Firewall (Magic Born)

by Sonya Clark

  Not the intent of the Magic Born, anyway. “This isn’t from FreakTown. I know there are witches off-zone tonight—I can feel their energy. But this is something different.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s unstable and I don’t like being out in it.” He replaced the phone in a pocket and took her hand.

  An explosion lit up the street with flames, followed by screams and broken glass. They both ducked instinctively. Hayes swore. “Somebody learned how to make Molotov cocktails.”

  “I’m surprised it’s taken this long.” She tugged on his arm and headed for the opposite end of the alley. “Come on.”

  Their original plan was to stick to the edges of Rockenbach but that proved impossible. Streets were cordoned off and guarded at checkpoints. Their IDs were good but on a night like this, it wasn’t worth the risk. They wound up pushed into the heart of the neighborhood. A sea of angry humanity churned there. Small fires in trash and recycling bins dotted the area and sent thick plumes of acrid smoke into the air. Tuyet led the way to a side street but they had to back out quickly. It was a melee of protesters and cops, swinging batons and blood on the pavement.

  Back on the main thoroughfare they were separated when a crush of people forced them apart. Tuyet made her way to the sidewalk and took refuge in the barred doorway of a grocer. Hayes was farther back and it took him longer to push through the crowd.

  “This is insane,” he said, having to yell to be heard over the din.

  “I’ve never seen it this bad before. Once we make it to Midtown we should be okay.”

  He surveyed the scene, face drawn in intense concentration. “It’s the getting there that worries me.”

  “Do you know where the Fifth Street bridge is? If we get split up, we can meet there and make it the rest of the way with no problem.”

  Hayes looked at her like she was crazy. “We’re not splitting up in this.”

  “I’ll be fine—you know you don’t have to worry.”

  “Save that tough-guy shit for another time.” He took her hand in his and squeezed. “We are not splitting up.”

  “Okay.” She sighed, in no mood to argue. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of letting him out of her sight either. “We push our way through then.”

  They worked their way to the end of the block. More police poured in, fighting hand to hand with masked protesters. Hayes took a vicious punch to the side of the head when they got too close to a scuffle. Tuyet got an arm around him and steered him away. They fell back to the sidewalk and leaned against a graffiti-covered façade.

  Not all of the protesters were really protesters. One of the biggest issues and loudest debates within the movement was the presence of thugs in the Friday-night riots. A sizable contingent of people who wanted nothing more than to run wild had been growing in number in recent weeks. The level of violence they brought had been escalating as well.

  Tuyet watched through the crowd as a group of hooligans broke the plate-glass window of a store on the opposite side of the street. She gripped Hayes by the shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “Yeah, there’s only three of everything. Let’s go.”

  A thrown rock hit a streetlight. The bulb blinked then came back on. Tuyet felt the pull on the air as someone in the crowd drew energy from it. The light went out. She couldn’t spot the Magic Born responsible but sporadic witchlight popped up halfway down the block.

  Hand in hand, they hurried through the throng. A black-clad officer tried to grab Tuyet but she twisted away from his grasp. As she did, a familiar face crossed her line of vision.

  It was Paula Miller, camera in hand, about to get hit over the head with a truncheon by a cop poised behind her. Tuyet broke away from Hayes and tackled the officer. They went to the ground and rolled, stopped by the feet and legs of others in the crowd. The cop bounced up quickly but Tuyet was already on her feet, her hand tangled in Paula’s jacket. Hayes fell into position on the other side and they took off.

  “Slow down,” Paula yelled. “I need to get this on camera.”

  Hayes called over his shoulder, “This your grad student?”

  “We need to get her to safety,” Tuyet replied.

  Paula lowered the camera and yanked her jacket away from Tuyet, halting in the middle of the street. “I’m not going anywhere. And you talk to me when I’m right next to you, not about me.”

  Normally Tuyet would have wholeheartedly agreed but this situation was too far out of control. “Paula, it’s too dangerous. I know why you want to be here but it’s not worth getting hurt or arrested.”

