Wastes of Space

by Darcy Town

  Two rows of soldiers in full riot gear formed a human shield between the stage and the media that focused their cameras on Rake and his father. Rake smiled for the reporters; he blew kisses, evoking a few laughs.

  His father stood before a podium, pausing in his speech for dramatic effect. Rake glared at him and spat in his general direction. Ha, let the media catch that one. The President grimaced.

  Guards shoved Rake to the middle of the stage where a metal ring stood out of the floor. They pushed him to his knees and locked his handcuffs onto the ring.

  Rake pulled at his cuffs, but he had no slack. He couldn’t stand up or lean back to sit down. He was going to die on his knees, nice.

  Rake looked through the crowd. He did not see a single familiar face, not even the Hunter. He was alone with the rest of the world watching. He turned to his father and yelled, “Is this a display of your ruthlessness? You’ll kill even your own son! Is that your message to the world?” He looked to the cameras. “Killing me doesn’t really prove much when you hate me.”

  The President smiled as a gag went into Rake’s mouth. He cleared his throat and went back into his speech. “With the year two thousand and eight coming to a close I seek to usher in a new peace, an American peace.”

  ***

  Tasanee listened to her radio and punched Marx in the arm. “They have him on stage! Hurry up already!”

  Marx spoke calmly, “I am working on it as fast as I can, little rat.”

  The pair were holed up inside a small concrete building that shared a wall with the amphitheater. There was one room left to clear and it was locked, the door solid steel. In that room were the sole controls of the automatic guns that would blast Rake to pieces once his father gave the signal. The hallway leading to the room was decorated with dead soldiers, dispatched with a mix of broken necks and sliced arteries, a team accomplishment.

  Marx snarled in frustration. He put his teeth to the lock, bit down, and pulled. He broke the teeth on one side of his jaw, but the lock was snapped. He spit metal and bone. He wrenched the door open. “Go! I will watch for reinforcements.”

  Tasanee slipped inside. Two men looked up from radioing for help. Tasanee had cut out communications before her and Marx had set foot in the building, so their messages did them no good. The men saw her injury and looked past her, confused. They saw she was alone and smiled. One man ran at her, using his keyboard as a weapon.

  Tasanee jumped to the side and kicked him in the ribs, sending him stumbling into the door.

  The other man left the radio. He tried to grapple with her. She used his lunge to evade his attack. She kicked his legs out from under him and flipped him onto the other man, knocking both to the ground.

  Marx darted in and slit both of their throats.

  Tasanee ignored their gurgling gasps and rolled out her equipment on their desk. She looked over her screens. “Bad ass!” She packed her stuff back up and slung her bag over her shoulder.

  Marx licked his bloody fingers. “What?”

  “I don’t even have to hack in. Those stupid fucks didn’t lock their computers.” Tasanee keyed into the controls and turned the guns from automatic to manual. She fiddled with the toggles and moved the guns that were aimed at Rake. She raised them to point above the stage at the American Empire snipers that walked along the outer wall of the amphitheater. The guys up there would be the biggest problem for Danny and Kennedy when shit got real.

  Tasanee scanned the crowd through the display monitors. “I don’t see Kennedy or Danny anywhere.”

  Marx kicked off his shoes and looked at the screens. “Should I go down myself?” He pulled off white silk socks to reveal his feet. A thick maroon hook curled out from his heel, the talon curved and rested on the floor. Marx’s four toes were padded and had smaller claws similar to the heel hook. He cracked his ankles. He stepped up on his talons and came back down silently. He caught Tasanee staring. “Is something the matter, little rat?”

  “You have...” She couldn’t help but say it, “Freaking cool feet.”

  He smiled. “Why thank you.”

  A soldier rushed into the room. Marx dislocated his hip, swung his leg around, and tore open the man’s chest with his foot. His toes curled around the man’s ribs and his heel hook swung shut like a latch, locking his foot in place. Marx let go with his hands and the man remained upright. “Neat, yes?”

  Tasanee nodded. “I bet you can climb with those. Or hang upside down.”

  “Of course.” Marx warmed at her expression of interest. He kicked the corpse off his foot.

