Rhodes crouched next to a wall and moved his face right in front of Coulter’s eyes. “Eddie! Are you okay?”

  Coulter twisted his head aside and refused to look at him.

  Rhodes gripped Coulter’s shoulder. “You did great. We’re going to get you out of here.” Rhodes checked the interface.

  “Can we come down and get you now?” Rio asked. “Please?”

  “Yeah,” Rhodes gasped. “You can come.”

  “Coulter’s brainwave patterns are normalizing,” Murphy reported. “I don’t know why he’s still acting like this.”

  “Leave him alone. He’s still going through withdrawals.” Rhodes couldn’t stop squeezing Coulter’s shoulder. “You’re a champion. You’re gonna be just fine, Eddie. I know it.”

  Coulter still didn’t respond. “Rio, Zion, and Enoch are on approach,” Fisher told Rhodes.

  Rhodes stood up….and came face to face with the soldiers he’d just saved—the soldiers who had been hunting him to kill him.

  Rhodes locked his gaze on Scofield. This guy didn’t stand a chance against Rhodes, but Rhodes didn’t want any animosity between himself and the platoons.

  “Do you have something you want to say to me, Lieutenant?” Rhodes asked in a dangerous undertone.

  Scofield opened his mouth to speak. None of the other soldiers would face Rhodes.

  Scofield didn’t seem to be able to make a sound, and right then, another burst of gunfire erupted three blocks away. A different mob of soldiers backed into the same street.

  They traded gunfire with the enemy on the other side. Rhodes spun around and raised his weapons to help defend the soldiers.

  Coulter started to get to his feet, but a second later, a third wave of Legion platoons attacked and drove the Masks farther north.

  That left three more platoons stranded with Rhodes, Coulter, and Scofield’s squad.

  The platoons rotated northward to keep their weapons trained on the Masks.

  That was the moment when the platoons noticed Rhodes and Scofield’s squad squaring off right there in the middle of the battle zone.

  One man forced his way out of the crowd and stormed up to Rhodes and Scofield. It was Captain Tate Vernick from the 249th.

  Rhodes didn’t recognize any of the men with him. They didn’t belong to any platoon Rhodes ever fought with before. Vernick must have gotten transferred.

  Vernick glanced back and forth between Rhodes and Scofield. Rhodes knew Vernick too well not to recognize that look. “Is there a problem here, Captain?”

  “That’s what I was just trying to figure out,” Rhodes replied.

  Vernick turned to Scofield. “What’s your problem, Lieutenant? Do you know who this is? This is Captain Corban Rhodes from Battalion 1. The Legion brass has been trying to find him for months.”

  “Months!” Rhodes exclaimed. “Has it been that long?”

  “You didn’t know? The whole Legion is on alert looking for you and your people.”

  “He killed hundreds of Legion soldiers!” Scofield blurted out. “He might even have killed thousands! You weren’t there on Rono! You didn’t see!” He turned on Rhodes and spat through gritted teeth. “I was there! We all were! Do you think we could ever forget that?”

  Rhodes did his best to shrug it away. “I don’t blame you for hating me. I hate what I did on Rono, too. Would it mean anything to you if you knew we worked our asses off to try to stop it? Would it mean anything to you if you knew we didn’t do it of our own free will? The Masks took control of us. We fought them all the way.”

  “I don’t believe you!” Scofield fired back. “You’re a traitor to the Legion—all of you!” He shot a deadly glance at Coulter, too.

  That look threatened to snap what was left of Rhodes’s patience. He didn’t begrudge anyone hating him.

  No one better threaten Coulter—not in his fragile state. He had enough to worry about without dealing with these accusations.

  “All of that is for the brass to figure out,” Vernick interjected. “Fall back with the platoon, Lieutenant. Lieutenant! I’m talking to you!”

  Vernick got right in Scofield’s face and then shoved between him and Rhodes. Vernick pushed Scofield away and made the whole squad back off.

  Rhodes stayed where he was. Vernick kept his back to Rhodes until Scofield shot them all a glare over his shoulder and stormed off heading south.

  Vernick finally turned around and narrowed his eyes at Rhodes. “We haven’t heard the last of this.”

  “I know,” Rhodes mumbled.

  “Was that true? Did the Masks really control you to make you attack the Legion?”

  “You don’t think I attacked Legion platoons on my own, do you?” Rhodes compressed his lips to get himself under control. “Sorry. I don’t blame anyone for doubting us.”

  “No, of course I don’t think you attacked Legion platoons on your own. It’s just….” Vernick’s eyes darted to the platoon behind him. “People are saying all kinds of shit about you.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Rhodes muttered. “I don’t want to know.”

