by Gideon Mills
In her trail was a line of Security Force members. They had gotten their shots in on her too. Sam had numerous cuts and bruises forming on her. Her clothes were ripped and torn apart. It wouldn’t be long before she had little on.
The three of them ripped a path through the group, as another joined them. Marcus covered their rear. They made a great team as they battled the Mara Corp lackeys and cleared the path to the elevator.
“Finally,” Ihor said.
Amita had no idea how long they had been fighting, nor did she care. They needed to stop the skirmish and have their victory. That was what she wanted and desired.
Ihor went to the right side of the elevator and connected his laptop that he pulled from his back. “Keep them off of me.”
“We will,” Marcus said, his voice harsh, gravelly. He had been screaming a lot. His eyes darted around the area.
They formed a circle around Ihor. Amita didn’t like turning her back to the elevator, but they had to.
The members saw Ihor, and many of them spun to fight them. Four rushed at the group. More tried, but they twisted around and left themselves exposed to others. It was then that Amita saw Bishop and Anna fighting in the group. They took out a few who had foolishly turned their backs.
Anna fought well for a non-modified person. Jonathan had trained them in a special martial arts style that helped give them a fighting chance. It worked well. It also helped that she had a gun hanging from her hip to use if needed.
The first member reached them, and Marcus took him out with a swift kick and punch. It was so fast and fluid that Amita had trouble following it.
In quick succession, they punched and kicked the men as they arrived to get to Ihor. Amita’s body ached from the fight, and she was ready for a reprieve. She glanced behind herself. Ihor was working frantically, and the elevator wasn’t showing any signs of life.
Two more attacked them, and Sam scrapped them with her brawler style. Kicking and punching them as she got within range. Witnessing her fight was painful, as Sam didn’t care if she was struck or not. She wouldn’t survive if she continued this way.
“I’ve got it!” Ihor yelled over the battle. “Not sure how long it will last.”
For Amita how long wasn’t important, so long as they had a slight reprieve. The group all shouted that the doors had been sealed. As word spread through the fighters, Amita could tell that news invigorated the Resistance. The battle on their side intensified, and a wave of emotion went through the crowd.
It wasn’t long after that the last Security Force member dropped to the ground. The fight was over. At least, the first part. Being in the center of this, Amita had heard no news of the rest of the assault.
The Resistance fighters that still stood, all stared at each other. Each and every one of them wore the horrors of battle. It made Amita sick and uneasy. So many people had been injured or worse, and they thought of this as a victory, a win for the Resistance, and yet, they had lost a dozen of their people if not more.
Amita walked through the bodies on the ground and checked for wounded, doing what she could to help those hurt. News of their victory spread, and cars arrived filled with people to pull out the wounded. Marcus and Amita worked together to help those most gravely injured. He was bleeding from his side.
“You need to be checked out,” Amita said.
He rubbed the wound. “It’s nothing.”
It didn’t look like nothing, but this wasn’t the time to force it. When they retreated to the meeting point, Amita would then press Marcus to see one of the doctors. Luckily, a few doctors had joined, but they didn’t have medical facilities. They made do as best they could.
After a tiring time, they exited the city and the battleground. Outside, many of the street level people were being evacuated, those who had survived the riots and wanted to help. As they left the city, many stayed behind and bunkered down. They were too scared to leave what they thought was a good life.
Soon, they would realize how bad they had it. How much better their lives would be. No more Mara Corp paying them peanuts and forcing them to work twelve-hour days seven days a week. The end to fighting to stay alive. It pained Amita that so many remained here.
The new camp was closer, and they arrived in a fraction of the time. As Amita exited the car, she walked around and took Marcus by the hand.
“You are going to see a doctor,” Amita said.
“I’m fine.”
“No.” Amita started to drag him away, but he resisted. “Listen to me, bucko. You are bleeding. You will do no good if you pass out from blood loss.”
“She’s right,” Ihor said. “Go. Get some stitches and be back in it.”
“Fine,” Marcus relented.
Amita turn to Sam. “You too.”
“Agreed,” Ihor said.
Now holding hands, Marcus and Amita went to a tent with a red cross on it, the universal symbol for as long as anyone could remember. The medical area. As they stepped inside the giant tent, they saw it was filled with people from end to end. All those had been injured during the fight. Ihor walked in right behind them with Sam, who was still trying to say she was fine. Those two and trying to be Mr. and Ms. Tough Guy. Two of the people Amita cared for the most and they were doing their best to make her worry.
Being in here made it worse. So much pain. So much agony.
The doctors rushed around from person to person, doing their best to treat them.
On a cot closest to them was Anna.
Amita walked over to her. “You okay?”
She shrugged. “Hurt like hell. Feel like I’m going to hurl.”
“If you do, please let me get out of the way.”
Anna smiled. “I’ll try.”
Marcus walked next to Amita. They stood waiting for several minutes for a doctor, and talked to Anna. She had done well in the fight. She wasn’t dead. That alone was a feat. Fighting highly modified people and not having a single mod herself made her one badass girl.
