by Clint Stoker
“We caught the doctor,” said Zeke, “He had a gun and a knife. The rebirth is missing.”
Did they really think Air was still on their side? “How long was I out?” Air rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Zeke stepped in a little closer. “I don’t know, maybe twenty…”
“What happened to the rebirth?” Dex interrupted.
Air looked at the cart and searched for an explanation. “Uh…” His forehead started to ache for no real reason. It was a different kind of pain. His mind went back to Thomas. The pain was a kind of prophecy. The pain seemed to sharpen as the realization set in. He was going to die. Somehow he knew it. His body was predicting it.
“Never mind,” Dex grumbled, “We need to be quick about this so we can search for the rebirth.” Dex walked back to the elevator expecting the others to follow him.
Zeke cleared his voice then leaned in close. “Dex wants to purge the doctor first.” He mumbled so Dex wouldn’t hear. “We’re holding him up stairs in the purging chamber already.”
“Dex is going to kill him already?”
“Dex is going to purge him already, yes. I tried to convince him to interrogate the doctor first but he’s set on purging right now.” Zeke went back to the elevator nodding for Air to follow.
Dex had strapped himself into the harness and was ascending the elevator shaft to the purging floor. Zeke tip-toed around the scattered puddles of Helix and waited for his turn to climb the shaft.
“The rebirth,” Air started, “they’re infants.”
“Weird huh? I forgot this was your first cleaning. You’d never thought you’d see an infant again, did you? The good news is they’re so loud. Should be easy to find them.” The harness dropped back down and Zeke reached for it. He stepped into the straps and called up to Andre to pull him up. Air took his turn reluctantly. He didn’t want to help Dex anymore. But he couldn’t trust Fields after he left him to be caught by the purgers.
---
Four purgers gathered around Fields, who lay wheezing on the floor. They scuffled around him and kicked into his face and stomach. They taunted him and spit on him. His arms wrapped around his face for protection. They laughed as he winced at each blow. It was all a big game to them.
“Enough!” Dex walked in from the darkness pushing the rifle cart. “Chain him and pick a tool.”
Air rushed over to where Fields lay. A purger crouched to shackle his ankles. Air stood speechless. Why? Fields looked up at Air and attempted a smile with his mouth split wide-open. His wrinkled face bulged and tightened from swelling. The bruises already filling the skin around is eyes. He coughed and spit out a tooth, wheezing with each painful breath. They lifted him and pulled him back to the marred brick wall and attached the shackles to the eye-ring. Fields looked back at Air. Peace. He was ready to die for his cause. In that moment, Air understood. Fields wasn’t leaving Air to die, he was sacrificing himself to give the others time to escape. He put Air to sleep so he could remain innocent in the cities eyes. Air could go on with his life as a purger. He could have his city life back or he could make a stand. Air breathed in deeply. He made his decision.
He rushed to the cart where Andre and Zeke stood studying the rifles. Air pushed Zeke aside. He lifted a rifle and pushed the bolt open to find and empty chamber. He immediately dropped the rifle to the ground and picked up a new one.
Andre grunted, “What are you doing?”
Air dropped the second rifle to the ground and began checking each of the rifles to find the loaded one.
“Hey!” Zeke pulled at the barrel.
Air pulled back on the unloaded rifle. Zeke let go for only a second and Air swung the butt against his head. The impact was enough to cave his skull in. Zeke dropped, hitting his head on the ground. Andre yelled and grabbed at the rifle. Air let go, sending Andre back a few steps from the momentum. Air took another rifle from the cart, before Andre could react, and pushed open the bolt. Empty. Andre swung the butt of the rifle like an axe. Air kicked the cart sending it into Andre’s shins. Andre’s blow hit the cart with a jolting crash. This seemed to be the moment that all the purgers decided Air had lost his mind. Air kicked at the cart again knocking Andre to the floor. The unchecked rifles toppled onto the floor and Air frantically grabbed for one. The other purgers were shouting and running to stop Air.
