City of Steam (Blackburn Chronicles)

by Dominic K Alexander

  With a quick shift, Walter picked Mac up, carried her to the bedroom, and laid her down on the bed. It swallowed her like a giant marshmallow and as her eyes closed, the new world she was stuck in faded away.

  Mac woke to Walter laying out a new set of clothing for her. Light flickered from the gentle glow of the candles around the room.

  "It’s time to get you out of here. I hope you got a good sleep because it may well be the last for some time." Walter said. "I acquired a new uniform for you. It's the best I could do with such short notice." Mac sat up and looked at the foreign clothing set in front of her. There was a mish-mash of leather and metal she simply didn't understand. She looked from the clothing to Walter, then back again.

  "Ahh, never seen an assassins uniform before, huh? There isn’t much to it once you discover all the gadgets and gizmos attached to them. It is more of a suit of armor than a set of clothing, but it’s the only way we are going to be able to sneak you out of here."

  Walter reached into the pile and grabbed a cloth garment then threw it at her. "Layer one." She snatched the cotton undergarment from the air and looked at it shaking her head slightly. "Don't be spoiled, Mac. This outfit cost more than most people in this city make in a decade. Hurry with that and I will help with the rest."

  Walter was right. Once the pile was separated, the outfit was as easy to put on as a Halloween costume. Everything was held together with brass clasps or leather straps. By the time they were finished, Mac just grinned at Walter.

  "What's so funny?"

  "I feel like Boba Fett." Mac replied still grinning. "There are so many different gadgets." She started opening and closing the pockets and playing with the buttons. A grappling hook shot from her wrist barely missing Walter as he watched amused.

  "I prefer the westerns over the space movies, Mac." Walter said. "Now if you could be careful, wouldn't want to put an eye out, or worse, blow us all up." He motioned to a button on the other arm.

  "Wait, how do you know about movies. This place doesn't even have an electrical grid."

  "Steam city may not, but it's a big world, Mac. Ya may want to remember that. As far as movies goes, towns pay a lot of money to get movies from your world. Though not much of that happens anymore. Times are tough all over the world, and I am not convinced anything better is on the horizon."

  Mac looked at Walter and could see he was hiding a pain deep within. She wanted to inquire, but his hardened face warned against it. She couldn't help but wonder if his help was conditional to her not pissing him off. So, she looked at the remaining pieces of her uniform on the bed. "What about that stuff?”

  "It's how we are going to walk you out the front door without being noticed." Walter picked up the helmet and placed it over her head. The face looked like a picture Mac had once seen of people working around plague patients in the in the dark ages. The long raven’s beak nose and hollow eyes would put fear into some of the bravest of men. As Walter hooked up some of the tubes to it there was a force of air and Mac could easily breathe. "This will filter some of the toxins in the air, though I am not sure your body doesn't do that all on its own, and it also uses enhanced sight and hearing gadgetry. You should be able to survive anything coming for you."

  Walter stepped back and looked Mac up and down. She could see a small smile on his face. He turned, opened a drawer, pulled something from it, and paused just looking at the objects saying nothing. Mac heard him take several long breaths before turning and holding out a belt laced with bullets and two six shooters, one in each holster. He reached around Mac and wrapped the belt around her pulling it tight. The belt fit as perfect as if it had been made for her. "Treat these well, kid." Before Mac could respond Walter turned and left the room. Mac gave him the time he so obviously needed and she easily pulled the pistols from their home and examined them. They were beautiful; lined in brass and ivory. Someone had taken great care in crafting this set. Mac slid them back into the holster as Walter stepped back into the room.

  "Time to go." He said. "You may want to make peace with any higher power you believe in because if this doesn't go well we are both as good as dead." Mac stood tall and patted down her new armor to make sure everything was closed. The grappling hook shot across the room for the second time leaving Mac wide eyed. Walter just stared shaking his head.

  13.

  The halls were quiet compared to the previous hours. Mac breathed heavily with trepidation. She couldn't help but think something or someone was just going to jump out and attack her at any moment, but nothing came. Then, as they were about to enter the hall leading out the front door the dukes voice came loud and clear from behind them.

  "Any progress, Walter?" The duke said freezing both Mac and Walter where they stood. As they turned to face him, Mac noticed him looking her up and down with curiosity.

  "Not yet, but we just started searching the outside perimeter and the lower floors. I am certain she is close. It's only a matter of time before we find her." The duke paid no attention to his words.

  "And, who is this?" He squinted his eyes while examining the new assassin.

  "This is the assassin I chose to take care of what we talked about earlier."

  "Ahh, yes. Then let me not keep you from the task at hand." The duke responded losing interest in Mac. He turned to walk away before stopping again. “Walter, I would find our girl soon before my losses become yours."

  Walter swallowed hard and gripped his pistol tight staring at the duke as he walked away. Mac placed her hand over his and shook her head as he stared from the duke to her and back. After several seconds, an eternity to a gunslinger, Walter released his pistol and turned moving quickly away from his new target.

  Mac had to run to keep up with him. "What is this thing you picked me to help the duke with?"