Another familiar face walked in. Bishop. The former Security force member came straight to them. “You doing all right?” he asked.
Anna nodded. “I’ll be fine. Nothing they can’t fix.”
Bishop had come to treat her like a little sister after he’d joined. Amita couldn’t say she blamed him. Bishop was a protector and fighter. It was tough to see him as one of the thugs who made up the Security Force.
A doctor arrived and took Marcus to a chair not far away. With no beds left, it was the best available. The short man in a stained medical uniform cleaned the area around the wound. “Not too deep. A few stitches and you’ll be good to go,” he said. “One of the few lucky ones.”
Stitching Marcus up was done in no time. The doctor did the work and moved on to another patient, while another did similar work on Sam. Both were able to leave, but Anna was forced to stay behind. Amita feared that Anna might need more than she was letting on, that Anna might soon be modified if they had the access to it.
48
Recovery
Marcus’s body ached, but he felt better after seeing the doctor. The wound would heal, and he would have a gnarly scar from it, one he hoped Amita would find hot. He smiled at the thought of her running her hands over it and tickling him. This wasn’t the time for that. He needed to focus.
The night was late. It was too dark for another attack on the city, but they would begin tomorrow. Marcus didn’t feel safe here. They were so close. If Keres wanted to risk it, she could send out a strike force here. Or worse, just bomb them.
The Resistance had attacked and started a war. It was official now. There was no turning back from this and the wrath of Keres and the Mara Corp. And technically the New Republic, but the difference between the company and the country was a fragile line that blurred beyond recognition.
Marcus walked to the center of the camp with Amita, Ihor, and Sam. He was hoping to get the recap of the day and see what actually happened. What he witnessed would haunt him for the
rest of his life.
In the command tent was a horde of people. The tension was thick as the voices raised about the next part of the attack. It appeared to Marcus that his mother and Jonathan didn’t see eye to eye on the right path. The rest of the people were taking sides. This wasn’t going to end well. Marcus hated to see the Resistance fight over the right path.
Marcus walked to the center of the room. “What is going on?”
“Your mother wanted to attack tonight. Not to take the foot off the pedal,” Jonathan said.
His mother turned to him. “If we let Keres regroup, she will be ready.”
Marcus closed his eyes. The point of waiting was to let the people rest, to be able to attack and not be hurt. As Marcus thought about the plan and both of the leaders’ opinions, he could see the pluses and minuses to both.
“I understand both of you,” Marcus said, “but we can’t be fighting amongst ourselves.”
His mother nodded. “I know.”
“What was the plan to start?” Marcus asked a question he knew the answer to.
“Wait,” his mother said.
“At one time, you thought it wise. Maybe we should stick to the course.”
“Fine.” His mother sounded annoyed and angry, but Marcus knew that when she sensed defeat, she would relent. “We can wait.”
“Good,” Jonathan said. “Our people are tired and worn. Today took longer than anticipated, and Keres used more people than we thought to defend the elevator.”
That fight had been truly haunting and scary. The number of people injured or killed had been high. The worst part was that Marcus had taken a life. He had done it to save Amita, but still, he had taken a life. Never in his life had Marcus thought he would do that. But now he had, and it made him sick to his stomach. His nerves were on edge. He loathed the feeling he had inside and wanted to move on.
He wasn’t sure if he would say anything soon, but seeing Amita near death herself had infuriated him. Marcus had to save her at all costs.
Marcus had done just that and now had to live with the consequences. Whatever they may be.
The next morning, after a fitful night of sleep, Marcus woke. Amita was up already, a rarity. Marcus usually was the first to get up in the morning. The young man enjoyed watching Amita sleep. The rise and fall of her chest. Her delicate skin and eyes. Taking it all in as she slept made the day better. Without it today, Marcus wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Amita had a smile. Her energy level was up. She must have had a great night’s sleep.
“What time is it?”
“You have twenty minutes before we go.”
“You should have woken me up” Marcus jumped up and got ready for the impending attack on Detroit. The second assault of what he hoped would be many. The freeing of Detroit was going to take days or even weeks.
“You were sleeping and looked so peaceful. I just couldn’t. Now I see why you watch me sleep.”
Marcus smiled. He would have done the same to her if the roles had been reversed, and she knew it.
Once Marcus was dressed, she walked over to him and kissed him. “Good luck,” she said.
“We can do it.”
“We can.”
Together, they went to the car. Their team was already there.
Nickolas nodded. “About time. Was beginning to worry.”
“She let me sleep.”
“You going to be good?” Nickolas gestured to the wound on Marcus’s side.
“I’m fine. Nothing serious. Won’t slow me down.”
“Good.”
Even though Marcus knew that Amita hated it when Nickolas drove, he let the man get behind the wheel. Marcus was still tired and was going to rest on the short drive. Just to clear his mind of all the doom and gloom.
Once it was time to depart, a convoy of cars and trucks left. Nearly all of the Resistance. This was going to be a huge fight, one they needed to win.
“How are we going to the second level?” Amita asked. “The elevators will be a slaughtering ground for us.”
