Javas nodded, and without further discussion the two of them made their way as quickly and as quietly as they could to the top of the ridge. They paused at the edge of the bushes, scanning the road in each direction. For security purposes the brush was kept neatly manicured for a distance of twenty to thirty meters on each side of the road, making a fairly wide area where they’d be exposed.
Eric watched the Woodsgate grounds at the end of the road and saw that every light on the estate grounds blazed brightly, and that additional floodlights had been erected on the landing pad and above the main gate, giving them a good picture of what was happening. Dozens of members of the Imperial guard, beefed up by Glenney before the three of them had even left the Moon, patrolled the perimeter. Eric looked closely and realized that a number of the guards appeared to be in the space between the two shields. Apparently a temporary gate had been opened in the House shielding to allow the men to enter the space. He couldn’t tell for certain, but judging from all the electronic equipment at their feet and the hand-held metering devices they passed over the inner surface of the second shield, they were still working at trying to breach it. So close, he thought, the sight confirming what they’d suspected about the shielding, and not able to do a thing.
The entire area was illuminated by several small searchlights that played out over the road and into the surrounding wooded area. Eric was grateful for the additional light that helped them to verify that the road was deserted in both directions, but they would have to take care not to get caught inadvertently in one of the searchlights.
Behind them the dogs grew louder, more frantic, and had certainly picked up their scent by now. They waited nervously for one of the House searchlights to make a last sweep in their direction, then sprinted across the open area. They crossed the wide, mowed shoulder almost immediately and were halfway across the access road itself when his father cried out and stumbled heavily to the pavement.
“Father!” Eric went immediately to his side, helping him unsteadily back onto his feet. His father tried to say something, but suddenly started shaking uncontrollably and couldn’t seem to form coherent words. Something hit the pavement just in front of them, sparking brightly as it deflected into the trees and crackled away at an oblique angle through the branches. He stared down the road, expecting that the horses they’d heard had already come around on the trail. There was someone there, just barely visible in the waning darkness. The figure took aim and Eric pulled his father out of the way just as another shot was fired, missing them. Several of the searchlights swung around in their direction and were joined quickly by the beams of a dozen hand-held lights as the guards gathered in a knot at the edge of the shielding.
Eric waved his arms frantically at the guards, trying to make them understand that the additional light was serving only to make them better targets. Another shot echoed in his ears and, not bothering to look where the shot went, he dragged his father toward the shelter of the trees on the opposite side. After a moment, Javas seemed to shake off the disorientation and managed to run several meters, almost halfway. to the trees, but then his legs and arms twitched spasmodically and he crumpled once more to the ground.
He pushed himself on unsteady knees, his head jerking uncontrollably from side to side. “N-n-n-no… Er-ic!” A painful grimace showed plainly on his face as he forced each word through clenched teeth. “R-r-run!”
“What is it? Father!” Eric struggled to drag him the rest of the way into the scrub, where yet again he managed to stand up on his own. His face was ashen, but the painful look had disappeared for the moment. He gripped at his right shoulder, and in the glowing dawn light Eric saw blood oozing between the clenched fingers.
“Eric, which way?” He panted desperately, but was speaking clearly now.
“There, but I’m not sure how far!” Eric hastily surveyed their surroundings. The landscape sloped steadily away from the level of the access road, and they were in the bottom of a small depression. “You stay here, I’ll lead them to the east. I can get to the main trail in a few minutes, and once there I can run toward the town. Stay down and you should be—”
“No!” he yelled, nearly at the top of his lungs, silencing Eric. He turned, pointing his uninjured arm in the direction they’d just come. “Listen! Do you hear them?” The dogs were closer now; it would be a matter of minutes before they caught up with them if they didn’t start moving soon. “They’ll follow you right to the trail, after they’ve already found me. No; you’ve got to make a run for the cave, get inside the grounds.”
The backwoods brightened rapidly now, giving him a better feel for their location in relation to the cave. “Come on,” he said, pulling Javas’ left arm around his shoulder to support him. “I think we can both make it.”
“All right.” He started moving. “But promise me you’ll—unnh!” His father’s eyes rolled back and he jerked repeatedly again. Eric held his father to keep him from falling, powerless to ease his pain as he felt the muscles contracting in tiny, regular seizures beneath the man’s jacket. Saliva frothed through gritted teeth as five, eight, ten times he stiffened before the seizures stopped, leaving him weak and pale again. “All right, I—I think I’ll be… I think I’ll be able to run for a minute.”
Eric didn’t hesitate, grateful only that whatever it was had passed. With Eric still supporting his father’s weight, the two of them made their way carefully through the backwoods in the direction he was certain would take them to the cave entrance. They made it out of the depression and came across a little-used hunting trail going in roughly the direction he remembered. The trail was a mixed blessing: The surer footing would enable them to pick up their own pace as they ran; but it also meant that there was a greater danger of the horses catching up with them, which would not be the case on the uneven terrain off the trail. Eric opted for speed and they had just begun moving again as the next set of seizures hit, crippling his father just as they had before.
“My God, what is it?” Eric felt tears of angry frustration run down his cheeks at his own helplessness to do anything. “What’s wrong?” He held his father tightly in his arms, stroking the back of his head until the seizures—as before, exactly ten of them—passed and he sat up, dazed and disoriented. “What is it?” Eric asked again.
His father panted heavily, increasingly exhausted by each successive bout with the seizures, and tore at his jacket to get it off, then used Glenney’s knife to cut the blood-soaked sleeve of his shirt away, exposing the surprisingly small but deep wound in his upper arm. “It’s what they shot me with,” he gasped, feeling where the skin had been penetrated. “A charged projectile of some kind, timed to send a series of electric shocks directly into my nervous system.” He looked at Eric and handed him the knife. “You’ve got to get it out. I don’t know how many more times I can take it and keep on going.”
Eric wiped the blood away from the wound and examined it closely, pressing gently where the projectile had entered. His father gasped painfully. “It’s deep, Father. I’m not sure I can—” He jumped to his feet, listening carefully. They had put some distance between themselves and the dogs in the last several minutes, or maybe the animals had momentarily lost the scent, but the barking grew closer again.