Panic, page 11
“Tree of Dionis,” Jarel said and raised an arm as his roots twisted together.
Rising into the sky, the mobile tree swung with several axes. The volcanic eye in its center shifted its gaze erriely to Altramex. Opening its mouth, a torrent of flames released in a blast of blue fire. Taking the brunt of the attack head-on, Altramex stood, cross-armed and unfazed as the inferno threatened to swallow him whole. Dying down, it left him without a scratch.
In a flurry, the trees axes swung about to slam into Altramex. Stepping into a punch, the man’s fist hit wood. Spraying into the air, the tree splintered before shattering into pieces.
Rushing him, Jarel brought his golden blade up and around, in a chilling sweep. Altramex’s eyes widened, and dodging the attack, he drew his own sword. Sparks flew with the grate of metal, their blades colliding met again in an onslaught of brazen attacks. Blood flew as Jarel marred flesh, cutting deep into one of the man’s arms. Pushing him back, his roots slashed at him and stabbing at the open wound, kept it from healing.
“I’m surprised,” Altramex grunted, flipping back through the air. “That sword—”
Catching him by the ankle, wood recoiled, slamming him into the ground. Like a barrage of cannon fire, roots punished him relentlessly. Suddenly, a surge of energy exploded in a blast which blew back the brambles atop him in a rain. Altramex took a breath. His golden veins rippled along his forearms in a brilliant glow with his increased power. The roots, however, wasted no time.
“This ends now!” Jarel cried and clapped his palms together.
Holding a hand toward the sky, he watched molten rock collect in the air above. Suddenly, a spear erupted from the ground. Grazing him with the tip, it shredded Jarel’s nano armor, missed his chest by a fraction of an inch. Rolling to the side, he jumped to his feet and willed his roots after Altramex in a frenzy.
Rising before him, a stone golem slammed into the fleeing man and enwrapped him with its arms, locking him in place. Twisting themselves around his legs then torso, the roots sucked at his titus and transferred it to Jarel. In a surge of energy, molten rock blasted into the air to hang like a mini satellite within the sky as it converged.
Jarel looked on. Incredible, he thought as the collection of rock floated up around him. So, this is the power of a Raven. Now, I turn it against him.
Tossing the golden blade up, a root whipped free from the asteroid above and curling around the sword, the branch pushed the weapon through the golem. Metal pierced flesh as the blade entered the man.
Now, it all comes down to accuracy, Jarel thought and closing his eyes, took in a breath. Opening them, he exhaled and brought his hand down.
“Die!”
Dropping from the sky, several hundred tons of rock shot for the ground. The small asteroid slammed into Altramex, and with its impact, the devastated landscape buckled. Leaning back, Jarel willed wood and rock to enwrap him as he sank into the ground. Lightning erupted from the earth as the asteroid exploded. Dust, debris, and high-speed winds blew over the decimated city, bringing the battle to an end.
Jarel stepped into the crater, golden spear in hand. Picking his way through the cooling destruction, he followed the sound of groaning into the rocks below. The sword had done its job. Blood leaked from the gaping wound in the man’s abdomen where the blade had embedded itself, pinning him to the ground. Stone crumbled as Altramex slowly pushed the boulders aside like a wiggling worm. Climbing atop one of the rocks, Jarel looked down at the man, watching as he struggled to free his left arm.
“Little fool,” the man chuckled, catching his eyes. He pushed against the boulder. “It seems I underestimated you. No matter, once I—”
Hurling the spear, its tip penetrated the man’s skull, splintering the bone. Staring cross-eyed, Altramex slowly laid back as his body went into a seizure. Jerking spasms shook his corpse as blood and saliva spilled from his quivering lips.
Jarel narrowed his eyes and continued to watch as the man’s body shook in an uncontrollable tremble before finally going still.
“You killed my brother in arms,” Jarel said, pulling out the spear. “An apology would have sufficed.”
SEQUEL TO PANIC
READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM
PERSECUTION
Book Four of the Dark Light Series
BUY NOW
This excerpt has been set for this book and may not reflect the order of content in the forthcoming novel.
Shock And Awe
Somewhere on the Western Border — Miron Province
Time of Day: Evening
“Fox One,” Colonel Thompson said and swallowed. His fingers tightened on the dark radio. “Mission is a go.”
“Copy.” Major Avarice pressed his display. Tapping in a code, he paused. A bead of sweat rolled across his brow and dropped onto sealed rubber. Within the gas mask, he licked his lips. The jet shuddered. His body jerked forward and black straps tightened against his jump suit.
Mechanisms turned beneath—the automated gearshift activated and cogs churned. Turbo emissions blew through jet-pipes in a black propulsion. Head snapped back, the Major’s chest rose as oxygen pumped from his mask into his lungs; under thousands of pounds of gravitational pressure, he couldn’t breath on his own. Dark plumes shot out into open air, guzzled from tripled turbines, the aircraft’s reinforced frame reverberated under strain.
Avarice gasped. White eyes slowly turned bloodshot as blood slid in a trickle from his nose. He blinked and his vision wavered despite the flooded oxygen. The strain of g-forces changed puffed clouds to a streamed blur in open sky. A slit widened beneath the jet and retracting from the aircraft, the missile bay of the R1 Reaper detached it’s anti-grav catch.
Released, a high-altitude air-to-surface warhead hung suspended—the R1 Reaper narrowly leaving it behind at the speed of sound. Tilting, the projectile plunged, emitting a high-pitched squeal. Splitting the air, it dropped from an altitude of 60,000 feet. The sputter of sparks ignited into flame and the rocket blazed, launching the missile into a shivering spiral. The roar of the jet thundered overhead, the sound of its engines catching up in the aftermath of a turbine long gone.
