Bystanders

by Phillip Murrell

  “Shit!” Keith screams to his friend. “Are they killing Beatdown out there?”

  Kyle is huddled next to Keith. “I think they’re more likely to kill us. This shit is unrelenting.”

  Team Votary races toward the external apartment door, then starts to get hit by explosive shots. Votary is thrown to the ground and is slow to get up. A second 120mm tank round slams into him and flings him through the air. Alpha and Bravo move to intercept, but Votary waves them off.

  “No, rescue the children,” he instructs.

  Alpha and Bravo fly straight for the door to Mike’s apartment building. Alpha makes it in, but Bravo is blasted into the wall. Alpha charges up the stairs.

  Mike watches Alpha rush his building.

  “No!”

  Mike heroically charges across the street and passes Votary. Votary looks at Mike as he runs by and grabs him in a protective embrace. Votary then turns his back to the approaching tanks and takes another shot. He holds on to Mike and is able to protect him.

  “Let me go!” Mike screams. “I have to save my son!”

  Votary releases his grasp, and Mike charges into his building.

  “Did you see that? He tried to use a civilian as a human shield. Take the kid gloves off, boys. Switch from high explosive and give that bitch the sabot rounds. Let’s see if his armor can hold up to that,” the tank commander of the lead vehicle says.

  Alpha flies up the stairs toward Mike’s apartment. The three men are just outside Mike’s domicile and banging on the door.

  Inside, Keith and Kyle cower under the bed. They each hold a pair of kitchen knives.

  “What the hell do they want with us?” Keith whispers.

  “Shut up,” Kyle replies.

  They hear machine guns shoot into the apartment.

  “We’re screwed,” Keith whimpers.

  Kyle’s response is only heavier breathing.

  The three men are about to break through the door when Alpha flies into all three and smashes their bodies into the wall at the end of the hallway. Two of the men are instantly broken, but Alpha doesn’t halt his attack. His bo staff comes down brutally on all three. They’re pounded into greasy stains.

  Alpha then picks up their weapons and bends them in half, one by one.

  Mike appears at the top of the stairs and sees Alpha at the end of the hall. He points out that Alpha is holding the last gun and that his front door is shot to pieces.

  “What did you do? You tried to kill my boy? Where’s my wife?” Mike accuses in question.

  Keith hears Mike screaming at someone.

  “That’s my dad!” Kyle exclaims excitedly.

  Kyle immediately crawls from under the bed and runs to the entrance.

  “Wait, Kyle. Wait for me. I don’t want to be alone,” Keith calls after his friend.

  Keith is a bit slower getting out from under his tight concealment.

  Votary and Bravo do their best to avoid the gun and rocket fire directed at them outside the apartment building. Both show visible signs of damage, especially Bravo. Bravo arcs electricity from his chest cavity and lower extremities.

  The tank commander points at a shape standing in front of a window in Mike’s building. “The other one is by the third-floor window. Take him out!”

  His tank fires up at the form.

  Alpha is hit from behind. Alpha faces the window and sees a helicopter hovering in front. It begins to fire with its mini-gun. Alpha receives continuous impact from 20mm rounds and flies out the window. The bullet barrage doesn’t cease after Alpha’s escape. Mike and Kyle, who just arrived to embrace his father, are caught in the crossfire.

  Their bodies practically explode from the impact of the large caliber rounds. Keith stands in the doorway of the apartment as the two die.

  “Jesus! No! Oh God! What the hell! Stop shooting! Stop shooting!”

  Keith falls to his knees and cries, covered in blood that’s not his own. Bullets pass mere inches from his body. Keith simply sobs.

  Alpha flies down to Votary. “Mission complete.”

  Votary nods. “Good. Let’s get out of here. Bravo, come back.”

  Bravo flies back to them. Alpha shrinks and merges with Votary as his right shoulder.

  “What the hell was that?” The tank commander wonders. “They’re robots. Get them. Kill them before they combine into some kind of super killing machine.”

  Bravo speeds toward Votary and takes a sabot round to the shoulder. It forces Bravo to crash. Votary looks at Bravo and sees his arm is missing.

  The tank commander is clearly excited to finally see some effective results. “Hell yeah! I love sabot rounds. Give them all we’ve got.”

  A spotlight illuminates the tank commander. He looks up and sees a helicopter with D2I News on the side of it.

  Claire holds a hand to her mouth as she observes the destruction. She just witnessed an American military helicopter firing into a civilian residence. She knows there wasn’t any malicious intent, but she still fears the results.

  “We got here too late,” she tells Will.

  “It looks like your team is getting hammered,” he replies.

  Claire looks down and sees what can only be described as a robot trying to crawl back to First Line.

  “We need to get lower. We have to stop this.”

  Will has a large smile. “No problem. This shit gets my dick hard.”

  The D2I helicopter flies lower to the action.

  Bravo attempts to merge with Votary again, but he’s too damaged to make the transformation.

