Metallic Heart

by Liahona West

  Several pages followed with profiles of the victims. No faces or names. Just numbers. Bannack shuddered. The top right corner of paper after paper held the words “deceased” or “maimed.”

  “Nothing is working!” Joy’s frantic scrawl covered most of the next page after the victim profiles. “Seth’s condition continues to grow worse. What am I missing?”

  Joy picked up her journal a few months into Year Six, rejoicing in a new find. “Donor has been found! Work will begin right away on repairing the synapses of Seth’s brain.”

  Bannack’s hands threatened to crush the papers. Working for Joy, his job was simple: find victims. To his everlasting shame, Bannack did his job, and he did it well. His training allowed him to use his strength and height as an advantage over the ones who fought back, but everyone fought back. He couldn’t blame them.

  Then he came across a note, dated yesterday, stuck folded to the top of a paper. It read, “Seth’s condition isn’t improving despite regular nanite donations. Donor must deliver all serum. No exceptions.”

  He stared at the slip of paper stuck in the file like an afterthought. Who is Donor?

  The question spun in his head until he heard a high-pitched scream. Bannack jumped from the chair, its legs scraping against the concrete floor, before crashing to the ground.

  Years ago, the screaming wouldn’t have affected him as it did in that moment. He had grown soft. The knot in his stomach turned to nausea and his vision tumbled. Bannack gripped the edge of the desk.

  Round, dark brown eyes flashed through his head. He saw the silken hair of a little girl, only just twelve years old, brush at her neck when she ran. The girl, Nora, was the job that convinced Bannack he needed to run from Joy, so he met Nora and her family, and together they ran north. Joy’s reach was long, but he knew she couldn’t reach them there. Bannack stayed long enough to help the family find people to settle with and then left to travel alone.

  When his vision cleared, Bannack rushed from the room but stopped short when he came face to face with a guard.

  “Hey!” he said and reached for a crossbow slung to his back.

  Ignoring the trembling of his limbs, Bannack ran forward and grabbed hold of the guard’s arms, twisted his body, then cracked his elbow into the man’s face. Bannack’s shoulder jerked forward, the collar of his jacket brushing against his cheek, and his shoulder screamed. From behind, damp hands grabbed Bannack’s ankle, and he slammed into the ground face first. His body vibrated from the impact. A surge of fear jolted him to his feet and into action. Bannack kicked the crossbow out of the way with one boot and slammed the heel of his palm into his attacker’s face. The man stumbled, giving Bannack time to land a final blow to the back of his neck. The man dropped. Still wheezing from hitting the concrete, Bannack coughed, stepped over the unconscious guard and walked down the hallway, trembling.

  The hallways all looked similar, so he lost his way more than once until he came to a slightly ajar door nestled in the corner of a hallway. He slipped through.

  In the dimly lit room, Bannack leaned against a metal table and inhaled through his nose, his chest expanding, then let it out for a count of seven. He looked at his hands spotted with blood and clenched them.

  I can’t escape my past, can I?

  Despite all his years rejecting the darkness within him, the minute he came back to Joy’s accursed facility, the darkness awoke. He felt nothing for the men he killed.

  They won’t be remembered.

  He murdered them without blinking an eye.

  The sound of metal clinking made Bannack spin around. He tilted his head, listening for breathing or more noises as his heartbeat quickened, but he heard nothing.

  Stop feeling. You’ll get killed.

  His muscles tightened, winding him up as if he were a spring, and Bannack crouched. Though the room was dark and only one of his ears worked, he scanned the room for movement. A lot of metal surfaces meant reflections, even when the room was dim.

  Out of the corner of his eye, someone came at him with a frying pan. Cuffs clinked. With a jolt, Bannack raised his arm, blocked the attack, then used his free hand to hit the pan away. A woman grunted.

  She was slight and easy to take down as he slammed his open palm into her chest, sending her tumbling. Bannack slunk toward her, his body prepared for another attack, but she scrambled behind a metal counter. Bannack followed. A knife blade slashed through the air, barely missing his face, and he jumped away, losing his footing. The weapon came down. Bannack rolled away to gather his bearings. He only needed a few seconds.

