Havoc by Ann Aguirre Page A

the algae on top. It made it harder for native wildlife to track them, but Jael never adjusted to the smell.
Fragging enhanced senses.
    He ran silently through the tangle of jungle vine, ducking where necessary, leaping the pools of stagnant water that rippled lazily with things hidden beneath the brown surface. A scanning gaze showed him minutiae that other people wouldn’t notice: a cocoon on the underside of a leaf, the bulge of eggs laid in the dense clay at water’s edge, and the twinkle of a silver charm. Cold washed over him, and he didn’t want to kneel to pick it up. But he didn’t control his muscles anymore and he stooped to retrieve the small jewel, a sparkling blue stone banded in silver and dangling from a broken chain.
    He spun, pulled by the echo of laughter. It rang on and on like a bell even as his heart raced. Jael sped up and broke from the undergrowth into the burning heat of the noonday sun.
This was supposed to be a stealth mission—what the hell’s a kid doing out here?
A cluster of houses had sprung up, nearly in the battle zone, prefab units that said they belonged to hopeful settlers who didn’t think the reported conflict was serious.
Or maybe they didn’t have the money to go farther.
Then he saw her, a little girl with brown curls. She had on a yellow dress, and the sky was blue and cloudless overhead, just the burning orange sun blazing down.
    â€œYou found it!” She sounded so happy.
    â€œGet out,” he called.
    But she didn’t seem to hear him, and he glimpsed the shine of light off the barrels of enemy guns. Jael sprinted toward her, knowing he would be too slow—
    He came awake with a smothered cry. Dred stirred behind him and roused with a sleepy frown. “Problem?”
    Jael metered his breathing, eyes shut against the memory. “An old one. Don’t know why it’s bobbing to the surface now.”
    â€œYou want to tell me about it?”
    His voice came out in a rasp. “The last job I did before retiring as a merc, there was this little girl in middle of the hot zone. I was supposed to clear a path for my unit, and there she was. Both sides unleashed on us, and I ran. Landed on her. I took the hit, hurt like hell.”
    â€œDid you save her?” Dred asked softly.
    â€œThat’s the shit of it, love. I didn’t. When I rolled over, I had a big-ass hole in my back and blood all over her. The blast went all the way through. She died anyway. I got into salvage work after that.”
    She didn’t say anything. Maybe she could tell he felt like a big exposed nerve, and no words would do.
She has that bloody Psi whatever-it-is. First time I’ve ever been glad somebody could rummage in my feelings.
Instead, she lay beside him in silence until he felt like he could stand being touched, then he wrapped his arms around her and didn’t let go.
    *   *   *
    FIVE days after the failed recon mission, Tam could limp about with relative facility. Things had been fairly quiet since Mungo’s mongrels died outside their border, and the mercs hadn’t made any moves on Queensland. Frankly, the silence worried him. He was the one who gathered intel, so at the moment, they were operating blind. Tam tried to tell himself that Vost’s men were engaged elsewhere, and they’d turn their attentions on Queensland soon enough.
    To distract himself from futile foreboding, he circulated, listening to the populace. He overhead scraps of conversation: gossip, bets regarding which zone went out first and how long it would take for the mercs to wipe out Mungo’s mutts, idle chatter and the usual shit talk among men with too much time on their hands. But there was little aggression, much less than when Artan ran the territory. Most convicts had settled down and were no longer whispering about the benefits of Vost’s offer. It seemed as if the majority of Queenslanders knew a baited trap when