  “We’re supposed to fall back south, too. The 765th is still out there occupying the Masks. We’re supposed to retreat under the 765th’s cover. You should come with us.”

  Rhodes glanced at Coulter. “Maybe that isn’t such a good idea. I have a guy who needs medical attention. I’m going to call in my Strikers to lift him off. Will you and your men be all…..”

  Rhodes trailed off when something else happened to The Grid. He’d never experienced anything like it before.

  He’d been trying to interface with the Strikers to find out where they were and how easily he could get one or two of them down here to evacuate himself and Coulter.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The Grid flashed a different set of readings in front of his eyes. He didn’t understand them—not at a conscious level.

  Some distant part of him already knew what the Masks were going to do. It was the kind of inner knowing he experienced when he was the Masks’ prisoner.

  They used these signals to communicate their orders to him and the battalion. The orders didn’t come through The Grid the way they normally would—not unless he was in the Fort Bastion landscape or somewhere else the Masks wanted to simulate the Legion.

  He read the whole battlefield—but not through The Grid. This was the strangest sensation in the world.

  He understood exactly what the Masks were thinking, what they were planning, and where they would move their troops next. He still had a residual connection to them.

  Vernick read Rhodes’s mind. “What’s wrong?”

  “The Masks are moving in behind the 765th. The Masks are using one flank to occupy the 765th. Another flank is cutting behind them. The Masks are on their way south to ambush you once you start to retreat.”

  “What can we do about it?”

  Rhodes shook himself awake. “Keep falling back. The Masks know where you are and too many platoons are already falling back in that direction. They would know what was up if they saw you change your plans at the last minute.”

  Vernick raised his eyebrows. “What is up?”

  Rhodes waved that away. “Just keep going. Get everyone back behind the line….and take this guy with you.” He pulled Coulter forward.

  “NO!!” Coulter burst to life, yanked his arm out of Rhodes’s grip, and fought to free himself. He still wouldn’t look at anyone.

  “You have to fall back, Eddie,” Rhodes told him. “It’s too dangerous for you out here. We’re only going through all this to get you back to the battalion.”

  “NO!” Coulter snapped again, but he kept his head turned to avoid all eye contact. “I’m going with you.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Try to stop me,” Coulter snarled under his breath.

  Rhodes glanced at Murphy through the interface. Murphy only shrugged. “He can be very determined when he wants to be, Captain.”

  Rhodes gave it up and turned back to Vernick. “Get your platoons out of the city.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll cover you and create a distraction.”

  “What if they ambush you?”

  “They won’t.” Rhodes didn’t explain how he knew this. The Masks would never be able to ambush him again. He knew everything they knew.

  He pushed Vernick away. “Go, Tate. Get out of here.”

  Rhodes didn’t wait for Vernick to leave. Rhodes took off heading north. Coulter followed him.

  Rhodes didn’t try to talk to Coulter. Taking Coulter back into a warzone might just be the dumbest thing Rhodes had ever done in his career.

  He somehow understood why Coulter had to do this. No soldier in his right mind would want to get carried off the field when he could still fight. Coulter wasn’t wounded enough for that—not physically.

  Rhodes didn’t have it in him to deny Coulter if he was still mentally with it enough to want to fight the Masks. Everyone in the battalion deserved to fight the enemy. No one in this war had suffered more than Battalion 1.

  Rhodes had to cut a wide circuit north to get around the 765th Platoon. They still engaged with the Masks to the north, but they wouldn’t stay that way.

  The 765th would only stick around long enough to give the other platoons a chance to withdraw. Then the 765th would do the same thing.

  As soon as the 765th left the city, the Masks would overrun all that territory. Rhodes didn’t see how the Legion would ever get this city back, but that was someone else’s decision.

  The Legion had no reason to get this city back. There was nothing left of it to get back. The Legion might as well cut its losses and make its stand somewhere else the Masks were trying to destroy.

  Rhodes found a building on the city’s eastern flank. From here, he could see the Masks ground troops that were planning to pull a surprise attack on the retreating platoons.

  Rhodes’s connection gave him an innate understanding of the Masks’ plans. Whatever they did to try to integrate the battalion must have stuck even after Rhodes and his people escaped.

  Rhodes didn’t grasp all the intricacies of that connection. He didn’t need to. He just had to exploit it.

  That unspoken link made him glance at Coulter at the same moment Coulter glanced up at him. Coulter’s vision cleared and he made direct eye contact.

  Gratitude gripped Rhodes’s heart that he had Coulter with him. Rhodes didn’t have to do this alone—not that he was worried about it.

