Dark Crypto (Thorne Inc. Book 1)

by Neil Mosspark

  “There’s going to be a lot of security,” Jack said. The metal head shook in disagreement.

  “I have to get inside. The suit’s not strong enough, and you don’t have the coordination to jump, and I’m not about to lift you up. You’re too heavy.”

  “Fine. I just don’t like being left alone.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes and stood. “You’re not here. Remember? It’s my skin. Not yours.” Forcing the issue, she charged forward through the rain toward the car park. At the wall she crouched, waiting for Jack to follow suit. His metal form lumbered forward across the open space.

  “Like this,” she whispered, leaning her back against the wall as though sitting in a chair.

  He mimicked her, and she slung the rifle. Planting a foot on his thigh, she stepped up onto his shoulders.

  “Now stand up,” she whispered.

  The drone's metal back ground against the concrete as Jack extended its legs. Olivia winced at the rumbling noise as she balanced on the metal shoulders. Her hands were still two feet from the edge of the next floor.

  “Lift your hands; I’m going to stand on them. You can push me up.”

  Obediently, Jack’s hands came up next to his shoulders. Placing each foot on the offered hands, she felt him press upward. As her body lifted, her fingers found the edge of the second floor of the car park. With a tenuous grip on the wet edge, she pulled herself up. Her shoes scrambled to gain purchase on the wet concrete wall.

  Below her, she saw Jack step back to watch her efforts. Cursing under her breath, she no longer had the option to reposition herself for a second attempt but rather had to work with the grip she had. She would have preferred to look over the edge first, but now getting over the edge was paramount. The twelve-foot fall onto the concrete beneath her was highly motivating. If she was unlucky, Jack might try to grab her as she fell. Olivia only wondered if he would accidentally crush her with his childlike control over the machine or just act as a metal object to fall awkwardly onto.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried again, pulling hard. As she neared the top, she kicked a foot up to the side, hooking an ankle on the floor. With three limbs pulling, she gracelessly heaved herself up and over the edge to straddle the wall.

  Olivia half expected a hail of gunfire or to be greeted by angry gang members furious about her intrusion, but no one presented themselves. A table and a few chairs sat in the nearby corner, surrounded by years of cigarette butts. The wet ash and tobacco filled her nose.

  Stepping inside, she unslung her weapon and turned off the safety. Scanning the darkness with the rifle, she inched toward the down ramp unchallenged. Her shoes barely sounded on the dry surface of the concrete floor. Only the occasional pile of dust and grit untouched by the rain outside crunched underfoot.

  Next to the down ramp, she eased her head slowly over the edge to look at the bottom level. Two heavy SUVs painted flat black sat pointed toward the closed door for a quick getaway, but neither of them was running. Their chassis were heavily modified with a lifted suspension on large tires for travel both on and off the road. The doors looked reinforced to protect against gunfire.

  Next to the wall she had just climbed was a pile of bodies. Gang colors affixed in tied armbands and stenciled images of skulls spray-painted on t-shirts clad the dead.

  Two voices spoke quietly below her.

  Pulling back, she descended the down ramp, keeping the thick concrete columns between herself and the black trucks. The shadows protected her as she continued down the gentle slope until she found herself in the corner opposite the trucks. In this inky patch of complete darkness, she let her eyes fully adjust, watching for any roving guards.

  It occurred to her that the car park was almost completely flush against the wall of both the Quarantine Zone and a nearby building. Crouching there, she watched as two men paced into view.

  She couldn’t tell if there was anyone else in the cars, but the warm air and the humidity didn’t make it seem likely that someone would want to sit in a vehicle without the air conditioning running.

  As the sentries turned away, she began inching out from the darkness.

  One of the men broke away and walked toward her. Immediately, she shifted her weight backward into the shadows, crouching with her weapon pointed at the moving figure. It was an easy shot from this distance, but the noise would bring others.

  From here she could see the heavy-set man's hands, the black anvil encircled with a thick black band. Her finger tightened slightly.