  “Leave me alone!”

  What is she talking about? He couldn’t give up his position. She attacked him, and he would kill her if need be.

  Footsteps came from behind him and a swirl of red hair preceded the burn of a knife across his cheek. Bannack gritted his teeth, silent as he rolled away. The woman, wild-eyed, closed the distance between them. Fast. Her speed caught him off guard. When she slammed her shoulder into his stomach, all the air left him in a single whoosh. They fell together, crashed into the door and tumbled into the hallway.

  A vicious scar ran down the entire left side of her face.

  She was much stronger than Bannack expected, and he struggled to get her off him. The woman’s speed and agility matched his, and they grappled with one another, a flurry of arms and legs.

  Finally, Bannack grabbed a hold of her neck. He slammed her back into the wall, tightening his grip. Tears moistened her eyes. Her neck was putty in his hands.

  “B…Bannack. St…op.”

  His shoulders tightened. “How do you know my name?”

  The woman wheezed. Her eyes rolled, but when she blinked, they focused again. “I’m…Eloise.”

  Immediately, Bannack released her, and she landed on the ground, coughing and holding her neck.

  “How?” he asked. His head tumbled. As he stared at her, parts of her mom and dad showed through. She looked at him, pushed against the wall, her eyes wet, and he fell to the ground. Her hair was a bit darker than when she was a kid but still a vibrant red.

  When he tried to approach, she gasped and shrunk away from him. His stomach twisted.

  “Stay away from me.”

  “Elle, I—”

  “No! Just…no.” Her face twisted as she held her neck. “I want you to stay away.”

  I almost killed her. Bannack looked at his hands with the dried blood over tiny scars from various fights and clenched them. I almost killed my best friend.

  He hadn’t recognized her in his fury but he should have. Damn it, he should have. He cursed his training, which taught him to block everything out, except the target, and the consequence had been near fatal.

  Once Eloise disappeared from view, Bannack slammed the heel of his hand into the wall, the noise ricocheting off the walls, spun, and screamed. He shouldn’t have cared, not even a little. All Bannack had to do was walk away from the facility and leave his past behind him. Every single memory would be wiped from existence. No memory of his family, Eloise, the bombs, or trauma. He would be clean and able to wander with nothing to pull him down.

  That same world would now mean Eloise never existed. He would forever forget her name, their childhood spent together, but then it wouldn’t matter after the memory wipe. And she would be dead.

  Bannack took a deep, painful breath and closed his eyes. She was in the facility for a reason. He had seen the handcuffs.

  Was Eloise’s life less important than forgetting his own? No one deserved to be left for dead, but he had spent too long living with the guilt of his mother’s and sister’s deaths that he didn’t know if he had it in him to keep going.

  Taking a half-step away, his mother’s voice echoed in his head, stopping him cold. “We do not leave those we love behind.”

  Bannack grimaced. It had been her favorite phrase, and as a child he hated it because whenever he ran off to go play with his friends, his mot
her would repeat the phrase, and then he’d be stuck with his sister who could barely keep up. Now, her words popped into his head only to poke at his already nauseous stomach.

  Swearing to himself, Bannack planted his feet.

  “Fine!” Bannack grumbled and began his search for Eloise. “I’ll go get her.”

  He quickly found her trapped by two guards. She stood in a low stance and glared at him when he arrived.

  “Until Amee gets back with Joy, we have to keep her here,” one man said.

  “Well, what do we do with her until then?” The other asked.

  The first man shrugged. “She’s dangerous. Did you see what she did to Percy? Sliced his face right open.”

  “Hey!” Bannack yelled, and both men turned.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  He charged the men. They swung at him with their batons, one clocking him under the chin. Bannack’s teeth knocked together, and his chin throbbed. This amplified Bannack’s fight, and he punched, kicked, and stabbed at the men. With a kick to the gut, a guard fell.

