by Eli Ingle
“NO! NO! Agghghhgh!” A shadowy figure ahead had fallen in the middle of the street. The clanking of a robot stopped as it reached the target and filled it with bullets. Rigel winced as the screaming turned to gurgling and then stopped.
Trying to hurry and be quiet, they skirted the edge of the street and arrived at a T-junction.
“Go right.”
They moved down amidst the haze and managed to trip over the prone figure of a destroyed robot. Picking themselves up, they carried on to the end.
“How much further?” panted Rigel.
“Two more streets; then we’ll be at the Eastern Gate. From there we can leave the city and make our escape.”
“How many smoke grenades do you have left?” asked Erdiz.
“That was my last one. How much ammo do you have left?”
With some difficulty owing to the need to carry Laurie, Erdiz broke her gun open and checked the barrel. “Three shots.”
“Make ’em count then,” said the guard, breaking open her own gun and checking the barrel. “Seven between the two. Alright, let’s go.”
The first street was empty and allowed them to pass down quickly and without incident. The second was much trickier as it was situated near to the gate.
“They’ll protect this area heavily,” the guard informed them as they pressed themselves against the wall. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take your gun. I think I’ll make better use of it.”
“Yes, of course,” said Erdiz, handing it over without complaint.
“The smoke is clearer here,” she said, “so we’ll have to move fast. I’ll go first and you lot follow behind. Don’t dawdle – if you stumble, fall or pause I will leave you. Is that clear?”
The group nodded.
“I don’t know how many there are,” she continued, “and I only have seven shots so if I go empty we’ll just have to make a break for it and run.”
“Aren’t some of those people your friends?” asked Rona.
“Yes ...,” said the guard, looking down at the girl.
“How can you shoot them if they’re your friends?”
“Never underestimate a person’s ability for self-preservation,” the guard replied. She cocked her shotguns. “Ready?” They nodded. “Let’s go then.”
Diving from around the corner, their guard charged forwards, guns held out ready to fire. Erdiz and the Light Ones followed behind, carrying Laurie with them as fast as they could. Rigel’s arms were burning and his legs were shaking but he managed to find some last pump of adrenaline to keep him running.
In the courtyard, they found the area disturbingly clear of either smoke or potential things to hide behind. Bodies of civilians, robots and guards were scattered about like discarded playthings. Their guard was in the middle and had shot two guards who were hiding around the corner of a street leading off from the courtyard.
“Run for the gate!” she instructed them. “My guns don’t have the range to take out the men on top of the gatehouse. They have rifles. Run! Go, go, go!”
Hobbling towards the archway, they narrowly avoided being shot before a bullet hit Erdiz in the arm. She grunted and ran faster, crashing them into the close gate.
“No! It’s not supposed to be shut,” moaned Rigel.
“I don’t know why we would have expected that they’d have left it open,” commented Erdiz.
“Yeah, being philosophical at this point isn’t overly helpful, Professor,” said Rona.
The woman charged under cover. “What’s the holdup?” she asked.
“It’s locked.”
“And I’m bleeding,” said Erdiz, looking down at the stain running down her front.
“Gods damn it!” the guard hissed. She bit her finger before pointing at Rigel. “I need to go and find a grenade. You’ll need to cover me.”
“How do I do that?” he asked.
“With a gun. How else?” She pulled the pistol from Erdiz’s loose fingers and pushed it into Rigel’s hand. “The safety’s off, so all you have to do is pull the trigger in their direction. The idea is to distract them whilst I run out. Get it?”
“Not got it.”
“Do it anyway.” She pushed him into the courtyard, where he stumbled and fell over, the gun falling from his fingers.
The guards on top of the wall spotted him and began aiming. The female guard ran out past him.
“That’s the spirit!” she called.
“Screw you!” he shouted, scrambling after the fallen pistol and picking it up. Holding it in both hands he aimed at one of the men and watched in mute surprise as he fell from the wall and landed with an awful crunch. The other guards shot at him again whilst he was still staring at the mess that used to be a soldier. A bullet hit him in the shoulder. The pain was intense and blindingly pure. Suddenly his eyesight was sharper than it had ever been. All the colours were brighter. Raising the gun again, he aimed at the other soldier, pulled the trigger, did not even watch as he fell, pointed at the other, shot and watched him fall. He carried on aiming and pulling the trigger, barely noticing that the chamber was empty and the gun was no longer firing.
Two guards remained and stood shoulder to shoulder, aiming their rifles at him. They fired and suddenly his stomach was on fire and his arm had gone numb. Rigel rocked backwards, senseless to most things around him and even to the female guard dragging him along the floor and back under the gatehouse. A bullet had also grazed his neck; he could feel the blood pouring down his body before he passed out.
“He’s gone,” commented their guard as she placed Rigel’s body beside Rona. “We need to stand back. I’m going to blow the gate.”
“What do you mean: he’s gone?!” said Rona, frantic as she looked over Rigel.
“He’s passed out. He’s not dead but he will be soon if we DON’T MOVE OUT OF THE WAY WHILE I BLOW THE GATE!”
