Gen One
Page 10
“All you have to do on this one is pull the trigger,” he said with a smile. She took it and eyed the weapon. It was about as small as her palm, but weighty.
“I know how to fight,” she answered. It was true. You don’t spend so much time in the Banks and not know how to defend yourself or escape. But these bots were a different matter entirely. Who knew if any weaponry would pierce their armor?
Brute touched her arm and angled it up, leveling the blaster at the bot’s helmet. “You aim for the eye. At least on the bots outside. These tin cans in here? I don’t know. Take one eye out and the others compensate, probably. So keep firing. Or stabbing.”
Delilah lowered her arm while the others shared a conspiratorial look. She cleared her throat. “What am I missing?” she asked.
Gen stood up and wiped the dirt on her jumpsuit, leaving a streak of dust on her leg. “These bots are scheduled to go online in days. This may be our last chance to take them out.”
“Take them out how?” She eyed the rows of killer bots behind Gen. Hundreds of them. It would take a major explosion which she assumed they didn’t have the firepower for.
Smoke stepped between them. “We don’t know,” she admitted, folding her hands. “Our plan right now is to rescue our people, hide, and reassess.” She looked behind her at the bots and her mouth worked its way into a frown. “I wish we could do it now, though. Take them all out. I’m afraid we won’t have another opportunity.”
Gen put a hand on her shoulder. “We will,” she said, in a voice softer than Delilah thought she was capable of. “Just not today.”
Smoke gave Gen a sad smile, and Delilah was sure Smoke blinked back a tear. She walked two paces off.
“So, everyone is clear?” Gen asked.
Delilah was about to open her mouth to admit she hadn’t been paying attention, but Brute answered for her.
“We’re good,” he said, then looked down at Delilah. “Just stick with me. We’re commandeering.” He put the knife in his pants pocket, then pulled a blaster from another bot and armed himself with it.
“Okay.” Smoke resumed control. The emotion she’d showed just moments before was gone, replaced by a steely determination. It made Delilah feel good. If anyone could get Zane back, it was these people. But there was more than Zane at stake, as Smoke explained.
“Gen and I will go in one of the warehouses. Trip the alarm, create a diversion. They’ll think there are many more of us than there are, thanks to some networking Brute did.” Brute smirked. “I don’t know how many they’ll send, but we need to take out the rest. And hurry, because without a doubt, they’ll send more.”
Delilah cut in. “And where do we go once we’re in the boat?” she asked. “Can’t they track us?”
“Yes, and no,” Smoke replied cryptically. She had a frown on that suggested she’d been over this when Delilah wasn’t listening. “They can’t track us in open water. It messes with their electronics. So, we drive fast.”
Delilah looked at the walls of the warehouse which were buckling in the wind. It probably wasn’t worth mentioning there was weather coming in. If that were the only way to save Zane and the others, to keep them from going to some awful zoo or the gallows, she’d go through any storm. “Okay,” she agreed.
Smoke backed up to leave, but Delilah was surprised when Gen pulled her into a hug. She shouldn’t have been. They’d been as close as sisters the last couple years, and the bot had showed her that robots, specifically the Gen One bots, could feel human emotion. She squeezed Gen back, and the girl smelled of the coconut lotion she’d put on that morning. Not at all metallic and never threatening. Delilah pulled back and looked at the girl’s eyes. The circuitry inside her blue irises was the only thing that gave her away.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Zane made me promise,” Gen said.
Delilah rolled her eyes. “Protecting me.”
Gen tipped her head and smiled. “I told him he didn’t have to, but he was insistent.”
A vague smile pulled at the corner of her lips, but Zane was in danger. “He can be,” she said.
Gen put a hand on her shoulder. Smoke had already made her way between the bots to the far side of the room. “We won’t leave without him,” she said.
It was all Delilah could do to nod, and then the others were gone. Gen slipped out behind Smoke.
“So.” Brute clapped her shoulder. “Are you ready to commandeer a boat?”
