Under Dark Sky Law

by Tamara Boyens

  “Um,” he said as though he was unsure about giving up important details to a potentially psychotic pit dweller wielding dual knives over a pile of dead bodies. She couldn’t imagine what might have him rattled.

  “In case you missed the memo, I’m the one who’s supposed to be under protection here, so you can stop shitting your pants, lower your laser, and let me know if you have the hallway secured or not,” she said, leaving her arms raised until he stopped looking so twitchy.

  He hesitated again. “There’s no one in the hallway. It’s secure,” he said.

  She hissed air loudly through her teeth. “Fuck, you moron. Get back out there and secure the hallway. We’ve got a pile of bodies in here if you hadn’t noticed,” she said. She was all out of patience for baby sitting and political games. Once blood started flowing she didn’t care where she was, she was back to doing things pit style. Get busy killing or get busy dying. The dome fucks had no idea what kind of raw brutality lay outside their little Stepford microhabitats, and it really showed in these snotty little recruits. They needed to be out in the field for awhile, torn down, and built back up again before they were worth anything.

  He started to say something, but then coughed and fell forward. She was expecting to see another server, dressed in those tacky whites behind the solider, but it was a skeleton in full gear plunging a knife deep into the recruit’s low back. Before the skeleton had a chance to retrieve its weapon, she tossed one of her knives at the sweet spot, towards the gap in the armor. The hasty toss had its consequences, and she missed. It hit the skeleton in the upper chest, and though it looked like she’d pierced the armor, she definitely hadn’t landed a killing or even disabling shot. The recruit flopped forward, his arm dashing against the toilet on the way down. The laser case cracked and ricocheted into the whirlpool tub. Damaged lasers and water didn’t mix. The tub lit up with a bright flash of electricity, a loud pop echoed in the tiled room, and the smell of burning meat filled the air. Skeleton soup, anyone?

  Most decent lasers were at least water resistant—wouldn’t do to be caught in a rainstorm and end up frying yourself. But if you damaged the casing, all bets were off. Most newer weapons were extraordinarily difficult to break with typical forces, but apparently the military was outfitting their trial recruits with shitty weapons in addition to shitty training. She’d seen more than one black market laser blow up in someone’s hands, so it wasn’t that surprising. It was another reason she wasn’t all that sad lasers were prohibited in the pits.

  They were both distracted by the frying flesh in the bathtub, but Xero recovered first. Trying to keep the element of surprise on her side, instead of retreating further towards the back of the bathroom, she took the offensive, leaping over the fallen Private that was moaning and bleeding on the floor. This move sacrificed her unarmed left hand that came up to protect her face as she raised it to simultaneously strike and block with. The skeleton’s knife sliced across her forearm and into the meat of her bicep before the force of her fist sent it clattering away. An expected consequence, but she knew it wouldn’t be a lethal hit. When they hit the floor with a thud, Xero landed on top of the skeleton, straddling its waist. With the remaining knife in her left hand she sunk the blade in the damaged armor chest segment and drove it in to the hilt. The skeleton screamed, and as she twisted the blade its cries scaled up in pitch before coming to a gurgling stop. From the tone of the screams, she realized that this one was a girl. It was hard to judge gender and body shapes under the bulky armor.

  She wasn’t sure if the bitch was dead yet, but she was no longer a threat, which was good enough for Xero. Out in the hallway she heard more shouting. It wasn’t nearly over yet. For all she knew, the whole hotel was under siege. Fine by her. She was ready for a battle.

  Taking the pause in the action as an opportunity to make a field dressing, she collected her knives again and used the extra absorbent hotel towels to clean off some of the blood. Once the blades were free from most of the blood, she used them to shred strips from one of the clean towels. Using her left hand and her mouth she managed to make a sloppy but adequate bandage around the gashes in her right arm. Some blood was still dripping through, but she would live, and almost as importantly, she could still use both hands. She collected the fallen skeleton’s knife holster and used it to store the extra knife that she’d knocked out of her hand.

