Anarchy: Children of The Spear: Book Two

by Rhett Gervais

Chapter 19: Desperate Times

  May 2076

  “Why are you trying to scare that poor boy?” asked her father, pulling her away from the group by her elbow, his voice barely a whisper.

  They had just begun planning their attack when he stepped away, motioning for her to follow, dragging her physically to just outside the CIC, the half grin on his face telling her he was more curious than angry.

  Rowen gave him a shrug in return, glancing back into the room to make sure no one was paying attention. “That kid’s head is way too big for his tiny body. He needed to be taken down a notch. Besides, he’s terrified of me.”

  “Well, that may have a lot to do with you shooting him,” he said, crossing his arms. “In any case, keep an eye on him. I’m pretty sure he’s not giving us the whole story.”

  Rowen was about to return to the CIC when her father took her by the elbow once again, looking at her with pursed lips. “Rowen, before we go back in there, I need you to run overwatch for this mission. I’ll take care of things in the field.”

  “What! No way…why?”

  He took a deep breath, hesitating before pressing on. “I would like to get out of this city with what's left of my family. I’m not going to risk losing you on some fool’s errand.”

  A line creased the center of her forehead as she pointed a finger at him. “You're the one who got his ass kicked today, who almost died today,” she said, poking her much larger father in the chest. “If not for the Tin Man over there, you would still have a major concussion. You’re the one who should be sitting this out, not me.”

  “No, Rowen, this isn’t up for debate,” said her father, shaking his head.

  “You know what, Dad, you’re right—no debate. You stay here and run overwatch, and I’m gonna make sure this Arthur kid doesn’t screw us over. I’ve spent years waiting for you to come home, wondering if you were safe. I’ve had enough; now it's your turn!” With that, she turned on her heel, about to head back into the command center when she noticed Uriel’s bright glow at the entrance to the east tunnel, greeting stragglers who’d found their way back.

  “We need you in the command center. You should be in on the planning,” she said, coming up behind him.

  Uriel looked over his shoulder, his odd face stretched into an alien smile. “I don’t have the talent for that stuff,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m a point-and-shoot kinda guy. You just tell me what to do and it’ll get done. Besides, your people here need someone looking out for them, and I’m the best qualified.”

  Rowen raised a hand to shade her eyes from his brilliant glow, shuddering as torrents of heat and energy washed over her. He was working wonders with the stragglers who were trickling in, returning after the all-clear was sent out, many of whom were still in shock.

  “Ok, I also wanted to say thanks, I mean for helping everyone, especially my dad,” she said, looking down at her feet. She couldn’t help but admire him. Despite his inhuman appearance, he was kind and caring, having healed her father’s injuries without a word, not to mention helping complete strangers he had just met only today. He had a calm, easygoing way about him that immediately put people at ease, people who had lost everything. Just his presence was lighting the way in the dark, giving a renewed sense of hope.

  His glow became brighter, the small comets of gold and silver encircling him, moving faster. “Thank you. It's good to be really helping for a change. Just let me know when you guys are ready to head out. I’ll be ready.”

  Rowen gave him a small pat on the shoulder before heading back to the CIC so she could help with the final stages of their planning. Everyone involved knew that despite their exhaustion, a counteroffensive had to happen quickly. From what Gibbs had gathered, the Russians’ failed attack had only incensed them more. Even now Gibbs could sense that their production facilities in the park were running at full capacity, producing thousands of killing machines with every moment that passed, ready to try again. They had to strike now while their forces were still in disarray.

  Her father’s plan of attack was simple. They would take advantage of the synergy Arthur and Gibbs possessed in controlling the drones, getting them out of the way and giving the team a window to assault the residual force of soldiers in the park. If all went well, any enemy forces left in the city would be captured or dead by morning. It almost felt too easy, like they were cheating.