Brute opened his map and studied the small, three-dimensional projection before opening the door. The bots were at the same place they’d been, supervising the unloading of the cargo ship. The small fishing boat had docked just behind it, empty of both bots and humans.
“Lucky,” Brute commented. “If the scramblers are working, they won’t know we’re even on the boat.” He turned back with a smile. “No knifing needed.”
“An uneventful commandeering,” Delilah mumbled. She peeked out the crack of the door. A cold wind had blown the clouds back in, making the alley seem even darker and more sinister, even though she knew there was no one out there. The breeze curled in the door and blew the stray pieces of hair into Delilah’s face. She shivered. The prison uniform wasn’t enough to keep anyone warm after the sun set.
“Let’s hope.” Brute kept the device open in his palm and Delilah watched the little blue and red dots move around. He was waiting for some kind of signal, the exact nature of which Delilah couldn’t remember. Brute had told her she’d know when she heard it, but she didn’t remember that the signal was a loud siren. She jumped back into the shadows of the warehouse, letting the door fall almost closed.
The noise was high pitched and shrill, off and on every couple seconds. It was similar to the alarms in the Banks, but louder and meaner. If the noise meant business in the Banks, it meant murder here. Delilah had to force herself not to cover her ears, and she and Brute had to yell to communicate.
“Let’s go!” Brute snapped the disc closed. The alarm pierced her ear drums, but in the spaces between noise, Delilah thought she heard chaos from the other side of the warehouse. Brute picked up the pace. Were the prisoners rioting? Was that a laser blast?
Brute paused at the end of the warehouse and looked around the corner as he pulled out the map. Something moved on the far side of the alley, and Delilah pulled Brute into the shadows as one of the large bots stomped by, shaking the ground with its speed even from this far away. She gave Brute a warning look, and he consulted the map. The way forward to the boat was clear. The plan had worked. Only two bots were left to protect the prisoners and the warehouse. She hoped Smoke had a plan for them, and whatever it was, that she would do it fast.
The boat was docked across a small walkway, moored haphazardly behind the cargo ship. It was an old fishing vessel, she was right about that. Most of it was open to the elements and it would be a cold ride, but there was a small closed-in area upstairs for the captain. The waves tossed the vessel around. The side slapped at the pier, and the sirens blared. She did the math quickly in her head. The boat might hold everyone, but it would be tight.
She followed as Brute sprinted across the walkway, down the pier, and onto the slippery floor of the boat. It took a minute to get used to the rocking movement, and Delilah ducked below the rail. She tried to turn back, but the view of the prisoners was cut off by the edge of the closest warehouse. A laser blast flew by, though, and her stomach fell. If the prisoners were revolting, they had to hurry.
The wind whipped her hair out of the bun and around her face as spray splashed up. Brute directed her to detach all the ropes but one while he went onto the bridge. He nodded when he came out. All was ready. He pointed her into the cabin.
“Get used to the controls!” he yelled over the sirens, which were still blaring full blast, cutting into the cold night like a knife at their throats. Somewhere at the top of the hill, a line of white smo
ke trailed over the warehouses. What have they done? Delilah wondered. Brute had to whack her shoulder to get her head back on the controls. They were similar to the ones she’d seen on the boats she’d cleaned. The key started the engine. The throttle gave them speed. At least she hoped.
“I’ll be right back,” he yelled. He took a step back.
“You’re leaving me here?” she yelled back, but he didn’t hear her, or chose not to turn. The boat rocked when he stepped off, and he disappeared into the night. She wanted to go with him, even went so far as stepping out of the cabin, but someone had to be there to man the controls, to help the prisoners on, and to lead the way. She snorted at the thought of her leading anyone anywhere, but Zane’s life was on the line. She stepped back in and twisted her fingers around the keys, hoping they’d start the engine when the time came. She and Zane had researched enough technology to have a working knowledge of how these things operated. If it would work, though, was a different matter.
