Deathstalker 02 - Deathstalker Rebellion

thrusts. His enemies fell, but there were always more. Random boosted, calling on the ancient Deathstalker secret he'd acquired from Owen; and on the edge of his mind he felt Ruby boosting, too. New strength flooded through them both, more than enough to counter the alchemical strength of the drug that burned so fiercely in the veins
    of the Faithful.
    And above and below and all around, in the many tunnels and caverns and living quarters of the rebels, the Faithful and the Rejects fought and died, equally matched in savagery and determination, unable to advance and unwilling to retreat, no matter what price was paid in blood and death. Tunnel floors and doorways became blocked with the dead and the dying, and men had to clamber over corpses to get at each other. Rebels saw their families die, women and children cut down without pity or quarter, and fought the more savagely. There were screams of rage as well as pain, and the din grew deafening.
    Random and Ruby fought on, held where they were by the sheer press of fighters, taking wounds as well as giving them simply because there was no room to dodge or duck. Random cut and hacked with cold precision and knew that for all his new youth and strength, and the added powers of the boost, he still wasn't going to win this one. There were just too many Faithful fighting like berserks, uncaring of what wounds they took or whether they lived or died, as long as their enemy fell before them. More Rejects were coming, running from miles and miles of underground tunnels. In the end there'd be enough to outnumber and overpower the Church troops, but not until too many men, women, and children had been butchered by Church steel and innocent blood stained the tunnels forever.
    It came to Random that he was going to die, trapped in the cramped confines of the dimly lit tunnels, far from sky and sun and open air, and the thought infuriated him. There was so much he'd intended to do, inspired by his second chance at life, and so much he'd left undone, because he'd been so sure there would be time in the future. Now time had run out. He was going to die, not through any failure of strength or spirit, but simply because he was
    outnumbered. And Ruby… Ruby would die, too. That thought fired him as nothing else could. He mourned the undoubted loss of his old friend Alex and the failed hopes of the Technos rebels, but in the end it was the thought of Ruby Journey lying dead and broken on the bloody floor that flared up in him, consuming all else in a need for retribution and revenge.
    His mind burst free of its self-imposed restraints and reached out to touch and join with Ruby's. Their thoughts slammed together, merging and melding, becoming a whole that was greater than the sum of its parts. A brilliant light flared up around them, blazing hot like the sun, devouring those around them who couldn't retreat fast enough. The Faithful burst into flames, burning like candles, their flesh running like hot wax. The heat consumed the Church troops in seconds, melting their swords and body armor, spreading out through the tunnels in a traveling wave of spontaneous combustions. Only the Rejects were untouched, though the heat of the burning bodies drove them back, arms raised to protect their faces. The Faithful screamed and died, and suddenly the survivors had turned and were running back toward the surface and sanity. The wave of killing heat swept after them, snapping at the heels of the slowest and setting their hair alight. Horrid shadows danced along the metal walls as the Faithful fled, screaming in horror as though the devil himself pursued them. And perhaps he did.
    The surviving Church troops grabbed men, women, and children and held them close, to prevent the hellfire setting them alight. The tactic worked, and more and more hostages were taken until the Faithful reached the upper levels and there were no more Rejects. They burst out onto the surface, clinging desperately to their struggling captives, and the hellfire followed them no farther. Men came running to help them and were greeted with tears and panted
    curses and hysterical laughter. Of the six thousand Faithful who went down into the underground, only four hundred and seven returned, not all of them in their right minds. They brought with them three hundred and twenty-seven captives, mostly women and children. And that was the end of Cardinal Kassar's great offensive against the Technos rebels.
    Deep down in the rebel