  He inched another quarter of a mile farther south. The Masks angled into position to rush across the platoons’ path.

  The Masks planned to block the platoons from rejoining the Legion. The platoons would have to fight their way through the Masks to get to safety.

  If anything, the Masks might even be able to force the platoons back into the city where they would have to fight all over again.

  “How do you want to do this, Captain?” Murphy asked.

  It didn’t sound like Murphy at all except that those words used Murphy’s voice. It sounded more like something Coulter would say.

  Rhodes pretended not to notice. Their connection was doing something strange. Maybe the Masks were interfacing with the battalion without realizing it.

  Rhodes waved Coulter farther south—farther south even than the Masks’ position. Rhodes positioned himself and Coulter where they would be able to cut off the Masks from getting anywhere near the platoons.

  The Masks would have no choice but to confront Rhodes and Coulter while the platoons escaped behind the Legion line.

  That was Rhodes’s plan, at least. The other alternative was to leave these platoons to die just like the others.

  Coulter glanced over at Rhodes one more time and nodded. That was good enough for Rhodes.

  He fired his boosters just as the Masks made their move. Rhodes and Coulter streaked north, zoomed between the Masks and the platoons, and both men opened fire.

  The Masks already held their weapons raised ready to gun down the platoons, but they hadn’t opened fire yet.

  Rhodes and Coulter caught them off guard exactly the way Rhodes hoped. He and Coulter flattened dozens of Masks before the Masks recovered enough to get off one shot.

  Both Rhodes and Coulter used lasers, but they also unleashed plenty of Vipers, too. The explosions startled the platoons.

  A bunch of men raised their weapons to open fire on the Masks. The soldiers would have hit Rhodes and Coulter instead, but Vernick yelled at them to keep moving south.

  The platoons streamed away faster. Rhodes couldn’t watch to see where they went or whether they got away in time.

  The Masks realized the maneuver and opened fire on Rhodes and Coulter. Rifle fire hammered both men. Coulter jerked under the Masks’ assault and collapsed on one knee.

  Rhodes tried to fight his way toward him, but more Masks gunfire slapped Rhodes off his feet. He staggered closer to the fleeing platoons.

  He braced himself to stand his ground, passed his lasers back and forth across the enemy ranks, and dug deep to get back over to Coulter.

  Rhodes made it a few feet from Coulter’s position before another brutal volley of enemy gunfire hit Rhodes in the face.

  His head swam, but he kept shooting. He tasted blood and then his best efforts to stay upright failed.

  He toppled, crashed down on his chest, and barely stayed conscious enough to pivot his weapons forward to hold the enemy at bay.

  The Masks advanced. Rhodes couldn’t concentrate well enough to see on The Grid if the platoons were getting away. Rhodes and Coulter couldn’t stop the Masks from pulling their flanking maneuver now.

  Rhodes kept shooting. He probably would have died still shooting as many Masks as possible. Coulter didn’t stop, either.

  They both lay crumpled on the pavement unloading lasers and Vipers on the enemy until, after what seemed like an eternity, another surge of Legion platoons flooded the area coming from the north.

  Soldiers from the 765th raced past Rhodes and Coulter without stopping. The platoons traded gunfire with the Masks and then five Strikers pelted out of the west bombarding the Masks with fusion blasts.

  A shockwave hit Rhodes in the face. He didn’t think he passed out, but when his vision cleared, he lay on his stomach on the pavement staring at an empty street. He and Coulter were alone.

  The Grid still worked, but the interface didn’t. He heard Fisher and Murphy talking to him, but Rhodes couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  He checked The Grid to find out where the enemy was. It took him a second to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

  The platoons filed past him in the southbound street where he’d just been protecting them. None of them stopped to help him and Coulter.

  Rhodes forced himself onto his hands and knees and crawled over to Coulter. Rhodes’s vision kept slipping in and out of focus.

  Coulter slouched on his knees staring straight ahead—toward where the Masks just had been. They weren’t here now.

  “Eddie…” Rhodes choked.

  Coulter glanced at him. Coulter didn’t hold eye contact as well as he did before the battalion escaped from the Masks, but he kept getting better by the minute.

  He barely looked at Rhodes before Coulter struggled to his feet. Rhodes couldn’t tell how injured Coulter was or if he was injured at all.

  He jammed his shoulder under Rhodes’s armpit and Coulter forced Rhodes to his feet. Rhodes stumbled. He couldn’t balance.

  Coulter held him up, turned him around, and both men set off staggering south with the platoons.

  End of Chapter 5.

  ? 2024 by Theo Mann

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