  "You are going into the Underbelly, and I need you to kill someone."

  "Walter, no! I'm not a murderer." Walter spun and grabbed Mack tightly by the arm.

  "I am saving your life and this is the price for my help." Walter stared through the mask and into her eyes. His breathing was hard and his grip was going to leave bruises. "Your choice is a quick and simple one. You kill the man in the Underbelly, or I turn you over to the duke. Make your choice." Mac Just stared and he shook her squeezing even harder. "Make. Your. Choice." He said through gritted teeth.

  She cringed and placed her hand over his. The grip lessened enough for Mac to remove her arm from him. She said nothing and started walking in the direction he had been headed. Walter walked next to her and took the lead again.

  "Who is this person you need me to kill for you?"

  "For the duke."

  "If that's the case then I am not going to do it. If this is my payment to you, then this is on you, so I say again, who is this person you need me to kill for you?"

  Walter walked saying nothing for a moment. Mac could tell the words stung and he likely didn't want her to kill anyone, but it was obvious the choice was every bit as much out of his hands as it was out of hers. "Have you been in the Underbelly tunnels before?"

  "Once." She started to explain her venture through the tunnel and he cut her off and handed her a map.

  "There is an aristocrat that is doing some black-market business in the north quarter of the underbelly that the duke is not happy about. I need you to kill him. He travels alone, so you should have no issue taking care of him. He generally carries a large sack of coin and I recommend you take it once the job is done." Walter opened a door and they made their way outside. The grounds were heavily guarded and Walter ignored the assassins looking in the outside buildings, brush, and any other hiding spots they could think of. Mac couldn't help but smile knowing she was walking past them while they were all looking for her.

  As they reached a large outside gate two guards opened the doors and let them through without question. The amount of machinery protecting the wall sent a shiver up Mac's spine. These things would kill her without a second thought. She wanted nothing
more than to be as far away from them as possible. She picked up her pace slightly and Walter put his hand on her shoulder slowing her down.

  "You made it this far. Don't blow it now by becoming over eager." Mac slowed and started following Walter's lead again. Within minutes they were inside a small garage not far from the duke’s palace. The building looked old and everything inside was dusted over and rusty.

  "What are we doing here?" Mac said.

  Walter pushed a large shelving unit away from the wall revealing the door to the Underbelly. "This is where you will make your escape." He pushed open the door and ushered her down the hall and into the main tunnel. As she stepped past him he pushed a button on her arm and several tubes on the armor began to glow a dull red. It allowed her to see several feet in front of her without a blinding white light disturbing everything around that was hiding in the shadows. Walter took the map and pointed to a point on the north end of the Underbelly. "He has a small hideout here. Just walk in and shoot. It's that simple."

  "Killing a person is never simple." Mac's breathing was tight, from her nerves, as the words came out.

  "Actually, killing a man is as simple as squeezing a trigger. Your mind is all that complicates it."

  "It's my mind that suffers for it; and my heart."

  "It is what's required for your freedom. After you have completed the task, the exit of the Underbelly is here and your town is out here. As delightful as it has been, I hope to never see you again." Walter pointed to some the exit and her kill on the map, then turned and left.

  Mac watched him leave her alone before looking at the map and plotting her course to the target. She looked at the path to the exit and realized she could simply run and no one would be the wiser. Then she thought about Walters reaction to the duke. There was something forcing him to have her kill the aristocrat. If she failed, then something bad was likely going to happen to the one person in the city who was willing to protect her. She replotted the way to the aristocrat again and put the map away before heading to his den.

  Mac held a pistol in hand as Wiley had when they made their way through the tunnels the first time. As she passed, people scurried from her like cockroaches. The assassins garb was obviously all she needed to keep the danger down here at bay. The closer she got to the her target the quieter and more abandoned the area was. Then a tunnel cut to the right and a faint orange glow illuminated the end. Mac turned off the lights on her armor and slowly crept down the tunnel arm outstretched with shaking gun in hand.

  Her mind raced with every scenario possible. What if there is someone with him? A customer, or a guard of some sort. What if he is armed and waiting for me? What if he hears me coming? What if it's the wrong person, or he isn't in his den? Mac's hart beat fast and her breathing was hard. The end of the tunnel was in sight and cut left at the end.

  As Mac turned the corner she saw the aristocrat sitting in a chair reading some papers and paying no attention to the assassin who was coming for him. As she moved closer to the opening into the room he looked up and gave her a one up and down before looking back to his paper.

  "I heard the duke was sending someone for me." The aristocrat said. "Simple man, he is."

  Mac aimed at the man’s head and slowly moved closer to the inside of the room while her thoughts screamed at her to run and not murder him. The gun shook even more.

  As she entered the room someone reached out from her right and grabbed her arm triggering the grappling hook. It shot through the air as it had before, only this time speared the aristocrat directly through the forehead. He stared blankly at them before falling to the floor.

  Mac looked at her attacher who was staring at his grip on the button of her armor.

  "Thank you." She said smiling at the beast of a man before her. He was the size of a Pepsi machine and in less than a second his face hardened turning red and he let out a roar, and threw her like she was weightless. As he released her arm, the grappling hook dislodged from the man on the floor and she hit the wall sideways dropping like a sack of potatoes, gun flying from her hand and away.

