by Minton, Toby
These patrols didn't bother trying. They strolled down the main streets, ignoring the narrower lanes and reserving most of their attention for their conversations, giving the buildings they passed only a casual glance, if that.
Elias had seen similar behavior in other buffer zones. These patrols, like many of their counterparts, had been conditioned to settle for running out the riffraff instead of apprehending them, and proximity alone was good enough to get that job done. Searching the buildings would be a waste of effort. Searches had no doubt proved futile in the past due to the vigilant lookout and signal system zoners tended to employ. By the time a patrol busted in the door, no matter how quickly and quietly they moved in, the squatters would be long gone.
Of course, this meant Elias, Mos, and Padre had most likely been spotted as well as they made their approach. With their nondescript clothing and their weapons concealed, the three of them might be taken for zoners by the right observer. A patrol just might be fooled from far enough away, not that Elias planned to put that to the test, but the zoner lookouts would make them at any distance. Elias was too big, too fit, Mos more so. Both of them moved like soldiers, no matter how hard they tried not to. Padre was a little better, in both build and in moving like a civvy, but the intensity behind his dark eyes was enough to send any zoner who got a look scurrying for cover, even if they did take him for one of their own.
Elias was confident the surrounding buildings had emptied as they made their careful approach, which was a good thing. The fewer eyes to witness their cleanup of Gideon's mess the better.
He turned away from the lane and looked at Padre beside him crouched in the shadow of what had started its life as a factory. Like most industrial buildings in this district, it had been converted into a gallery, alehouse, or loft apartments before E-Day. Now, with its roof completely missing, the glass from its two-story windows long since broken out or scavenged, and much of the second floor crumbled into the first, it was worthless even to zoners. The one thing it did well was create irregular pockets of deep shadow from the weak moonlight, which made it invaluable to Elias.
Padre met his gaze and nodded once. All clear. Elias trusted his own eyes, but he trusted Padre's more.
Elias nodded back and Padre stepped out of the shadows and into the street, moving casually but quickly toward the small shack set deep in a lot that had once held a larger building. As soon as Padre entered the street, Elias gestured for Mos to move up.
Mos was covering their six from the back of the factory. By the time the bigger man clapped a hand on Elias's shoulder, Padre was already on the lot and headed for the rear of the shack. Elias and Mos stepped into the street together and made for the front door, not bothering to disguise their bearing or feign interest in anything other than the structure ahead. Their one nod to stealth was keeping their weapons under their coats for now.
Their 5.45-mm, short-barrel full-autos with chip-aided recoil control and smart-scan optics were relatively lightweight, powerful, and fairly easy to conceal. As a close quarters weapon, the CX-9 was unparalleled, lacking only in range. It was also hard to come by with a price tag that could strain even Gideon's cash reserves. These two had been a gift from Savior's security forces, courtesy of Mos. He'd had the presence of mind to appropriate a fair amount of weapons and gear during evac when they rescued Nikki from Savior. Elias had been noticeably lacking in presence of mind that day.
The reason for the weapons came into view as soon as they stepped onto the lot. Beside the front door of the shack, a rusted out metal chair no one would use sat facing the street no one was supposed to walk. The thin strip of red fabric wrapped around one of the front legs of the chair exactly three times was a warning to zoners and patrols alike that this particular hole was property of the West Coast Runners.
The building should have been empty. They'd watched it for close to two hours before and after sunset and seen no sign of movement or light. Elias was sure it was empty of the living, with an eighty-five percent confidence level.
But even a fifteen percent chance of encountering living Runners inside was enough to warrant the firepower. There'd be no talking their way around violating Runner turf. Runners were touchy and territorial at the best of times. If this was where Gideon had woken up, and if the people he'd killed had been Runners, this wouldn't be the best of times.
Elias didn't hesitate. As soon as his foot touched the wood of the half-buried pallets serving as a porch, he opened his jacket and pulled up his weapon. Mos stepped past, his weapon at the ready, and slammed his foot into the door beside the handle.