Major Avarice watched, tracking milliseconds. “Fox—Fox One to Grey Wolf.” He coughed and sucked in a breath. “Critical impact point imminent. Terminal velocity of drop is Mach 33, over.”
At home station, Colonel Thompson squinted. Furrowed, his expression was tense. He leaned over the digital array of the operation deck. Noting the jet’s flight path at a glance, he followed the trajectory of its “gift.” On course, the warhead did not waver. The colonel suddenly stiffened, back straight against an angular chair. “Titan Breaker strikes in ten seconds.” Sweat trickled down his wrinkled brow. “Prepare for—”
The bomb collided with the earth. Penetrating deep into the face of the mountain, it detonated. Snow vanished as vapor rose—the side of the peak blowing out. Shattered glass melted and the nose of the jet crumpled, compressing in the blast’s oncoming shock wave. Wings snapped like twigs as fire engulfed them. Static buzzed over the radio connection. Major Avarice was gone. Placing a hand onto the table, Colonel Thompson closed his eyes.
Digesting the birth of a one gigaton bomb, the ground tremored, rippling out in a force that cratered the earth. Thick black plumes rose, infecting the air with toxins as its legacy raged below. Wildlife eradicated, nature was scoured of its beauty. Once proud forests smoldered amid bright flames, illuminating the charred earth beneath the cover thick smog. Poisonous vapors swirled crusted rivers, haunting them in a ghostly fog, the wide banks blown dry as pocketed towns were erased in obliteration void the ash of bones. From heaven, jagged particles sprinkled as a rain of ash fell. Abrasive, the tiny fragments showered a black consecration upon the bombed in land.
The withstander of time immemorial and guardian of Western peace, the once impenetrable Titan Mountains had succumbed to breach. Lofty peaks fissured by technology, betrayed a smoking black scar gaping through the broken border of two hostile nations. A cavernous fracture in the mountainous wall, it was Kaiga’s declaration of the centuries old great war, resumed.
At the mountains’ base, the Insie Sea raged. Tyrannical winds whipped the waves into surging tides, instigating an unpredictable flux of high mass that came crashing down. Bubbles swirled within churning water, roiling in the irate beginnings of an unnatural storm. Fighting to flee, the tail of a grade airliner turned and faltered, unable to resist nature’s will. Buffeted with a force that snapped wings, birds opened beaks in empty squawks, their cries lost alongside their flocks as they blew out of the sky. Amid the sea’s tumultuous tirade, boulders began to fall.
Tumbling from the quaking alps in a rockslide, the fracture widened as the cliff face sundered. The range rumbled in a shift that quaked the planet, the aftermath of the gigaton blast running through it in a second tremor. Breaking off, the great peaks shuddered as slabs collapsed in on a weakened foundation, keeling in like stone glaciers. Caving in a cloud of dust and snow, the first to fall emphasized the impact of more falling bombs. The detonations sent rippling shock waves that resounded deep within the planet to its plates, enough for one to shift.
Over a thousand miles away, the Nairobi Desert’s golden sand slid, descending across dunes as the water of Lake Aspire, some further province away, sloshed into high waves. Culminating with the bombardment’s reverberation, the Titan Mountains partial collapse perturbed the planet to its core. In the three hundred years that the range had guarded the Western Hemisphere—Kaiga, had finally pried a hole.
Shadowed by a background of ten capsized battle ships, the insignia of the Kaigan Federation emblazoned along their flanks, uniformed bodies floated, their red star crests descending to the bottom of the sea. In the folds of the darkened sky, lightning flickered. Bright amidst the smog, its flash blanketed light across the tragedy and illuminated dead frigates within the raging tsunami—the waves swallowing them whole.
The roar of jets tore the howling wind. Armed to the teeth, they cradled tools of death beneath their wings. Rising into the atmosphere, the planes left an ear-splitting screech behind. Their thin trailing smoke crossed unauthorized airspace, alluding to their nation’s ominous intentions. Mountain range broken, and territory open, for the first time, Victashia lay naked and exposed. Thus, for Kaiga, time was of the essence.
The roil of turbines ignited and capsized battleships turned back over, righting themselves on activated controls. Water sprayed as gallons washed off decks, dumping back into the sea. Engines churned, jumped by the ignition of conversion-motor turbines. Gusts of steam blew back with the warships’ initial push off. Extending, massive propellers turned flat at their base, lifting the vessels with a slow heave as anti-grav transmitters slowly forced the enormous bodies into the air.
The aircraft carriers were the first to rise. No sooner shadowed by sea-to-air battleships, the shipcrafts’ ascent panned out at an altitude of 40,000 feet. Eeking their way through the mountain rift, Operation Persecution had begun.
MEET THE AUTHOR
A pseudonym for the siblings Davena and Jason—D.J. Hoskins is the author of 19 books and counting. From military sci-fi to contemporary romance, action and adventure, poetry and chess, they write across a wide span of genres with the aim to immerse readers into a visual and imaginative literary experience. Current university students, they’re striving to make their way in the world.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We love our readers and beta readers.
Personally, we expressly want to thank Sue Lillywhite, Alexandra Baldacchino and Cair-Paravel De Loulay for volunteering to aid us in editing this book. No man is an island and we’re no exception. Without the gracious help of our volunteer editors, this book would still be riddled with errors that we previously overlooked. Their feedback and support means the world to us and we feel so lucky to have them on our team.
We truly wouldn’t be where we are today without our readers.
Thank you so much for your support.
D.J. Hoskins, Panic