Dragging Laurie and Rigel between them, Rona and Erdiz moved away from the gate whilst keeping themselves pressed against the wall as cover from the guards on top of the gatehouse. The female guard rushed out a moment afterwards and jammed her hands against her ears.
The gate exploded, sending dust, warped pieces of the gate and stone out from the archway.
“Move!” she barked. Erdiz pulled Laurie as she lifted Rigel over her shoulder in a fireman’s lift. The guards on top of the gate had either fallen back or been killed in the blast – it was impossible to tell.
The inside of the archway was filled with dust and smoke, making it difficult to see where they were going and avoid tripping over the stones and broken gate that had fallen inside. A terrible cracking noise came from above.
“It’s going to collapse. Get out.”
Running out to the other side of the gate, they were greeted by the barren plains to which they had become so accustomed.
“Now we’re through, we could do with that collapsing,” said the woman, turning and looking at the gate. She pulled out her shotguns and blasted the top of the arch until dust began to rain down. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“What’s the plan now?” puffed Erdiz, still dragging Laurie.
“The plan hasn’t changed – we’re going out of here. We need to keep running – you can bet they won’t stop chasing us, with someone as valuable as they perceive you to be.”
“But there’s nowhere to go and Laurie and Rigel are dying!” shouted Rona.
“And shouting isn’t going to help,” snapped the guard. “You wait here; I’m going to get us a ride.” She pulled a whistle from her belt and blew it. A light on the end lit up and began pulsing. Nothing happened.
“What does that do?” asked Erdiz.
“Watch,” the guard replied, offering no other explanation.
Several minutes passed without incident but then in a whirl of dust and engine heat, a strange floating motorbike with a flat cargo deck attached to the front and sides pulled up. A guard pulled the brakes and looked over the group.
“What are you doing?!” hissed Rona.
“Shut up.”
The guard dismounted the bike and unslung his rifle. “Good job,” he said to the woman and nodded. “You, put your hands on your head and down on your knees.”
Erdiz and Rona looked at each other before obeying the command. Rigel and Laurie slumped lifelessly to the floor.
“These shouldn’t be too much trouble,” continued the guard. He lowered his rifle and held out his hand to their female guard. “Good job.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, smiling and went to shake his hand before pulling something from her sleeve, spinning it round and sticking it through his throat. He gurgled in outrage and surprise before falling to the floor, dead. Their guard wiped her knife, re-sheathed it in her belt and took the other man’s guns from him. “Fancy a lift?”
Erdiz and Rona gaped at her but nevertheless dragged their companions and lifted them onto the floating bike. Closer up, they could see it was not a flying motorbike but an engine case with a seat on top and handlebars with the strange platform welded to the front. A small set of railings ran around the edge. Underneath the whole thing were exhausts that were pummelling out smoke and heat and seemed to be what was keeping it up in the air.
“It’s used mostly for transporting cargo around,” said the guard as she noticed them looking at it. “But it can be used for people too. They’re very fast. Come on, climb aboard.”
They clambered in next to the prone bodies of their friends and held onto the railings. The guard sat in the seat and revved the engine. The bike lifted higher off the ground.
“Ding, ding,” she said before pulling back the throttle. The bike tilted forwards and shot along the plain, away from the city.
The roar of the wind was terrible and made them press their faces close to the platform to avoid the dust and air that were buffeting them.
“I estimate we’ve got about five minutes before they notice the stunt I pulled,” shouted the guard over the roar of the wind and engines. “Now when they do, I’m going to need you to shoot at them because I’m going to have to be driving like a maniac.”
“You mean you’re not already?” muttered Rona.
“Got you,” Erdiz replied instead and cocked the rifle. Rona picked up the two sawn-off shotguns.
“I’ve never shot anyone before,” she said.
“Well, it was probably going to happen at some point,” commented Erdiz.
“You’d make a terrible counsellor,” replied Rona.
“Thanks.”
Sirens filled the air.
“Damn it!” shouted the woman. “They’re here! And in less time than I thought. Hold on!” She pulled the throttle all the way back and accelerated the bike to twice the speed. Rona could hardly believe that it could go any faster.
Turning to face the oncoming storm, Rona and the wise-woman hooked their feet through the railings and leant backwards to get a decent aim.
A whirl of dust showed them that the city guards were approaching fast. Rona and Erdiz nodded to each other.
“Ready?” the guard asked.
“No,” replied Rona.
“Me either.”
The guards were approaching on bikes similar to their own along with other heavier- transports that were too far away for any of them to get a good look at.
“Aim for the fuel cells rather than the people if you can,” the female guard said, “especially on the transport ships. They’re located underneath and to either side and it’ll cause a lot more damage if you hit them rather than people.”
“Okay,” replied Erdiz.
A deep rumbling was filling the air, ominous and starting at a low pitch, but gradually growing until it was louder than any thunder they had ever heard. If Rigel had been awake, he might have recognised it as a sound similar to that of the Persefoni when Laurie piloted it down to his house on Earth, but neither Rona nor Erdiz had heard such a sound and looked around, confused.