  “People need to see this. Do you see any other cameras out here? They can get away with whatever they want precisely because everyone either thinks this story is too dangerous or just not worth covering.”

  Hayes said, “We need to head back the other way. Now.” He pointed at an intersection a block-and-a-half up.

  A solid black line of police in full riot gear was spread across all four lanes of the street. They were marching toward the protesters and armed with assault rifles.

  “They won’t fire into the crowd,” Paula said. “They wouldn’t dare.”

  Tuyet said, “You really want to test that theory? Like you said, they think they can get away with anything.”

  Hayes stepped between the two women. “Debate time’s over. We’re going.”

  The streetlights were all out, either broken or bled dry by witches for their energy. Glass and debris littered the streets and flew through the air. A hard chunk of something hit Tuyet in the shoulder as they ran. A mirrorball helmet made of witchlight burst into existence to their left. Tuyet scanned the people nearby, not recognizing anyone or any glamours but sure there were Magic Born nearby.

  “Get back to the zone,” she called out. “They’ve got guns! Get off the streets and back to the zone.”

  She heard Hayes issuing similar warnings to people near him. Paula turned and walked backward, camera aimed at the advancing line of police. A witchlight V10 sped by, exploding in a rainbow of color when it crashed into a building. Just ahead, three masked rioters lit the wicks of their Molotov cocktails. In rapid succession, the bombs were lobbed into the air, arcing overhead and hitting the ground way too close to the line of police.

  Tuyet turned in time to see a cop go to his knees, screaming and clutching his chest.

  Pop pop pop.

  The night erupted in screams. The line of police charged, firing their weapons into the crowd. Those who could scattered, running flat out. Hayes was yelling but she couldn’t make out the words.

  They ran to the nearest side street, keeping Paula between them. The shots and screams continued. Hayes ducked into a doorway and drew the women toward him. He said to Tuyet, “What’s the best way out of here?”

  She was gasping for breath. “Side streets, loop back around above the police line. That’ll get us to Midtown.”

  Hayes looked at Paula. “Put the camera away—it’s not worth it.”

  “Hell, no. This needs to be recorded.”

  Hayes was ready to argue. Tuyet said, “Stick close to her. I can handle myself in this mess better than she can.” She glanced at the filmmaker. “Don’t argue. Just trust us. We can get you through this safely.”

  Paula nodded. “I just want to keep filming as long as I can.”

  Hayes said, “Tuyet, you take point. Paula, you film all you want with one hand, because I’m keeping the other.” He took Paula’s free hand and met Tuyet’s eyes. Understanding passed between them. They would get the young woman out safely, then get themselves to their waiting vehicle. All the years of working together came back in a rush, along with the trust in each other’s abilities. It calmed the adrenaline dump sending her heart into overdrive, allowing her to think and to consign fear to a small corner of her being.

>   She led them through block after block, doubling back, ducking through alleys, hiding from police and protesters both. Paula kept her camera aimed at the chaos as Hayes shielded her. White spotlights from police drones and helicopters hopscotched overhead. They passed bodies on the ground, pools of blood.

  Finally they reached the street that should have allowed them to get past the police line. A massive black armored vehicle cut off the route, deploying a water cannon aimed at people trying to escape. Tuyet halted, Hayes and Paula running into her back.

  “They’re sealing up the area,” Hayes said in her ear, his hand on her shoulder.

  The sound of gunfire intensified. “This is starting to feel like a mop-up operation. We go for the tunnels.”

  He squeezed her shoulder in agreement. She glanced at Paula, who nodded. The young woman’s eyes were bloodshot from the smoke, her hand in a death grip around the small camera, but she held herself together with a determination Tuyet admired.

  They weren’t the only ones heading for the tunnels. Magic rushed through the streets, a wild overflowing river, as terrified witches fled the carnage, their energy spilling out like unstable emotions.