  Tasanee shook her head and looked back to the screens. She turned the volume up to listen as the President prattled on. “At least he’s long-winded.”

  She zoomed in on Rake’s face. He glared at his father with unhidden hatred. Tasanee rubbed her neck and pulled out to view the crowd. “Where is Danny? The back-up soldiers will fire on him when my guns don’t.”

  “They’ll be there.” Marx stepped out into the hall to keep watch.

  ***

  Danny worked his way through the media crowd in the amphitheater. He and Kennedy had gotten in easier than he’d thought with their faked media badges. They had split at the entrance, each taking a different side and route towards the stage. Danny was on edge, expecting to be expected. Kennedy was gleeful; he was going to kill things regardless of what happened next.

  Danny looked up to the automatic guns, then to the control booth set at the back of the amphitheater. He hoped Tasanee had made her way in already. From this angle, he couldn’t tell which way the guns pointed. There was no commotion near the building, so in or not no one had lived to spread the word.

  Danny and Kennedy pushed to within a few rows of the line of soldiers. Kennedy looked over and grinned. The Hunter wore a hat, his braid curled up underneath it so that he looked like a tourist. Danny turned his gaze to Rake. Rake had been hurt; he was bruised, and a burn marred his cheek. Despite that, his eyes were sharp. He was lucid and clearly ticked off.

  Danny unsheathed two knives, synthetic and able to make it past security scanners. He ran a finger along the ultra sharp blades. Rake was like his son. He fixed his gaze on President Arvrington. That man had never deserved to have kids as talented as Rake and Sammy. The President only had eyes for the cameras. He smiled and gestured to Rake, making a point about policy.

  Danny counted a team of four Secret Service men on the stage with the President. The guards that had ushered out Rake had pulled back into the prison. Men walked the perimeter above the stage in teams of two. If Tasanee was in control, then those would not be a concern of his. He had to trust that she was in control.

  The rows of soldiers between the media and Rake were his primary concern. He had to stop them and keep their attention until he or Kennedy could get onstage to free Rake. He was not depending on a successful rescue of Ravil. He had severe doubts about her so-called abilities. He was going to do this and assume he would get no help from anyone else.

  The President came to his conclusion. Rake strained towards his father, angry and trying to fight to the end. The President gave the signal to fire. The guns whirred to life. Rake flinched and closed his eyes.

  Shots fired. Ten men fell from the perimeter above, dead before they landed around Rake. Rake looked from the left to right in shock.

  The soldiers in front of Danny turned to gaze at the bodies in confusion. Danny didn’t wait for Kennedy. He pushed through the last line of media and sliced at soldiers. The crowd of media broke into confusion, some stayed and filmed, others ran for the exits. Screams of panic and orders from soldiers mixed into a wall of noise.

  This was enough of a sign for Kennedy. The Hunter leapt on the first row of soldiers and sank his teeth into skulls. He cracked bones with howls of glee. He ripped off his gloves and slashed with random swipes. Blood sprayed him in the face. He hadn’t had this much fun since the raid on the hospital.

  Rake looked on with a surprised half-smile on his face.
He went completely unnoticed, but bullets zipped by at random. He sank to the floor to keep as low as physically possible. He watched Danny and the other Hunter, one he didn’t recognize. The two called to one another, working together. Rake didn’t know what that meant, but he was glad for it.

  The guards that had ushered Rake onto the stage ran out of the holding area and jumped past him into the crowd of dying soldiers. Several stayed behind guarding him. Rake glared at his father; were they there to save him so that they could kill him in a few minutes? Typical.

  The automatic guns went off a second time, taking down men that had run up to the rooftop perimeter after the first wave. More bodies fell like fruit, hitting the stage with wet thumps. Rake looked at the corpses and their golf ball sized bullet holes appreciatively; he knew those rounds were originally meant for him.

  Soldiers rushed toward the control booth. At the door to it, something moved in a blur and threw men as fast as they could reach the small building.

  The automatic guns shifted and their new target was obvious. The President threw his hands up. Secret Service keyed into security controls to raise a large bulletproof shield along the edge of the stage, protecting their area from gunfire. The automatic rifles blasted against the shield to no effect besides noise.

