Praetorian Series [3] A Hunter and His Legion Read Online Free PDF Page A

where it rested on the ground and took a step back, followed by another more confident one.  Despite all the things I didn’t know about the orbs, both mine and the one Artie had brought with her after we’d connected days ago, the one thing I did know was that they couldn’t move on their own.  At least, none of us had ever seen such a phenomenon yet.
    Feeling more at ease, I turned fully and made my way through the camp.
    A half dozen or so tents had been set up only two days ago, half that looked familiar, the other half not so much.  Even after five years of constant use, our tents still looked sharp and stylish when compared to the others that wouldn’t have been out of place in a movie about the Korean War.  I shook my head as I passed by them, still unclear of the details surrounding Archer and his comrades, but was far more patient about such surprises than most other stuff. 
    I passed by a pair of the newcomers who were seated around one of their tents, a small fire blazing just outside.  Santino was there as well, still geared up as our QRF, talking with Cuyler and Stryker.
    Gunnery Sergeant Alex Cuyler was the new squad’s sniper, equipped with a rifle that looked a lot like an old M-14, a damn fine precision rifle back home that had been at the height of its popularity decades ago.  Cuyler himself was maybe the oldest of the new bunch, of medium height, and slim, and had a shaved head with a full, red beard, a look he’d reportedly crafted for himself days ago, just prior to embarking on this mission.  It seemed an odd styling choice for a Gunnery Sergeant, but I wasn’t about to question what exactly it meant to hold that rank in their alternate military.
    Warrant Officer TJ Stryker, by contrast, was a burly younger fellow with a barrel chest and large arms, although of similar height.  He didn’t look made for distance running, but if he could sprint, I wouldn’t want to be a bad guy running away from him.  He had close cropped dark hair and gentle features with thick eyebrows, so at least he didn’t come off quite as imposing as his build suggested.  They both seemed like nice guys during the few times I’d spoken to them, and they were certainly respectful, as Marines generally were, but since Cuyler was a sniper just like me, I figured I already shared some kind of bond with him.
    As for w hat the trio was speaking about, I only had one clue.
    Stryker had produced a sleek but wicked looking steel crossbow, and had it displayed out before him.  Santino, who preferred close quarters combat with a knife, still appreciated any weapon’s lethality, and reached out to grip it expertly in both hands.  He looked it over and nodded approvingly, and held it up to look down its sights.  He aimed it off in no particular direction, but then I heard, rather than saw, a metal arrow streak through the sky.  I cringed in preparation for it embedding itself in my eye, which would have been just my luck right now, but it never came, and I opened my eyes just in time to hear the arrow ricochet off of a rock before I heard the painful scream of someone in our camp.
    My first thoughts were of Helena and Artie, because the cries were clearly from a woman, but the pitch didn’t seem quite right for either of them.
    To my right, I saw a petite woman emerge from a tent, hopping on one leg while her hands clutched the other.  I couldn’t quite make out her face, but I assumed it was Staff Sergeant Georgia Brewster, who had been part of the U.S. Army before joining Archer’s team.  Shorter than even Wang, she had a fair complexion and pleasant, if plain, features, with light colored hair that fell to her shoulders.
    The woman came bounding out of her tent so quickly I was certain she would fall over herself, but amazingly, she kept her balance.  As she hobbled closer, I could see Santino’s arrow implanted in her calf.  She raised a fist in his direction, but the first words out of her mouth weren’t