by M. R. Forbes
“It’s not a good idea to provoke him,” Ghost whispered as soon as they were back in the hallway.
“I don’t know if you noticed,” Natalia replied softly. “But he’s fucking crazy. You could have killed him. Maybe I’m wrong about you, but you seem a hell of a lot saner than he is.”
“That may be, but I’m not about to end his life.”
“Why not?”
“He’s my father.”
Natalia turned her head to look at Ghost. He didn’t look anything like King. “Are you sure?”
“He isn’t my biological father. Thirty years ago, he was a nomad, like many people still are. Even then, he was different. He didn’t run from the trife. He fought them. He killed them by the hundreds. I don’t know how. I’ve never seen anything like it. That was how he found me. The trife came after my family. They killed my parents and had me cornered against a tree. He came from nowhere, carrying a heavy ax. He cut them down, one after another, and when they were all dead, he held out his hand to me. I took it, and I haven’t questioned him since.”
“Maybe you should start?”
“I’m not as quick to anger as King, but don’t test me, Natalia. He’s a hard man, and he can be cruel. But he does hate the trife, and he does want to see them destroyed.”
“What about the people he’s destroying in the meantime?”
“The trife have killed billions over the years. It’s a fraction in comparison.”
“And that makes it right?”
“It makes it the way it has always been.”
“I’ve always hated that answer, no matter what context it’s used in.”
Ghost cracked a small smile. “I admire your compassion, Natalia. Help King get into the complex, and maybe he’ll grant you a favor.”
“What is this complex?”
“A former Space Force facility. We dug the rubble out of a garage and discovered a door, not unlike the hatch on the Pilgrim. It wasn’t locked. It may have been scavenged at some point in the past because there was no equipment inside. Nothing except a large, inoperable mainframe. It’s too big to move. Big enough that King is convinced there’s valuable data stored on it.”
“What kind of data?”
“That’s what we want to find out.”
“But you don’t want me to go there?”
“The trife occupy the area in large numbers, and they move through the city often. It isn’t safe enough for anyone to settle there. It took nearly four hundred Scrappers just to reach the complex and hold it long enough to dig it out.”
“What about the goliaths? You said they go wherever the trife are to feed.”
“They don’t walk there. I don’t know why.”
“Your father sent you with me like he was sending you to pick up a food ration. Doesn’t he care that you might die?”
“No.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
“I should have been dead a long time ago. He gave me years I wouldn’t have had otherwise. Besides, I want to go.”
“Why? Because you want to screw me?” She shuddered at the words and the meaning of them. “You have the power to take what you want.”
“I’m not that kind of man. I care what happens to you.”
“You hardly know me.”
“I admire the strength of your spirit.”
“My husband was the strength of my spirit, and you took me from him and left him for dead. Now that strength comes from my desire to kill your father. I don’t know if you want to admire that.”
“Regardless, I do.”
“Enough to help me make good on it?”
He didn’t respond, signaling the end of the conversation. They returned to the lift, entering and taking it back down.
“Can I ask you one thing?” Natalia said.
“I won’t help you kill my father.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask you. King claims he’s a living god. Do you believe it?”
Ghost glanced over at her, a strange look on his face. He was silent until the lift had reached its destination.
“It will take a few hours to assemble the soldiers for the trip to Ports,” he said. “You’ll be left under guard until we’re ready to go. I’ll have proper attire delivered to you. Is there anything else you need?”
“Yes. If I’m supposed to fix a mainframe, I’m going to need tools.”
“I’ll show you to our supply room before we leave, and you can select what you require.”
“What if you don’t have it?”
“That isn’t likely.”
He motioned with his fingers, and the guards at the door hurried over.
“This is Natalia Duke. She’s an Engineer. King wants her brought to the complex in Ports. Put her in one of the guest rooms and make sure she stays there. Provide her with anything she needs. If any part of her is disturbed, you’ll be held responsible, and the outcome will be painful.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the soldiers said. “This way, ma’am.”
They both pointed her toward the lift. Before they could move, Ghost reached out and took her arm, leaning in close and whispering in her ear.
“My father is a god, Natalia. The Scrappers believe it. I believe it. Why wouldn’t I? I’m a god, too.”
Then he let her loose, heading off to arrange the expedition to the complex. Natalia was frozen in place, left shivering as she watched him go.
15
HAYDEN WAS PRETTY sure Wiz hadn’t expected a door to keep him contained, not when she had recognized Hank’s mechanical arm attached to his body, and not if she knew its capabilities.
The proprietor of Crossroads was counting on two things. One, that he wouldn’t be stupid or desperate enough to try to escape at night when the world beyond the cold cement walls of the safe house was crawling with trife. Two, that her armed and armored guards would be sufficient to handle him, just in case he did.
Which might have been true if he had been alone. Wiz’s mistake was that she had seen Chains as a uniquely pretty face, and instead of keeping them separate had decided to put them together.
“Are you ready?” Hayden asked, gripping the handle of the door with the mechanical hand.
“Let’s party,” Chains replied.
