Under Dark Sky Law

by Tamara Boyens

  After sitting through more pointless inspections and unnecessarily rough handling from some of the new recruits, she was finally led inside to the center of the compound to the commanding officer’s inner domain. One of them pushed her roughly into a battered and uncomfortable metal chair that stood in front of an oversized steel desk. They were lucky she was in a good mood—out in the pits Xero was the boss, and she didn’t care for being shoved around like a nobody. People had died for less, but she held her tongue for the moment.

  A man with camo pants, a drab olive shirt, and a military cap walked into the room and put his hands on his hips, just above an impressive array of laser holsters.

  “Well if it isn’t Anastasia,” he said. “Damn, you really went all out today—you look like the secretary of my dreams. If I didn’t know what a dangerous bitch you really are, I would ask you to get down on your knees behind the desk there and give me some sugar!”

  Xero stared back at him, giving him dead eyes.

  He swallowed and pulled at his shirt collar. “Damn girl, don’t take things so seriously, lighten up a little for god’s sake,” he said.

  A broad smile spread across her face and she stood up. “Had you there for a second, didn’t I?” she said.

  He laughed and released a lungful of air. “Bitch, you fucking scared me. These noobs around here might not have any idea, but I’ve seen some of the shit you’ve done. Even I don’t wanna tangle with that kind of mess,” he said.

  “Sanchez, you never change,” she said and gave the man the sort of rough hug two old army buddies give after surviving one too many battles.

  “Good to see you. There’s some shit going down on the opposite end of the flats. I’m pretty sure it’s all localized, but I’m still glad we’ve got you on the convoy today. I did a stint out in Texas earlier this month, and some of them runner’s are just straight up idiots. Thought I’d never make it back to Arizona in one piece with those morons along for the ride,” he said.

  She stepped back and rested her ass on the edge of his desk. “Speaking of morons, what kind of an operation are you running here?” she asked.

  Sanchez put his hand on the back of his head and ruffled the buzz cut poking out from under his hat. “Oh, you mean the new recruits? Yeah I’m not happy about this either. I’ve asked HQ time and again not to put any raw dome soldiers out at this post, given how highly contaminated this place is. It’s getting to the point where even I have to wear a mask if we’re out there too long. Ever since they passed that law last year forbidding anyone from doing field shock runs, it’s harder to train these assholes. And I don’t have to tell you how tight things have been politically—it’s getting nearly impossible to pull more flatties into the service, even if it means getting them out of this hellhole,” he said and paused, looking her up and down a few times.

  A strand of the blond wig fell across one of her eyes. “What? You think I know something?”

  “I know you run in a lot of circles, and I know you’re one clever bitch, so yeah, maybe you do,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Sanchez, I run with the pits crews—they trust us even less than you guys. We’re the lucky ones that have more freedom out in the pits because we can survive. They hate us here, and I’m visible enough as a Grease Weasel that unless I’m incognito, everyone recognizes me. Why do you think we have our base of operations here by that god awful river? We need to stay away from the main population as much as possible,” she said.

  Sanchez gave a small, awkward laugh. “You’re right, I was just wondering if maybe you’d gathered some intel,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I was hoping you had more info—transmitters work for shit down by the river, and all I heard was that there was some kind of skirmish on the other end of the dome,” she said.

  He walked around the desk and took a seat in a much comfier looking office chair. Xero swiveled and dumped herself back into the uncomfortable metal contraption on her side.

  He folded his hands and rested his elbows against the table. “From the looks of things, it’s just another political uprising—like I said, they’ve been real restless lately. I’ve got work crews fragmented all over the place, which is why we’ve got so many of these goddamn idiot recruits all over the place at the base today. Don’t worry, we’ll have a few old timers on the convoy back to the Phoenix dome. Hey, speaking of which, where’s the rest of your crew?” he said.

  She sighed. “Oh, you haven’t heard? A few of my regulars are injured, and they had to stay behind on this mission. HQ approved a run with diminished staff, since we’re just heading out to Yuma. I’ve got one more guy that’s supposed to be on his way. We had a little trouble down by the waterfront last night, which I think is probably related to whatever this uprising is about. He’ll be along later after business is taken care of,” she said.

  Sanchez looked suspicious, but he nodded, and Xero was thankful he was willing to let it go. He was wise enough to know that some things were best left unexplained. She trusted the man, but only so far, and vice versa. He was still a dome drone, even if he was one of the better ones. The ones that came from the flats always had a little more perspective on just what it’s like to live life on the fringes, but in some ways they were still unstable—you never knew if they might turn on you when the time was right.

  He leaned back again and put his feet up on the desk. “Well Anastasia, your transformations never cease to amaze me,” he said. At one point he had seen her out in the pits, in her natural environment, in her normal clothing and make-up. He’d almost shat himself when he saw the florescent green Mohawk.

  She rolled her eyes. “You always have to call me that. You know I don’t go by that name anymore,” she said. A lot of the personnel only knew her official name, but she’d spent enough time in the trenches with Sanchez that it felt weird to have him call her that.