  Each step brought the man closer, until he stopped to peer up the ramp perpendicular to her. In the darkness, she held her breath. He was standing only a few feet away. The heavy-set man unzipped his pants and began urinating on a rusted car only a handful of feet away. The arc of moisture pattered against flattened rubber tires.

  His body turned slightly as he realized he was pissing uphill. In expert fashion, he kept the stream running and shifted the stream downhill and away from Olivia.

  Slinging her weapon, she hunched into a slight crouch on the balls of her feet.

  Like a ghost, her form rose from the darkness and into the light. Soft footfalls crossed the distance to right behind the man. The flow of urine stopped, and he looked down to zip himself up. Olivia halted like a statue behind the mercenary as she waited. The dark, cruel part of her heart wished she had a blade in her empty hands.

  Satisfied with his handiwork, the mercenary took one step back. She held her breath as he raised his head like an animal that smelled a predator on the wind. It could have been in that last moment he had the notion that something was wrong, but Olivia didn't give him time to contemplate what to do.

  Taking advantage of the hesitation, she leaped onto his back. Her long legs wrapped around his torso, pinning the man's hip holstered gun to his body. It dug into her inner thigh, but his first reaction of reaching for it to draw was blocked by her leg.

  While his hands floundered, her ankles locked into place. The lack of resistance allowed her right elbow to fully loop under the man's chin. She hooked her right hand behind her left elbow and placed her left hand behind the man's head, pressing forward hard, driving his throat into the small space. With the chokehold applied, she tightened her grip, her muscular arms flexing to constrict even further.

  The man tried to call out, but a quiet gurgle was all he could manage as his brain became starved of blood. Strong fingers clutched at her arms, digging into the muscle. The man stumbled, and she relaxed her legs, stepping back. His weakening hands tried to peel her off his neck, but his brain began to lose control of his body. Squeezing hard, she began walking backward toward the shadows, tilting his weight. Stumbling feet desperately tried to maintain balance as she pulled him along. Eventually, his legs gave out, and desperate hands dangled loosely.

  Like a spider dragging its prey to the corner of its web, she let the privacy of the darkness envelop them. Here she held on hard for a few extra seconds as she debated whether or not to leave him alive. How many people had he killed? Was he involved?

  Cursing quietly to herself, she let the man go and dropped him to the floor. His head bounced hard, but he was still snoring, barely alive.

  She stood and unslung her rifle in one smooth motion. Scanning the open space, she checked that she was not seen. With the body eased into the shadows, they wouldn’t find the man quickly.

  Olivia bent down again and searched the man in the darkness. There she found a pistol and three magazines. For a guard, he wasn’t heavily armed. She presumed that they weren’t expecting company after killing all of the gang members.

  Tucking the pistol into the back of her jeans, she shuffled forward silently, rifle tight in her grip. Each step brought her farther down the ramp and onto the main floor.

  She estimated that the other man likely would be near the far side and monitoring the door. At the back of the vehicle, she peered inside the windows. No one sat in the seats.

  A creak from an open door on the other vehicle
gave her pause.

  “You want water?” came a muffled voice from the second mercenary. It would only be a moment before the second merc realized that his friend was not in earshot. Quickly peering around the side of the vehicle, she could see the man at the next one curse reaching down to get the water bottle he had dropped next to the seat. The rifle was slung on his back, and he leaned in at an odd angle.

  She sprinted forward with all of her strength. Charging for the man half in and half out of the vehicle, she drove her legs hard to close the gap between them.

  With the merc beginning to extricate himself and oblivious to the situation, Olivia’s light frame collided with the outside of the door at high speed, levering it shut. Her intent was to stun him before clubbing him unconscious with her rifle, but his lifeless body dropped to the concrete floor with his neck bent at an inhuman angle.

  The bottle of water rolled onto the ground with a clatter. She bent down and listened. No angry calls for help. No footfalls. No alarms.

  Rolling his body under the vehicle, she quickly assessed the scene for any other threats.