  It took the better part of four hours to plan and organize their remaining troops and just before they were about to depart, an excited Gibbs begged her to follow him, taking her to his mostly intact lab before speaking. “Mary Beth had me make something for you a few days ago, while we were trying to figure out how to talk with you. A few somethings, actually,” he said in his quick tone, searching through the mess at one of the stations. “Where did I… Aha! Here they are!” With a look of triumph on his boyish face, he handed her a pair of what looked like sunglasses. They were sleek, angular, with amber frames that wrapped around the side of her head. The lenses themselves were a mirrored silver, looking almost like textured circuitry. She turned down her lips for a moment, examining them before putting them on and smiling to herself. A full tactical display appeared, augmenting her normal field of vision with a multitude of data, tracking precisely where she looked and giving her a full suite of targeting data. It was a full augmented reality headpiece similar to what battlefield soldiers wore, but as far as she could tell, far more detailed.

  “You can cycle through multiple vision options, heat signatures and the like, and a full targeting suite attached to your weapons wirelessly,” he said with a childlike grin, almost bouncing on his heels. “Not to mention they have overwatch capacity if you’ve prepared for it, giving you a full tactical view of the entire field. It also passively scans for other wireless signals, giving you an edge if anyone else is using an active signal.”

  Impressed, Rowen couldn’t help but smile as she cycled through her options. It was the most intuitive piece of equipment she had ever used. “Wow, where did you find the plans for these? They’re more advanced than anything I’ve ever seen.”

  Gibbs shook his blond head, beaming with pride. “My own creation, unique right down to its battery system. It can hold a charge for more than a week at a time,” he said as he began to rummage once again. “Don’t ask how we got this just right, but this should be perfect for you,” he said, presenting her a gray duster like he was some sort of showman selling his wares. It took her a moment to realize it was like the coat Mary Beth had worn, only made smaller for her.

  “I can’t wear that,” she said, bowing her head as a fresh wave of guilt washed over her. She buried her face in her hands, remembering that they had run off suddenly to head off the incoming attack, leaving the bodies where they had fallen. Her friend would most likely still be where they had left her, in a pool of her own blood…forgotten.

  “C’mon, Rowen. I want you to be safe out there,” he said, speaking slower than normal. “You and your father, you saved me in more ways than you know. Before I met you guys, I was probably gonna end up like my father and his father before him, some Washington scumbag screwing people over. I wouldn’t have been a ‘good guy.’ Now I get to do something worthwhile with my life, make a difference. Anyway, all this to say that I don’t want to see you hurt…so put on the damn coat!”

  Rowen looked at the coat as though it were a viper, shaking her head. “I can’t,” she whispered, “I failed! I could have saved her if I hadn’t hesitated, and now you want me to take a present from the grave. No thanks.”

  “Nothing that happened was your fault! I know you can be stubborn, but she wanted you to have this, and if you’re going to be in a firefight soon…you’re gonna need it,” said Gibbs, his eyes pleading. “Look, this is ultra-light, layered graphene, thousands of single atoms stacked in layers, held in place by a small magnetic field. It can stop small arms fire. The field even goes far enough to encompass your head, allowing for some deflection of projectiles, namely bul
lets. Your hair isn’t bulletproof!”

  Rowen stared at the duster, running a hand through her thick mane of hair. She would come back when this was all over, give Mary Beth a proper send-off, but for now the best way she could honor her would be to survive the day. Turning down her lips, she took the coat, surprised to find it lighter than expected, almost sure it wouldn't hinder her movement in the least. She took a moment to adjust, removing her new gun from its holster to move the weapon onto her hip instead of her underarm before shrugging on the coat.

  She looked up to see Gibbs staring at her, chewing his lip nervously as though he had a million things to tell her. “What?”

  “Just, never mind…just be careful, ok?”

  Rowen could feel her face flush with embarrassment at his awkwardness, her cheeks growing warm as they smiled awkwardly at one another.

  “You should give it a name, by the way,” he said, pointing at her hip. “In the holovid the hero always has a cool name for their gun.”

  Rowen shook her head, giving her friend a half smile. “Well, I’m not a hero, I’m just someone doing what I gotta do. And this isn’t a holo-vid, so we’ll just call it a SIG Mark II.”

