Maximum Offence Read Online Free PDF Page B

cave.’
    ‘What about . . . ?’
    ‘They piss in it, they shit in it. For all I care, they can fuck in it. But if anyone takes a step outside I will cut their throats myself. Any other questions?’
    He meets my gaze. ‘No, sir.’
    ‘The rest of you?’
    Rachel and Haze look away, and Shil just shrugs as if she expected no better. She’s the eldest, apart from me. You’ve probably worked that out for yourselves.
    ———
    Say desert and people think of sand, but it is as likely to be grit, or something like the shale that crunches under my feet. The cliff is at my back, the cave is that glow away to one side and ahead of me is a slope down to the desert floor.
    If it wants us, whatever is out there will have to climb that slope. We have triple moonlight and the slope on our side, and a cruel wind against us. Every now and then, the wind catches grit and throws it into my eyes.
    I could leave it until daylight . . .
    The thought comes out of nowhere. There is nothing to say we must meet them head on. Then again, there is nothing to say we must not. But I’m ex-Legion, and meeting the enemy head on is what the Legion do. Of course, that doesn’t mean it is always right.
    ‘You all right, sir?’
    ‘I’m fine.’ It comes out louder than I intend. All this thinking is getting to me.
    ‘Right,’ I say. ‘We’re going to go down there, kill one of them and drag it back to the cave, take a look at what it is.’
    As plans go, I have heard worse.
    So has she. Sketching me a salute, Franc draws a knife from her belt and waits for her orders.
    ‘That way.’
    Shale slithers as we head downhill. We keep to the shadows, following the bed of a dry river, but it is not enough. A howl from ahead is answered by a howl off to the left, and then by another to the right.
    They know we’re coming.
    Franc freezes the moment I raise my hand.
    ‘Stay here,’ I order. ‘Count to ten, then make enough noise for five.’
    She wants to be down there mixing it but she does as she is told. A few seconds after I leave, my corporal begins booting rocks down the slope, one after another. And she boots them hard.
    That girl is a miracle of pure pent-up aggression.
    As she kicks, Franc flicks a blade from hand to hand. It moves so fast it’s impossible to say which hand holds the knife at any point. Her shoulders are loose and she’s slouching.
    Unless you have Legion training, she looks off guard. If you have Legion training, she looks very dangerous indeed.
    Leaving Franc behind, I head towards a desert floor that ripples like an ocean, the silver grey of the shale catching the moonlight in patches of broken surf.
    Then I see them.
    At least I see one of them.
    From here, he looks human. Tall and broad, with a shock of hair that sweeps back from his skull and falls halfway down his spine. He is naked, like a ferox, but the blade in his hand is sharpened steel.
    He turns.
    Deep-set eyes scan the slope.
    When the stone in my hand lands fifty paces to his left he smiles. Thinking he’s got me. Only his gaze slides over where my stone hit and flicks back, as he tilts his head, trying to pinpoint the exact position.
    The moonlight is hurting his eyes.
    Must be like trying to stare into the sun for me, because he has one hand shading his face, while the other holds his blade low and slightly tilted.
    It’s a good stance.
    He can hear Franc on the slope above, there is no doubt about that. Every so often, his gaze flicks uphill, before returning to where he thinks I should be.
    Only by now, I’m somewhere else.
    There are five of them. A scout and four bunched together. As another two shadows crest a dune, I change my count to seven, adding an eighth, who appears from one side. Crouching, I watch the scout look from where he thinks I am to where Franc is making a noise, and then behind him to where the others cluster.
    He is too indecisive to be senior.
    That leaves the other seven.
    Of the four together, one is small enough to be