Steelheart r-1

by Brandon Sanderson

  The place had been looted long ago, though a lot of wares remained in the shops. Clothing that had been turned to steel wasn’t particularly useful.

  Megan wove easily through the mall’s open corridors, taking us up a frozen escalator onto the second floor. Engines echoed throughout the building as Enforcement cycles followed us in.

  Tia couldn’t guide us any longer, it appeared, but Megan seemed to have an idea of what she was doing. From the balcony above, I got a shot at the cycles following us. I hit the ground in front of them, taking a chunk out of the floor and causing several to skid out, the others scattering for cover. None seemed to have drivers as skilled as Megan.

  “Wall up ahead,” Megan said.

  I blasted it, then glanced at the energy meter on the side of the gauss gun. Prof was right; I’d drained it pretty quickly. We had maybe a couple of shots left.

  We roared out into open air and the gravatonics on the cycle engaged, softening our landing as we fell one story to the street below. We still hit hard; the cycle wasn’t intended to take jumps that high. I grunted, my backside and legs hammered from the impact. Megan immediately punched the vehicle forward down a narrow alleyway behind the mall.

  I could see the ground fall away up ahead. The gulley. We only had to-

  A sleek black copter rose out of the gulley in front of us, and the rotary guns on its sides began to spin up.

  Not a chance, I thought, raising the gauss gun with both hands, sighting. Megan ducked lower and the cycle hit the edge of the gulley. The copter started firing. I could see the pilot’s helmet through the glass of the cockpit.

  I took the shot.

  I’d often dreamed of doing incredible things. I’d imagined what it would be like to work with the Reckoners, to fight the Epics, to actually do things instead of sitting around thinking about them. With that shot, I finally got my chance.

  I hung in the air, staring down a hundred-ton death machine, and squeezed the trigger. I popped the copter’s canopy dead on, vaporizing it and the pilot inside. For a moment I felt like the Epics must. Like a god.

  And then I fell out of the seat.

  I should have expected it-going into free fall in a twenty-foot ravine with two hands on my gun and none on my ride made it kind of inevitable. I won’t say I was happy to find myself plummeting toward broken legs and probably worse.

  But that shot … That shot had been worth it.

  I didn’t feel much of the fall. It happened so fast. I hit mere moments after realizing I’d lost my seat, and I heard a crunch. That was followed by a boom that deafened me, and that was followed by a wave of heat.

  I lay there, stunned, as my vision swam. I found myself facing the wreckage of the copter, which burned nearby. I felt numb.

  Suddenly Megan was shaking me. I coughed, rolling over, and looked up at her. She’d pulled off her helmet, so I could see her face. Her beautiful face. She actually seemed concerned about me. That made me smile.

  She was saying something. My ears rang, and I squinted, trying to read her lips. I could barely hear the words. “… up, you slontze! Get up!”

  “You aren’t supposed to shake someone who’s suffered a fall,” I mumbled. “Might have a broken back.”

  “You’ll have a broken head if you don’t start moving.”

  “But-”

  “Idiot. Your jacket absorbed the blow. Remember? The one you wear to keep you from getting killed? They’re supposed to make up for you doing stupid things like letting go of me in midair.”

  “It’s not my intention to let go of you,” I mumbled. “Not ever.”

  She froze.

  Wait. Had I just said that out loud?

  Jacket, I thought, wiggling my toes, then raising both arms. The jacket’s shielding device protected me. And … and we’re still being chased.

  Calamity! I was a slontze. I rolled onto my knees and let Megan help me to my feet. I coughed a few times but felt more stable by the moment. I let go of her and was pretty steady by the time we reached the cycle, which she’d landed without crashing.

  “Wait,” I said, looking around. “Where is …”

  The gauss gun lay in several pieces where it had fallen and hit a steel rock. I felt a sinking feeling, though I knew the gun wasn’t nearly as useful to us now. We couldn’t use it to pretend to be an Epic any longer, not now that Enforcement had seen me shooting it.

  Still, it was a pity to lose such a nice weapon. Particularly after leaving my own rifle in the van. I was making a real habit of that sort of thing.

