The Governing Council had strict rules in place to keep unawakened humans safe—not from portals or the monsters that lived inside of them, but from delvers. Those rules mostly governed the higher ranks. Even up to C-Rank, a delver could pass for human under most circumstances. Their auras weren't fully developed yet, and they couldn't be used as a weapon yet.
But even an E-Ranker's body was a walking weapon.
The weakest E-Rankers approached Olympic levels of strength, and even a beginning mage's Unique skill was more of a threat than a man with a handgun. The reality was that a small percentage of people were always armed, always dangerous, and expected to control themselves. That almost always happened—at least when it came to unawakened humans. But not always. Especially not in a GC training center. Sometimes, accidents happened.
Which is why Stephen was chilling in the entryway instead of at the desk by Jessie.
Not that she'd have minded if he'd found a seat in the library. It was high-rank training hours, so it wasn't like he'd run into some B-Rank with a wild aura in there. And she could probably get one of the other reps to cover the desk. Library duty was everyone's favorite, because it was quiet, and most of the delvers who needed to study didn't want to push their egos on anyone else. But a few of the other reps owed her. She could maneuver them into switching duties.
But Stephen was nothing if not a rule-follower. So he was waiting in the entryway and fiddling with his phone. Meanwhile, Jessie was dealing with a pair of fresh E-Rankers.
"Okay, next, I need you to pull up your statuses. That'll let me register them into the GC's systems and get both of you plugged into the alert system," she said.
"How?" The older one, a man a year or so older than Kade, asked.
Jessie held back from rolling her eyes. "All you need to do is think about your status and skills, and the read-out should pop up."
"No. How do you see it?"
"I've got a special app that lets me see a read-out of whatever you're willing to share. We need to see updates to your build relatively frequently if you're growing. Otherwise, the alert system's going to assume you're a lot weaker than you are, and it might even stop flagging you for portals you could—and should—be clearing."
"Alright. Here it is." The guy screwed his eyes shut, and Jessie resisted the urge to tell him he didn't need to do that.
"Okay, you're probably going to want to go healer with a Unique like that. And as for you, ma'am, you're going to be a fighter. Unless you try something wild, but that'll take a lot of time and dedication."
The woman sighed, then nodded slowly. "I figured. I did my research before I got here."
As the two fresh delvers headed into the library to start figuring out their builds, Jessie sneaked a wave to Stephen, who did the same back to her. Then she pulled her phone out and sent a quick text.
Jessie: All quiet here. Doing fine. Tara's checking in like you said. At work for the day. Good luck for the next week or so.
Kade: Thanks. Going to lose coverage sometime today. Love you, shrimp.
Jessie: Bleh….
Jessie: Love you too. Stay safe.
The packed, yellow-gray earth and scaly, cracked riverbeds carried on as we crossed into New Mexico. The Monster Eaters disappeared into the distance, their mobile fortress and school bus engines revving in a strange counterpoint to the silent dune buggies full of howling, sun-burnt men and women. Late in the second day, as we pushed down a beat-up dirt road, we encountered an angry purple portal almost in the middle of the road. It hadn't broken yet, but the convoy still ground to a halt half a mile from it.
Angelo and his team stepped through, and both B-Rank teams assembled outside while we shifted back to cover the convoy. Ellen kept her binoculars on the portal for almost two hours until it winked out. "Whew. Good thing Angelo was with us," she said.
"Yeah. He's ridiculous. I'm surprised it took them two hours to clear an A-Rank portal," Raul said.
"That one was a low A-Rank, too. Portals get way harder at B-Rank. That's why the Carlsbad break hasn't been cleared. It's an S-Rank, and it's established. It'd take multiple cities' delvers to get there," Jeff said quietly.
Then, the convoy had to wait another two hours as the portal spat up the strike team and they hurried into a heavy-walled tent. When they emerged one at a time, they all reeked of chemicals. Only after the other five had been through did Angelo finally appear. His battle robe was intact, but the rest of his outfit seemed scorched and misshapen. He entered the tent and didn't come out for a long time.
The convoy camped near the cleared portal that night, and no one met the Light of Dawn's eyes. His aura wouldn't stop pulsing waves of pressure. Everyone knew what had happened. He'd gone all-out in the portal world.
But even with the unexpected A-Rank portal, we were still making good time.
The desert gave way as we passed through a ruined old mission town, then through a swampy place filled with giant, gray birds. I half-expected them to be E-Rank, but no—they were Earth-native. Then we turned east.