  “Anastasia!” someone called from the hallway, and repeated the call when she didn’t answer the first time. She recognized the voice on the second call.

  “I’m in here,” she called. “Got three rogues and one of your rookies down.”

  “Are you injured?” Stone asked.

  “Lacerated arm, but it’s not critical. Field dressing has been applied. I’m armed with three combat knives collected from assailants. What’s the status out there?” she said.

  “Hotel was hit by enemy combatants—they infiltrated staff and used the penetration to allow fully armored attackers into the building. We have the outside of the building on lockdown so no further enemy soldiers can enter. We’re in the process of sweeping the building for any remaining infiltrates. Care to give us a hand?” he said.

  She finished cleaning herself up and cautiously approached the hallway. Stone and Avery were covering both entrances, lasers drawn and ready.

  “You bet your ass. You got a spare laser you can toss me?” she asked.

  Without taking his eyes off the doorway, Avery smiled. “If anyone asks, you stole it off one of the raiders,” he said and tossed an extra laser in her direction.

  Remembering how easily the last one shattered, she made sure to catch it carefully. It looked like a much nicer model than the defective one that was probably still busy zapping the dead skeleton in the bathtub, but it was definitely a few rungs down in quality from the other laser she’d gotten her hands on from Sanchez back out in the desert.

  “You know how to use one of those things? Stone asked. He turned briefly, just long enough to wink at her.

  “I’m pretty sure I can figure it out,” she said. “I’ve been around the block a time or two.”

  “We’ll start from this floor and clear our way down to the ground level. You able to go the distance with that arm? We could use another pro on our side, but we don’t need no one dropping on us in the middle of a firefight,” he said, all seriousness.

  “You can count on me. It’ll take more than this scratch to drop me,” she said.

  Stone set his jaw and nodded. “Good. Let’s get this party started.”

  CHAPTER 10

  “You motherfuckers!” Xero yelled. “You pig sucking sons of fucking bitches!”

  To say she was pissed would have been an understatement. She wanted to scream and yell at them about how she was the head of a major territory, that she was one of the biggest crime bosses in he country, and if she felt like it, she could have had an army of goons busting into their dome that would be so nasty, it would make the skeleton attacks look like stupid child’s play. However, that wouldn’t have really served her case.

  The cell smelled like rotten piss and lingering shit stains. It was the city’s most maximum security prison, but it was so seldom used or cleaned that it smelled as bad as some of the detention facilities in the pits. She supposed that she should have been flattered that they had taken her to such a place instead of underestimating how dangerous she was—she had to give them credit for recognizing that. Although seeing as how she’d probably killed in upwards of twenty people in the last few days, all of them on the record, it wasn’t exactly a guess on anyone’s part.

  An overweight female security guard came and banged on the bars. “Hey! Keep it down, or you’re getting sent to the pit,” she said. She had short red hair that peeked out under the bottom of her uniform hat. You could tell this wasn’t an oft inspected facility just from looking at her sloppy uniform and grooming standards. This never would have passed muster at one of the uptown prisons.

  “Bitch, di
d you even read my file, I AM the pit,” she said and charged the bars, wedging her thin face far enough through the narrow space that it ended up a few inches from the security guard’s nose.

  The woman stepped back suddenly and almost lost her balance. She blushed and tried to recover, but Xero just laughed at her, keeping her flustered. So much incompetence. It felt damned good to let all her pent up frustration fly, but it was also solving a purpose. Putting the guard on edge, scaring the shit out of security would give Xero an advantage if it got to the point where she needed to break out of the prison and get the hell out of dodge. She couldn’t believe it. After clearly being marked as a hit for whoever was running the rogue skeletons, they decided to toss her in the slammer for the night. For her own protection and for holding until the investigation over the incidents at The Niagara were thoroughly inspected. It’s not like she’d had a lot of respect for anyone running the dome anyway, but now she was just infuriated.

