Page 27 of Trigger Discipline

“White. With chopped bell peppers, tomatoes, and ground beef. The top doesn’t even get all glommy as it cools.”

Gabriel made a face. “Glommy? That’s not a word.”

“And yet it perfectly conveys exactly what I meant,” he focused on the warmth from Gabriel’s shoulder. “And the chips are homemade.”

“Lightly salted?”

“Of course they’re lightly salted, what do you take me for?”

Gabriel bent his knee, letting his wrist hang over it limply. He pursed his lips before looking over at Blake. “I have no idea.” His voice trailed off. “Maybe I’ll find out?”

His eyes drooped as he fought the fading remnants of his energy. He tried to rally. To say something quippy or ask Gabriel to tell him more about the cabin in the mountains. But exhaustion won as he finally drifted forward, his head landing on Gabriel’s shoulder as he passed out.

CHAPTER 10

JOHN WAYNE

Blake stood on tiptoe, looking over Gabriel’s broad back to see the red brick building ahead of them. Maybe two blocks. One dirty alley, a crossroad, and then the parking lot of a dry cleaners. That was all that stood between them and the station.

“Finally,” he breathed out in relief.

Gabriel nodded, his head turning to say something to Blake when the brick wall beside them exploded. Chalky bits of red brick sent him flying into an overturned box truck. His knee screamed in protest as it took the brunt of the hit, slamming him into the undercarriage.

Dust coated his mouth and eyes. He couldn’t see, but he could hear the whirring of something hydraulic—and clicking. He roughly scrubbed his eyes, trying to clear the debris clinging to his eyelashes. Gasping, he pushed himself to shaking feet.

Gabriel grabbed him by his shirt, dragging him back. “Get behind the truck!”

Blake tripped over the curb, falling to his knees. Pain exploded out from the joint; he bit back a scream as he clutched his leg to his chest.

Gunfire exploded on the other side of the truck. Blinking rapidly, he tried to clear the remaining crap from his eyes as he pushed himself up. Something thudded into the side of the truck and Blake limped to the cab, peering around to see what was going on.

Gabriel was moving quickly, his gun steady as he trained it on one of the biggest monsters Blake had ever seen. Impossibly, it was far more horrifying than the thing he’d seen earlier.

This close, he could see it was obviously mechanical. There were no seams or rivets in its body—nothing organic moved like that. Standing on two legs, it had to be close to nine feet tall with twin guns on its shoulders, both were trained on Gabriel as he sidestepped around, firing carefully at the guns and face of the alien.

Gabriel was faster, the guns taking a while to track his movement. Almost like it was having trouble seeing him through the dust in the air. But in the narrow street, it didn’t have to see him. Not when its rounds immolated anything they touched.

The gun on its left shoulder boomed. Gabriel dodged at the last second, but it wasn’t enough. He was thrown back into the broken brick wall by the force of the explosion from the projectile hitting the street where Gabriel had just been standing.

Blake felt like time slowed. His focus narrowed on the gun on the alien’s shoulder.

There was no gunpowder. No stench of propellant. Blake had been at enough crime scenes to know that smell.

His eyes widened.A rail gun.

Blake had seen it on a documentary. His father had been watching one on trains and had fallen asleep on the couch. As he slept, the TV played the next episode—one all about different kinds of warfare.

The aliens were using kinetic energy to fire projectiles. Hesuddenly understood why the alien had to be so big, and why the smaller, more limber four-legged aliens didn’t have weapons—they wouldn’t be able to handle the recoil.

Gabriel was up and running again, launching over downed debris and trying to shoot conservatively. Blake knew he only carried 8-10 magazines with him. And he had no idea how many he’d already used up.

The alien would track him, start to shoot, and then stop again. As it did, hydraulics hissed, and a small whine whirred. Everything clicked.

It can’t shoot and move!

“Gabriel, keep running!” he screamed. “It has to stop to shoot!”

Because the rail guns were too powerful the alien had to brace, locking all its mechanisms, or whatever it had for joints, before it could fire. Which is why Gabriel was able to keep ahead of it.