A November Halo Story: Thieving from the Desert Part 5

The blade sang against Nova’s arm, causing her to gasp. The tip was sharp enough for her almost not to notice the pain, but the sight of the cut brought out the little hints of agony. She was rolling away from the sword swung at her head while more ninjas attacked the camp. Barak had been tossed out of the tent, leaving Nova alone to fight the lady ninja.

                “Now, ma’am,” Nova said, glancing down at the cut and frowning, “I was all kind to ya, argh.” She ducked again, but this time, a boot was planted in her chest, throwing her back and through the tent wall.

She rolled out into the battle.

She stood up, shocked to see the ninjas all over the place. She jumped back right as a throwing knife when sticking into a man racing in front of her. The lady in the black and red devil suit had thrown the blade.

                “Tiss, tiss, lady,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “I was tryin’ to be nice, but the gloves are off.”

                Nova squared herself up to the devil ninja, lifting her fists in the good form of a southpaw. She had trained for years boxing; her grandfather saw to it, and Nova could get a few rounds with the best bare-knuckle boxers. The ninja seemed to grin under her mask, flipping her sword into its sheath and readying herself for a fight. She eyed the gun on Nova’s hip, but Nova shook her head at the gaze.

                Nova loved a quick hand-to-hand; it was the best way to keep the blood burning. She dashed forward, throwing some hard right jabs, but the damn devil lady dodged most of them until Nova fired a knee into her side, tossing her into a man. The man of the camp turned to stab her, but the ninja was already off of him, rushing back to hit Nova.

                The speed of the train killer threw Nova for a loop, but not as much as a smack against the ear. The world spun as another couple of hits nailed her in the jaw and the chest, but not off her feet. She blocked the next line of attacks, spinning to match the ninja’s fighting style.

                The ninja was a little taken off by her sudden change in style. 

                 “Told ya,” Nova said, “the gloves are coming off.”

                The ninja hissed, throwing herself at Nova. They danced around the burning camp as men and women battled each other, but Nova couldn’t land a blow strong enough to take out the ninja. She was getting tired. It had been a long few days with no real rest. The fight was starting to take its toll on her.

                She wasn’t sure how much longer she could go toe to toe with the very skilled assassin.

                Nova crashed against some boxes, wiping some blood from her mouth, smiling at the killer, and then feeling the weight of the fight.

The ninja squared herself back up while Nova slowly pulled herself off the boxes with a grin.

                “Gotta say,” Nova uttered, “this has been one hell of a good dance.” She nodded behind the ninja. “But I have a brother, darlin’.”

                The ninja spun in time for the shotgun to kick her a few feet backward. Barak had got close to her, far closer than Nova had thought he would be able to, but the battle must have weakened the ninja.

                 Barak came limping up to her, opening the short-barrel shotgun and reloading it. “I hate ninjas.”

                “Yea, me too,” Nova said, looking down at the body of the devil lady. Only blood and earth were there, and the body was long gone. “Oh, I really hate ninjas.”

                “You two,” the leader of the camp said with his left arm bleeding badly, but a sword dripping blood was being held in his right arm. A few gunshots were now echoing in the camp, with the men starting to kill the ninjas. “Come with me.”

                They both looked at the blood dripping from the tips of his left fingers, but proud warriors like himself wouldn’t ask for help. He nodded for them to come with him. Nova tried to shake her pain from the fight with Barak on her side.

The battle was still raging around them, but the ninjas seemed to be losing.

                The warrior was leading them to some hidden horses. Most of the horses were running scared after being set free by the attackers. These horses, unseen by any of the attackers and not fully able to scout out the camp, had no idea about them, but Nova and Barak were being shown.

                “Take it,” he said, handing Nova the briefcase. “Get to the airship. Ride hard east,” he ordered, pointing, “then at the mouth of the rocks, you won’t be able to miss them right west of them. Do you understand?”

                “I got it,” she said, nodding with the thundering laughter of the shotgun coming from her side. Barak took out another ninja, trying to get to them. The buckshot splattered against the assassin’s chest, with Barak reloading as he crashed into the ground.

                “Ma Salama,” the old warrior said, nodding at her.

                “Thank you,” she said, “for everythin’.” He stepped away as she tossed herself onto the powerful white horse, petting the side of it to ease the massive beast.  “Barak, now.”

                He glanced back at her, looking at the horse next to her and then at the old warrior. He tipped his hat at the man.

                “You folks throw one hell of a shin-gig,” he said to the leader.

                “I don’t know what that means,” he said, smiling.

                “Good luck, sir,” Barak said, climbing the horse. They race east, riding the horses hard and fast, hearing the battle fading in the distance.

                Nova heard the thunderclaps of tank cannons firing on the camp far out of sight. The Russians had joined in the battle, but unlike the ninjas, they were raining Hell down on those people to make quick work of them.