Subject Nightingale 1: Birth and Death

by Tim Cody

  A hail of bullets erupted from their rifles, and all Nightingale could do was watch. There was no time to react, no time to dodge, she could only watch the bullets fly toward her body in slow motion. Her heart was pounding in her chest, beating in overtime, and she didn't even notice anymore when her nose began to pour blood. The bullets inched closer and closer; she could see them individually, and couldn't help but wonder which little piece of brass would be the one to bring a sudden and abrupt end to her life.

  “What the...hell?” one of the security team members said as their gunfire ceased.

  They were watching the bullets in slow motion, too.

  Several of them had slowed to the point where they stopped completely, floating in midair right before their eyes. Nightingale exhaled when she noticed the bullets—and then when she realized it wasn't just some effect that impending death had on a person, they began moving again.

  Most of them fell to the floor with quiet, spent little clinks!, a few continued their trajectory at soft-ball pitch speed and bounced off her body harmlessly, but a few resumed their full, natural speed. A few whizzed by her hair and severed a few strands, but one in particular struck her throat, and she felt her flesh torn. The brass burnt her skin, and the acrid stench of burning flesh filled her nostrils as she fell like a ton of bricks.

  “Contact right, contact right!” she heard someone yell as she laid on the floor, her failing sight staring up at the flickering tubes of light.

  The gunfire resumed as the ECHO squad from the stairwell stormed the hallway. One of the members fired his automatic rifle from the safety of corner cover, providing a base of cover fire while the other three crouched low and advanced into the hallway where Nightingale laid dying.

  “Contact down, confirmed kill!”

  A shotgun blast overpowered the sound of so many automatic rifles for just a moment. “Contact down, confirmed kill! Reloading!”

  Nightingale watched as one of the members of the ECHO squad kicked a steel gurney onto its side and crouched behind it. “We have an injured girl!” the squad member—a female with a Russian accent—shouted, and then began firing from behind her makeshift cover.

  “Focus on the guys with the guns for now!” a male voice shouted. “Two contacts still up!”

  Another shotgun blast rang through the hallway. “Contact down, confirmed kill!”

  “Reloading!” the man shouted. “Can anyone see Tommy!? Glitch squad, sound off! Jonny!”

  “Michaela!” the woman beside Nightingale shouted.

  “Theo!” another man shouted between shotgun blasts.

  There was just gunfire, and then the first man—Jonny—shouted again, “Tommy, dammit, sound off!”

  There was no response.

  “God dammit, where's Tommy!?”

  The gunfire came to an abrupt halt. The last enemy contact dropped his rifle and gurgled as blood poured from his throat, the skin sliced from ear to ear by a black-steel combat knife. The missing member of Glitch squad dropped the body and wiped the blood off on his pant leg.

  “Tommy. Contact down, confirmed kill. Area secure.”

  “God dammit, Tommy!” Jonny shouted as he let go of his rifle, letting it hang against his torso by its shoulder strap. “This renegade bull $#!% is gonna get you killed! Any one of us could've shot you!”

  “Calm down, we needed to clear these side rooms anyway.” He slipped his knife into a sheath attached to the shoulder of his tactical vest. “So I found a shortcut and flanked them, shouldn't you be commending me on a job well done?”

  “It is okay, little one,” Michaela said quietly, her voice soothing, as she set her rifle aside in exchange for a black kit with a red cross on it.

  “Is she gonna make it?” the man with the shotgun—Theo—asked as he approached Nightingale and the squad medic, reloading and then resting his gun on his shoulder.

  “She will be fine,” Michaela answered as she inspected Nightingale. “There is a lot of blood, but she appears mostly unharmed. She is just dazed.” She lifted her eyelids with her thumb and shone a penlight into her eyes to check her pupils. After that she removed a clean rag from her medical kit and began wiping the blood away from Nightingale's neck and face. “But where did it all come from?” she asked herself quietly as she worked.

  Nightingale shifted her eyes away from the bright light and shook her head. Now that the noise and commotion had settled down—now that her pounding headache and the pain in her neck had mostly passed—her vision was clearing up. She could hear the nightingale again. It chirped quietly and hopped onto Nightingale's chest, having been hiding in her hair.