A sign greeted us, and a line of tattered, rusted fencing and coiled wire. 'You Are Entering White Sands Missile Range: Birthplace of America's Missile and Spa—' The rest was cut off and faded.
"Alright, everyone report to the convoy in the next half-hour," Derrick said over the radio.
"Sounds to me like the Monster Eaters were wrong. We haven't seen any A-Rank activity besides that portal, and that wasn't White Sands. That was separate," the Portal Tyrant said.
The rules for the meeting were simple. The A and S-Rankers were talking like it was just a casual chat. If we wanted to say something, we needed to raise our hands like kids and wait to be called on. It was grating, but necessary. There were just too many of us to do things like the Monster Eaters did.
"That may be true, Terrel, but we must also consider that we have gotten lucky so far. Nevertheless, this is the point at which everyone must step up. Our goal is the way station in Alamagordo. The convoy needs to make it by nightfall," Angelo said quietly.
A hand went up.
"I mean, I don't disagree, Angelo. But I don't think we need to be overwhelmingly paranoid. Whatever's going on with the White Sands break, it hasn't attacked the convoy yet."
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"That is true. However, until we reach Carlsbad, we must treat that break as a threat. Yes?"
The C-Ranker whose hand had been up lowered it. She stared at the floor as Angelo's suppressed aura passed over her. "Um, why don't you just go clear the portal? You just cleared an A-Rank one, right? It should be possible."
Angelo nodded slowly. His aura retracted even further, and I breathed as the weight left. "The White Sands break is considered the second most-protected break in Phoenix's area of influence. We believe our team is capable of clearing it, but it would take multiple days to lay siege before we could enter the portal itself. The convoy would be at risk that entire time. I have proposed clearing it in preparation for an assault on the Carlsbad break, but at present, there are no plans to do so. Next question."
"So, we're going to try to sneak by and reach Alamagordo?" Jeff asked.
"Correct." Angelo turned back to the group. "What is our plan, Deborah?"
"We're going to pull everyone in tight. We'll break into three large teams. The outside perimeter will be the strike team. We'll move quickly and try to break up any larger groups of monsters into manageable chunks. Closer to the convoy, we'll have two C-Rank teams and a B-Rank team on either side. They're going to be coordinated by one of the B-Rankers and Derrick. Their objective is to overwhelm anything that gets through," Deborah said.
Then she continued without stopping. "The trucks are going to burn hard. We'll strip two of them and have the covering delver teams riding so they don't exhaust themselves sprinting. The strike team won't have vehicle support."
Terrel Young snorted. "We won't need it."
"That's the theory," Deborah confirmed. "We're expecting to get hit mostly from the right side as we move past the north and east sides of the break area. I want B-Omega, C-Epsilon, and C-Delta on that side. B-Alpha, C-Beta, and C-Lambda will cover the left side."
I nodded as Jeff's hand went up. Angelo pointed at him, and he cleared his throat. "We're C-Delta. What's the expected casualty percentage?"
"We expect everyone to survive," Deborah said. I couldn't help but feel her gaze on me as she said it. "Derrick's going to be monitoring every team, and he'll rotate people in and out of the front line as needed. He'll also have a small reserve—we have a team and a half of independent delvers and guild members to throw at any problem areas. The strategy should get us past the missile range. It's worked before."
The strategy made sense to me. The strike team was strong enough to handle anything that came across the desert, and the combination of two C and one B-Rank teams would be able to handle any B-Rank monsters that slipped through and hold their own against an occasional A-Rank one. Leaving half of the escort as a reserve allowed the convoy to cover any weaknesses, and the independents and assorted guild delvers without teams gave just a little extra insurance.
I didn't see any glaring problems. The moment we met the Boneyard world's monsters, the plan would fall apart—but wasn't that normal for a plan? We had plenty of firepower to make it past the White Sands break, no matter what Yarrow had said.
"Does anyone have any other concerns? Questions about what the goal is? Suggestions Deborah might have missed?" Angelo asked. "No? In that case, get some rest. There will be none of that tomorrow."
Delvers started setting up their tents around the inside of the truck fortress. I started to join them, but Deborah's voice cut across the quiet, focused camp. "B-Omega, C-Epsilon, and C-Delta, come meet with me. B-Alpha, C-Beta, and C-Lambda, be ready for the same meeting in half an hour."
I rolled my eyes and nodded.