“He’s lost it!” One of them yelled. It was all a blur.
Air checked two more rifles before he found the loaded weapon. He pointed it at the approaching purgers. They immediately dropped to the ground shielding their heads. Air pulled the keys from Zeke’s hand and ran around to release Fields
A gunshot boomed from behind and the bullet pounded into Fields side. His body squirmed and his feet gave out.
“Fields!” Air stopped and turned to see Dex pointing a hand-gun. Air lifted his rifle, aimed for Dex’s heart and pulled the trigger. He would have hit his target if Indigo hadn’t tried to tackle him. The bullet grazed across Dex’s shoulder. His arms flung and he fired two more shots into the blackness.
Air rolled Indigo onto his back and punched him hard in the nose. He yelped and blood splattered back at Air’s face.
“Air…” Fields spat blood as he spoke. “Break it…” Fields’ eyes rolled back into his head and he sunk to the floor.
The feeling of guilt and pain returned. Air remembered the feeling when his wife died. He wanted to grieve, but footsteps scuffed along the floor behind him. Air had to fight.
Andre charged at Air with a knife. He must have thought Air was no longer a danger because he had fired his only shot.
Air slapped Andre’s wrist to deflect the blade aside. With one step he lunged forward and stepped down hard against the inside of Andre’s left knee. His leg folded-over sideways almost like it was made to. A hideous snapping sound preceded his shrill agony. Air didn’t wait to see him drop so he ran straight to the elevator and ignored everyone else.
Dex sat up and fired another shot at Air. The bullet skimmed across the back of Air’s right triceps but missed everything else. Air skidded on the dusty floor just in front of the elevator. He took hold of the harness as his momentum sent him feet first into the shaft. The harness whipped under his weight. He banged his knee into the shaft wall. Don’t stop now. He stepped onto a rail framing the shaft.
“It’s over Air!” Dex screamed. He was much closer than Air had thought he could be.
Air shimmied to the corner and climbed down the rail framing as fast as he could. Dex groaned from above. Air still had double his height to climb down. He jumped just as Dex fired another shot. The bullet sparked as it ricocheted off the stone wall. Air hit the top of the elevator and slid into the hatch at the top. A bullet burst through the grated steel and lodged into the tiled elevator floor right in front of Air.
Air ran through the steel-plated door and the cleaning chamber. His heart sunk as he ran past Napal’s body. He didn’t bother to fight the guilt. His feet thumped on the hard ground and he darted into the darkness. The tunnel rose at a steady incline. Would Dex be waiting at the other end? He limped as the adrenaline started to wear off. He took a mental inventory of his injuries, considering them all minor in light of his situation. His real worry was that he had no weapon, and, at this point, the entire city wanted him dead.
Air almost ran into a set of corroding doors. It was too dark to see much of anything. He pushed through the doors and walked up a spiral staircase. He clenched his knee for support as he climbed the stairs. A swinging door sat at the top. Air pushed through. A pair of nurses stood sanitizing medical tools.
A nurse gasped. “What’s going on?”
“I need bandages,” Air said, unrolling his palm to present the gash. He started pulling open drawers with his good hand. He needed to be fast.
A nurse side-stepped toward the door. “I’ll get help,” she choked on emotion.
“No you won’t. Stay right there.” Air tore open a cellophane package with his teeth and started wrappin
g the white bandage around his hand.
The nurse ran out the door and shrieked. She must have seen him in the news. Air wadded the bandage in his fist and limped out into the hallway. A screen, fastened high on a wall, displayed Air’s face. Get out, fast. He hobbled down the hall. A doctor dropped his clipboard and stared at Air, then the screen.
“Hey! Stop!” The doctor shuffled into Air’s path.