  “Calhoun Street is blocked! Calhoun is blocked, head for the Riverside entrance!”

  Tuyet scanned the crowd for the familiar voice. She spotted him just ahead, standing on the side of the street, directing people to safety. Nate Perez was still recognizable to her, even with the mask on the lower half of his face and a glamour meant to alter the features left visible. She grabbed Hayes, pointed at the other man, and headed for Nate.

  “You are supposed to be gone by now,” the former cop said by way of greeting.

  “Yeah, well.” Tuyet gestured at the scene. “Is it this bad all the way back to FreakTown?”

  “Worse in some parts. I think they’re herding us.”

  “Where are the cops concentrated?”

  “A three-block area right in the middle of Rock. They’re cutting off side streets, blocking people in. Mass arrests. They’re not playing tonight.”

  Hayes said, “What are the Magic Born doing out in this?”

  Nate seemed reluctant to answer but finally did after a look from Tuyet. “It’s a long story. Basically, a bunch of kids decided to be stupid. Then a bunch more of us came out after them. Now we’re all fucked unless we get back inside the zone as soon as possible.”

  A burst of automatic gunfire sent people diving for cover. Hayes dragged Paula to crouch behind a bus stop. Tuyet and Nate lay flat on the ground. Someone in a mask and torn jacket ran past then dropped to the ground as a bullet hit them in the back.

  “Snow!” Hayes reached for her.

  She crawled toward him, glancing once over her shoulder to make sure Nate followed. The four took refuge in a small store, its door already off the hinges.

  Nate ripped off his cloth mask and threw it on the floor. “That was an illegal shooting. Police aren’t allowed to shoot suspects in the back.”

  “They don’t give a damn about the rules tonight,” said Hayes. He moved around the dark room, searching.

  “We’ve got to find a way to get all this video uploaded and actually seen,” Paula said. “People have to know what’s going on in New Corinth.”

  “We will,” Tuyet promised. “For right now we need a back way out of here and to get to the tunnels.”

  Hayes said, “Found it. Delivery entrance in the back.”

  “We need to make a run for it, fast as we can.” Tuyet headed for the door. “Paula, stay close. Nate, when we get to the junction, Hayes and I will split off and head to Midtown. We’ll guide her to the exit and make sure she gets home safe.”

  “Got it,” Nate said.

  One hand on the door, Tuyet turned to Hayes. “Ready?”

  He kissed her, a quick warm press of his lips to hers. “Always.”

  Tuyet swung the door open and they ran back out into the chaos.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The chemical stench of the river overwhelmed the smell of fire and smoke. Nothing could drown out the gunfire and the screams. Another sound rumbled behind that—a police armored personnel carrier. Tuyet ran flat out, part of a stream of dozens of people both Magic Born and Normal, headed for the safety of the old subway tunnels.

  A pair of witches who were the first to reach the hidden entrance opened it. With all of the cops around this would compromise that entrance, but if they could get people in the tunnels and seal it before cops had a chance to follow, at least they would be safe. Finding a new entrance to the tunnel could happen later.

  Right now, they needed suppressing fire. Tuyet ran for a streetlight, one of the few still working. She placed both hands on the metal of the pole and focused her will on pulling, as hard as she could. Neon would have worked better with her particular skill set, but she could manage well enough with this.

  The bulb dimmed overhead. Heat shimmered through her, a desert mirage. More. She needed more. Deeper into the city’s power grid. Eyes half-closed, she murmured an incantation to the Madman of the Wires, asking for his help.

  Electric magic blasted through her body. Concentrating fiercely, she raised one hand from the pole and aimed it at the line of police. A wall of light erupted from the magic working through her and swirling in the air. A blinding blue-white, it cut off the riot cops’ view of the escaping protesters. Shots still rang out, the police aiming wildly. Tuyet poured more energy into the wall, drawing on reserves she rarely tapped.