The sirens cut out instantly, as if a cord were severed, but in its wake the noise left a rising chaos of shouts and laser fire. Delilah placed a hand on the throttle, itching to turn the boat on and get the hell out of there. She’d rarely been in the industrial zone, and never at night. It seemed all the stories her father told her were true. There was death there, in the skeletons of the warehouses. She only hoped they could outrun it.
A wave came out of nowhere and hit the side of the boat, throwing Delilah into the controls and twisting her wrist. Outside, a wave of people ran past the warehouse and into her view, shouting and waving their hands. Blasters fired over their heads as the prisoners ran toward the boat. A few people stayed back to fight, but she couldn’t see who, only that they halted the bots’ progress enough for her to help the prisoners climb on the boat one and two at a time until at least fifteen crowded the space, none of them Zane or Smoke or Brute.
One of the large bots rounded the corner, though someone took it out at the leg before it aimed at the boat. She thought it was Brute who stood over the severed wires, knife in hand, but there was too much chaos to see. The smoke was thicker now. She smelled it in the air, and the prisoners brought with them an air of panic. They were yelling and crying, eager to get out of there, but she couldn’t leave. Not yet. Another bot fell in a blast, but the prisoners were making out much worse. The plaza in front of them was strewn with bodies. Delilah leaned over the rails, helping a straggler carrying the body of the young girl that took her box in the warehouse. She was still breathing but had a blaster wound in her upper leg.
“In the cabin,” Delilah directed them, following them up the stairs. The man laid the girl’s shaking body down on a bench. Delilah took the man’s jacket to bind the wound, but there was nothing more she could do for her. They had to get out of there. The sounds of fighting were closer, and a blast ricocheted off the boat. The prisoners on board yelled for them to leave, but she couldn’t.
The battle played out in front of them. From the cabin, Delilah caught glimpses of people she’d seen at the meeting. Smoke was there, with her own weapon—some kind of improvised flamethrower. She took down one of the bots, but in the process set the closest warehouse on fire.
“Genius,” Delilah said, as if Smoke had thought of the plan in advance. Delilah’s breath fogged up the window, and she rubbed a circle in the glass. The bots were in heavy battle with her friends. Delilah played with the keys in the ignition, and at the last minute, turned them. The bots were too distracted to hear it. The ignition caught, and Delilah thanked the heavens. Now all they had to do was wait for the others, pull the rope off, and run. But if Smoke and the others couldn’t take the last bots out, there was a good chance they’d be blasted out of the water.
“Zane!” She caught a glimpse of dark hair up by the warehouse, but with the chaos outside she couldn’t be sure. One bot went down in flames from Smoke’s weapon, leaving only one, but she was sure there were more on the way. A few more stragglers retreated to the boat, leaving four or five people to fight the bot, and that’s when she saw his face.
“No!” Delilah fought as Brute climbed on the bridge and held her back. Zane stayed. Of course he did. He’d taken Smoke’s flamethrower while she helped the remainder of the prisoners onto the boat. The boat lurched with their weight as Smoke untied them from the dock. Sunny slipped past them and took the throttle. Delilah watched Zane parry the bot, taking its attention away from the retreating prisoners.
“Wait!” she screamed, making it down the stairs and to the rail before Brute caught up to her. Delilah pushed back, but Brute held her as Sunny took the only rope that tethered them to the pier and they pushed off.
“ZANE!” she called. The last bot quivered on its legs, and Zane looked up. He saw her. She was sure of it. “ZANE!” Brute’s arms circled her waist, physically preventing her from jumping off the boat to him. “Hurry!” she screamed.
He took one look at the bot which seemed to be frozen, and tossed the flamethrower. But he was a moment too early. A line of bots appeared at the end of the street. They were too far to reach the boat, but closing fast. They shot at the boat, and Smoke told Sunny to go.
“Now!” Smoke yelled. Sunny pulled them away from the pier as Brute let the rope run slack. He gave Delilah a sad look.
“No!” Delilah fought Brute, but he lived up to his name and didn’t budge. “We don’t leave people behind!” She choked out her words. “You said! You said we don’t leave people behind!”