  “It's that bird,” Theo said, crouching to get a closer look. “When's the last time I've seen one of them? It must've been years ago.” His dark skin was smudged with a bit of dust from the crumbling walls, which he wiped off his forehead with the back of his fingerless glove.

  “A bird is a very rare sight, little one,” Michaela said as she put her hand under Nightingale's back and helped her sit up. She was tan, her eyes dark blue, and her auburn hair was tied back in a thick, tight braid.

  The bird flapped its wings and landed on Nightingale's shoulder. She looked up at the two members of ECHO, and then at the other two—Jonny and Tommy—who had been arguing until a moment ago. Jonny walked over and let out a breath, shaking his head slowly in frustration. “Is she okay?” he asked.

  “She is fine, she is just in shock,” Michaela answered as she handed Nightingale a canteen.

  She unscrewed the lid and drank the water eagerly.

  “What are you doing here? What's your name?” Jonny crouched and looked Nightingale in the eye. His face bore similar markings of combat as the other's—soot, dust, and sweat, all of which had worked its way into his short brown hair to create a bit of an unkempt mess. He combed it flat with his fingers in an attempt to make himself appear a bit friendlier, but he could tell the girl was still frightened.

  “Nightingale...” she answered as she handed the canteen back.

  “Did she say Nightingale?” Tommy said accusingly as he approached, lifting his rifle suddenly and cocking the hammer back. He aimed square at her head, and Nightingale's eyes went wide.

  “Stand down, Tommy.” Jonny stood, immediately putting himself between Tommy's gun and the girl. “What the hell's gotten into you?”

  “There's a file on her in the dossier,” Tommy answered without lowering his weapon. “Check the report, California, Subject Nightingale.” His dark eyes and black hair offset his pale skin, and frightened Nightingale even further.

  She scooted back against the wall and huddled in the corner created by Michaela's makeshift cover, and the nightingale once again took up residence in her hair. It seemed to grow frightened along with her, and began to chirp worriedly.

  “I won't be checking anything until you lower your weapon!” Jonny raised his voice. “You're pointing a loaded weapon at your commanding officer. Stand down!”

  “Do not worry, little one,” Michaela whispered, “I will not let anyone harm you.”

  Tommy's lips twisted into a sneer as he uncocked and lowered his gun.

  Jonny lifted his forearm and peeled a piece of fabric off his sleeve to reveal a long, flexible touch-screen. He began quickly swiping through some screens until finding the file labeled Subject: Nightingale. Inside was a picture of the girl they had just discovered, and just a few pieces of information: her sex, approximate age, weight, and a brief note indicating her involvement in Doctor Metzger's unsanctioned experiments.

  “She's the reason we're here, California,” Tommy said, and then lifted his gun again. “Did you even read the file, or are you just rushing to wherever the Council throws your chew toy?”

  “I thought I told you to stand down, soldier,” Jonny said as he shut the screen off and covered it back up.

  “We have orders to terminate all experiments being conducted in this Lab,” Tommy stated simply.

  Jonny shook his head and turned
to face Nightingale. She was huddled in the corner and quivering, and Jonny didn't know what to do.

  “We have our orders,” Tommy reminded him.

  Jonny touched the elastic band that was fit snug around his throat, and his voice was suddenly carried into the earpieces all the members of his squad were wearing. “ECHO command, come in. This is Jonny California, Glitch squad.”

  “Loud and clear, Glitch squad,” a female dispatcher answered.

  “Command, we've located Subject Nightingale. Subject is a girl—she's just a child. Please advise.”

  “Your slash-and-burn orders stand. All Lab staff and experiments are to be terminated on sight.”

  “But she's just a kid,” Jonny said.

  “Your slash-and-burn orders stand, soldier.” The voice was firmer.

  Tommy's gun was trained on Nightingale, his finger on the trigger. Michaela was staring up at him and Jonny, her expression defiant as one hand crept to her sidearm and unclasped the holster. Theo eased his shotgun off his shoulder as the tension in the air thickened.