"Okay, who's been in a Boneyard? Most of you? Good. That's what we're up against," she said. She tapped her tablet, and a horror made of razor-sharp, bleached-white bones appeared. It looked like six clawed arms erupting from a central spine, every one of the arms covered in spikes a yard long—or longer. It was impossible to get a good sense of scale. "This is a Crawling Spine. It's a pretty common A-Rank monster. Heavy physical attacks—the kind that dent my shield—an aura that fills delvers with dread and compounds with any other similar auras nearby, and no clear weak spots. The only way to stop it is to break it apart, then break the parts apart. They stay alive until they're all killed."
For the next half-hour, we listened as Deborah rattled off information about A and B-Rank Boneyard monsters. When the other teams filtered in, she cleared her throat. "That's just scratching the surface, but it should give you some idea of what to expect. You'll need to be ready for whatever shows up. I don't want anyone to die tomorrow, and I want all the trucks to get through. Understood?"
Her eyes bored into me—from her aura, it definitely felt like she wanted me to die. But I nodded. "Yeah, I understand," I said.
"Good. Don't disappoint me, then, Noelstra."
The desert wind blew my hair as I stared off to the southwest.
We'd been crossing next to the White Sands Missile Range for almost an hour, moving as fast as the trucks could move. They were bumper to bumper and three abreast on the road, bouncing into each other. The air was filled with the sounds of diesel engines, screaming metal, and tension.
The tension was the worst part.
I couldn't get Deborah Callahan out of my head, either. She had to be up to something, but I had no idea what—and that bothered me almost as much as the reality that I couldn't do much to stop it if I couldn't tell what it was.
It reminded me of the delver team in the Rime portal. Deborah was just as sketchy as they'd been, but unlike them, she wasn't giving me anything to work with. And unlike that mess, I had no shot at killing her if she decided to make a play. Even at C-Rank, she could almost certainly tank my entire team for long enough to kill us all. The gulf between us and A-Rank was just too big.
No, my best play was to keep my head down and do my part for the convoy—and, as much as I hated to admit it, to trust that Deborah was being honest about needing to work together. Not that I wanted to follow up on her offer to talk alone. I wasn't stupid. But I could trust her to pull her weight, and she could trust us to pull ours when the White Sands monsters showed up.
Only, they weren't showing up.
"Where are they?" Ellen asked as she peered through her binoculars. She was covered in sunburns that healed quickly, only for her skin to burn again. We all were—our delvers' fast healing was a disadvantage in that regard. No tanning meant constant burning.
"I don't know," I muttered. "There should have been something. Even if it's just Angelo going nuclear, there should have been something by now. I'm…"
"Are you looking forward to this fight?" Jeff asked.
I nodded.
I couldn't help it. I'd tested myself against C-Rank monsters, and I'd come out on top. The fight against the spider Khalir had convinced me that I was strong enough to handle almost anything at C-Rank—maybe not a portal boss, but any monster—by myself, and I'd only grown stronger since then. I needed to test myself. To know where my limits were, and figure out how far past them I could push.
And my meditation, as much as I'd hate to admit it to Jessie, was helping. My core felt…not stronger. The cracks were still there. But like it was starting to recover. That recovery would be a slow process. It'd take longer than I wanted it to. But it was happening. And as long as I didn't try to push it further, it'd keep happening.
I was itching for a real fight. And the glimmering white sands to the southeast were quiet and still.
"Any news from the strike team?" I asked Ellen.
She shrugged. "They haven't done anything, as far as I can tell from the radio and the view. It's so weird. We should have seen something," she said, echoing me.
I kept watching, a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. The desert flew by as the convoy's engines roared and the stink of hot diesel fumes hung over us.
So did a cloud of uncertainty and stress.
Sophia, especially, was full of it. I put a hand on her shoulder as she stared at a dune in the distance. She jumped, then glanced at me before her eyes flicked back to the dune. "I keep thinking I see something moving over there," she whispered.
I looked for almost a minute. Nothing. The dune, just like all the others, was still. "There's nothing there."
"I know that," Sophia said. "But I can't help it. It feels like there should be something."
A shadow flickered by as we passed under one of the massive, portal metal radio towers that kept a thin line of communication between Carlsbad Fortress and Phoenix running.
Ellen kept watching, panning her binoculars across the dune-covered horizon. "The strike team should be kicking up dust from the fighting they're doing. Where's the dust?"
The convoy turned south and started its run for Alamagordo. We were making great time—way better time than anyone had expected.
And that was—
The radio squawked. "Convoy teams, Sarah Cullman here. We have a visual on the White Sands portal's location. Something's wrong. It's gone."
"It's what?" Derrick asked.
That feeling of stress redoubled, and so did the pit in my stomach. Something had gone wildly wrong here. And we were in the middle of it.
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