The sentinels had spread out at the front of the building. I landed directly behind them, touching down as gracefully as a panther. I rose to my feet, glancing at the backs of their suits, wondering at the technological genius that made all of those gears and springs work together, meshing flesh and bone. I’m good with machines, but not that good. The half-breed engineers who created the sentinels were pure genius. Mad genius.
I heard the faint clicking and whirring of the machinery under their armor and noted the steady rattle of the steam condenser and boiler that drove it all. The boiler housings on the back of their suits looked like rectangular boxes made of copper-plated steel. Being an obvious vulnerability, the Vangars had gone to great lengths to protect their power source. I doubted even a high-powered rifle could puncture that boiler.
One of the sentinels noticed me. He turned, swinging his scattergun in my direction. I latched onto his arm and heaved myself upward. I moved gracefully, without hesitation. Before he even realized what I was doing, I had climbed his suit just like a tree. I stood over the Vangar’s helmet, straddling it with one foot on each shoulder. He waved his gun in the air trying to knock me off, but I easily dodged out of reach.
“Meva!” he called out to his companions. “Help!” At the sound of his voice, the others ceased their firing and turned to see what was the matter. They raised their scatterguns to shoot me, but the sentinel cried out, “Naya, Naya!”
If they shot at me, they’d probably kill him, too. His armor could protect the Vangar from a weapon like that, but the steel mesh on his helmet was an obvious weakness when it came to scatter-guns. He didn’t want to risk it.
I smiled grimly. I noticed a latch on the side of his helmet and on a hunch, I pulled the linchpin. I bent my knees and yanked back as hard as I could, thinking that I might have found a way to remove the helmet. It moved slightly, but it was fighting me. I had missed another latch somewhere.
I stood up and kicked it. Instead of pulling free, the helmet twisted sideways, binding against the rest of the suit, leaving the Vangar inside half-blinded. He dropped his scattergun and reached up to straighten the helmet, but his large clumsy hands broke a piece of copper tubing in the process.
Hot oil spurted out of the tube, splattering painfully across my arm. I sprang backwards, deftly landing on the ground behind him. As my feet touched down, I heard the warrior inside the suit screaming. The hot oil was working its way through the cracks, burning his skin. I glanced down at my arm and saw a dozen small blisters beginning to form. I almost felt sorry for the Vangar. Almost.
The other sentinels had their scatterguns trained on me, but they didn’t dare shoot for fear of injuring their companion. Instead, they lowered their weapons and rushed me. I took a cautious step back, making some quick mental calculations, and then dashed for the hole in the wall.
I leapt through the opening as the heavy kathud of a scattergun went off behind me. I dove for the ground, hoping the stonework foundation might offer some protection. Projectiles riddled the wall above me, tearing holes through the tin siding and hammering into the brick building across the street. The pellets whistled as they ricocheted off the brick wall, sending puffs of dust up in the air.
The first shot was high. Luckily, I had gone low. I rolled aside as I landed and came to my feet at the corner of the building. Another shot went off, closer this time but still wildly inaccurate. I cursed myself once again for not bringing a weapon. I should have known better.
Standing at the corner of the building, I took a step back, positioning myself at an angle to the adjacent building across the alleyway. With a burst of speed, I ran straight at it. I had learned the trick from a Tal’mar thief when I was a child. He was the only full-blood Tal’mar I’d ever met, and he made his living picking the pockets of Vangars and other corrupt businessmen of Avenston. Unbeknownst to Tinker, I had followed the Tal’mar around for a while, learning his trade. I helped him occasionally, and for this he gave me trinkets and coins that I used to buy food. More importantly, he taught me certain skills that came in handy later in my life, especially at moments like this.
