The Street Survivors (The Guild Wars Book 12) by Ian Malone (great books of all time TXT) 📕

even their ferocity in combat. It’s because, of all the species I’ve encountered during my travels, they are the only ones who take as much pride in the details of their work as I do. From the planning of their culling efforts to the way they house their bounty afterward, the wasps are nothing short of surgical in everything they do.” He leaned in. “That includes the executions of unruly slaves. Now…choose.”

Taylor gulped. “And if I don’t?”

“Then they all die,” Akoya said with an easy tone. “Lest we forget, you’re the only one I truly need.”

“Don’t do it, Van Zant!” Torrio shouted. “Don’t give this fat son of a bitch the satisfaction! I know his type, and I know his style. He’s gonna kill us all no matter what you do!”

The colonel’s entire body seized up when a KzSha stinger slammed into back. He toppled over, twitching in a fit of spastic pain, and face-planted in the dirt. Still, he was breathing.

“Another outburst like that would be ill-advised,” Akoya said calmly. “Last chance, Chief Van Zant. Choose.”

Taylor’s gaze darted frantically through the crowd. Clearly the other River Hawks had seen how this played out, as evidenced by their stone-faced expressions and taut muscles. Frank looked just as freaked out. Meanwhile, Jack and Stan demonstrated every bit of stoicism one would expect from two veteran mercs of their experience.

“It’s been fun, Jack.”

“Stan, wait!” Taylor’s eyes bulged as the Mississippian surged upright in a blur of speed and slammed shoulder-first into the KzSha queen, whose stinger smashed straight into her attacker’s face.

Dazed and visibly confused, Stan wobbled backward on his heels, fighting between muscle spasms to catch his balance. It was then that Taylor and everyone else around learned a terrifying new truth about their captors.

The KzSha don’t consume pollen or other insects. They’re carnivores.

“Stan!” Jack screamed.

One after another, the wasps dogpiled onto the helpless human like sharks on a whale carcass, maws open and fangs bared as they tore into Stan’s flesh with bladed arms. It was hands down the most gruesome sight of Taylor’s life, yet hard as he tried, he couldn’t look away. The feeding frenzy went on for what felt like hours, all those blades and teeth tearing and ripping, and ripping and tearing—and all with nary a scream from Stan, on account of his vocal cords being paralyzed from the stinger venom. By the time the blood-soaked orgy ended, the commander’s once proud form looked more like a mound of raw hamburger meat than something resembling a man.

“Insolent old fool,” Akoya muttered. He then leaned over and scooped up Stan’s fedora, tossing it over to the queen, who seemed to regard the garment as some kind of trophy.

“You had better kill me now, bitch,” Jack seethed from his knees. “Otherwise, I’m coming for you. You hear me? I’m coming for every last one of you insect bastards, and when I do, it’s gonna get spiritual.”

Akoya rolled his eyes. “Take them away.”

Taylor lurched ahead when a hand shoved behind his back, locking eyes with the queen as he started forward. She was still fidgeting with Stan’s hat. The sight of it enraged him.

“That’s on you, pal. Not me,” Genovese had said to Torrio about the lives lost on Emza. “It’s all on you.”

Taylor’s gaze flicked back to the shredded pile of meat that moments earlier had been one of his best friends, tears falling. I am so sorry.

* * * * *

Chapter 17: Buried

The humans were split into groups after leaving the director’s shack and taken back to the confinement area, where they were processed into the labor force with the other aliens. In Taylor’s case, this meant being separated from the other Eagles and taken to a different caging area than the one he’d encountered earlier.

“Just like a damn hive,” House had said earlier. The Georgia corporal had been right. The entire subterranean complex, based on what Taylor could observe, resembled a giant rocky honeycomb of chambers, all serving in different capacities and functions to support the overall mining operation. As for the confinement areas themselves, Taylor shuddered to think how many of those there were.

Taylor spent the next three hours locked in his cage with a gaggle of elSha, pondering his predicament. Others in the Galactic Union needed to know what was happening in the Droxis underground, and that started with Reigns and the other Eagles who, as far as Taylor knew, were still hiding on the surface, waiting for his call. Somehow, some way, somebody’s gotta warn them. But how?

An audible thwack echoed off the cave walls when a Besquith from an adjacent cage shoved one of his GenSha cellmates in the chest. The bison flared its nostrils, visibly pissed…and just like that, the fight was on.

“That was a mistake,” the Duplato to Taylor’s right observed.

Four KzSha emerged from the nearby guard station and stormed to the cage, flinging open the door and stunning both combatants with their tails. Both aliens flopped to the ground, twitching and spasming, then were dragged out of the cage by their feet and loaded onto a car at the terminus.

“What will happen to them?” Taylor asked.

“First, they’ll be punished,” the Duplato said. “After that, they’ll likely be isolated with minimal food and water in the caves further down.”

“But they won’t be killed,” Taylor surmised.

The Duplato shook his head. “The KzSha wouldn’t dare eliminate workers of that ilk. They are too strong, too valuable.”

The conversation paused when two more KzSha marched over to Taylor’s cage.

“Back,” one of them snapped in its synthetic voice.

Taylor did as ordered, then watched from the corner as the wasp flung open the cage door and motioned the slaves inside to step out into the open.

“Move,” the wasp snapped again.

Taylor exited the cage and was paraded out into the