The door splintered and swung in with a squeal of misaligned hinges.
Mos hustled through, crouched low. Elias followed high, and together they quartered the room in search of targets.
They found none. None living, at least.
"Clear," Elias said.
"Clear," Padre's soft voice replied from the one other small room at the back where he'd made his entrance.
"Yeah, clear," Mos said, "and then some." He hissed out a breath that turned into a groan. "Smells like a slaughter house."
They switched on their lights for a better look, and Mos's groan dropped an octave. Elias shared the sentiment. Gideon's curt description didn't come close to capturing the scene. It took them a couple of minutes just to settle on a body count of four, and that with a low confidence level.
"Mos, you're on overwatch," Elias ordered. "Padre—" He met the sniper's gaze across the tangle of broken furniture. "I want to know what happened here. We need to be sure."
Padre nodded and lowered his gaze back to the chaos. He looked a little uneasy, but Elias couldn't fault him, not when he felt the same.
Even after a lifetime in the service seeing the aftermath of more conflicts than he liked to count, Elias was shaken by the carnage around him. He'd seen what the creature sharing Gideon's body could do to the concrete and steel inside the vault, so he'd imagined what would happen if it got its claws on something as delicate as the human body. Imagination didn't compare to reality, however.
If Gideon truly had done this, locking him away might not be enough. If he couldn't control the creature anymore, if he was capable of…this, Elias would have to keep the promise he'd made long ago. He'd have to put him down.
If the creature could take control at will, even for a short time, none of them were safe.
Nikki
Nikki stared at the ceiling over her bed, trying to figure out what time of day it was, with little success. The bare, sloped concrete had no clues to give. All it had was the big faux skylight glowing softly with the light of a half moon, as it did day and night.
Her body felt heavy as she sat up, like she'd either slept way too long or not long enough. She stretched with a long groan, then turned and found her wadded pillow. It was still damp, but whether that was from early morning drool or late night tears, she couldn't say, so that was no help.
Michael wasn't around, but that didn't help either. He hadn't said much after their run-in with Kate. Just, she looked so tired. But tired sounded an awful lot like beautiful the way he said it, especially when paired with the tingling ache thudding through her chest with every heartbeat.
The way he—they—felt didn't make sense. How could he have fallen so hard for Kate in just the few weeks they'd known each other? He wasn't like that. He didn't jump into the deep end of anything, ever. He was too cautious. He didn't let himself develop feelings for people because he knew he'd have to move on from them sooner or later. He just didn't. He was all logical and whatnot.
Nikki was the feeler, the impulsive one, the one who jumped headfirst into any- and everything without a second thought. She was the one who lived and loved at a full sprint, not Michael. At least, that's how it used to be, or how it felt to her.
She didn't know who she was or what she was supposed to feel anymore. Seeing Kate had really driven that home. Michael's longing and her guilt swirling together had pushed her over the edge
last night, or tonight, or whenever she'd run in here to hide. She'd curled up on her bed, wrapped her thin pillow over her head, and cried them both to sleep.
Now here she was. Awake, alone, and disoriented, as usual.
She dropped her feet down to the cold floor and grabbed her jeans from the foot of the bed. Her pink sneakers came next. She preferred her trusty combat boots for hitting the city, but something told her Coop wouldn't be allowed to give her a ride tonight, if it was still tonight. She had a feeling Ace was going to keep everybody in lockdown until this whole Gideon mess was sorted out.
She spent a couple of minutes on her hair, just in case, then she unlatched her door and headed out.
Turned out she was right about Coop. His door was shut, and he was sound asleep with no plans to leave the bunker anytime soon. She knew because she opened the door and poked a finger into his forehead until he woke up and yelled at her. A quick glance at the clock on his locker, as she ducked under his thrown pillow and scooted back into the hall, told her it wasn't even midnight. She'd only been out for a few hours.
She pulled his door shut, nice and hard, and wandered slowly toward the hangar.