He squeezed the handle and pulled, ripping it, and the lock, right through the wood of the door, at the same time kicking it open with his foot.
There were two guards outside of their room, and they spun around at the first sound, halfway through their turn when Chains emerged, jumping and throwing a metal-wrapped fist into the first soldier’s throat. Hayden could hear the wet thunk of the damage she caused as her body hit the guard, pushing him back.
The other guard already had a metal baton in his hand, and he swung it toward Chains’ back, the thin rod whistling through the air on its approach.
Hayden reached out with the mechanical hand, putting it between Chains and the weapon and catching the brunt of the force. The baton clanged off the arm, leaving a slight dent in it. Hayden kept charging, throwing a punch into the armor and coming away with nothing more than pain.
It was a slight distraction, but it was enough. Chains had already reversed course, moving around Hayden and throwing her fist up and in at the guard’s abdomen, taking an angle that found a soft spot in the armor, the metal cracking against bone. The guard grunted, swinging the baton again, and again finding it blocked.
Hayden threw his entire body weight into the man, shoving him back against the wall. They both bounced off and fell to the floor, with Hayden on top. He drew back the arm and threw it at the guard’s faceplate, hitting it so hard it cracked and splintered, nearly puncturing the reinforced glass and making it to the man’s face. He raised his hand to throw another punch when a familiar click brought him to an immediate stop.
“Don’t move!” Sally shouted.
He looked up. She was standing at the end of the hallway, rifle trained on him. Chains was a few steps down the corridor, but sh
e had frozen when the guard appeared.
“Wiz might have let you go after you brought her to your ship,” Sally said. “There’s no way that’s happening now.”
Hayden shifted his eyes to the guard beneath him, stunned and motionless. His rifle was on his back, all he had to do was grab it, aim, and shoot before Sally could put a bullet in him.
Was that all?
“Put your hands up!” Sally ordered, taking a few steps closer. “Both of you!”
Hayden complied. So did Chains.
Sally tilted her head slightly, talking softly into her transceiver. Calling for backup. That’s what he would have done.
“Neither of you move,” she repeated, coming to a stop.
Hayden stared at the woman. He couldn’t let Wiz slow him down. It would take days to get back to the Pilgrim, and then what? She would spend days more trying to get in, and he already knew she wouldn’t be able to. And then he would be stuck, the same way Natalia was stuck.
He had to risk it.
His hands dropped at the same time he rolled to the left, hoping Sally wouldn’t track him that well. He reached for the rifle with his human hand, sliding it under the downed guard’s back and grasping for the top of it. His grab missed, his fingers sliding off the edge but not getting a firm hold.
He clenched his eyes as he realized he was about to die.
The bullets never came. Not a single one. His head snapped up to find Sally, prepared to make another desperate attempt to grab the gun.
She was already on the ground. Jake was standing behind her, a baton in his hand.
“It was a good try,” Chains said, looking back at him. “You get points for the effort.”
“What are you doing here?” Hayden asked. He leaned over the guard, pushing his body sideways and taking the rifle. He found a pair of magazines attached to the armor.
“Trying to rescue you,” Jake said. “I thought it would be easier to get you out at night.”
“You’re both crazy,” Chains said. “In a good way.”
“Grab their rifles,” Hayden said. “We need to get to the armory.”
“Does Wiz know you’re out?” Jake asked.
“Yeah.”
“Damn. We need to get to the stairs before-”
The stairwell door slammed open. Jake dove around the corner as the bullets started hitting the wall where he had been standing.
“Shit,” he cried, pressing himself against the wall. He was fortunate the outer walls were all made of concrete, or he might have caught a bullet right through them.
Hayden ran to the corner, leaning the muzzle of the rifle out and firing a few rounds to keep the guards honest. Chains joined them there, having retrieved the other guard’s weapon.
“I told you this wasn’t going to work,” she said. “I wasn’t planning on dying when I took the damned job this morning.”
The gunfire stopped.
“Come out with your hands up,” one of the guards ordered sternly. “There’s nowhere for you to go.”
Hayden looked back down the corridor. The guard was right. There was only the one stairwell leading to the floor, and they hadn’t reached it before backup arrived.
“What do you think, Sheriff?” Jake asked.
“I’m not ready to die yet, either,” Hayden said. “I’m also not ready to surrender.”
“Is there a third option?” Chains asked.
Hayden looked back at the downed guards. “I have an idea. Jake, Chains, get those guards out of their armor. I’ll keep them honest.”
They didn’t question him, getting up and rushing to the unconscious guards. Hayden leaned out from the corner, taking a few random shots before ducking his head back. These guards were wearing Marine body armor, too. Where had Wiz gotten it?
“How do I open it?” Jake asked.
“There’s a main clasp at the top, with a pull. Near the neck. You have to take the helmet off, first.”
“Pozz,” Jake said.
Hayden fired back at the guards a few more times, in short, four round bursts. It was enough to keep them near the stairwell instead of advancing on the corridor.
“Got it,” Jake said. “Now what?”