  The remaining man grabbed Bannack’s torso, pinning his arms to his side. He thrashed, anger rippling through him, but the man held on tight. Something cracked, and the man jerked and fell. Bannack landed on the man, grunting in surprise, and saw an upside-down view of Eloise holding a baton.

  She glared at Bannack. “What are you doing here?”

  Bannack searched the guards for any usable weapons. “Helping you.”

  “I don’t want your help.”

  “Look,” Bannack, without looking at her, handed Eloise a second stun baton, knife, and cording, “we are better as a team and when we get out, we can talk about what happened. Agreed?”

  She stared at him, her jaw muscles working. “Fine.”

  They wound through the hallways, checking any unlocked doors for a windowed room. They went up a second level before they found one and ran into several guards along the way. Seeing Eloise fight, with her tight and precise attacks, meant someone highly skilled had trained her. And well.

  One look at Eloise confused him. No bruises. No cuts. He could have sworn she got injured at one point.

  “Come on!” Eloise motioned in a wide arc as she held open a door. “Through here.”

  Bannack swung his baton toward the ceiling, hitting a woman in the chin, and her body slammed into the wall before she crumpled to the floor.

  Joy’s scream came from the end of the hallway. Bannack glanced up. He froze. Her face, contorted in anger, brought images of him in rags and huddled on the floor, pleading and screaming.

  “Oi!” Eloise’s call brought him back to the present, and he ran through the door. While Eloise grabbed a chair to bar the entrance, Bannack ran to open the window. With both exits protected and no time to check them, a window was their only option for escape.

  “No one is guarding this one so we—”

  The door flung open, sent the chair flying, and Eloise tumbled. Bannack stood by the window with his teeth clenched.

  Joy walked in. “You,” she said and glared at Bannack. “I should have known.”

  “You are alone,” growled Bannack. “Bad move.”

  Eloise hit Joy in the back with the chair. A woman appeared around the corner. A single open palmed strike to Eloise’s jugular knocked her out. Bannack swore, jumped down from the ledge by the window. The woman swung. Bannack inhaled through his nose when the hit jarred his arm. Lashing out with his hand, he hooked the crook of his elbow around her wrist and twisted. Hard. The woman screamed when her arm snapped.

  Wasting no time, Bannack lifted the unconscious Eloise through the window, climbed out, and ran from the facility. Enraged screams took seconds to follow him.

  What am I doing? How the hell did I get wrapped up in this?

  Of course, he knew, but it hadn’t been remotely close to what he wanted to accomplish for the day. Joy would never allow him back. He would never get his memory wipe, and it was all because of his mother and a woman with dark red hair.

  The dry grass crunched underneath Bannack’s boots and the fresh air rushed past him as the screams grew closer, Joy’s voice loudest of them all. He ran in the darkness. Only the moonlight lit his path.

  She wailed. “Get her back!”

  Almost out of sight of the building, something sliced across Bannack’s side. Fire burned across his skin. He stumbled forward, losing his grip on Eloise. To protect her, Bannack rotated as he fell, landing on concrete hidden beneath grass. She knocked the wind out of him when she landed, dead weight, on his stomach. Squirming on the ground while radiating pain flashed across his side, up his torso, and down his legs, Bannack groaned and removed his jacket. He had to move. Now. Or he wouldn’t last much longer.

  Whirling around in a desperate search for something to hide behind, Bannack saw a shed, part of it hidden by brambles.

  It’s my only chance.

  Groaning in pain and struggling to regain his footing, Bannack pulled Eloise into the shadows. He turned the corner of the shed just as several guards ran past.

  What am I going to do now? I need to think. Where can I—

  He knew. Somehow, some way, Bannack and Eloise had to get to the twin bridges known as The Narrows.

  Only the woman who lived in a plane could help him now.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bannack

  “Put me down.” Eloise shoved against his chest, and he released her. She glanced at the sunset. “How long was I out?”

  “Few minutes.”