  There had only been two guards. Counting herself lucky, she rushed toward the metal sliding door and lifted the heavy latch holding it closed. The rusting metal groaned as she slid it open far enough to see Jack standing in the rain with his weapon raised at her.

  “Dammit, Jack, don’t shoot me!” she called, dodging to the side.

  “Sorry, Olivia. Didn’t know if it was you or not. You were gone for a long time.”

  “We’re good now. Come in,” she said quietly.

  The metal body slipped through the crack. The howling wind slowed for a moment before angrily continuing.

  “The vehicles are warm,” Jack said, pointing at the hoods, confirming that the machine’s vision incorporated infrared.

  Olivia reached up and touched the still wet hoods. “They haven’t been here long. Dr. Gerrard can’t be too far ahead.”

  “Oh man! Are those bodies?” Jack’s metal body stumbled backward, and Olivia stepped out of the way.

  “Yes, bodies. Bad guys who killed bad guys. We’re still here for a reason, so pull it together.”

  “Sorry. Yeah. I just didn’t expect to see dead people.”

  “You realize you're going to have to likely kill someone with that, right?” Olivia pointed to the aging rifle he was still carrying.”

  “What if I just shoot them in the leg or something?”

  “Dammit, Jack, I need you to be a bit more aggressive than that. These guys will kill me if you don’t help.”

  “Okay. Okay. I get it.”

  “Now where’s the tunnel?”

  “It’s in the basement. I think it's down the stairwell.” He pointed to the doorway next to the ramps leading to the next floor.

  “You think?”

  “I only saw it once,” he said.

  Olivia stepped across the floor and pushed open the door, probing forward with her rifle. The metal of the hinges groaned and creaked, but there was no response from anyone above or below. She stood there for a moment, listening, but could only hear her heart pounding in her chest.

  Olivia wondered for a moment if Dr. Sanders was alive or dead. She hesitated to wonder if the worst had already been done by Gerrard and the remaining Black Anvil goons. Would this suicide mission accomplish anything but getting her killed as well?

  Steeling her nerves, she eased down the steps. The stairwell was clear of garbage as well as people, and a faint glow was seeping up from somewhere below. Easing downward, she probed forward with the rifle leveled at anyone unfortunate enough to be in the stairwell. As she turned the corner, she felt her finger tighten on the trigger even before registering the dead gang member lying against the wall. Multiple holes covered the man’s once white muscle shirt.

  Eying the body suspiciously, she stepped around him toward the only door at the bottom. A small hand-held lantern sat in the corner, casting a warm yellow glow. Olivia checked the doorknob. It twisted freely in her hand.

  Casting a quick look back at Jack's metal body, she took a deep breath to focus and pushed it open quickly. Stepping inside, she leveled her rifle, searching for threats. The tiny electrical and maintenance room barely had enough room for herself, let alone Jack, but the far wall had been chipped away. Beyond it was a hand-dug tunnel, reinforced with wooden beams and metal supports. It stretched out well under the Quarantine Zone wall. The soft breeze coming from the other side indicated to Olivia that there was an opening on the other end.

  It was also a shooting gallery. The straight line with no place to hide meant that anyone in the tunnel waiting ahead would have them dead to rights. Halfway down, she could see what looked like a T intersection.

  With her rifle up and ready to kill, Olivia moved forward quickly, limiting her exposure. After twenty meters or so, she slowed her speed and stepped quietly up to the T intersection that joined the tunnel from the left.

  Tipping her head and muzzle around the corner, she searched for a target. A gaunt woman with a gang color bandana sat leaning on a desk occupied by a large flat-screen television. The same telltale bullet wounds dotted her body. The short side tunnel held only the small desk and a few chairs. The oversized television on the desk appeared to display cameras from the car park, as well as the areas Olivia didn’t recognize.

  “Looks like their security,” Jack stated.

  “Yeah, a lot of good that did them,” Olivia said, turning to continue.

  “Wait,” Jack said, pointing to motion on one of the video feeds.