  I climbed onto the cycle behind Megan, who pulled on her helmet again. The poor machine was looking pretty ragged, scratched and dented, the windshield cracked. One of the gravatonics-a palm-size oval on the right side-didn’t light up like the others anymore. But the cycle still started, and the engine roared as Megan drove us down the ravine toward a large tunnel up ahead. It looked like it led into the sewage system, but a lot of things like that were misleading in Newcago, what with the Great Transfersion and the creation of the understreets.

  “Hey, all y’all?” Cody said softly in our ears. By some miracle I’d kept my mobile and earpiece through the fall. “Something strange is going on. Something very, very strange is going on.”

  “Cody,” Tia said. “Where are you?”

  “Limo’s down,” he said. “I shot out one of the tires and it drove itself into a wall. I had to eliminate six soldiers before I could approach.”

  Megan and I passed into the tunnel, the darkness deepening. The ground sloped downward. I was vaguely familiar with the area, and I figured this would lead us into the understreets near Gibbons Street, a relatively unpopulated area.

  “What about Conflux?” Prof asked Cody.

  “He wasn’t inside the limo.”

  “Maybe one of the Enforcement officers you shot was actually Conflux,” Tia said.

  “Nah,” Cody said. “I found him. In the trunk.”

  The line was quiet for a moment.

  “You’re sure it’s him?” Prof asked.

  “Well, no,” Cody said. “Maybe they had some other Epic tied up in their trunk. Either way, the dowser says this lad’s very powerful. But he’s unconscious.”

  “Shoot him,” Prof said.

  “No,” Megan said. “Bring him.”

  “I think she’s right, Prof,” Cody said. “If he’s tied up, he can’t be that strong. Either that, or they’ve used his weakness to make him impotent.”

  “We don’t know his weakness, though,” Prof said. “Put him out of his misery.”

  “I’m not shooting an unconscious fellow, Prof,” Cody said. “Not even an Epic.”

  “Then leave him.”

  I was torn. Epics deserved to die. All of them. But why was he unconscious-what were they doing with him? Was it even Conflux?

  “Jon,” Tia said. “We might need this. If it is Conflux, he could tell us things. We might even be able to use him against Steelheart, or bargain for our escape.”

  “He’s not supposed to be very dangerous,” I admitted, speaking into the line. My lip was bleeding. I’d bit it when I’d fallen, and now that I was a little more aware of things I realized my leg was aching and my side was throbbing. The jackets helped, but they were far from perfect.

  “Fine,” Prof said. “Bolt-hole seven, Cody. Don’t take him to the base. Leave him tied up, blindfolded, and gagged. Do not talk to him. We need to deal with him together.”

  “Right,” Cody said. “I’m on it.”

  “Megan and David,” Prof said, “I want you to-”

  I lost the rest as gunfire erupted around us. The cycle-battered as it was-spun out and went down.

  Right onto the side where the gravatonics were broken.

  30

  Without the gravatonics, the cycle reacted like any normal motorcycle would when falling onto its side at very high speed.

  Which isn’t a good thing.

  I was immediately ripped free, the cycle skidding out from un
derneath me as my leg hit the ground and the friction pulled me backward. Megan wasn’t so lucky. She got pinned under the cycle, its weight grinding her against the ground. It collided with the wall of the tubular steel corridor.

  The tunnel wavered, and my leg burned with pain. As I rolled to a halt and things stopped shaking, I realized that I was still alive. I actually found that surprising.

  Behind us, from an alcove we had driven past, two men in full Enforcement armor stepped out of the shadows. There were some small, faint lights ringing the edge of the alcove. By that light I could see that the soldiers looked relaxed. I swore I could hear one chuckling inside his helmet as he said something over the comm unit to his companion. They assumed Megan and I would both be dead-or at least knocked out of fighting shape-by such a crash.

  To Calamity with that, I thought, cheeks hot with anger. Before I’d had time to think, I’d unholstered the pistol under my arm-the pistol that had killed my father-and unloaded four shots at nearly point-blank range into the men. I didn’t aim for their chests, not with their armor. The sweet spot was the neck.