When I reached the corner of the adjacent building I leapt up, climbing the wall several steps, and then pushed away, twisting as I flew over the narrow alley. As I hit the outside corner of the factory, I curled my legs up like springs. The tin siding rattled noisily as I rebounded, pushing back toward the first building. Just like that, in two jumps I was within reach of the roof. Or so I thought.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dark and massive hurtling towards me. I twisted awkwardly in midair trying to avoid the object. As I turned, a massive axe whooshed by my head, missing me by an inch. I contorted my body, struggling to regain my balance, straining to reach the roof of the building. As I reached the arc of my flight, I barely caught the ledge with my fingertips. I instantly knew it wasn’t enough of a handhold to support my weight.
Using my momentum, I swung myself forward, gliding along the side of the building, trying to bring my feet up to the level of the roof. I swung my legs up over my head, curving my knees back towards the ledge. I vaulted upside down and gently came to rest hanging by my knees with my back against the wall. My hair dangled down beneath me, my arms at my side, fingers searching desperately for a handhold. The hard cobblestone street stretched out below, taunting me.
I took a deep breath, analyzing my precarious situation. I had spent my momentum. There was nowhere else to go. I bent my torso, trying to reach up to the ledge of the roof. My foothold immediately started to give. I felt myself sliding away from the ledge and I quickly straightened out, pressing my back up to the wall. I turned my head to stare awkwardly at the sentinels as they stepped around the corner. They raised their weapons, training their sights on me. I closed my eyes, measuring, calculating.
I couldn’t drop. Not that far and not at that angle. I’d never make it to my feet. I’d break my neck in the fall, and that was if I was lucky. If I wasn’t, I’d survive long enough for the sentinels to make me wish I had broken my neck.
I heard deep taunting laughter from below, and the unmistakable click of a scattergun round being loaded into the chamber.
Chapter 2
I was as good as dead and I knew it. I was tempted to let go, knowing that at least I’d rob the Vangars of a kill. No, I thought. Better to let them shoot me. It’ll end faster.
“Why don’t you cowards fight a real man?” a voice shouted below. I cringed. I glanced sideways and saw Kale rushing the sentinels with a length of soft iron pipe. One of the sentinels turned to face him just in time to take the full brunt of that pipe across his face. His helmet rang like a bell. The pipe bent, bowing slightly at the middle.
Unfazed, the sentinel lashed out with his scattergun. Kale leapt deftly aside, responding with a hammering blow to the sentinel’s midsection. Inside his armor, the Vangar warrior laughed.
The second sentinel watched this interplay for a moment. He decided his assistance wasn’t needed, and then turned his attention back to me. He raised his scattergun to shoot me but then paused. For some reason, he thought better of it. He replaced the weapon in its sheath and looked up at me. Through the cage of his helmet, I saw a glint of teeth as he smiled wickedly. Suddenly, I understood. I clenched my jaw, my fingernails clawing at the brick wall.
The sentinel’s suit chugged and whirred as he stepped up to the corner of the building below. He tilted his head back and gazed at me for a moment, and then took a swing at the wall. Bricks exploded outward as his large metallic fist hammered into the structure. A wave of energy rushed up and down the side of the building. A small scream escaped my lips. The surface of the wall behind my back rolled like an ocean wave. The sound of shattering bricks and plaster was almost like breaking glass.
I lost traction and slid a few more inches. The leather of my boots caught the ledge and I blinked slowly, taking a deep, shuddering breath. The Vangar nodded approvingly at his handiwork. He smiled again, and then t
ook another swing.
This time, the wooden stud inside the wall snapped and the entire corner of the building dropped several inches. I dropped with it, momentarily freefalling. As the building settled, my legs caught the ledge again. I slid a few inches to the side and came to a bouncing halt, my heart racing in my chest, blood rushing dizzily through my head.
The wood framing behind the wall creaked and groaned like the hull of a ship in a hurricane. Bricks trickled down. The sentinel let out a deep, rumbling laugh as they bounced off his armor. I twisted my head frantically from side to side looking for something -anything- to latch onto. I realized that during the partial collapse, the edge of the building had opened up a handhold. I saw exposed timbers, but they were just out of reach. If I could just swing a little closer, I might reach the opening at the edge of the building…
Kaboom!