  Olivia turned back. “What?”

  They both could see the three SUVs sitting by the main door to the car park. The door was open, and people were moving around, looking at the vehicles. Looking at the bodies.

  “Uh-oh,” Olivia said, stepping back. She checked the tunnel from where they had come.

  “That’s not good.”

  “Nope, these guys aren’t concerned citizens. These are the guys wondering who killed all their friends.” Olivia could see them beginning to feed down the stairs.

  “They’re coming this way,” Jack said.

  “Let's move. We have to move quickly. If we get trapped in this tunnel, we’re dead.”

  Olivia continued on but nearly at a jog. The tunnel gradually started tilting upward, and she could see the darkness of the evening ahead. Reaching up, she pulled the string of lights down, yanking hard on the electrical cord. There was a sparking pop as the fragile wire snapped and arced in the new darkness. The entire tunnel’s light collapsed down to perfect darkness, enveloping them.

  She didn’t want to step outside as an illuminated target.

  “You ready?” she asked.

  He lifted his rifle and nodded. “As ready as I am going to get, I guess.”

  Olivia slipped out the door into the rain. The wind was picking up, and the rain that had been falling vertically was not being bashed against everything horizontally. Squinting against the maelstrom, she moved away from the door.

  “There.” Jack's metal finger pointed into the darkness.

  “I don’t see anything,” Olivia said, straining her eyes.

  “I can see a heat signature. It’s weak. It’s only because it's close, though. Maybe a hundred meters. I think it’s the bank the scientist showed us on the map.”

  “Can you see how many people are there?” Olivia asked.

  “No, just the heat coming out the doors and windows. The walls are too thick. There’s something over the windows too. Maybe blinds or something. I can’t see inside.”

  Olivia looked back into the tunnel; a flicker of light from the other end told her that someone was coming their way. “I might be able to deal with Gerrard and his mercs, but we can’t fight two groups.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Jack asked.

  “Come with me,” she said and walked away from the tunnel entrance, searching for some form of defensive position. What she initially mistook for a wall was what cou
ld only be described as a car laid on its side. The material of it appeared as though it was fused with a nearby pile of bricks, which looked as though it had melted and then rehardened.

  She wondered what had caused such a distortion to the metal and what could make a brick wall turn soft enough that a car could merge into it.

  Olivia pointed to the makeshift barrier. “Use the car as cover, and when you see them come out, just start shooting into the entrance of the tunnel. No one that’s coming out is going to be a good guy. These guys would kill you if they had a chance. Keep their attention. No matter what happens, just keep their attention. I need them to focus on you.”

  “I’m nervous,” Jack stated.

  “You’ll do fine. Short, controlled bursts. Shoot, stop, shoot, stop, repeat.”

  “What are you going to be doing?”

  “Someone’s got to rescue the girl, and you’re too nerdy to do it.”

  “If ... I mean when you get her, how are we getting back?”

  “Let me worry about that; you watch the tunnel. Got it?” Olivia ordered. She hadn’t considered an escape plan. She was making most of it up as she went. Jack jogged forward and almost made it to the distorted car when she watched him hook a foot on a rock and stumble. The rifle clattered to the ground for a second time that night.

  Jack looked around on his hands and knees. She could see the frantic searching as he looked around for his weapon. Finding it, he grasped it by the barrel and raised it up over his head like a child finding a prize in a cereal box.

  Olivia sighed and shook her head. “I’m going to die.”

  Chapter 20

  It only took Olivia a few minutes to feel completely lost in the darkness of the Quarantine Zone. She was forced to pause and wait for the slowly pulsing red warning lights to brighten high atop the quarantine wall. The color did little to settle her nerves.

  Crouched in a small depression, she waited for the brightening to begin. Peering through the rain, she could see she was hidden in a car-sized depression in the asphalt. It was shaped as though something heavy and round had fallen from a great height and landed, compressing both the asphalt and soil. She avoided the small, growing puddle at the bottom.