  Avery and Stone were also being held for questioning, but at a military justice facility in another part of town. It was partially her fault—she didn’t think they’d found any connection between the tech equipment left in her room and her two new buddies, but just by virtue that they’d been caught running around firing lasers with an unauthorized pit dweller was enough to throw them under the bus. Xero was allowed to carry firearms, but only outside the dome while on official cargo runs. Of course no one could stop long enough to pull their head out of their ass to realize that it was an unconventional situation, but policy was policy. Always policy with these fucks.

  Not knowing what was happening to Avery and Stone was probably for the best—it would only make her more pissed off. None of this would have happened in the first place if they’d actually taken the time to train their fucking personnel. It filled her with rage to know that as a single person she could probably run their system with her little group of Grease Weasels better than the entire squadron of idiots they had fucking around there. Sure she made mistakes, but by and large she kept her shit under control. Meanwhile, the few good eggs like Avery and Stone got shat on for violating stupid rules that made no sense. It was enough to make her want to burn all the domes to the ground and be done with them once and for all.

  The guard had finally righted herself, and she came forward to bend down in front of the cell to pick up a set of keys that she’d dropped when Xero startled her. Dropping to her knees, Xero made a ludicrous face and said, “Boo!” at top volume.

  The security guard fell on her ass and rocked back and forth like humpty dumpty. Xero cackled, and she just let loose the strain of the whole evening, allowing the cackle to turn into giggles, and then uncontrollable laughter. It was a little over the top even for her theatrics, but she couldn’t help it. When she’d finally gotten control of her laughter again, she wiped tears out of her eyes, stifled a few residual chuckles, and came back to a standing pose. The guard had finally managed to get up again too, and she stood a safe distance from the bar, red-faced and clenched fisted.

  The guard bit her lip, her face wrinkled and pinched with restrained emotions. She brushed debris and dirt off her already soiled uniform and walked another foot closer to the cell, but still not close enough for Xero to snag her through the bars.

  “You’re going to regret this,” the guard said through a tight mouth.

  Xero crossed her arms. “Lady, there’s nothing you can do that I’ve not already done to myself,” she said.

  The guard smiled wryly. “We’ll see about that,” she said and walked back to the guard station that was almost as piss-scented and filthy as the cells themselves.

  CHAPTER 11

  She sat on a soft couch upholstered in rich grey suede. It felt nice to run her hands over its cool surface, but she realized that she was leaking blood from poorly tended wounds, and it was leaving unsightly stains on the lush leather. What a shame.

  “Sorry about your couch,” Xero said, holding up a hand to examine the blood seeping through her bandages. “I can pay for it, if you like.”

  The man behind the heavy mahogany desk leaned on his elbows, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. “That’s an interesting offer, don’t you think?” he said.

  She ran a barefoot toe over the short industrial carpet that matched the couch in color but not in price point. “You haven’t been in this office long, have you? Haven’t had a chance to replace the carpet?”

  The man smiled and pushed square rimless glasses farther up his nose with one hand and went back to resting his head against his closed fists. “You’re right—I just moved into this office a few weeks ago. Do you like it?” he said.

  She looked around and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” she said honestly. It was all dark wood, soft grey tones, suede, and shelves of books. A large window looked out over the city below.

  “It reminds you of your own office, doesn’t it, Xero?” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, evaluating the situation, trying to decide how to play this. Her pits name wasn’t a secret, but no one would know it if they hadn’t been digging.

  “We don’t really have offices in the pits,” she said.

  “I think we both know that’s not what I mean,” he said. He leaned backwards in his suede office chair and folded his hands behind his head, waiting.

  Xero could play the waiting game too. It had been a long night, and she wasn’t fired up to engage in another round of political dancing. There’d been just about enough waltzing for one weekend.