  He stretched his arms back farther over his head. “You know I have to go by the books around here. Can’t let them think we’re fraternizing or something like that,” he said and winked.

  “Right, heaven forbid,” she said sarcastically, but it really was a big problem. She was pretty sure they basically lopped off your dick in the decon process if you fucked anyone from the pits. He widened his eyes at her, partially in jest, but there was some genuine fear there.

  She smirked. “Don’t worry, I don’t kiss and tell,” she said.

  He put his feet back on the floor. “I know,” he said and paused. “Alright, enough of this chit chat. Let’s get this show on the road before any other shit hits the fan.”

  CHAPTER 6

  She was visibly more comfortable once they were out of the flats and back out in the wilds. Even though technically the air was worse, she was more accustomed to the particular mix of dust and pollution out in the pits, and there was another critical difference—everyone out there knew she was the boss, and you’d have to be completely stupid to fuck with her in her own territory.

  Sanchez was at the wheel of the black tactical vehicle, a full-face gas mask pulled over his head. “Yeah, you know these budget cuts are murder—we can’t even get the clearance to oxygenate and filter the whole cabin while we’re driving anymore. It’s total bullshit. You can barely see the road clearly with one of these things on,” he said over the mask’s intercom.

  Xero was wondering how much of it was budget cuts, and how much of it was dwindling resources. From the looks of the river running through the flats, shit was not going well on the environmental front. Maybe things would change in her lifetime after all.

  “You want me to drive?” she said.

  He scoffed. “Nah, I’ve gotten used to it, and my CO would have my head if he knew I surrendered a vehicle to a runner before being processed in the dome. Be thankful we won the fight to let you guys hang onto weapons prior to an actual supply run. We’ll be there shortly anyway,” he said.

  After too many expensive hunks of cargo had gone missing they had reevaluated
the weapons policy, and three years ago they’d finally agreed to let lasers get issued to the pit runners. It made runs that much more fun. Usually she only got to play with lasers when they were on illegal missions inside the dome where laser tracking was far less controlled. She loved new toys, especially ones that go boom.

  “Thanks for the weapons upgrade, by the by. I haven’t actually gotten my hands on one of these babies yet,” she said and patted the shiny white laser gun on her hip. “I bet this thing could smoke someone on the other side of the desert.”

  He nodded. “Fuck yeah! I don’t know how we can afford these new upgraded lasers when we can’t afford oxygen, but I’ll take it. Just be careful—they’re powerful enough that there’s actually some recoil on them, like the old six shooters,” he said.

  She smiled and leaned her head up against the window. “Won’t be a problem for me. I learned how to shoot with real weapons, long before these plastic things became the norm. Any true weapon’s specialist should know how to handle a real gun,” she said.

  “Damn right,” he said. “These kids nowadays get to cheat. Any bastard can pull off a half decent shot with some of these fancy lasers.” She had seen his skills with old school weapons, and he had the ability to back up his words with action. He wasn’t as good as she was, of course, but still, not bad. Good enough for her to trust him to cover her back in a firefight at least.

  The desert in this area was peaceful, but so barren that it made her sad. The saguaro cactus in this area hadn’t had enough time to recover and adapt properly to the influx of pollution like they had further south in the remains of the national forest. The lack of vegetation made for a very different desert than it was down in the Tucson pits where the cactus and Palo Verde had managed to grow and mutate in response to the environmental challenges. She usually just accepted how things were, but there was something about the destruction of her desert that hit home. Still, even through the insulated walls and tinted windows of the car, she could feel the heat of the desert reaching through the windows, and she smiled at being able to escape the chill sulfuric air of the flats.

  Her eyes were focused on finding the last bits of scrubby bushes clinging to small bits of the landscape when the back of the vehicle reared up and tipped them towards the windshield.

  “Fuck!” Xero said, cursing at herself for letting her guard down.

  The vehicle teetered on its nose for a few minutes before giving way to physics and completing its pitch forward. Thank god for seatbelts and safety cages. They landed upside down, but uninjured, and the vehicle seemed to be maintaining its shape under the weight of its own bulk.

  Without any further words, they looked at each other and jumped into action. They released their seatbelts and got to the new bottom of the vehicle with limited awkwardness and no injuries. The vehicle was sinking into the sand, wedging the door shut.

  “Watch your eyes,” Sanchez said, and fired a shot into the windshield. Safety glass sprayed around the interior of the car, and they scrambled out through the new opening in the glass. They assumed tactical positions on either side of the vehicle, and she was extremely happy that she had Sanchez with her instead of one of those idiot recruits. They knew how each other worked, and they knew that the other could be trusted to react properly in an attack. It was the next best thing to being with one of the Grease Weasels.

  There as another of the tactical vehicles wedged behind their toppled vehicle, and from the plates and government markings, she knew it was one of theirs. At first she thought perhaps it was just one of the new recruits not knowing how to drive through the thick sand, but when she saw a skeleton exit the driver’s side of the door, there was no doubt about what was happening. Hot sand seeped into her shoes, and she was immediately pissed off at her impractical attire. She kicked off the pumps and left them in the dust.