Too bad Corso wasn't around. No chance he would be in bed at this hour. He'd be on his way out the door, and he wouldn't even think of leaving her behind.
The thought of that crooked smile and those deep brown eyes made Nikki smile. Somehow those eyes always seemed to promise more, no matter how much fun the rest of him delivered. Unfortunately, he wasn't living off the Gideon teat like everybody else at the bunker, so he was gone on his "jobs" half the time. He'd been gone almost a month on his latest run.
The light in Gram's room was on, but Nikki kept going past his slightly open door and across the hall toward the hangar. She liked Gram, but his company wasn't what she wanted. At the moment, she could think of only one thing that would ease the pain of having to spend the night trapped in the bunker, and apparently she needed permission to get it.
The main lights in the hangar were off, but the dull orange glow of the backup lights around the perimeter of the cavernous space was more than enough for Nikki to see that Elias, Sam, and Mos weren't back yet.
They were down to just three vehicles after losing the two-seater Savior's troops had shot down in San Jose. The skimmer, all sleek, sexy, and tempting, was parked by the left wall. It looked like a badass motorcycle minus the wheels, especially with the new matte black, scanner-resistant paint job Mos had given it. The main transport was taking up most of the right side of the bay, looking all boxy, scarred, and scored, like something mama transports used to scare little baby transports into eating right and saying no to hard drugs. There was no sign of their four-seater shuttle, a more used and abused version of the limited-altitude hover cars owned by fancy-pants city dwellers.
No shuttle meant no Elias. No Elias meant no talking to Gideon, unless Ace had changed her mind.
Nikki gave the skimmer a quick considering glance, then she turned away from the hangar and headed down the main hall.
Sam had declared her qualified to pilot the skimmer and even tried to get her to take it out on her own a few times. She should have been overjoyed, just like she should have been more than just a little tempted finding it all unattended and inviting when she was conspicuously without a ride to the city. But even after all this time she couldn't shake the gut-wrenching feeling that came with thoughts of taking the skimmer out. Memories of her one and only solo joy ride were all tangled up in memories of torture and loss—things she really didn't want to remember.
Didn't matter though. Even if she had been more tempted and less nauseated, a joy ride wasn't her top priority tonight.
She passed the briefing room on her left, then the galley on her right, both dark and empty. So far so good. If luck and Ace were both asleep for the night, and if Michael didn't pop up, she might actually get what she was after for once.
As she neared the intersection, she almost crossed her fingers, but she scowled at the shadowed hall and flexed her hand instead. Crossing her fingers would be giving luck more respect than it deserved. Until luck started playing nicely, Nikki wasn't about to bow and scrape. Luck had crossed her too many times to deserve anything besides open hostility from Nikki Flux. She didn't consider herself petty or unforgiving. She was just really, really good at holding a grudge, and reminding her nemesis she was holding it.
She turned the corner without looking first. If someone was there to see, she wanted to appear confident and casual, not like she was sneaking. She wasn't sure she pulled off the look, but it didn't matter. The hall was empty and quiet.
She passed the command center with a quick glance in to make sure it was empty, then she stopped outside the door to the lower level and took a good look around. A dozen meters past the door, the corridor T-boned a crossing hall. To the left down that hall was another block of rooms just like hers, only this block was just used for storage. To the right was the block of four larger rooms where Elias, Mos, and Ace slept.
Nikki glanced back the way she'd come. Back past the intersection she'd rounded so confidently, the gym and infirmary looked dark and empty from her angle.
If Ace wasn't in any room she'd passed, which looked like the case, she was either in her bunk or downstairs with Gideon. Nikki could work with option one. Option two was a game buster.
After a long minute's thought, she continued down the hall toward the officers' rooms, moving as quietly as her soft sneakers and the polished concrete allowed, which she didn't mind bragging was almost Sam quiet. Congratulating herself on her wise shoe choice, she flattened herself against the wall at the corner and peeked around.