The sentinel’s fist smashed into the wall again and the entire corner gave way. The building made a moaning, creaking sound as the top of the wall separated from the structure. It tilted awkwardly outward from the rest of the building, dangling me out over the street. I caught my breath as I realized the entire building was about to collapse on top of me.
I twisted my body in a desperate attempt to swing toward the crumbling ledge. As I reached out, I felt the entire section of wall give way beneath me. I reached for the corner that was no longer there, and felt my hand close on one of the wall studs. I grabbed it with both hands, pulling myself forward as the bricks collapsed around me.
Chunks of brick and plaster rained down, pulverizing my arms, my legs, and the back of my head. I cried out, unable to let go, not daring to look up for fear of having one of those bricks smash me in the face. The board swung out and away from the building as it collapsed. I held on as long as I could, until the stud slid from my grip and the inertia threw me into a freefall.
I saw the street coming at me. I did my best to twist into a position where I could roll when I hit the ground, hopefully absorbing some of the impact. I’m not sure if I actually succeeded because the next thing I knew, everything was silent.
I was lying flat on my back. My eyes fluttered open and I sucked in a deep breath. A cloud of dust filled the air, so thick that I couldn’t see more than a few feet in any direction. I instantly started to cough.
I felt hands on my shoulders and twisted my head to see Kale trying to lift me. I turned, pushing awkwardly to my feet, and let out a cry as my hands scraped across the cobblestones. I held them out, examining my bloody palms. The board that had saved my life had also rubbed the flesh from my palms and left splinters and gashes all over my hands. I grimaced, pulling one of the larger splinters from my exposed flesh.
Kale gave me a dark look. He handed me his gloves and nodded that I should follow him. I accepted them gratefully, wincing as I slid them over my exposed flesh. My mind flashed back to seeing him wielding that iron pipe. “What were you thinking?” I said quietly, wincing as I flexed my hands in the gloves.
“What?”
“What were you thinking, attacking that sentinel with a pipe? Are you nuts?”
He smiled cavalierly. “I had to do something to save you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Idiot,” I mumbled.
He shot me a mischievous grin and then broke into a run up the street. I took off after him, ignoring the painful bruises up and down my body. I took half a dozen steps before I realized that I was running with a limp. I glanced down and realized that my leg too, had been injured. A shard of wood several inches long was sticking out of my thigh.
“Wait!” I called out quietly. I stopped and bent over to pull the shard free. Kale looked horrified as I yanked the splinter out and a stream of blood trickled from the open wound.
“You need a doctor,” he whispered.
I was going to say I was fine, but I didn’t get a chance. We both heard the unmistakable sound of heavy steel boots coming up the street behind us, and we broke into a run.
I threw a glance over my shoulder as we ran, and I caught a glimpse of the sentinels racing towards us through the smoke and the dust. Their armor looked red under the light of the moon and Tinker’s warning again came to mind. Perhaps, I thought grimly, I should have listened to the crazy old man.
I saw a flash of color on the cobblestones and realized it was my blood. I was leaving a trail that would lead the sentinels directly to us. I threw my gaze up and down the street, trying to formulate a plan. A narrow, winding street opened up to my left. I recognized it as one of the old routes that led down into a seedy southern Dockside neighborhood.
“There,” I said, pointing. Kale nodded, and ran that direction. I let him get a few strides ahead of me and then I turned and ran the other way. By the time he’d realized what I’d done, it was already too late. The sentinels were between us.
I had forced them to either split up or choose one of us to chase. As expected, they chose me. I swerved to the right, climbing north up a narrow street into Hillcrest. Two and three story buildings loomed over me. These were the homes of the working class, the merchants and laborers who were either clever or weak enough to avoid becoming slaves in the mines. Of all the people in Avenston, these were the ones who led relatively normal lives. Hillcrest was about as good as it got.
I reached the summit and saw the rest of the Dockside District stretching out below. A smile turned up the corners of my mouth. Those were the streets I knew best. If I couldn’t shake the sentinels in Dockside, I deserved to die.