  President Arvrington looked to Rake. “They won’t be able to get you, Drake. You’re going to see your friends die.”

  ***

  Tasanee concentrated fire on the President. “Fucker! Die!”

  Marx was thrown through the door and hit the back of her chair. His copper hair smoldered and his skin smoked. He wiped his bloody nose as his wounds healed. “I intensely loathe those electricity devices your people use.”

  Tasanee sent another burst of fire towards the perimeter and abandoned her controls. She ripped wiring out below the computer and disengaged the entire system. “I’m ready to leave.”

  Marx nodded and dove out the door into the hallway. He was met with a barrage of gunfire. He kicked off the wall, briefly holding onto the ceiling tiles before crashing into the bulk of the men that had stormed their building. He lashed at everything around him, spraying blood in a ring.

  Tasanee slid after Marx; using the confusion the Hunter created to weave around soldiers. She had never really learned much hand-to-hand combat, but she was proficient at beating people with sticks. She grabbed the mop she’d discarded earlier and smashed it into eye sockets, windpipes, and crotches.

  Three men leapt on Marx, getting his hands behind his back. They secured cuffs. “Stand down!”

  Marx dislocated his shoulders, flipped them to the front, and turned into a roundhouse kick. His talons made short work of their throats. He held his arms out and sliced through the ties with his feet. Hands freed, he smiled and checked over Tasanee. “Come, little rat!” He tore off his shirt for ease of flexibility. “We hunt together now!”

  Tasanee stared at the Hunter’s green spots and raced after him. He burst out of the building and pounced on men and women streaming past the booth. He bit and kicked, not caring if he attacked soldiers or civilians.

  Tasanee kept her head low and looked towards the stage. “Marx! There’s some kind of barrier up around the whole thing! They won’t be able to get to Rake!”

  Marx looked up. “Kennedy will have to deal with it.”

  A man leveled a shotgun at Tasanee and fired. Marx threw himself in front of her, taking her to the ground as the blast grazed his side. Tasanee’s face was flecked with Hunter blood. Marx snarled and leapt at the soldier, taking an arm off in one smooth motion. He roared at the crowd, sending dozens fleeing in panic.

  Tasanee spat out Marx’s blood and wrapped her arm around his midsection. “Can you walk?”

  Marx nodded. “I am fine, my skin is already healing you see, it is not a bad wound.”

  She looked from him to the chaos on the stage. “We’re supposed to bolt, but I think we need to help them out.”

  Marx smiled, enjoying her touch. “I agree.”

  ***

  Kennedy leapt at the clear shield and climbed, his padded feet found purchase where no others could. He grinned. “I get you! I get you!”

  President Arvrington gaped at the climbing Hunter. “You cannot attack me! We have treaties with the Empire!”

  Kennedy pointed at Rake. “You take prey! Life is forfeit. I come to eat your flesh raw!”

  Men in the crowd fired at Kennedy’s back. Bullets hit him in the shoulders. He jumped back down and dove into bodies to hide, ripping the bullets out of his flesh, annoyed with the delay.

  Rake watched Danny take a shot to the neck. He strained against his bonds. “Danny!” Rake worked the gag out of his mouth. “Hunter! Danny has gone down!”

  Kennedy heard, and tore through bleeding and broken men. He leapt on Danny and lashed out with clawed feet, dispatching those around him. Kennedy tore off his hat and shirt. His braid came loose and wrapped around Danny’s hands. He pulled the unconscious man to him. Kennedy put his mouth to Danny’s wound, clotting the blood with his saliva.

  Soldiers neared the pair. Rake shouted, “Get him out of here!”

  Kennedy nodded. His braid unraveled and wrapped around Danny’s shoulders and his own, moving Danny to his back. Kennedy shifted his hips and bolted, carrying Danny with him. Rake breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God for that.”

  The click of gun safeties went off. Rake looked over his shoulder to his guards. “Hi.”

  Ravil flashed into the air above their heads in a burst of light. She flailed and landed on his back. The guards took a step back in shock. Ravil scrambled off him. “Rake!”

  “Took you long enough!”