  Electricity leapt from her fingers and the ends of her hair. It crackled and danced in the air, then sped toward the wall of light. Blue-white turned a deep indigo that sparkled with dots of energy, a late-twilight sky full of stars. It absorbed the bullets, becoming stronger with every impact.

  She pushed the wall closer to the line of cops, hemming them in to keep them from giving chase. Heat boiled in her, sweat soaking her skin like a hard rain. All color and sound dimmed until she could hear nothing but her own heartbeat, see nothing but the dark night-blue of the defensive shield. She drew more and more power from the surrounding area, streetlights and steel, the humming power grid and even the crowd itself. She asked of the city and it gave.

  Her body could only handle that much magic for so long. The barrier began to slip, a shot getting through here and there. She tried to bolster it and got a few more moments. Her vision cleared enough that she was able to make sense of the dark shape behind the riot cops, who were moving out from in front of it. An armored vehicle. She put the rest together just seconds before an RPG hit the shield.

  The impact gonged like a massive bell, disintegrating the barrier. Tuyet dropped to the ground, fried magically and exhausted physically. Her hearing returned in a rush, the sound of screams and gunfire cleaving her head. She shut her eyes against the sudden burn of brightness from the armored vehicle’s lights.

  Hands grasped her waist. “Snow, it’s me. Can you move?”

  Hayes. She covered his hands with hers. “Yeah.”

  He helped her up and kept one arm around her as they hurried to the tunnel entrance. As soon as they were inside, the same pair of witches who’d opened it sealed the door with an incantation. Tuyet slumped against the concrete wall. Just a moment was all she needed. Well, that wasn’t true, but nobody had to know how bad she felt. Least of all the man crouched in front of her.

  Hayes brushed her hair from her face. “That was some serious magic.”

  “Yeah.” One-word answers seemed to be all she could manage.

  “So are you just moderately fried or burnt to a crisp?”

  She focused on his face. For one thing, she needed an anchor to help quell the energy still bouncing through her system. For another, she wanted to know how he really felt. When working undercover, Hayes could hide his true feelings with the best of them, but when it was ju
st the two of them he’d always worn everything on his sleeve and in his eyes. Right then they were full of concern, but also awe. It made her proud to see that.

  “How many?”

  “Dozens, at least. Paula too. She’s still filming.”

  “Actually, I just ran out of battery,” Paula said as she knelt at Tuyet’s side. “Are you okay?”

  Tuyet worked up a smile. “Never better.”

  Hayes folded her hand into both of his. “Let’s get going. I want out of New Corinth before they decide to shut down the whole city.”

  As bad as this riot was, Tuyet knew that was likely to happen. She braced her free hand against the wall and pushed herself up. Low-level witchlight illuminated the tunnel. Several yards in they met Nate, who was frantically trying to patch up someone injured on the ground.

  Tuyet said, “What happened?”

  “It’s Mekhi. He’s been shot.” Nate hurried out of his jacket and ripped at the sleeves. Zinnia’s partner must have been one of the adults who came out to collect the kids. He lay unconscious, his dark face ashen.

  Hayes swung the duffel from his back and unzipped it. In moments he found their first-aid kit and dropped to the injured man’s side. He and Nate worked quickly, efficiently. Gushes of blood poured from a bullet hole in Mekhi’s chest. Tuyet went through the duffel for clothes that could be used as bandages while Hayes ripped open a packet of clotting powder and dumped it on the wound.

  Nate said, “Got any more of that?”

  “Just the one. How far is it?”

  “Too fucking far. Help me get him on my shoulder.”

  “Dale,” Tuyet said quietly. Their eyes met, an unspoken conversation passing between them in seconds. He nodded in agreement.

  “We’ll take turns.” He helped lift Mekhi and got him balanced on Nate’s shoulder. Nate left at a fast walk without another word.

  Tuyet hefted the duffel so Hayes would be free to switch with Nate at any time. Once they reached the Y-junction, she took Paula by the elbow. They stood near a pile of broken track, under green and yellow witchlight spelled into the ceiling.