“Is that the bike?” asked Rona.
“No,” said their guard, checking the motor. “It isn’t coming from here. What is it? Is it coming from the guards behind us?”
“I can’t tell,” replied Erdiz, “but it doesn’t look like there should be anything there to be making that noise.”
It was getting louder. The air was thrumming and ripping painfully. Rona gasped, dropping her guns as her hands flew to her ears.
“Ow! It hurts!”
“What the hell is it?” demanded the guard.
“Air … ship ...,” wheezed Laurie, whose eyes had flickered open at the sound.
“An airship?” asked Erdiz.
Then the sky exploded in a flash of white-hot atomic light, blinding them all.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jhoan was not himself. He blinked and looked around to see the interrogation room he was being held in. He blinked again as he noticed the two knives held downwards in his hand, blood dripping from the blades and onto the floor, collecting in a pool that was running from the bodies of his interrogators. He did not remember killing them. Then the black shadow came over his mind and he was no longer there. His actions were automated and far faster than they should have been. He was pressed against the wall by the door and hit the alarm the guards had installed in case a prisoner caused trouble.
Barely a few seconds passed before two guards carrying rifles burst in. They did not see Jhoan pressed against the wall and he leapt out at them and stabbed them in the throat before they even saw he was there. He took one rifle and the ammunition from the other man’s gun along with their pistols and knives before stepping out into the corridor. The tiled walls and floor made his boots echo as he walked.
At the end of the corridor, a barred door blocked the way. Grabbing at the lock, Jhoan watched as black smoke seeped between his fingers and fused the metal, making it swing open effortlessly.
Stepping through, he saw a patrolling guard. Ignoring the shouted order for him to halt, he held a knife by the blade and spun it towards the guard, watching as it buried itself in his chest. The man gasped before falling to the floor. Walking over, the bandit retrieved his weapon and took the spare clips as well.
So it continued. The corridors had seemed like a maze to him when he had been led through them on his way to the interrogation room, but now, without any plausible reason, he was able to navigate through them with ease. Move, kill, move, kill.
He reached the armoury and found his own weapons that they had stripped from him upon arrival. Along with them, he took a belt full of grenades that he slung over his shoulder, along with smoke canisters, a handheld machine gun and more ammunition, which he draped over his other shoulder. The joy he would normally feel at such an acquisition was non-existent, however. Inside, he felt nothing.
Back in the corridors, he dealt with five guards before they had even told him to stop. He was getting faster.
Someone must have triggered an alarm in response to his escape because as he moved down the next corridor, a group of about seven met him, their guns pointing at various weak spots.
“Put down your weapons and surrender,” one of them ordered.
Jhoan grinned at them before running backwards. They shot but he had already fallen, sitting down and sliding along. The momentum, the smooth tiles and the slipperiness of the blood on his clothes meant he glided fast. As the guards pursued him, he pulled the pin on one of his grenades and threw it in their midst. Their screams were cut short as the explosion ripped them apart. The shock wave in the enclosed area should have hurt him, but it simply washed over the bandit and had no effect. His smile grew.
Jhoan stood up again and hurried back through the smoke and broken bodies. He found himself in the holding room from which he had been taken for questioning. The heavy door was left standing open. Looking down, he saw the broken handle of a knife that seemed vague
ly familiar. Outside there was a lot of shouting, smoke and gunfire. The bandit could not work out why that would be present in a city that seemed dedicated to order and control.
Stepping into the courtyard, he saw several dead bodies and the remains of a robot guard. In his black mind, his only thought had been escape. Now that had been achieved it was reunion. At first, that had meant going into the city to find the others, but now some instinct was telling him to take the cart and leave the city. Had he been in his rational mind, he would have wondered whether he was abandoning them; as it was, he hardly spared a thought for it and was already on the cart and driving back towards the main gate.
Nearing the exit, he stopped and dismounted, unclipped a grenade, pulled the pin and threw it at the gate. The explosion ripped the doors wide open and brought any hidden guards from the parapets into view as they looked for the cause of the explosion. He used the machine gun to mow down the four of them and watched as their bodies fell into the courtyard below.
Re-boarding the cart, he drove it over the rubble and bodies and back out into the open. Setting the lever to full speed, he moved to the back where he could steer comfortably. As he sped along he noticed a huge convoy of floating craft that appeared to be in pursuit of a single little bike up ahead. In his dark mind, there was only one command: kill. Why not obey it? So he directed the cart towards the vessel closest to him and brought it alongside. It was a vehicle almost like a flying motorbike. Holding onto the wheel with his right hand, he used his left to raise his pistol and shoot the driver. The man fell off the bike and landed in the dust. His bike, however, continued moving and veered left, crashing into a larger ship and exploding. Smiling, the bandit continued on his course and wove between the other vehicles, shooting the drivers where he could and crashing into others to cause as much confusion as possible.
Then the sky exploded in a blast of white atomic light.