  A sliver of light shone through the trees, and it made the world around them a bit more visible. As they walked, dry twigs and branches splintered underfoot. The sharp scent of pine hung in the air, pushed around by a small breeze. Eloise stepped onto a rusted train track, her arms crossed, and looked at Bannack.

  “Are we going to talk about it?”

  “Nothing much to say. I broke in, found you, and we escaped.”

  “Okay. But why? Why were you there in the first place?”

  He looked at her, one eyebrow raised, then said in a slow drawl, “Unfinished business.”

  “That’s not a good enough answer.”

  “Look. You have your reasons, and I have mine. I am not interested in why you were there, please give me the same courtesy.”

  A stream of water dripped from his hand as he pulled a western skunk cabbage from the ground. His side stung, and he grunted, waiting until the pain subsided to a manageable level. He pulled the balled-up jacket away from his side. Blood covered his shirt and jacket, not enough to be dangerous, but he needed to get patched up.

  “You’re bleeding,” Eloise said.

  He looked at her, keeping his gaze neutral.

  “Okay, yeah, that was a dumb comment.” She walked over to him. “Can I at least help you?”

  Human contact had been so scarce in his years alone, Bannack’s first reaction was to pull away. The hair on the back of his neck and arms raised. Then he realized he would appreciate the help. He nodded.

  Eloise took the jacket and lifted his shirt. She touched his side. Bannack knew she was inspecting his laceration, but the mere experience of touch made his senses flare. He didn’t like it. It made his skin crawl.

  “Do you know where some broadleaf plantain is?” Eloise asked.

  “Up the hill. Be careful. Joy’s men may still be around.”

  She waved her hand over her shoulder. A few minutes later, she returned with the deep green leaves of the plantain and as she began crushing them, Bannack listened for voices or footsteps, anything to signal approaching humans.

  Bannack hissed as Eloise spread a poultice of broadleaf plantain and western skunk cabbage onto his cut. It would need stitches. The herbs and strips of his shirt would have to do until he could get to Kendal. The journey would take—Bannack looked skyward—the rest of the day. He groaned internally.

  As Eloise wrapped strips of his shirt around his tors
o, she asked, “What unfinished business?”

  She will not let it go, will she?

  “It is not a good thing.”

  “I can handle a bit of unpleasantness.”

  Bannack looked away as Eloise finished wrapping his torso. “My family died several years back. Joy can wipe memories. I visited the facility, hoping Joy would help.”

  He didn’t expect Eloise to chuckle, but she did. “And what makes you think she would help? She doesn’t even know you.”

  Bare tree branches clattered together in the wind, the sound similar to bones being shaken, and the creek gurgled while Bannack stared at Eloise. She blinked, her mouth forming a circle.

  “Oh. I get it.” She laughed and stood. “So, you not only almost choked me out, but you’re a part of Joy’s mental plan to save Seth’s life, too? Is this some sick joke? Is Joy going to jump out and say “boo” or is that your job? Are you just leading me on, getting me to trust you, only to take me right back to her?”

  Her anger put him on edge. He didn’t do well with yelling, and even though he did his best to hide his reactions, Bannack couldn’t stop the shame from crashing through him. He suffocated under its weight. Eloise continued to rant and with each word, he shrunk further into himself until all that remained was anger. Hot, uncontrollable anger.

  “I cannot go back there!” Bannack stood, his fists balled. “I destroyed every chance to forget my family, my sins, and myself when I saved your ass! Five years I’ve waited! You could be more grateful.”

  “Excuse me?” Eloise climbed on a rock to stand face to face with him. “I didn’t ask you to do that for me. You just assumed I needed help. I had it handled!”

  “Does this look like you have things handled?” Bannack grabbed the cuffs still connected to Eloise’s wrist and her arm came with it.

  Eloise made a loud grunt, her lips pursed, and didn’t speak. She watched him, unphased by his outburst. “Fine.” She yanked her hand away. “Maybe I needed a bit of help.”