“Put it on,” Hayden replied.
“What?”
“I don’t think it will fit over the arm,” he said. “So you need to put it on. It’s too big for Chains.”
“And then what?” Jake asked.
“I’ll tell you once you have it on. Grab the helmet, too.”
It didn’t take long for Jake to get into the armor. He approached Hayden in it, wearing the helmet. Hayden could see the kid’s eyes through the faceplate. He was scared. For good reason.
“What do you see in the helmet?” Hayden asked.
“What do you mean?”
Hayden remembered trying the helmet on the Pilgrim, and how it seemed to have networking capabilities. They were all offline on the ship, but if Wiz were the kind of person he thought she was, that wouldn’t be the case here.
“An image on the glass in front of your eyes. A targeting reticle. Anything?”
“No.”
“Turn around.”
Jake put his back to Hayden. The interface between the helmet and the pack on the back of the armor was disconnected. He grabbed it and plugged it in.
“Oh,” Jake said a second later. “That’s what you meant.”
“What do you see?”
“Bodies, even through the wall. You and Chains, and the four guards near the stairs.”
“How good of a shot are you?”
“I don’t know. Decent.”
“If I tell you there’s a weak point in the armor where the helmet meets the neck, right here.” He put his hand on the spot at Jake’s neck. “Do you think you can hit it?”
“I don’t know, Sheriff. I’m out of my element here.”
“Do you want to help me, or do you want to let Wiz take me?”
He groaned inside the helmet. “I thought I would nurse you back to health and you would be gone from our lives. I didn’t expect I would wind up in a weird suit of armor about to try to kill four men who I’ve known for years. I know their names, Sheriff. They’re not bad people. They’re just doing their job.”
“I know,” Hayden said. “I understand if you can’t do it. But I can’t do what Wiz wants me to do. Especially if I’m wrong and she does get Inside. I can’t let her do that to the people of Metro. They need to stay safe in their ignorance, at least for now.”
Jake looked at him through the helmet. Hayden could see how conflicted he was. How frightened. He was a Borger, an engineer of sorts. He wasn’t a Sheriff. He wasn’t a soldier.
“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” Jake said, lowering his rifle. “I can’t.”
“It’s okay, Jake,” Hayden replied, putting his mechanical hand on the back of the armor. “I can.”
He gave Jake a shove, pushing him out into the junction between the corridors.
16
THE BULLETS STARTED COMING the moment Jake appeared in the hallway, even though he was stumbling and holding his arm out to brace himself against the wall.
Hayden hated to do it, but he was fairly sure the guards weren’t great shots, especially with the somewhat rare and valuable rifles. They didn’t have extra ammo to waste on target practice and likely carried the weapons more for show than for actual use. He knew from experience the armor could absorb most bullets, and he didn’t intend to let them keep shooting for long.
He leaned out from the corner, following the targeting reticle on the rifle’s display. He didn’t try to aim too precisely, instead unleashing a heavy barrage at the upper quadrant of the first guard he saw, watching as most of the bullets hit the armor and stopped.
Most, but not all. One of them caught the area between helmet and neck, and a spray of blood and the falling guard told him he had gotten a clean hit. He didn’t hesitate, moving to the next one, counting the passing of time with his rapid heartbeats. The f
irst one had taken three.
He fired again, a stream of thirty rounds before the magazine clicked empty.
A second guard fell.
He drew back behind the wall to replace the magazine, finding that Chains was standing over him, continuing the barrage. Jake had recovered from the push and was trying to get back behind cover. There were dark marks all over the softer part of the armor, and scuffs on the heavier plates. Hayden didn’t see any blood, but he was sure the kid was feeling the sting of the impacts.
He pressed a fresh magazine into the rifle, standing as the return volley suddenly stopped, the guards running out of ammunition. He broke down the corridor toward them, firing single rounds as he approached, watching them nervously trying to reload. They had probably never done it before.
He reached them while they were still pulling the magazines from the spaces on their armor. They lowered their rifles, trying to grab the batons attached to their hips. He didn’t give them the chance, using the rifle to smack their arms away, driving into them and knocking them back into the stairwell. They hit the edge of the steps and lost their balance, falling to the second floor, the impact leaving them rattled.
“Let’s go,” Hayden shouted, looking back at Chains and Jake.
Chains was already on her way, but Jake was standing there, still confused about what had happened.
“Jake!” Hayden said. “Come on!”
He couldn’t wait for him. He started up the stairs, with Chains right behind him. They made it to the third floor, bursting into the open space. Thankfully, Wiz wasn’t there, and neither were any more of the guards.
Hayden ran to the area where Wiz had shown him the weapons. He wasn’t surprised to find the laser pistol wasn’t there.
“Chains, check the cameras,” he said.
“On it,” she replied, retreating to the displays. “Oh shit, Sheriff. We have a problem.”
“What is it?” he asked.
She didn’t have to answer. He heard it a moment later. A high-pitched whine from the south side of the building.
The auto-turrets.
“Grepping trife,” she said. “A lot of them. Of all the shitty luck.”