  “ECHO command, please repeat,” Jonny eventually said. “Your last two transmissions were garbled. We found a kid, please advise.”

  Tommy immediately cocked his rifle and prepared to fire on Nightingale, Michaela drew her pistol and put herself directly in the line of fire, and Theo cocked his shotgun and shoved the barrel into the space between Tommy's armpit and body armor. Jonny tore the band on his throat to sever communications with the command center, and turned to train his rifle on Tommy.

  “So this is it, huh?” Tommy said, eyeing the multiple barrels he suddenly found himself looking down. “Kinda %$#@!^ up odds for a Mexican standoff, don't you think?”

  “I'll only tell you one more time, Tommy,” Jonny said, his tone firm and their gazes locked. “Stand down.”

  “Come on, man,” Theo said when Tommy didn't answer, “I didn't sign up to kill kids.”

  “If you pull that trigger, it will be the last thing you ever do.” Michaela affirmed the rest of the squad's feelings. Her pistol was aimed at Tommy with one hand; she stared at him down the sights, her other arm around the frightened Nightingale.

  “Well, I'm clearly outnumbered here...” Tommy uncocked his rifle and dropped it, letting it hang by its shoulder strap, and lifted his hands.

  “You've got two options,” Jonny began, “you can either help us extract this girl, or you can get the hell out of my squad.”

  “Fine,” Tommy said, and began to back away from all the unfriendly guns. The others kept their sights on him the entire time, forming a barrier between Tommy and the girl. “I'll see you around, California.” Once the stairwell door at the other end of the hall slid open, he grabbed his gun and cocked it again. “Maybe even around these halls.” With those final words, the door slammed shut, and Tommy was gone.

  Jonny shook his head and lowered his gun. He turned to address the rest of his squad, looking between Michaela and Theo. “How about you two? Let's be clear—we're directly defying the Council, so no hard feelings if you wanna jump ship with Tommy.”

  Theo shook his head. “The files didn't say anything about the experiments being people—let alone kids.”

  Michaela holstered her sidearm and attached her medical kit to the back of her belt; it secured with a quiet mechanical zip! and then she stood, taking Nightingale by the hand and helping her to her feet. “I promised this child I would protect her,” she said as she retrieved her rifle from the floor, and slipped its strap back around her chest, “and I will keep my promise.” She looked down at Nightingale and smiled, and Nightingale couldn't help but smile back.

  She felt safe with Michaela. The bird came out of hiding, perching itself on her shoulder again. “Thank you,” she said, looking between the three remaining members of Glitch squad.

  “Don't thank us yet,” Jonny said. “Tommy's too clever to let himself get killed by building security. Once he meets up with another ECHO squad, we're gonna be fighting against security and ECHO.”

  “We'd better get moving,” Theo said. “We need to find another secure location so we can route our way out.”

  “Floor twenty-five should still be clear,” Jonny said as he started toward the stairwell they entered the floor through. “We'll be able to hunker down for a few minutes and regroup. Let's move out.”

  Jonny took point and Theo nodded for Michaela and Nightingale to go next. Theo wasn't far behind, covering their rear as Jonny led them to the stairs.

  Nightingale was thankful for the help, but was still pretty frightened. She still had little to no idea what was going on, but she needed to focus on getting out of this war zone first. As she walked right next to Michaela, she placed her hand on her neck where she could have sworn a bullet had pierced her. She didn't feel so much as a scratch, though; there was still some sticky blood, but no wound.

  “What is the matter, child?” Michaela asked when she noticed her troubled expression. “Aside from the obvious, of course.”

  Nightingale just shook her head. “Nothing... I just wanna get out of here...”

  Chapter 4

  The Man with the (Pretty Crappy) Plan

  Jonny led his squad and Nightingale to the east stairwell, where they had originally entered the floor. A three-foot black crowbar had been jammed between the automatic door and the threshold, low to the ground, to keep the malfunctioning door open. Jonny entered the stairwell first, aiming his rifle up and down the stairs, and then over the handrail to look down several flights.

