Domination (A C.H.A.O.S. Novel) - By Jon Lewis Page 0,55

off the ground. Pierce shouted, his arms and legs waving.

Oz stopped next to a fallen soldier and picked up his assault rifle.

“What are you doing?” Colt shouted. “Hotwire the bus. I’ll get Pierce.”

For a moment Oz hesitated, then he turned and ran as the shoulder of one of the Trackers opened. A cannon emerged, and the barrel flared to life as gunfire lit the sky, chewing up the asphalt and ripping through cars.

Colt felt power surge through his body as a flood of adrenaline raged. His chest heaved and a feeling of euphoria overtook him as the world slowed down. He ran toward the Tracker and leapt, grabbing hold of the tentacle that held Pierce. Colt pulled and metal groaned and the casing bent as it lashed back and forth, taking Colt on a dizzying ride. He squeezed harder, every fiber of every muscle straining. A second tentacle shot out and caught him on the side of the head.

“Get out of here!” Pierce yelled.

Colt let go, rolling as he hit the ground. In a series of motions he fished five magnetic grenades out of his ammo belt, set the detonators, and threw them at the juncture where the tentacles were connected to the hand of the Tracker. There was a short delay before the explosions, then the tentacle released Pierce before it fell away. He dropped to the ground, landing awkwardly and rolling his ankle.

“Hey! Over here!” Colt waved his arms up and down.

“What are you doing?” Pierce asked.

“It’s called a distraction—now go!”

“I can’t get up!”

“Go!”

Pierce forced himself to his feet, half limping and half running toward the bus.

The Tracker stepped toward Colt and the ground shook. Its head swiveled as it reached out a massive hand. Tentacles coiled around Colt’s shoulders, pinning his arms to his chest as it turned and headed for the football field.

Colt fought against the bonds, but despite his strength he couldn’t break free. The Tracker deposited him in the middle of the football field where five Thule transport ships were docked.

Thule warriors with massive guns stood watch over at least two dozen prisoners, including Sheriff Sutherland. There were too many Thule to try to escape, so Colt made his way to the sheriff to see if he could get any information.

“What happened?” he asked.

“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure,” the sheriff said. “Near as I can tell, the mayor must have coordinated the strike with Koenig, and we lost.”

“Now what?”

“They take us back to Gathmara where we’ll be declared traitors. Then, depending on Koenig’s mood, we’ll either be sent to labor camps or executed.”

: :

CHAPTER 40 : :

Colt was separated from the other prisoners and placed in a holding cell that had no light. The stench of metal, gasoline, and burning oil made his stomach churn, and the cacophony of sound echoing off the walls made it impossible to orient himself.

He felt the engines rumble to life, and moments later the transport lifted off the ground. Panic fought to take hold, but Colt clung to the words that had become so familiar. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth as he waited for his eyes to adjust, but his enhanced night vision didn’t give him much of an advantage. This is where I’m supposed to be, he reminded himself. He was in a room that wasn’t much bigger than a closet, and as far as he could tell the closest thing to a door was a small vent about the size of a license plate. Not that it mattered. If he found a way to escape, it wasn’t like he could fly.

“Hello! Is anybody there? Anybody?”

The dull thud of footsteps was accompanied by muffled voices, but whatever language they were speaking, it wasn’t English. The footsteps stopped, and suddenly the wall behind him opened up. Colt felt a burst of pain as someone drove a needle through his neck. He spun around to see who was there, but his knees buckled and he fell.

He felt dizzy. Nauseated. And as he looked up he saw the silhouettes of two hulking figures standing against the bright light.

“Is that him?”

“The one they believe is the Betrayer? Yes. Yes, it is.”

The voice was deep and horrible, and Colt saw a long, lizard-like tongue slip out from the speaker’s lips as though it was tasting the air.

“He’s still wrapped in human flesh,” the second figure said. Through his blurred vision, Colt could