Air struck him left-handed in the diaphragm. The doctor doubled over. Air passed. He turned the corner. Hospital workers stumbled over each other to duck into doors. There was an exit sign down the hall. Air jogged down the long hallway toward glass doors. He stumbled outside and gained his bearings. He took a hard step and his knee tensed-up. He dragged his throbbing leg to the north side of the hospital. An ominous siren filled the city sky. It echoed along the corridor streets. Its moans peaked and dipped in long, steady draws. Along with the siren came the realization that his problems were too big to control. He reached for his forehead. The pain surged. A strange impression filled his mind. He rubbed his brow hoping to wipe away the certainty. Not dead yet, he thought to himself. He stopped at the edge of the street then gimped along the sidewalk, west, the direction of the library and hopefully the babies.
A transport past by, then swerved around. Someone had seen him. The door hissed a stream of compressed air and opened.
“Get in!” Ganton waved.
Air climbed in and collapsed in the aisle. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“I’ve been circling the area for an hour now.” Ganton shut the door and turned the wheel. “Good thing you showed up when you did. I was about to take Fenton’s advice and leave you behind.”
“Fields is dead.” Air sucked in a breath.
Ganton sped up, westbound. “He said that might happen.”
“Where are the infants?”
“Elena and Anna-Desi are hiding them in the library.”
“That won’t work. The Founder knows where they are.” Air pulled himself up onto a bench.
Ganton sat thinking. It was a lot to digest.
“We have to get them out of the city! There isn’t any other option!”
Chapter 23
Panic-stricken residents poured into the streets. The media didn’t waste any time. The radio announced Air’s crimes and gave a thorough description of both him and the infants. With all the drama possible, the media leveraged any hope of survival on the capture of the infants.
People combed the streets looking for the rebirth. Heavy crowds churned making it impossible to take the transport any closer to the library. Ganton stopped in the street a few blocks away.
“How are we supposed to get in without everyone seeing you?” Ganton cranked his head back from the driver seat.
Air looked across the street. Office buildings populated the area. Thousands of angry and frightened faces all looking for Air. “You go on, I’ll draw them away.”
“You can’t leave us now, Air.”
“Sure I can.”
“We still need you.”
“Everyone is looking for me, and they’re expecting to find the babies with me. It’s best if we split up.”
Ganton glanced out the windshield. “They’re stuck in the library, Air. If they leave with the babies, they’ll get caught before they make it down the steps, but if they stay, it’s only a matter of time before they search the building. We need your help.”
Air looked down at the fresh bandage around his hand. Blood started to seep through. “Alright,” He said.
“Alright, you’ll help?”
“Do you know where we can get some alcohol around here?”
“Seriously?” Ganton shot back, “Come on, Air.”
Air leaned forward and looked out the window at the growing hoard. “It’s going to be impossible to get through the crowd without being spotted. So, let’s assume they’ve already spotted me.”
“I don’t see how this is helping.”
“Worst case situation, we have to fight our way in. Do you have a gun on you?”
Ganton lifted an eyebrow. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“So now what?”
“I need some alcohol. We can make cocktails.” Air paused as the word surfaced in his memory,” a Molotov cocktail.”
“Huh?” Ganton looked back, confused.
“If you want my help, this is all I can offer.”
“Okay,” Ganton submitted.
“Is there a bar or a casino around?” Air nodded and flung his arms out.
“Hold-on.” Ganton cranked the transport into reverse. A muffled shout went by. He almost hit a collection of angry residents, so they yelled and banged their fists on the vehicle as it went by. Ganton jerked the rear end of the transport around the block and stopped. “There is a restaurant at the other end of the alley.”
Air stood up, holding the seat for support as he fought to straiten his swelling knee. “Follow me,” he grumbled.
The sirens blared in their ears as they hurried down the alley. Ganton turned around the outside of the alley and went into the restaurant. Patrons hardly noticed Ganton and Air. They were all fixed on the screen. Ganton stopped at a table and looked back for direction. The media explained the importance of the rebirth. A waiter stood by the preparation area in shock. His eyes glazed over as the media reinforced all his worst fears. Air walked past and found a variety of bottles.
“We’d better hurry,” Ganton whispered.