Ace's door was open just enough to paint a sharp triangle of yellow light across the otherwise empty hall and allow a murmur of voices to escape.
Nikki slid around the corner and crept closer until she spotted Ace inside.
Ace's room was almost twice the size of Nikki's, big enough for her to have a desk and chair against one wall. She was seated at the desk talking to somebody on an older tablet hung on the wall in a picture-frame stand.
"You're busy," a man's voice said from the screen. Nikki couldn't see more than spiky red hair, but she didn't risk sneaking closer for a better angle. "I shouldn't have called."
"Don't say that," Ace replied, leaning forward with her arms on the desk and her chin propped on one hand. "You call me anytime. That's an order."
Nikki could barely see the side of Ace's cheek, but she could tell she was smiling. In fact, she looked more relaxed than Nikki had ever seen her. Not that Ace was all that uptight or anything. She smiled, and occasionally even leaned in a casual manner, as much as anybody at the bunker, except maybe Coop, but never like this. There was always a touch of tension in her body language, like she was ready for action at a second's notice, or like her smile, as genuine as it might look, was coming from the other side of a wall no one ever got past.
Not with this guy. Whoever the mystery man on the tablet was, he was inside the wall. He was getting to see the real Ace with no barrier between them.
Nikki was curious. Understatement. She was practically twitching to know who this guy was, but giving in to her curiosity would be a mistake, another game buster. Whoever he was, he'd captured Ace's full attention for now, and that was all that mattered.
Nikki eased away from the door and back around the corner, careful not to make a sound. Then she padded back to the door to the lower level with a steadily growing smile. Then she spotted the mag-lock.
Apparently Ace wasn't taking any chances. The heavy-duty magnetic seal she'd installed over the door lever had a palm scanner that lit up red as Nikki got close enough to trip the proximity sensor.
Maybe Gideon getting out was Ace's only concern, but Nikki would bet a month's worth of dish duty that she was not in the authorized user list.
She didn't bother trying the scanner to see. She was done for. Thwarted again. Unless…
Her smile starte
d to make its way back as she leaned closer to check out the bottom of the lock. She'd known how to pick mechanical locks for years. Any family that wanted to do more than just get by in the zones needed at least one member with basic B&E skills. Since Michael, the sum of Nikki's family, wouldn't have anything to do with picking locks, pockets, or anything besides low-paying jobs, Nikki had taken up the slack. She had a knack for it too, when it came to physical locks. But electronic locks were a whole 'nother animal, one she hadn't known a thing about until Corso came along. He'd never met a lock he couldn't slide past, and he'd been more than willing to teach Nikki a thing or two.
Thanks to those lessons, Nikki thought she could get past this mag-lock, if not as smoothly as Corso could. She'd have to do it "the ugly way," as he called it. In other words, she'd have to break it. She just had to decide if she wanted to talk to Gideon badly enough to call down Ace's thunder.
She didn't even have to think about that one.
A quick trip back to the hangar gave her everything she needed. The only thing more impressive than Gram's curse bank was his tool stash—the stuff of thieves' dreams.
It only took her a minute to wire the hand-held quick charger to the screwdrivers. Getting the business ends of the tools in the tiny spots Corso had shown her took a little longer, but she managed between glances back at Ace's hallway. "Managed" meaning she dropped her makeshift probes a time or two, and the first time she fired up the charger she almost burned it up before she realized she had one screwdriver in the wrong spot.
Once she repositioned the probes, and checked one more time to make sure the coast was clear, she held her breath and cranked the charger on full.
The palm screen flickered off with a hiss and the lock popped off the door and dropped. If Nikki's reflexes had been any slower the crash would have been epic. Instead, it was just painful.
She dropped to her knees on the concrete floor and snagged the lock with one hand just before it hit. She jerked her other hand, the charger locked in a death grip, up over her head and as far away from the door as she could to keep the suddenly free-swinging screwdrivers from clattering into it. She froze in her awkward position and listened for any sign of Ace heading her way.