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crowd us. Yell out if you sense anything threatening. Corbie, Lindholm, you bring up the rear. Guns at the
ready, people. If in doubt, shoot first and ask questions later. I don't want anyone or anything getting
closer to us than ten feet. Got it?'
Everyone nodded. Williams raised a tentative hand.
'Yes, Doctor, what is it?'
'Shouldn't we activate our force shields, Captain? Just in case?'
'It's up to you. But bear in mind they'll drain their energy crystals dry after only a few hours' continuous
use. You might prefer to save your shield for when you really need it.'
Williams flushed, and nodded quickly. Hunter moved off into the gloom, and the others followed.
The smell grew worse. A damp, acrid smell of drifting smoke and crushed leaves. The ground underfoot
became broken and uneven, rising here and there in crooked ridges as tree roots rose up against the
surface. The darkness pressed close about the narrow trail. The Squad's footsteps sounded loud and
clear on the quiet, but the tightly packed trees soaked up the echoes almost before they started.
Corbie clutched his gun so tightly his fingers ached. He was scared again, and had to fight to prevent it
showing in his face. He had enough pride left for that, at least. He and Lindholm were supposed to be the
Squad's fighters their defenders and protectors. The others depended on them. Corbie managed a smile
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at that, but it wasn't much of a smile. It had been a long time since he'd been able to protect anyone,
including himself. There had been a time when drink had given him the courage he needed to get through
each day, but for some months now even that hadn't been enough. Everyday problems had become
increasingly difficult to deal with. Anything beyond the routine had become suspect and even terrifying.
He was tense all the time, and his muscles ached. He didn't sleep much, and when he did he had bad
dreams.
After the war against the Ghost Warriors, something had broken inside him, and never mended. It was
getting harder and harder for him to hide the fact, but for the moment at least he still had his pride, and he
wouldn't give it up. It was all he had left. Besides, he couldn't show his shame in front of Lindholm. The
man was a legend in the Arenas took on all-comers for three years and never once looked like losing.
There were rumours he'd killed a Wampyr with his bare hands in a private match. Corbie smiled sourly.
Maybe that was why he stayed so close to Lindholm hoping some of the courage would rub off.
He didn't like the forest. The shadows were too dark, and the quiet had the texture of something only
rarely disturbed. Corbie looked unhappily about him and licked his dry lips compulsively. Something felt
wrong. He couldn't see or hear anything specific, but his instincts were yelling so loudly his stomach was
cramping in sympathy. At first, he'd dismissed it as just more of his nerves at work, but he was still too
much the professional to believe that for long. The esper was right. The Squad was being watched. A
shadow moved at the corner of his vision, and Corbie had to use all his self-control to stop his head
turning to follow it. He stared straight ahead.
'Captain,' he said quietly. 'Movement. Four o'clock.'
Hunter looked casually in that direction, and then away again. I don't see anything, Corbie.'
'I did. Twice. I think it's moving along with us.'
'Damn.' Hunter stopped, and lifted his hand. The others came to a halt. 'All right, people, form a circle.
Take your time, but leave yourselves enough room to use your swords. Don't use your guns unless you
have to. Remember, a lot can happen in the two minutes it takes your disrupter to recharge between
shots.'
The Squad started to move, and the forest fell apart. A tree directly before them slumped forward like a
melting candle. Leaves dripped from its branches and splashed on the ground. The gnarled trunk lost its
definition, and collapsed into a pool of frothing liquid that spilled sluggishly across the trail. There was a
swift rasp of steel on leather as the Squad drew their swords. DeChance cried out in disgust as
something soft and clinging fell on to her shoulders from above. It took her only a few seconds to realize
it was a fallen branch, and she'd just started to relax when it whipped around her throat and tightened.
She clawed at it with her free hand, and the branch collapsed under the pressure of her hold. It oozed
between her fingers as she pulled it free and threw it away.
'Back to back!' yelled Lindholm. 'Everyone back to back. And watch your neighbours as well as
yourself.'
All around them, the forest was melting and deforming. Shapes could not hold, and treetrunks stretched
and melted into each other. Leaves fell to the ground in a living rain. They lay in heaps, curling and
uncurling like dying moths. Branches elongated like boiling taffy, flailing at the Squad from all sides with
blind ferocity. The Squad defended themselves with their swords, the cold steel slicing through the
waving branches with hardly any effort. Claws and barbed spikes erupted suddenly from the branches,
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