“Find me something to make it thicker. Tar would be best, but I’ll settle for powdered soap or sugar.” Air popped a cork off a bottle of Everclear.
Ganton opened two cupboards before the waiter noticed.
“I’m sorry, but you two really can’t be back here.” The waiter sneered.
“We’re just getting something to drink,” Ganton smiled.
“That’s not how it works. If you want a drink, you’ll have to order just like everyone else.”
“We’re all going to die and you’re worried about following the rules?” Air twisted another cork until it popped. Air dumped a healthy amount into his wounded hand. He gritted his teeth at sucked in air as the alcohol burned.
“Come on…” The waiter stepped forward then stopped and looked at Air. “You’re that guy… from the news!”
“Get out!” Ganton stomped at the waiter.
The waiter flinched back. He lost his footing on the corner of the bar. He turned and pushed between two patrons and ran out the door letting the sirens flood in.
“Excuse me,” Ganton projected his voice through the restaurant, “I’m going to have to ask you all to evacuate the building. It has been brought to my attention that it would be safer outside.”
They looked back at Ganton in disbelief. A woman burst out crying and went out. The others stood up and grumbled to each other.
“I said, get out!” Ganton stepped out into the dining room and kicked a chair down. His grey driving uniform must have made him look official enough because they all filed out of the restaurant unsure what to make of Ganton’s outburst.
Ganton tore open a bag of sugar and dropped it next to Air. Six bottles stood in array each roughly two-thirds full. Air scooped handfuls of sugar and sifted it into the bottles. Enough sugar to nearly fill the bottles.
“I need cloth.” Air bobbed his head up from a concoction.
Ganton went back out to the dining room and pulled a white table cloth off a table, knocking off the empty glasses. He ran back to where Air was sitting. “Is this okay?” he said.
“Tear off six strips about this long.” Air measured a distance in space with his hands.
Ganton used his teeth to start the tears. He tossed each strip on the floor after he it ripped free. “What’s next?”
“Find a lighter.” Air leaned to reach the pile of fabric.
Air stuffed each strip into a bottle as deep as he could to soak the cloth. He arranged a strip so half was dangling out the top of the bott
le and he pushed the cork in to hold it in place. When Ganton found a lighter by the stove he ran back to Air.
“We’re ready.” Air wiped his hands on his shirt.
They each took three bottles and hurried out the door. The alleyway had become more crowded. The clutter of voices seemed to drown out the sirens. Fear in their faces. He couldn’t help imagine them all lying dead. He knew he would be responsible for all of their deaths but he felt at peace about it all. It was a strange feeling. Somewhere in his mind, he knew she would be proud of him. Finally, he felt right.
“There’s the library,” said Ganton, “Now what?”
People were starting to look closer at Air. A man pointed a finger.
Air handed two of his bottles to Ganton. Air shook the remaining bottle with vigor and lit the wick with the lighter. Blue flames licked over the white cloth. He spotted a target. A stone block high up the library exterior. He hurled the flaming mixture. A thin stream of smoke traced the arced trajectory. The bottle shattered against the library. Flames sprayed from the impact. The sugar-laden alcohol clung to stone and the flames followed suit. The crowd gasped and flowed back from the library entrance.
“Hand me another.” Air reached a hand out to Ganton.
Ganton appeared stone-faced as he gave another bottle to Air. He lobbed the second bottle on top of the steps. Flames roared into a fireball. People scrambled from the library. A man reached to stop Air’s hand from lighting a third wick.
“Stop!” The man yelled.
Air shoved back at him and lit the bottle. He hurled it against the sidewalk a few yards away. People cleared around them. They ran to the base of the library steps and lit off another bottle. This time they tossed it across the street. It broke off the corner of a building. Burning liquid dripped onto a resident starting his jacket on fire. Flailing, he removed his jacket and discarded it. At this point, people dove over one another and covered their heads. Some pushed away from the flames, shoving and trampling anyone in their way. It was the first act of war they had seen. It was enough to bring back memories for the majority of them.