  After a few minutes of silence, with nothing but the clock ticking and Xero’s blood dripping slowly onto the suede, he leaned forward again. He stroked his meticulously groomed goatee, opened his mouth to speak, but paused again, reaching under his desk instead.

  “Would you like me to help you clean up your wounds a bit better? I saw in your chart that they didn’t send you back to medical after the incident at The Niagara or after being assaulted in the jail last night,” he said and smiled wryly. “Not that I needed a chart to see that.”

  She crossed her arms, smearing blood across the same black shirt she had been wearing from the day before. Good thing she’d chosen a black shirt. If it had been white, it would have been smeared with blood stains. “Yeah, funny how you can be queen for a day and then you’re back to dog shit the next,” she said.

  “You’ve experienced that a lot, and it makes you angry,” he said.

  Xero threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t try the psychobabble on me buddy,” she said and narrowed her eyes. “I think we both know two can play at that game.”

  She was developing black eyes that were beginning to settle in for the long haul. Too bad, she’d just gotten rid of the last one after the rapid healing sequence. Nothing pissed her off more than getting tagged in the face, but considering the snake pit she’d been tossed in, she got off pretty easy. Ten guys in a maximum unit, all pretty satisfied with the idea of gang raping her. She may have gotten a couple more knife slices and a few shiners, but some of them were leaving without their balls.

  He smiled back at her. “Good to know we’re on the same page, Dr. Pietrovich,” he said and motioned to the medical kit that he’d spread out across his desk. “Between the two of us we should be able to keep you from ruining anymore couches, don’t you think?”

  She cocked her head. “Yeah, I think we can probably manage,” she said.

  He leaned over the network of supplies and made eye contact with her. “That is, unless you’d prefer that I sent you back to a proper medical facility,” he said.

  “No thank you,” she said. “At least not in this city. You know, I have this nagging feeling that I shouldn’t have even been released to this office.”

  “You’re right. You stirred up some real trouble back in the jail. It took a bit of convincing to have you released for a psych eval so soon. I have a good track record of working with violent offenders, though. It wasn’t hard to convince someone to release you into my care. Is there
a reason you felt compelled to make your situation even harder?” he said.

  “You mean why did I mess with the guards and put myself in a situation where I had to assault several other prisoners?” she said.

  “Yes, that. Before you would have only needed to pass a security investigation about the incidents at The Niagara. Now you need a psych clearance from someone like me,” he said.

  “I think it was worth it. In the end, they won’t be able to do anything about it, unless you decide to screw me over. The military violated policy by sending me to jail without making sure my wounds were tended to first, the guard violated policy by tossing a female into a cell full of violent sex offenders, and policy was violated again when I was denied medical attention a second time after fighting them off,” she said. “I may have injured and killed a lot of people in the last few days, but it was all in self defense, and I saved the lives of dozens of political figures and military personnel. They owe me.”

  He nodded. “I see. You like it when you’re able to get someone to break their own rules,” he said.

  “Rules were meant to be broken. It’s funny when someone that thinks their rules are so sacred, but then breaks them so easily. I’m sure you know a little something about that,” she said.

  The fingers of his left hand tapped lightly on the desk. “I just might,” he said simply.

  “What did you say your name was again?” she asked.

  “I didn’t actually—you interrupted me when I tried to introduce myself,” he said.

  She was having a little bit of trouble letting go of the “Xero” attitude. There was just a different way of getting things done in the pit, and it didn’t exactly work the same way in the domes. Of course, doing things that way was more fun, but it also had more than it’s fair share of repercussions. Part of it was frustration, part of it was just not giving a fuck, and part of it was just survival instinct. Xero could survive in places that Anastasia just couldn’t. She’d collected enough bruises and stab wounds for one week though, and she had people on the line. Trina was slowly dying and Argon was missing in action. There’d been enough dicking around. Time to take shit seriously, swallow some hard pills, stop fucking up, and get back on the road.