  Ravil grabbed hold of his shoulder. She looked at the chaos around her. “Where to?”

  “Danny’s?”

  Ravil concentrated and hooked a finger. She pulled at the air and nothing happened. A bullet tore through her shoulder, knocking her back into the clear shield. She touched her wound surprised, mostly about not being able to leave. She looked at Rake, then to his handcuffs. “You’re in gold too.” Pain set in as blood pumped out. The guards took aim at her. Her red eyes went wide. “Fuck.”

  President Arvrington shouted from his hiding spot, “Do not shoot her! Shoot Rake!”

  The guards changed their target and fired.

  Ravil threw out her hand and the bullets disappeared in the air. She flicked her wrist and they reappeared going the opposite direction, hitting the guards that shot them. She jumped to her feet as blood ran down her shoulder in a steady stream. “Rake, I can’t operate with gold.” She fell on him. “I can’t get you out. They planned for this.”

  Rake pulled on his handcuffs, but the metal wouldn’t give. “Fuck! Ravil, get out of here! You’re hurt!”

  “They’ll kill you!”

  “You need medical attention before you bleed out!”

  The last guard alive fired his gun. The bullet missed Rake, and skimmed Ravil’s stomach, burning, but not piercing her flesh. She pressed her hand to the wound. “Shit.”

  A howl of rage filled the amphitheater. A shredded body hit the clear shield with a wet slap. Marx leapt over the barrier and slammed into the guard. He was covered in blood. Tasanee held onto him, her arms fixed around his neck. He turned his attention to the President. “Tasanee, please remain here.”

  Tasanee rolled off his back. “Right.”

  Marx leapt onto the Secret Service, cutting and biting. The President fled into the jail, throwing the metal door closed behind him, it locked with a snap.

  Tasanee examined Rake’s handcuffs. “These can’t be too hard.”

  Rake only had eyes for Ravil, but he spoke to Tasanee, “Rat, what is the fucking plan?”

  “Run like hell, meet at Danny’s, go from there.” Tasanee pulled out a pair of bolt cutters and sliced through the gold cuffs on Rake’s wrists. Bullets hit the shield behind them as reinforcements poured into the amphitheater. Tasanee eyed Rake’s feet shackles. “Ravil, hand
me…Ravil—”

  Ravil’s eyes rolled up into her head. She slumped to the floor and passed out. Rake dove for her and cradled her in his arms. “Cut the ones at my feet. We’ll run out of here.”

  Marx bounded to their side. He grabbed Rake’s foot and bit down, severing the gold shackles with his broken teeth. He spit out metal. “I can run very fast, but I cannot carry all three of you.”

  Tasanee shoved Rake at Marx. “Take them.”

  Rake glared at Tasanee. “You are in Chinese Territory and you have death warrant on your head. They will shoot you on sight!”

  Tasanee picked up an automatic rifle. “You have to get into space!”

  Marx looked between all three, clearly torn between prey and future mate. He growled, disliking this situation. The clear shield cracked under the barrage of bullets. Marx growled and considered killing everyone in the amphitheatre instead of running. The Ampyr could deal with the fallout of his actions later.

  Lincoln hit the stage and rolled to his feet. He was covered in sheen of sweat and the green of smashed vegetation. “We go now!” More muscular than Marx, Lincoln was built for fighting. He whipped his hair around. His copper braid wrapped around Rake and Ravil’s arms and pulled them to his back.

  Rake put Ravil in between him and the Hunter, covering her body with his. He wrapped his legs around Lincoln’s waist and kept her in place. Rake pressed his hand into her shoulder wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

  Marx looked to Tasanee. “Get on.”

  Tasanee mounted Marx as she would a horse. She locked her ankles around his stomach. His braid wrapped around her wrists and snaked up her arms like warm velvet. Tasanee eyed it, fascinated as it pulled her in. “Weird!”

  The clear shield shattered.

  The Hunters bolted towards the audience, tearing up the stage as they ran. They moved in a blur, exiting the amphitheater in seconds. American Empire soldiers followed them. The Hunters sprinted through the narrows streets of Bombay, darting between buildings. They lost the soldiers in the rush of humanity.