  Both men fell. I breathed in a deep, ragged breath, my hand and gun shaking in front of me. I blinked a few times, shocked that I’d managed to hit them. Maybe Megan was right about handguns.

  I groaned, then managed to sit up. My Reckoner jacket was in tatters; many of the diodes along its inside-the ones that generated the protective field-were smoking or entirely ripped free. My leg was scraped badly along one side. Though it hurt fiercely, the lacerations weren’t too deep. I was able to stumble to my feet and walk. Kind of.

  The pain was … rather unpleasant.

  Megan! The thought came through the daze, and-stupid though it was-I didn’t check to see if the two soldiers were actually dead. I limped over to where the fallen cycle had skidded up against the wall. The only light here was from my mobile. I pushed aside the wreckage and found Megan sprawled beneath, her jacket in even worse shape than mine.

  She didn’t look good. She wasn’t moving, her eyes were closed, and her helmet was cracked, only halfway on. Blood trailed down her cheek. It was the color of her lips. Her arm was twisted at an awkward angle, and her entire side-leg up to torso-was bloodied. I knelt, aghast, the cool, calm light of my mobile revealing horrible wounds everywhere I turned it.

  “David?” Tia’s voice came softly from my mobile, which hung in its place from my jacket. It was a miracle it still functioned, though I’d lost my earpiece. “David? I can’t reach Megan. What’s going on?”

  “Megan’s down,” I said numbly. “Her mobile is gone. Shattered, probably.” It had been attached to her jacket, which was mostly gone also.

  Breathing. I have to see if she’s breathing. I leaned down, trying to use my mobile screen to catch her breath. Then I thought to check for a pulse. I’m in shock. I’m not thinking right. Could you think that, when you weren’t thinking right?

  I pressed my fingers against Megan’s neck. The skin felt clammy.

  “David!” Tia said urgently. “David, there’s chatter on the Enforcement channels. They know where you are. There are multiple units converging on you. Infantry and armor. Go!”

  I felt a pulse. Shallow, light, but there.

  “She’s alive,” I said. “Tia, she’s alive!”

  “You have to get out of there, David!”

  Moving Megan could make things worse for her, but leaving her would definitely make things worse. If they took her she’d be tortured and executed. I pulled off my tattered jacket and used it to wrap my leg. As I worked I felt something in the pocket. I pulled it out. The pen detonator and blasting caps.

  In a moment of lucidity I stuck one of the blasting caps on the cycle’s fuel cell. I’d heard you could destabilize and blow those, if you knew what you were doing-which I didn’t. It seemed like a good idea, though. My only idea. I took my mobile and attached it to my wrist mount. Then, sucking in a deep breath, I shoved aside the broken motorcycle-the front wheel had been ripped clean off-and lifted Megan.

  Her broken helmet slipped free, falling off and cracking against the ground. That made her hair cascade down over my shoulder. She was heavier than she looked. People always are. Though she was small, she was compact, dense. I decided she’d probably not like hearing me describe her that way.

  I got her up over my shoulders, then began an unsteady hike down the tunnel. Tiny yellow lights hung from the ceiling periodically, giving barely enough light to see by, even for an understreeter like me.

  Soon my shoulders and back were complaining. I kept on going, one foot after another. I wasn’t moving very quickly. I wasn’t thinking very well either.

  “David.” Prof’s voice. Quiet, intense.

  “I’m not leaving her,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “I wouldn’t have you do something like that,” Prof said. “I’d much sooner have you stand your ground and make Enforcement gun you both down.”

  Not very comforting.

  “It’s not going to come to that, son,” Prof said. “Help is on its way.”

  “I think I can hear them,” I said. I’d finally reached the end of the tunnel; it opened onto a narrow crossroads in the understreets. There were no buildings here, just steel corridors. I didn’t know this part of town well.

  The ceiling was solid, with no gaps up to the air above like there were in the area where I’d grown up. Those were definitely shouts I heard echoing from the right. I heard clanks from behind, steel feet pounding against the steel ground. More shouts. They’d found the cycle.