  She took aim with the new laser at the place where the skeleton’s Calaca suit had a flaw in the armor. It was only a miniscule gap—right at the joint between the throat and the clavicle notch. She squeezed the trigger, ready for the realistic recall that Sanchez had warned her about. Her shot hit its mark and the skeleton’s head exploded clean off its torso. Xero was a seasoned combat veteran, but the decapitation even took her by surprise. She’d never seen something like that from such a small laser. Sanchez hadn’t been kidding. This thing was probably strong enough to pierce a Calaca suit, albeit likely with far less dramatic effects than she’d just seen.

  Explosions rocked the desert and she dove for cover at the front of the vehicle. She slammed into Sanchez as he followed suit. Great minds think alike. Her stupid pencil skirt and restrictive jacket were getting in the way of her movements, so she stripped them off, leaving her wearing nothing but the white blouse and a pair of pink panties.

  “Don’t even start,” she said and gave Sanchez a look.

  He shrugged but kept two hands on his laser. “Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” he said.

  “What in the fuck is going on?” she asked. “Do you actually screen these guys before letting them go into the field?”

  Sanchez didn’t take his eyes off the area of the enemy, but she knew there would be exasperation smudged across his face. “This doesn’t have anything to do with my guys. Okay, so they weren’t prepared to deal with something like this, but I have no idea what’s going on with this attack. You know these guys?” he said.

  “Yeah, this is who we had a problem with earlier—skeletons from south of the Tucson pits. I have a sneaking suspicion they might have something to do with the riot that was holding everyone up this morning. FYI, their armor is pretty tough, but there’s a gap at the center of the throat. If you’ve got enough downward leverage and a sharp enough blade you should be able to pierce through it if you’re strong enough,” she said, thinking of her successful skewering the night before.

  “Duly noted,” he said and another explosion shook the ground.

  “I hope you weren’t too attached to any of these guys—doesn’t sound like there’s going to be much left of anyone. Hey—you got any hand to hand weapons on you?” she asked.

  He handed her two large KA-BAR style knives on a belt holster. Nice courtesy, considering she didn’t really have much in the way of a place to stow them. “Thanks man,” she said and secured the holster while he attempted to use his cracked communicator to radio a message into HQ.

  When she peered around the corner, she got a look at just how much trouble they were in. There weren’t many additional vehicles next to the remains of the decimated military convoy, but it looked like the skeletons must have come out of a clown car because there were dozens of them.

  “Shit,” Sanchez said when he noticed how much company they had. They briefly took their eyes off the enemy to consult about their next move.

  “I think our best bet is going to be taking out as many of those crazy fucks as possible, then taking that last intact vehicle and making a run for the dome. We’re not in a great position to fight them all off, and from the looks of it they’re not short on ballistics,” she said.

  He nodded. “Agreed. On three,” he said and counted.

  When he reached three they sprang into the battlefield and she was especially careful not to fire wildly with the high-powered laser. One shot from one of those things and it would be lights out for either of them, and she didn’t want her brains splattered across the desert like a ruined jack-o-lantern.

  There were five skeletons around their target vehicle and she took a dive roll to the left as the two on her side took pot shots. Luckily she was intimately familiar with the mechanics of fighting in sand, and she rolled straight back onto her feet. She took two shots, landing one in a skeleton’s chest, and the other nailed another headshot right in the money zone. She was rewarded with one exploding head and one skeleton brought to his knees. She closed the distance to the one that was still alive. He was coughing and gagging, but still waving around his laser. With her left hand she withdrew one of the KA-BAR blad
es and unceremoniously jammed it into the skeleton’s throat. Blood sprayed into her face, its sick metallic taste flying through her mouth and nose. She was glad she hadn’t talked to Calavera about closing up the weaknesses in the skeleton armor yet. Some days were all about the small favors.

  Withdrawing the knife, she wiped the blood out of her eyes and turned to face the next opponent. Sanchez had felled two on his side, leaving one more to take care of. The skeleton dashed up to her first, his laser raised for a head shot. There was no room to retreat, so she took the next best option. She bent her knees and sprang forward, tackling the skeleton into the sand and knocking its laser out of its hands in the process. As much as she loved firing a laser, there was nothing like a good old fashioned knife fight. Poised in the exact right position again, she took the knife and with one viscous strike she thrust it upward through the fragile spot in the armor. The knife ripped through its larynx, and she felt the knife jam into its hard palate before coming to a rest. It never even had a chance to scream.

  More Skeletons were already advancing from the rear, and Sanchez had already taken the opportunity to jump into the vehicle. The keys were already in the ignition, and the engine was running.

  “What are you waiting for, get in here!” he yelled.

  She took a running dash for the open door, and had almost made it when a sick thunk in her abdomen made her scream. Another skeleton had snuck up behind her, and had a knife blade stabbed up to the hilt just beneath her ribs on her right side. She turned to deal with the attacker, but he raised a laser and fired a shot past the side of her head. It landed with a small zap in Sanchez’s chest. From her angle she couldn’t tell if it had hit him squarely in the chest or further towards the shoulder.