  Gibbs raised an eyebrow, giving her a wide grin. “You know, I wish for one day you could really see yourself the way the rest of us do. You’d be amazed.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, ready to dismiss his words. She knew the world didn’t want to look at her. She had none of the gifts that made the world pay attention, and no one looked twice when she walked by. Everything she did was by accident. She was no hero. Heroes were like her dad, big and strong with a square jaw, or like Gwen, who was blonde and beautiful…and could freaking fly!

  “None of that is important now. Let's just go,” she said, not liking where this was going. They had a city to free and a war to win. She would figure all this out later. If there was a later.

  Chapter 20: Memories

  May 2076

  Stepping out into the small hours of the night, Gwen could feel a tightening in her chest as she struggled to breathe the cool air. She stopped for a moment, folding over and placing her hands on her knees, a small tickle in her throat making her cough until her throat was raw, eyes watering. They had exited from the 47th Street subway through a series of long unused tunnels, the filth and dust coating the walls and floor having served to make her cough worse than usual. Finally able to breathe, she walked slowly down the abandoned streets wishing she had more D, anything to numb the soreness in her chest and calm her heaving stomach. Part of her just wanted to put in her earbuds and fly off, forget Arthur and his mad plan. Looking back, she could see a few dozen young people spilling out from the tunnel, their faces grim in the light of the full moon. She wanted to tell them the truth…that it was a long shot at best, and they would probably be dead before the sun came up.

  “You ok?” asked Rowen, coming up beside her, her mess of a face creased with worry.

  Gwen could only nod, not trusting her voice at the moment. She had only known the redhead for a few hours, and despite her frightful appearance, Gwen was amazed at her knowledge of military tactics, and anyone who could scare the shit out of Arthur was alright in her book. She was kind, with a blunt way about her that was endearing. Gwen did her best but couldn’t help but stare at her face from the corner of her eye, wondering how someone so young could handle looking like she did. The scars were horrific, long jagged things that looked like someone with a shaky hand had taken a knife to her. She couldn’t imagine her getting laid, much less finding love, but who was she to judge? Gwen knew she had scars too, deep jagged cuts on the inside, left by her mother, by guys like Brandon and Arthur. Bruises that never healed and made her feel all sorts of fucked up.

  Taking another deep breath, she swallowed hard, banishing the tickle for a moment. “Don’t trust Arthur, not for a fucking second. He’s not a good guy,” she said, looking over her shoulder for him.

  The other girl shrugged, brushing open her duster and resting a hand on the gun at her hip. “I figured as much. If he gets out of line, I’ll take care of him. You two are…were a couple or something?”

  Gwen let out a soft chuckle, breathing slowly to suppress another coughing fit. “Only in his twisted head. I thought we were friends, maybe more someday, but I wasn’t ready, and when I told him so, he didn’t take it well.”

  “Is he the one who made you sick…gave you that cough?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Letting out a small cough, she frowned, thinking she had done a better job of concealing it. “Yeah, that’s him alright. I thought this was going to be a much shorter mission. I didn’t bring enough of a medication I take,” she lied, “but don’t worry, Uriel can get me in tip-top shape for what we need.”

  As if saying his name summoned him, Uriel appeared at their side, the thin lines of metal on his face reflecting the light of the moon. He gave Rowen a tight-lipped smile before opening his palm, tiny sparks of gold and silver materializing from nothingness, driving away the dark. After a moment they began to drift like fireflies chasing the moon. They circled Gwen, plunging into her like tiny sparks from a campfire, leaving blossoms of light wherever they touched her, only to vanish moments later like a water lily drifting beneath the water. It took only a few moments before her color returned to normal and the rattle in her throat vanished so she could breathe right once again.

  “That was amazing,” said Rowen, eyes bright with wonder. Uriel gave her a friendly nod and was about to fall back when she raised a trembling hand to stop him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. I’m not really sure how to ask, but I’ve been watching you all night… Can you fix me? Would whatever you do work on someone like me?”

  Gwen cringed and hugged herself as the redheaded girl made a vague gesture toward her face, her green eyes wide with a mix of fear and hope.