  “We're clear,” he confirmed, and then everyone else filed in.

  Theo crouched down to grab his crowbar once everyone was through. It collapsed at his touch, shrinking down to a six-inch rod, and the thick steel door began to ease shut with a bit of effort. It spewed sparks and screeched as it painfully sealed itself. He slipped the collapsed crowbar back into the small pouch attached to his belt, and Jonny waved for everyone to follow him downstairs.

  The three members of Glitch squad stuck close to the wall, and Nightingale stuck close to Michaela. She went so far as to only step where she stepped, but got so caught up in the precision of her own footing it took her a whole few seconds to realize that the entire stairwell had started to rumble. She bumped right into Michaela when the squad stopped to hunker down, and then followed suit once she realized what was going on.

  “Is the building falling down?” Nightingale asked the first question that crossed her frightened mind, and the bird on her shoulder chirped worriedly in response. She put one hand on Michaela's back and flattened herself against the wall, watching nervously as trails of cement dust fell from the upper levels.

  “No,” Jonny answered, “but it sounds like the fight's getting hotter the higher up ECHO goes.”

  “Sounds like good news for us,” Theo said. “If it gets bad enough, Command will begin redirecting squads topside. Should make for some smooth sailing for a couple of guys trying to sneak a kid outta this place.”

  Once the rumbling settled down, Jonny waved his squad forward again. “Let's keep moving. Theo, get your bar ready.”

  Theo retrieved the crowbar from its pouch as they neared the 25th floor. He clenched the short rod in his fist and gave it a quick and sudden shake, and it extended from either end with a quiet mechanical buzz. Jonny flattened against the wall to the door's left and pointed his gun down the stairs, while Michaela covered the stairs up and to the right. Nightingale stayed behind Michaela, while Theo grabbed his crowbar in both hands and heaved the flat end into the narrow space between the door and the threshold.

  “Why are we stopping here?” Nightingale whispered. “Why don't we just keep going down?”

  Jonny shook his head, keeping his sights trained on the stairs. “There are a hundred different ECHO squads securing this building right now. We need to regroup and figure out where they are so we can avoid them.”

  Theo clenched his teeth and strained as he pushed on the thick end of the crowbar, failing to force the
door open. “It's jammed worse than before,” he said between attempts, panting for breath as he spent nearly all his energy trying to pry it open.

  “Give me room,” Jonny said as he dropped his rifle and stood beside Theo. Together they leaned their full body weight into the crowbar, but the door still didn't budge.

  “Did you try the emergency handle?” Nightingale asked as she watched the two struggle.

  “Thanks for the suggestion,” Theo said between breaths, “but yeah. The whole building's locked down, the doors have to be forced open.”

  “But it worked earlier,” Nightingale said.

  Theo grabbed the emergency handle and gave it a few quick tugs to show Nightingale that it wasn't working. “What are we gonna do?” he asked Jonny.

  Jonny let out a breath and rested his arms on the crowbar jammed horizontally in the door. “We've gotta find somewhere to sit for a minute. Do we know if any other floors are clear at the moment?”

  Nightingale stepped away from Michaela and put herself between Theo and the door. She bumped into him when she reached for the emergency handle, and he looked down at her.

  “I told you it's not gonna work, you just saw for yourself.”

  “I wanna try myself.” She grabbed the red handle and gave it a firm tug, and same as before, the large steel door began sputtering sparks and slowly opening. “See?” She stepped back over to Michaela and looked up at Theo and Jonny.

  “Well I'll be,” Theo said as he caught his crowbar when the door released it. He collapsed it and stowed it. “I guess you've got the magic touch, kid.”

  “Michaela, help us out,” Jonny ordered when the door stopped after about a foot.

  He grabbed its edge and braced his foot against the threshold, and Theo and Michaela each grabbed the edge as well.

  “Pull!”

  The three of them pulled with all their strength, collectively holding their breath and straining as they managed to slowly force the door open a few more feet. When they let go, it didn't begin to close on its own like before—whatever internal security mechanism controlled it must have been broken after so many forced openings.