  I leaned up against the wall, shifting Megan’s weight, then pressed the button on my pen detonator. I was relieved to hear a pop from behind as the cycle’s fuel cell blew. The shouts rose. Maybe I’d caught a few of them in the blast; if I was really lucky they’d assume I was hiding somewhere near the wreckage and had tossed a grenade or something.

  I hefted Megan, then took the left turn at the crossroads. Her blood had soaked my clothing. She was probably dead by-

  No. I wouldn’t think about that. One foot in front of the other. Help was coming. Prof promised help was coming. It would come. Prof didn’t lie. Jonathan Phaedrus, founder of the Reckoners, a man I somehow understood. If there was anything in this world I felt I could trust, it was him.

  I walked a good five minutes before I was forced to pull up short. The tunnel in front of me ended in a flat wall of steel. Dead end. I glanced over my shoulder to see flashlights and shadows moving. No escape that way.

  The corridor around me was wide, maybe twenty paces across, and tall. There was some old construction equipment on the ground, though most of it looked to have been picked over by opportunists. There were a few heaps of broken bricks and cinder blocks. Someone had been building more rooms down here recently. Well, those might provide some cover.

  I stumbled over and laid Megan down behind the largest of the piles, then I flipped my mobile to manual response. Prof and the others wouldn’t be able to hear me unless I touched the screen to broadcast, but it also meant they wouldn’t give away my position by trying to contact me.

  I crouched down behind the bricks. The pile didn’t give me complete cover, but it was better than nothing. Cornered, outgunned, with no way to …

  Suddenly I felt like an idiot. I dug in the zip pocket on my trouser leg, fishing for my tensor. I pulled it out triumphantly. Maybe I could dig down to the steel catacombs, or even just dig out to the side and find a safer path.

  I pulled on the glove, and only then did I realize that the tensor had been shredded. I stared at it with a sinking despair. It had been in the pocket on the leg I’d landed on when falling, and the pouch had been ripped at the bottom. The tensor was missing two fingers, and the electronics had been shattered, pieces hanging off like eyes drooping out of a zombie’s sockets in an old horror movie.

  I almost laughed as I settled back down. The Enforcement soldiers were searching the corridors. Shouts. Footsteps. Flashlights. Getting closer.

&
nbsp; My mobile blinked softly. I turned the volume way down, then pressed the screen and leaned in. “David?” Tia asked in a very quiet voice. “David, where are you?”

  “I reached the bottom of the tunnel,” I whispered back, holding the mobile up to my mouth. “I turned left.”

  “Left? That’s a dead end. You need to-”

  “I know,” I said. “There were soldiers the other directions.” I glanced at Megan, lying slumped on the floor. I tested her neck again.

  Still a pulse. I closed my eyes in relief. Not that it matters now.

  “Calamity,” Tia swore. I heard gunfire and jumped, thinking it was from my position. But it wasn’t. It was from the line.

  “Tia?” I hissed.

  “They’re here,” she said. “Don’t worry about me. I can hold this place. David, you have to-”

  “Hey, you!” a voice called from the intersection.

  I ducked down, but the mound of bricks wasn’t large enough to hide me completely unless I was practically lying flat.

  “There’s someone over there!” the voice shouted. Powerful, Enforcement-issue flashlights pointed my direction. Most of those would be on the ends of assault rifles.

  My mobile flashed. I tapped it. “David.” Prof’s voice. He sounded winded. “Use the tensor.”

  “Broken,” I whispered. “I ruined it in the crash.”

  Silence.

  “Try it anyway,” Prof urged.

  “Prof, it’s dead.” I peeked over the bricks. A large crowd of soldiers was gathering at the other end of the hall. Several were kneeling with guns pointed in my direction, eyes to scopes. I kept low.

  “Just do it,” Prof ordered.

  I sighed, then pressed my hand against the ground. I closed my eyes, but it wasn’t easy to concentrate.

  “Hold up your arms and walk forward slowly!” a voice shouted down the hall toward me. “If you do not show yourself, we will be forced to open fire.”

  I tried as best I could to ignore them. I focused on the tensor, on the vibrations. For a moment I thought I felt something, a low hum-deep, powerful.

  It was gone. This was stupid. Like trying to saw a hole in a wall using only a bottle of soda.