Ihor smiled. “What most Streeters don’t know is that there are ramps at the end of Level Two on the northeast part. Can’t be seen from inside the bottom level.”
Sam and Amita both had stunned faces. It wasn’t long before both also had looks of fury.
“You’re kidding,” Amita said.
Her tone displayed her anger, and Marcus understood. It wasn’t common knowledge to the unmodified. Even some of the modified didn’t know about it.
“Why didn’t we use it to leave before?” Amita asked.
“Too dangerous,” Ihor said. “Guarded by the Security Force.”
Amita nodded. “That makes sense.”
It wouldn’t be as easy to control as the elevator on which, with the right chip, a person could go to the level they were cleared for. Marcus tried to calm Amita down as Nickolas did his video game driving impression. Marcus closed his eyes. That as the best way to do it as Nickolas drove. How Ihor could sit in the front and not be terrified was a talent.
The city and its levels appeared, reaching into the sky. Seeing Detroit from here was a sight to behold, one that amazed Marcus. It reached high into the atmosphere. When on the levels, one didn’t realize just how high up they were, but from here, it was clear. Even the second level was high.
The ramp was large, with a camp at its foot. Marcus’s mom had been right. Keres had had time to prep and had made a camp for her fighters. They were out and ready for the attack on the ramp. That was the next logical step for the Resistance.
Losing the street level meant little to Keres. At least, Marcus assumed it did. The riots had left it gutted as it was. Never mind that it was filled with people Keres looked down upon. Marcus had lost track of the number of times Keres had said something to put down the people who lived on the Street or even level two.
It had been years since she had been down to three. Visiting Amita had to be the first time since Marcus was baby. The leader of the New Republic hated those who didn’t act or do certain things. That much was clear.
“Great,” Amita said. “How many people is that?”
“Too many to count,” Sam said.
She had been quiet the whole trip. Marcus worried about her. She had been in a frenzy yesterday, more so than even he had been. Sam had gone through a lot, just like Marcus, at the hands of Keres and Jameson.
She should be recovering, just like Marcus should be, but they couldn’t afford that luxury. They were needed, and they wanted to fight. They had to get back at the Mara Corp.
After Nickolas parked and exited the car, Marcus walked next to him. With that many Security Force members here, the plan would be simple. An old-school line up and fight. This would be like the battles they had read about from before the fall of America. Back even further than that to the days of the Romans and Greeks. Except with guns and people with mods on them. The problem with doing that style of battle was that with the firepower they had today, it would be bloody. The gore would be high. Many people would die. That couldn’t be avoided. Marcus looked to his right and to his left. Many of the people he saw would die.
He prayed Amita and his friends wouldn’t be part of the casualties. Marcus didn’t know what he would do if Amita died. She was his world, his life.
Marcus held her hand and leaned to her. “My love,” he whispered. “Be safe. Return to me.”
“I will. For you.”
They kissed.
The line marched forward. It was time to strike the Mara Corp again.
49
A Giant Loss
Amita walked next to Marcus holding his hand, with Sam on her other side. Never in her life had Amita seen so many people in one place. That wasn’t true. She had, every morning when she had worked at the factory. The street had been filled with people just like this.
The tension was similar too, as everyone feared they were going to die. Not make it through another day. Much
like life on the streets. But there was hope in the air too. That this would lead to greater and better things.
Amita didn’t want to lose her friends today. If they died, Amita would be lost. Marcus had to make it. Sam had to. Even Ihor and Nickolas. She had come to enjoy them all in different ways. They made her feel happy and loved.
Yet, Amita feared that more than one would be dead, and she would be lost and confused. That was the way epic battles worked. At least, she had been told that. Marcus had read a lot and talked about it. Amita was able to read and remembered some of the stories, but they were distant in her memories.
The Resistance walked a slow and steady pace to the force lined up at the bottom of a prodigious ramp. It was large enough for several trucks to drive on and off. It angered Amita to learn of it, but as she thought about it, Amita realized there had to be some way to get supplies to and from the city and not by plane and helicopter.
The closer they got to the ramp, the faster they went, increasing the pace. Amita let go of Marcus’s hand, hoping that she would be able to feel it again soon. A moment later, Amita was at a full sprint, rushing toward the battle.
The Security Force members opened fire on them, and those who could returned in kind. Bodies dropped up and down the line on both sides. Amita did her best not to look at the fallen or worry about them. She could worry about them later.
In a chorus of shouts and grunts, they reached the line of Security Force members. The impact was intense, just like yesterday. Bodies thrashed against each other. Metal against metal clanged. As Amita dodged a punch from the member she hit, she sneaked through the line to the next level of members.
The fight was intense. Punches and kicks were flying around in a blur. Keeping track of the action around her was too much. Fighting member after member was tough and emotional. Amita threw so many punches and kicks that she lost track.
Slowly, they made progress in pushing the force back. They outnumbered them, but that wasn’t going to last. Many of their people were dropping, though not dead. Amita heard the screams of pain and suffering. They were too hurt to fight. With the SF being so modified and the Resistance not, they needed the superior numbers.