Skye City: The Darkness of Emmilyn

The Face Off

The rebels working on the farm have been rounded up, herded like sheep by gunmen they probably thought were allies. A Nyberun soldier puts someone unfamiliar in handcuffs, and as Jardine gently protests, the soldier grabs another rebel. Rupert stares in our direction with a hint of red in his furious eyes. We are not as hidden among the hedges as I thought.

'How powerful is he?' Nelson whispers, clutching his phaser rather than the rifle strapped to his shoulder.

'What?' I say.

'How powerful is Rupert? What can he do?' Nelson says.

'Well, if he's anything like Dynah, he can set fire to people, blast them through the air. He just needs room so he doesn't hurt our guys.'

'Here's what we're gonna do. I'll sneak to another position. Be ready. We'll fire from different angles. Keep your phaser on stun and shoot as fast as you can. Don't worry about hitting friendlies. Once the men scramble, Rupert will hopefully do his thing.'

I remember the escape from the rebel base when Rupert failed to act, and I sigh, because the unlikeliest supersoldier is our only hope of getting out of this mess.

Nelson scurries past the hedge, disappearing around a cattle barn, and suddenly I am on my own. Fighting a war. Me. I lift my phaser with my gaze still fixed on Rupert who raises his eyebrows as his red eyes brighten. This time he seems ready to fight.

A golden beam of energy strikes a soldier as I spray fire with no time for precise aiming. Another golden beam is fired into the farmyard, courtesy of the hidden Nelson. Soldiers and rebels fall to the ground as others run for cover behind vats, vehicles and any object large enough to conceal them.

Jardine punches a soldier with his metal hand, smashing a hole in his face, then snatching his rifle as he flops. Rupert summons a ball of fire which engulfs two soldiers who roll around, screaming as they burn. Jardine lies flat and fires his newly-acquired rifle at a target I cannot see.

A huge but unfamiliar rebel leaps across the yard like no man I have ever seen, yelling, 'Ah-ran crush!' as both fists come down on a soldier's head. The victim falls to the ground, unconscious, and the huge man uppercuts another soldier, lifting him off his feet, and snatching his rifle.

Farm animals snort and bullets wail as Gary raggles a soldier's ankle, and I stun the bastard before he can shoot the sheepdog. Nelson stuns a soldier behind a tractor and emerges from cover to check for hiding places. Other rebels do the same, and I point my phaser into every corner, but see nothing other than bodies, some black and shrivelled.

Smig points a rifle at a squirming soldier and blood sprays onto his face as he fires mercilessly. 'That's the last of 'em,' he mutters, wiping his face and resting the rifle against his shoulder. I cover my eyes as Jardine fills unconscious Nyberun soldiers with lead.

'I don't know what the hell's going on, but I want answers.' Jardine stares at Oscar, Scoop, and two rebels unconscious on the ground, among bleeding and burnt enemy corpses – I feel sick. 'Smig, hose anyone still sleeping to wake them, and wash the blood away. Ahran, help me drag the bodies into the meat grinder. They'll become animal feed.'

Smig turns a tap at the farmhouse wall and picks up a hose, spraying water over those still sleeping. One by one, the rebels sit up, dripping wet as Jardine and Ahran drag away the bodies of enemies who were supposed to be allies. The farmyard is now pink with diluted blood.

Jardine passes a key to Smig and mutters, 'For the cuffs.' Smig uncuffs two soaking rebels as I hear a machine growling in a barn – it must be the meat grinder. Some funeral.

A barn door creaks open and Bex emerges, staring at the bodies with puffy red eyes and running makeup. Oscar and Scoop stand unharmed, dripping wet and muted, almost zombie-like in appearance. Yet their naturally misshapen bodies and contorted faces suddenly look as beautiful as Nelson's. They may have survived the encounter intact, but their state of shock confirms they are not built for war. Not many are.

The bloodied Jardine and Smig collect dropped rifles, climb into military jeeps and park them inside a barn, but I have no idea where they will hide the tanks and trucks. Tears pour from my eyes as Nelson walks over and hugs me. 'You were amazing,' he whispers, but I do not feel so amazing.