I heard thundering footsteps coming up the hill behind me and I took off at a run. My plan had seemed clever enough at first: lead the sentinels into Dockside and then lose them in the maze of warehouses, shanties, and dark alleys. I’d done it before. It shouldn’t have been hard. The one thing I didn’t count on was the second patrol of sentinels waiting for me at the bottom of the hill.
Halfway down the street, two more sentinels stepped around the corner and leveled their scatterguns at me. I was running downhill so fast that I couldn’t possibly turn aside without injuring myself. Instead, I used my momentum to leap to the top of a five-foot wall that ran along the street. I flew along the top of the wall and then leapt up onto a second-floor balcony, slamming into the rail as I landed.
I grunted, forcing air back into my lungs, and climbed over the rail. The sentinels opened fire, and scattergun pellets ricocheted behind me. Chunks of plaster rained down.
I broke into a full-out run, launching myself from the balcony rail, and caught the edge of the next building. I pulled myself up onto the roof, turning to the northwest, running deeper into Dockside. I made it to the edge of the roof in just a few steps. I leapt into the air, vaulting towards the next rooftop. My leg screamed in pain as I landed, but I forced myself to keep moving.
Behind me, I heard the familiar kachunk, kachunk of a sentinel’s brisk walk. One of them had climbed the wall of the building behind me, ripping out bricks and siding all the way up. The entire building shook as he charged across the roof. I caught glimpses of three more sentinels in the street below and I began to worry.
Fighting a sentinel is a lot like fighting a bear. All weaknesses are simply illusion. They may seem clumsy until you’re standing in front of one, just trying to stay out of reach. They might seem slow, until one of them is chasing you. That’s when all of your preconceived notions vanish and you realize that you’ll be lucky just to get away alive.
Those were my feelings as I bounded from rooftop to rooftop at full speed, heart pounding in my ears, eyes searching for another way to shake them. I was fast. I had never met a human who could outrun me. Only the Kanters, the tattooed giants from the slaves mines might match my speed. Or, of course, a sentinel. And these sentinels were unusually determined.
I don’t know how long the race lasted. I only know that my body was screaming with pain and I couldn’t go on much longer. My lungs ached. I was beginning to feel dizzy from the loss of blood. We had crossed the rooftops of more than a dozen buildings.
>
I went back down to street level and ran into the narrowest, darkest alleyway I could find. Working my way back and forth through the dregs of Dockside, I was sure that I would lose the sentinels eventually. It had worked in the past. Sooner or later, they would give up the chase.
But this time was different. There were more of them, for one thing. And they had never pursued me with such vigor in the past. It was almost as if they feared to return without me… perhaps that was the reason. Perhaps they had been told to bring me back once and for all, or they would suffer.
Regardless, it soon became clear to me that I couldn’t go on. I had to find shelter. I had to rest and lick my wounds. I couldn’t shake the sentinels long enough to even catch my breath. Every time I came out of an alley, it seemed there was another sentinel waiting for me on the other side. Every time I vanished into the shadows, it seemed more of them came out of the woodwork. There was simply no escape.
And suddenly, strangely, I found myself at home.
I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d gotten there. My mind was a blur of streets, dark alleyways, and rooftops. They were all familiar to me, but in my state of mind, they were all more or less transient. It wasn’t until I found myself climbing the front stairs of our two-story shanty that I realized what I had done.
Halfway up the stairs I paused, realizing my horrible mistake. I turned back and saw three sentinels chugging down the street towards me. It was too late to turn back. I had nowhere else to go. I stood there for a moment struggling with my mistake, slowly coming to the realization that I only had one choice. I must give myself up. If I didn’t, they would find Tinker.
Even as I thought his name, I looked up and saw Tinker standing at the front door. The open door behind him hung awkwardly to the side, dangling by a broken hinge that had needed fixing for more than a year. In his arms, Tinker held an old blunderbuss. I recognized it as a weapon he had modified years ago. It didn’t shoot bullets or small projectiles. It shot half-rounds of cannon charges. It was powerful enough to knock the shooter off his feet if he wasn’t careful.
Blood and Steam (The Tinkerer's Daughter) Page 2