  The guard came at her again throwing the table to the side and rushed forward. Mac could barely tell what was happening before he already had ahold of her. He wrapped one hand on each side of her head squeezing with all his force. Mac grabbed his arms and tried pulling them off her. Her eyes felt as if they were about to pop out of the sockets. She flailed her feet before kicking him hard in the groin. The kick didn't even phase him. The stars from the pressure filled her eyes and she didn't even hear the pop from the gun. The guard dropped her and fell to the ground. Mac lay on the ground holding her head and waiting for the pain to stop. It took several seconds before her head started to feel almost normal.

  Walter looked down at her, gun in hand, still smoking. "Had a feeling you might need a hand." He spun his pistol once before holstering it, then held his hand out to her. Mac took his hand and stood up.

  "Why didn't you just come down here and kill him?" Mac frowned at him spitting out the words.

  "I was supposed to be searching for you. I heard a couple of the assassins talking about the aristocrat and figured he was tipped off. I came as fast as I could." Walter looked at the body of the aristocrat. "Looks like you can kill after all."

  "Actually, this brute grabbed my arm and the grappling hook went off catching him in the head." Walter looked at the dead aristocrat, then at the blood covered grappling hook, then let out a throaty laugh.

  "I swear, Mackenzie Blackburn, you certainly do have some sort of guardian angel watching over you. He laughed himself into tears looking at the man on the ground and pretending he had a grappling hook of his own to shoot at the target.

  "Not amused." Mac said finding her gun and starting to leave.

  "Hey, wait a minute." Walter said as he rummaged through the possessions of the aristocrat. He stood and tossed a sack of money into a pack not far from the bodies. He handed the pack to Mac and helped her strap it on. "You shouldn't just leave stuff laying around. This city is extremely poor, every bit of currency tradable counts." Mac just turned to leave still annoyed with his banter. Walter followed saying nothing. He took the lead and started towards the exit to the forest.

  "You never answered my question." Mac said after they had been walking for several minutes.

  "And what question is that?" Walter replied.

  "Why are you helping me? What benefit is there for you to care about my safety? You're obviously a mercenary, and a good one at that, so what would possess a person to help someone they don't even know?"

  "I am helping you because you don't belong here amongst the people who have been fighting a cause that has nothing to do with you."

  "Your boss seems to think I play a huge roll in this war."

  "My boss is the city, not the duke. It is the people who are suffering at the hands of the aristocrats that claim to run it. It is my hope that one day I will be able to bring this city back to its former days of glory. That one day someone will bring these animals down and help the ones that need helping. I am sorry to say, Mac, but you are not here to help the city. You being here only hurts it."

  "And how can I possibly hurt your city?" Mac felt her face redden and she steadied her breathing to calm herself.

  "What do you think will happen if you stay within the city walls?" Mac shrugged at Walters question. "Your friends will come looking for you and in turn bring the war back here. Who will suffer for it? The citizens, that's who. The people will be stripped of what little they have before being gunned down in the streets. Even if they aren't harboring thermas, the duke will slaughter them just to make some sort of fool’s point. That, Mac, is all on you." Mac spun around in front of him and punched him hard in the shoulder.

  "I am responsible for nothing that happens in this city. I was taken from my home and dropped into a forest. I was brought to a filthy city which I was more than glad to leave. I was sheltered and cared for by people who seemed to care about me. I found o
ut I had family here. Things were starting to not look so bad, but you know what happened from there? I was dragged back to the city. I was beaten and tortured. Why? Because I apparently play some role in your city's master plan. I couldn't care less about your city. I care about my city, my home, my world. At least back their people aren't trying to kill me." Mac spit at Walter's feet then turned and started to walk away from him. The walls vibrated around her. She wanted to see them give way and destroy everything above her. This city was nothing but a curse.

  Walter caught up to Mac and put his hand on her shoulder. She stopped and just looked ahead ignoring him.

  "I'm sorry." Walter said quietly. "There is a lot of pain in these old bones and I tend to unleash my wrath on some people who don't deserve it. With that said, I stand by what I said. You being here will do nothing but bring blood to these already burnt walls. I will be as glad to see you out of here as much as you will be glad to be gone from here."

  Mac started to move again, silent, thinking about what he had just told her. "So where will this path lead us?" Mac said after several minutes passed.

  "Out of the city." Walter replied.

  "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

  "You're welcome, but I am not in the military." He held up a hand silencing any retort she was about to say. "We're almost at the end of the tunnel." The passage ended abruptly and a long set of stairs spiraled to the upwards and was halted by a thick steel door. Walter reached into one of his pockets and retrieved a key from it. He slid the key into the lock, turned it, and a bolt released inside the door. With ease the door swung outward and the fresh forest air hit them. As they exited, the door swung shut slamming closed, and locked once again. Greenery had grown up and over the doorway hiding it from anyone who may pass by. There were also mounds where Mac was sure the guards had been posted not long before. A still smoking fire was a few feet from where they stood.