Gudsriki by Ari Bach Page A

she knew that pleasure would elude her with the incoming troops. She’d lost too much. The core of herself, she thought. She’d become soulless.
    Seven UKI soldiers were approaching, targeting her.
    â€œLeave the area, ma’am.”
    She went through the motions of a conversation. “I would, but my boat got blown up.” She was headed for the boat. She forgot why. But it was as good a purpose as any she had left. “Can I have one of yours?”
    â€œNo, ma’am, just walk away or swim. We don’t care.”
    She wasn’t that useless. “I’ll fight for you if you give me a boat.”
    â€œI’m not authorized to make that decision, ma’am.”
    â€œThen get someone who is.”
    â€œYou need to leave this area! Now or we will arrest you!”
    â€œOkay, fine, arrest me.”
    Seconds later all seven UKI soldiers were restrained on the ground in their own cuffs. The violence perked her up. Her sore fists reminded her of something good.
    â€œNow if I let you go, will one of you get someone who can lend me a boat?”
    â€œYes, ma’am….”
    Vibeke waited. Two Wolf cargopogos neared, drawing heavy fire from the UKI but keeping their distance just out of range until other pogos destroyed the artillery. Three platoons of soldiers from the UKI camp marched toward her, fronted by a very angry-looking officer.
    â€œYou have ten seconds to vacate before we open fire. Leave now!”
    â€œI need a boat.”
    â€œI need twenty buck-naked slave girls and a king-sized bed, but nobody’s getting what they damn please today, kid. Now move! Five seconds!”
    â€œI’ll fight for you.”
    â€œI have hundreds of men, I don’t need one more girl. Two seconds.”
    â€œIf I kill all the Wolves that come ashore by myself, will you reconsider?”
    A blast echoed from the south.
    â€œThat was our last southwest artillery. That pogo’s landing, kid. You want to stand here with your nifty little knife toys when they get here, you feel free, but you don’t get to come running behind our line when they walk ashore, and we’re not wasting a breath to bury you.”
    â€œFair enough,” said Vibeke as she turned her back on the army and faced the landing personnel pogo. A second personnel pogo neared in the sky.
    The front gates of the Wolf pogo opened and a squad of soldiers with microwave rifles marched out toward her. Vibeke followed proper tactics this time.
    As the pack of Wolves advanced, she set her Tikari to berserker mode and ran into the thick of them. The body parts began to fly. Blood began to stain her. She flipped through the old dance, the loose kata that annihilated countless men. Her field absorbed hundreds of hits, and she froze over quickly.
    She thought of Violet frozen, an ice sculpture before she shattered. She turned the thought to rage and caught Bob in midair and began to bash instead of slice. It was slower, but it felt better, the crunching of skulls under the butt of her knife. The rewarding agony of survivors. She gutted them as they cropped up. Dug into them with a ferocity she couldn’t trace. She was still thinking of Violet.
    The dumb bitch who couldn’t take a damn hour to learn to read the text that would have saved her life. She broke a Wolf’s arm backward. If Violet had taken one day, one damn day to learn, Vibeke wouldn’t be on that island. She severed a man’s Achilles tendon and realized the leg wasn’t even attached anymore. Violet had left her right when she needed her most. Had ceased to exist and all because of her own damn stupidity. Vibeke stabbed a man in the stomach and ripped upward with her blade, all the way to his throat. Blood spewed from his mouth and burned hot on her face.
    She screamed in anger, in disgusted regret, in absolute hatred of Violet, of the subhuman thing she was dumb enough to love. She activated Bob’s thruster and