Fireteam Delta J. Halpin (top 10 books of all time TXT) 📖

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Summers had, predictably, been one of the few people Synel approached. And he had, predictably, accepted. As they made their way through the crowd, Synel had insisted on keeping Summers close by. Whether that was sentimentality, or a healthy sense of self-preservation, Summers couldn’t decide.

He’d strapped himself with as much gear as he could carry, most of which was hidden behind his cloak. Which was why he cringed as Synel moved in close.

“Thank you for this,” she whispered.

Summers felt a hand brush against a flashbang he was fairly sure could take out his shoulder. He was momentarily grateful for the elves’ reserved nature as she pulled away.

“It’s nothing.”

They’d made it to the front gate in no time at all, most of the elves in the crowd having parted for their armed escort. It wasn’t like they had anything to take, after all.

The guards, however, were very interested indeed. Summers counted around fifty on the wall itself, and most of the eyes were on him.

No, actually, everyone’s eyes were on them. While the crowd may not want anything to do with them, they were still the most entertaining thing happening nearby. And if the gate opened for them . . . well, something told him more than a few of them would try to rush it.

Something to remind Synel of when they were done.

The woman spoke with a guard who stepped forward. Summers could only understand a few words, but the one that got a reaction was “weapons.”

Things wrapped up quickly after that, with Synel looking more upbeat than she had.

Summers had turned to head back to their wagons when he saw the flash of black metal.

About a dozen feet away, a group of elves approached the gate, wearing the same uniform as the guards. A few looked injured, but what they held in their hands was unmistakable.

They had a shitload of guns.

Chapter 20: Recruitment Drive

“You’re sure? Like, absolutely sure you saw it?” Nowak looked to Summers.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure.” As soon as Summers had gotten back, he’d told everyone what he’d seen. Without Asle, and forced to stick with the group, he’d been unable to do much more than gawk at the guards hauling in the weapons. “They looked pretty beaten up, too. If I had to guess, I’d say they were salvaged.”

“Just like ours, then,” Cortez noted.

Their own wagon had more weapons than they could count. Most were in working order, but a few had been more or less destroyed during the attack. Those were being used as spare parts.

“Could be another platoon, or what’s left of it?” Logan speculated.

“Ain’t that bad for us?” Cortez asked. “If they got wiped out, then there goes our shortcut home.”

“No,” Logan started. “We got to the city as fast as we could. There’s no way whoever took the town and the people they got these guns from are one and the same. That squad’s still out there.”

“Gotta agree, but that’s good. It means that whoever’s here was committed enough to send a lot of people. That could mean they had an exit strategy.” Nowak looked at Synel, who was yelling orders to the rest of the caravan. They were getting ready to head out after the guard’s agreement to let them into the city. “Summers, think you can get Synel to ask around? See if any of the locals know about the guns?”

“I can try. You think they might have another one of those gates to our world around here?”

“Maybe.”

Summers looked at the city in front of them. It was a monster compared to where they’d come from, rivaling even a smaller, modern city. The walls were thirty feet high, and regular patrols walked its length. Given the size of the gates they’d be headed to, he had doubts they’d be able to shoot their way out, like they had in the last city. It would be a whole lot messier, at least.

“Asle, you going to be ready to head out soon?” Logan looked to the girl, who was fastening a harness to the cow. She nodded.

Summers sighed.

“Guess we’re doing this, then.”

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Summers sat at the head of the wagon, watching the crowd. Guards had been sent out from the gate, clearing a path for their procession, making things significantly less stressful for the small group. Now that he didn’t have the threat of being torn apart hanging over him, he got a chance to survey the crowd.

He saw guards keeping the peace. A few had tied up a man, hauling him through a heavily guarded side door in the city’s walls. More were handing out some kind of hardtack as a few of the refugees followed them around.

At least they were actively trying to keep people from dying on the city’s doorstep.

Asle had her head poked out over the top of the wagon, watching the crowd, just as he was. Summers hadn’t seen Beorn’s family, and with a group this large, they could look for a week solid and still end up missing them. But he wasn’t going to stop her. Something told him she’d just blame herself if something else happened to that family.

A shout caught Summers’ attention. By the wall, a group of young men were being rounded up, huddled beside the mass of guards blocking the gate. Most looked content to be there. However, their families had apparently taken exception to something, and a fight was brewing.

Summers realized that the guards hadn’t been handing out food. They’d likely just been paying off families. Probably in exchange for volunteers. One such guard led a teen boy toward the others as the family shouted something back.

“They’re recruiting,” Nowak observed. “Smart. I mean, better than waiting for the riot.”

Then, from the mass of guards, a man stepped forward, a young