Skye City: The Darkness of Emmilyn

Relocation

The gang sit in the farmhouse kitchen among the rebels, some of who are standing, staring at one another with weary faces. Many are soaked with water, some with enemy blood, some with their own blood, and some are holding stolen rifles. Scoop and Oscar who were earlier so eager to fight, now look more stunned than anyone, like lost little boys. Being a real soldier is not tough or exciting. It feels terrifying. Jardine stands among bloody footprints and taps his holowatch:

'Akari, Central command.'

'What is going on, Akari? We've just been attacked by invading troops at Murtyn Farm. They're supposed to be on our side, but they had no interest in being friendly.'

'Shit, not more problems... Things are getting chaotic to say the least. The invasion started ahead of schedule, about two hours ago. We weren't notified of the change of plan until they landed. Our EMPs were somehow detonated without our instruction. Skye City and two thirds of Medio have no power, including three of our bases. Good job the armouries are shielded. We're gonna need those mechs...'

'Well, the power's still on at Medio Base Four. I've just spoken to them, arranged to go there.'

'Yeah, that's one of three unaffected. It must've been just out of pulse range. What about you guys? Is anyone hurt?'

'No, we're all fine. Teenage kids saved our arses. If it wasn't for Rupert, Nelson, and Emmi...'

'Arturo's sister? Must run in the family.'

'Yeah, yeah, I want answers, not small talk.'

'I can only assume this was mistaken identity–'

'Don't be naïve, Akari, they knew who we were, arrived with intent. Wanted our base and equipment for themselves.'

'Could you tell which nationality?'

'Judging by their accents, they were from eastern Lamantia. Maybe Nyberun or Verdajan, hard to tell, even for someone who spent months in Batavia.'

'I would expect better from Nyberu, especially given our people have spent the last two hours sharing intel and discussing strategy. I'm thinking the Verdajans are getting too big for their boots. I'll make some calls, tell General Rama that if he wants the assistance of the Rebellion, he gets his men under control.'

'He better had. Next time we encounter troops, we won't be taken by surprise.'

'One more thing, what happened to the soldiers?'

'Cattle food.'

Jardine deactivates his holowatch and looks to the packed kitchen table, saying: 'We're leaving this place. We'll go to Medio Base Four until we can figure out what's going on. We'll be safer there. Let's pack the weapons into the transport and let the animals out to graze.' Jardine and the other rebels disappear, and I watch them walking back and forth past the kitchen window, carrying weapons and plastic crates. Even the rebel leaders seem nervous, and if these bad-asses are nervous, that makes me shit-scared.

'Holy crap, Emmi, you saved us. I cannot believe what I've just witnessed. You truly are amazing.' Bex gawps.

'Just like my brother is amazing? And every other killer is amazing?' I stamp my foot.

'We could be d-dead now, if it wasn't for you and Nelson,' Oscar interrupts. 'We seriously need more training so next time we're ready.'

'You'll never be ready, Oscar, none of us will. Let's just wait for Arturo to return and get the hell out of here.' I stare at the dusty glass light-fitting on the ceiling as my legs grow restless, yet reluctant to stand. Damn, we are moving again, running again, and the running is never going to stop.

A bunch of rebels come through the kitchen door, and the tall muscly man called Ahran stands before the dining table, revealing his peculiar face – broad nose and thick teeth, deepset eyes, and a sloping forehead. And I would rather not sound mean, but he appears about as human as Scoop. I know who this must be.

'You're the neanderthal, aren't you?' I whisper and he turns slightly, rigidly to face me.

'Yes.'

'My brother spoke of you when he returned from the highlands, said you're brave and strong. He wasn't kidding,' I say.

'You're Arturo's sister?'

'You can call me Emmi. I know you helped my brother and Myla at the zoo. They wouldn't have made it without you. Thank you.'

'Your brother is also brave and strong, as is Myla. I would not have made it to freedom without them. We fought guards, leopards, monsters. It should have been impossible, but we made it.

'Arturo is one of my few real friends. In the mountains, I saw him become a skilled soldier. I understand he is now incredibly powerful, as strong as Dynah. The two of them should make great team. I hope they return soon.'

'Yeah, me too. If we can handle a bunch of soldiers, Arturo and Dynah can, erm... They'll bring Myla back, won't they? They have to. I mean it's just one last crazy thing to get through...'

The neanderthal bows his head as though unsure how to respond and the silence grows uncomfortable because reality is dawning. In this room filled with tough guys, rebel soldiers, and would-be heroes, no-one is attempting to lift spirits, or offer tough talk, and we did not even lose anyone in the attack.

Fear is still the only emotion I can sense, in fact the fear is growing. And not just my own fear, nor even the fear of my friends. Fear is coursing through the veins of everyone who cannot admit to being afraid. And I could mock their previous bravado, but the truth is fear is inescapable because death is inescapable.

Life is just the process of running from death for as long as you can, but it catches you eventually. And death is currently right on our tail so the fear is strong.

Jardine returns to the kitchen and leads the gang and a few armed rebels to one of two transports waiting outside the farmhouse. The space between the seats is filled with grey plastic crates, making things a tight squeeze as we climb aboard in a state of utter confusion.

We journey to the outskirts of Medio, muted, and the driver changes direction as we see a convoy of military vehicles, just like the ones who shot at Nelson and me in the countryside.

'Looks like the war has well and truly begun,' Nelson mutters as we watch the convoy through the small windows. The rebels are gripping their rifles, but the invaders ignore our presence and turn onto another road. Just as well because their tanks could blow us to fragments.

We arrive at a complex of buildings, and a shutter rolls up on the biggest one as we pass forklift trucks in the courtyard. The transports park inside a busy hangar section, and as ours comes to a stop, the door is slid open by Jardine.

We exit the vehicle, entering a building near-identical to the base attacked by the San Terian Guard when Arturo awoke from his operation. And I think I can be forgiven for not feeling so safe.