humans were down nearby. Shadow couldn’t tell who, or if they were alive. The Pushtal were getting in each other’s way as they crowded in on Human and Zuul, and no one was shooting. Shadow readied his gun before realizing why—by luck or planning, Alan and Rex were making their stand near the bays’ oxygen lines. Blow those this close to the exterior of the base, and no one was getting out that corridor alive.

Shadow took a deep breath and counted. Nine more Pushtal—eight, as Rex slammed the butt of his gun so hard, the Pushtal’s skull collapsed around it like pudding. He could take out some from this angle. He wasn’t the best shot, but he could—

* * *

Alan fought furiously, the time since the betrayal a blur in his mind now. He should have known better than to trust Pushtal. His son Drake had requested to meet them in CASPers, and he hadn’t listened to him. Now they were overrun with screaming, spitting, enraged cats. Killing his men!

The initial exchange after the cat with the eye patch had started the fight hadn’t gone as badly as it could have. Men went down in the rec room, but so did almost all the cats. He paused a second to be sure Shadow and Rex had the situation in hand, then went after the leader, who had seemingly fled. Again, he was an idiot.

Three troopers fell in with him, right into an ambush. A bullet creased his thigh and took the top off one of his men’s heads. Alan dove over the fallen man, firing at the enemy. Then more Pushtal were coming in. Clearly the explosion had breached the wall somewhere. He was about to be overrun.

“Got your back, Dad!” Rex yelled, and suddenly he was back to back with his son.

There wasn’t time to tell the boy how much he loved him, or his other children. There wasn’t enough time to fight them all. His gun was empty, and he clubbed a cat across the face. They were struggling to get at him, like Pushtal often did. They wanted to use their claws and teeth. Well, Humans didn’t have claws and teeth, they had weapons.

His big knife was out, and he stabbed one through the neck, twisting and tearing it away.

“We got this, Dad!” Rex yelled.

“I think we’re going to—” He didn’t finish the sentence.

* * *

Shadow watched in slow motion as the clawed hand swept in and savaged his father. The man who’d raised them all, held them with their mother when they were sick, and helped teach them to walk staggered and dropped to his knees.

“DAD!” It was more a visceral howl of pain and loss than a word, and Rex whipped around at the sound. Alan sank out of sight, the Pushtal crowded in, and Shadow started shooting. He wouldn’t hit the oxygen lines. He wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t watch his father die, nor his brother, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t.

Everything blurred around him, his vision becoming a tunnel focused on only the next striped back attacking his family. He got a sight picture and squeezed the trigger. Bang, bang, bang, three well-placed shots. Blood blossomed on stripes, and it spun away, howling in pain.

They saw him now, and some turned, running toward him, and he closed with them. Sight picture, stroke the trigger. Pushtal falling. Another sight picture, another shot. One after another, he serviced the targets. Then the gun ran empty. The weapon fell away as he bared his teeth and lunged. The feline screamed, its voice suddenly turning into a gurgle as Shadow’s teeth ripped. The enemy fell away, and he leaped, blowing through three more.

Fur and claws and teeth everywhere, he had his teeth in a throat and yanked, but someone else fell on top of him, claws raised and gleaming, and then as quickly as it hit him, the weight was gone, lifted away.

Rex stood there, offering a hand. “Come on, Brother, let’s finish this.”

Shadow growled in exultation and reached to take the hand—

Blood splattered his face, hitting his eyes, his mouth, blood everywhere, a sea of it. He shook his head to clear the blood from his eyes and saw Rex’s face above him, still proud to find his brother fighting, mouth open as though he were about to ask a question.

His expression still hadn’t changed when Rex fell to his knees, his chest a ruin, and Shadow shoved himself forward to catch his larger brother. It wouldn’t end this way. Not like this.

Rex’s eyes lost focus like Pierce’s, like their father’s.

The noise that left Shadow’s chest wasn’t a howl, a snarl, or even a whimper. It tore something in him, like an explosion in the stars, like a star dying, like death.

He never entirely remembered the next few minutes with any clarity, but when his eyes cleared, he was surrounded by the dead.

Pushtal, far too many. And his father. And his brother.

So much blood. He checked for vitals. There were none. First Dad, now his brother, the strongest among them. His heart staggered in his chest, shards stabbing with each breath.

Shadow threw back his head and howled until his throat was raw.

Then he stood once more. There were more Pushtal, there had to be. Eye Patch wasn’t in this pile of dead, and even space pirates couldn’t be stupid enough to think they’d take a base full of Human and Lumar mercs with dozens of soldiers.

He took a breath, reloaded