  Uriel placed a hand on each shoulder, his large frame dwarfing her small one, shaking his head ever so slowly. “I’m afraid once someone heals naturally, there isn’t much I can do, or else I would have done something for myself too,” he said, giving her a pained smile. “But…you look like a badass, just—!”

  Gwen could see her nostrils flare as she shrugged his hands from her shoulders, turning her face away to hide how she felt, her hands clenched into fists. When she spoke, her words were barely a whisper. “I understand,” she said through clenched teeth. Gwen could almost feel the anger coming off her in waves. “I’ll go make sure everyone else is ready to go. We should be at the rally point in a little while.”

  She turned abruptly, stalking off into the night. Uriel stood by Gwen, watching Rowen go, his shoulders slumped. “You can’t fix everybody,” said Gwen, patting the big man on the back. Despite the stiffness of his artificial face, she could see his eyes were bright with tears at not being able to help. Since she had known him, he had always been this way, going out of his way to help others even when there was nothing in it for him. All those times he had healed her, intuitively knowing she was in pain, without her so much as giving him a thank you. What kind of person did he think she was, she wondered.

  “I know, but… Anyway, are you ready? It's time,” he said, watching Rowen give orders.

  She nodded absently, fishing around her pockets for her earbuds before happily slipping them on and scanning her smart device to find something fun to fly to. “Yeah, it just works better when I have some music.”

  Just as she was searching through her playlists, Arthur appeared at the head of the column, giving her that small smile like the one he had given her the night they had first met, his eyes lingering on her.

  She realized in that moment how much he was obsessed with her. Arthur was a leech, always taking more. He wanted her to comfort him. Love and support him. He was the one taking and never giving. Because she never really needed him, she was fine on her own. She would be fine on her own because she had been forced to do it since she was little. Gwen was surrounded by parasites, assholes who sucked her dr
y and gave nothing back. Worst of all still, she had made the mistake of ignoring people who were kind and giving, willing to give her a chance, like Sergeant Armstrong…or Uriel. Uriel, who was always kind to everyone, always there, never asking for anything. Nodding to herself, she understood that she had to stop the cycle. She would do the right thing tonight and free New York because she had given her word, but after tonight she was done giving herself to assholes. She didn’t owe anyone jack, and the world would have to learn the hard way.

  Looking Arthur directly in the eye, she grabbed Uriel gently by his cheeks. “You know you’re the shit, right,” she said, pulling his face to hers. His artificial lips were soft, his tongue moist, making her heart thump in her chest with joy. To be the one choosing who she would be with was a powerful thing.

  “What the hell was that for?” he asked, mouth agape, stumbling back when she finally let him go.

  “For being there,” she said, speaking to him but looking at Arthur, whose jaw hung open, “when there was nothing in it for you.”

  Uriel stared at her, running a hand across his mouth, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “I don’t—”

  “Listen,” she said, raising a palm, interrupting, “we don’t need to do shit for anyone anymore, once we’re done here tonight. We should get the fuck outta Dodge. Find someplace safe and enjoy life. Leave these assholes to fix their own problems.”

  He scratched his head, looking up in thought. “Ok, why not,” he said with a shrug before returning her kiss with one of his own. She fell into his strong arms that made her feel warm and safe.

  “Sweet child o’ mine,” she said, snapping her fingers, suddenly stepping back from his embrace.

  “What?”

  “That’s the song for tonight,” said Gwen, selecting the song from her playlist and sliding the volume to maximum, her adrenaline spiking suddenly like she had taken a shot of D. The air was warmer, for some strange reason, and tasting sweeter. Looking around at the assembled people, she gave Uriel a quick wink before flipping Arthur the bird, grinning as his face grew red in anger. Satisfied, she closed her eyes, bobbing her head in time to the slow riff as the guitar echoed in her ears, sending waves of vibrations through her body, swaying to the soft ballet. The next moment she found herself suddenly high above the darkened city, the voice of Axel Rose wailing through her soul. Scanning the horizon, she could see her target, the knifelike structure towering above the tree line casting a sickly glow of cascading colors onto the foliage She watched for a few moments, mesmerized as the strange crystal cycled, its light reflecting off the still lake in the heart of the park.