Delilah had been thrashing around so hard she hadn’t seen the bots’ quick approach. They shot at the boat, missing it by feet. Sunny pushed the boat as fast as it would go, and when they did, she saw Zane.
“It’s too late.” Smoke touched her shoulder. Her hand was cold even through the cloth. Zane was frozen, again. Captured. The bots didn’t bother with him—not yet, anyway. They marched past and toward the boat, which moved away quickly, leaving a wake behind them that was as big as the cavern in her heart. If she could have jumped out and swam back, she would have, but Brute still had his arms around her waist.
One blast hit the back of the boat and a section crashed off. It had hit the side, and not the bottom, but one man took the brunt of the burn and fell off and under the water. Smoke directed everyone to the front, and Brute dragged Delilah, kicking and screaming, to the cabin, where she could fall apart.
Sunny manned the controls silently, while Delilah sat on the floor hugging her knees. Brute had let go to tend to the girl. She was in worse shape than Delilah thought. The blast had hit her leg and her hip, and she’d lost a lot of blood. Some pooled on the floor, rolling back and forth as Sunny maneuvered the waves. She pushed the boat as fast as it would go, which wasn’t very speedy, but fast enough to slip away from the warehouses, which were rapidly fading in the distance. They were headed away from Authority City, into the open lands where Delilah and Zane scavenged.
Delilah pulled herself up and her stomach flipped. She wasn’t sure if the nausea was from the rocking boat or the sight of Zane, frozen. Frozen, but alive, she reminded herself.
“Let me see.” She pushed past Brute, who pressed a towel on the wound on the girl’s leg. Laser wounds were nasty. Worse than a serrated knife, they cut as they went through. He lifted the blanket, once white but now soaked with red, and blood seeped out of it.
“It will need to be stitched, and fast.” She took the towel and pressed on the girl’s thigh. The girl moaned, but she was out cold. Her dark hair matted to her face, and she trembled. In shock, if Delilah had to guess. She was no good at guessing, though, and not very good at anything but very basic medical help.
“We have supplies where we’re going,” Smoke said. She’d tied a piece of cloth over the wound on her side, but blood leaked though. “If she makes it,” she added.
Delilah sat back on her knees, trying to avoid the blood on the floor while keeping the pressure on. “She’s so young,” she sai
d, looking at the girl’s smooth, unlined face, grimacing even in sleep.
Smoke shook her head. “There are more of them out there than you know.” She swallowed. “In the zoos, in Authority City…” she paused. “They breed them.”
Delilah’s jaw dropped. “You mean humans?” The pit in her stomach fell even further, and she swallowed bile. “I thought that was rumor?”
Smoke shook her head. “There’s a lot you don’t know,” she said. She released pressure on the girl’s mid-section and got up to talk to Sunny. They conferred over one of those palm-sized maps Brute had, but she turned her attention back to the girl.
“Hang in there,” Delilah told her, folding up the towel and reapplying pressure. She reached up to push a dry curl off the girl’s cheek and she whimpered. A sheen of cold sweat covered her brow.
“How much longer?” she asked.
Smoke turned back to her. “It’s a long trip. We need to be as far away from Authority City and the bots as we can.” She smiled sadly. “Just do what you can for her.”
Delilah cleared her throat. “And Zane?”
Smoke and Sunny exchanged a look. The lights of Authority City twinkled to their right. Sunny had slowed the boat and slid past, but now she gunned the engine.
“They won’t kill him,” Sunny said softly. “He’s too valuable.”
Delilah squeezed her eyes closed, wishing she could push away all the what-if’s. What if they’d never gone scavenging that morning? What if they’d avoided the Banks, or just ran the other way when they saw the dead men?
Zane would still be in trouble. She felt it in her bones. Suspicion had been growing for months now. He’d start to tell her something, then pull away. Delilah thought he was just being Zane, but there was so much more to his behavior.
The girl’s head lolled to the side, but she was still breathing. Delilah ripped the blanket and tied it as tight as she could on her leg. It would have to do until they got to where they were going.