  Votary flies over to Bravo, with another barrage of rockets barely missing him.

  “Damage assessment?” Votary asks his drone.

  “Critical. Repair doubtful,” Bravo matter-of-factly answers.

  “Not true,” Votary contradicts. “You know he can fix you.”

  Bravo continues giving his assessment. “Integrity less than six percent. Recommend mission abort.”

  “The mission has already succeeded. Come on.”

  Votary reaches out to pick up Bravo when another two sabot rounds tear into him. One hits Bravo’s head and explodes it. A shower of sparks rains down on Votary as he’s thrown away again.

  “No!” he screams.

  Votary searches for the source of the attack and flies straight for the tank commander.

  “Aw shit! That got his attention,” the man comments.

  The tank commander drops down into the tank, but he neglects to close the hatch. Votary flies straight for the tank and grabs the cannon. He bends it back and faces it to the rear of the tank, as if it’s penetrating itself.

  Votary fires off the last of his odor capsules all over the tank and flies straight up. The tank commander is left gasping and ineffective.

  “What the hell was that?” he chokes. “Gas! Gas! Gas!”

  The tank crew and nearby soldiers try to cover their mouths. Some pat their legs, probably looking for chemical protective equipment that isn’t with them.

  Soldiers cautiously approach the nearby remains of Bravo.

  The pieces begin to dissolve as the soldiers get close, ultimately vanishing from sight.

  “Shit! That just happened,” an excited private states.

  Claire has tears in her eyes as she looks at the devastation below her. She’s happy that First Line got away, but she knows that there must be numerous civilian casualties from yet another night of wanton destruction courtesy of Yuri Osaka.

  Claire looks at the camera that she’s set up in the helicopter and begins reporting.

  “This is Claire Kennedy. I’m probably the only reporter looking at what ended up being an ill-advised battle between First Line and the United States military. It doesn’t look like any soldiers were hurt, but at least one of First Line’s accomplices was killed. Perhaps ‘destroyed’ is the better word. The smaller figures may have been robots, as you just saw on the footage I’ve been sending back. That may finally shed light on why First Line can take so m
uch damage. We can speculate on his origin later; right now, I have disturbing images of a neighborhood that had to survive two attacks tonight. First, there were two sides of a gang war. It appears that First Line was finishing up that problem when the military approached and attacked him without giving a chance to surrender. I’m no lawyer, but that doesn’t seem like they took into accounts his constitutional rights.”

  Claire’s D2I helicopter hovers over the battlefield as two attack helicopters flank it on each side.

  “Civilian aircraft, you’re not allowed to be here,” the first pilot says. “We’ll escort you to our landing strip and you’ll be taken into custody. Do not disobey this order.”

  Will looks to Claire. She is concerned but determined.

  “What do you want to do now, Claire?”

  Claire thinks for a moment, and just a moment. “Screw them! I stand by what I said before. They won’t kill us. We go back to D2I. I want to make sure witnesses are there to see what happens to us.”

  Will nods. “It probably won’t be pretty, but it won’t be Guantanamo either. I’m heading back to D2I.”

  “Good. Thanks, Will. You were a good and brave friend tonight. I’m glad that I didn’t get you killed.”

  Will laughs. “Just potentially raped by hardened criminals for the next ten to twenty or so years.”

  Claire shakes her head. She hopes not.

  The D2I helicopter flies, in defiance of the military, back to D2I.

  From his cockpit, the first helicopter pilot continues to repeat his warnings over his loudspeaker. “Halt. That is not the approved flight path. We will shoot you down.”

  The D2I helicopter continues to fly.

  “Civilian aircraft, cease immediately. This is your last warning.”

  The news helicopter continues to fly, but the military pilot slows his pursuit.

  “Should we follow them?” the second pilot asks over the internal frequency.

  “No,” the first responds. “We’ll report it back to HQ and they’ll probably send someone to pick them up. We just don’t need them in our way. There can always be more vigilantes.”

  “Whatever; that was intense!”

  “Hell yeah!”

  The two attack choppers travel back over the scene of the violence that just ended.

  Benji watches the D2I coverage. He’s relieved and grateful that the riots and gang battles have ended, but also because Claire is on TV reporting on her flight.

  He speaks to the television. “Claire, you have a million lives. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

  Karen and Mendez approach behind him.

  “Benji, any word on our missing people?” Karen asks.

  Benji shakes his head. “Sorry, Karen. Nothing on Carlos.” He shifts his attention to Mendez. “Or on Maria.”

  “Maria’s tough. She’s fine. I guarantee it,” Mendez affirms.

  Karen and Mendez walk off while Benji redirects his attention to the television.

  Larry watches as Claire and the current program’s anchor discuss what happened during the night. Larry has a smile because he knows that he had the only reporter over the climactic battle.

  Claire answers a question. “All of this can ultimately be traced back to Yuri Osaka and his criminal empire. He had us all fooled, but once his true nature came to light, that was the moment our city became a war zone.”

  Yuri’s lifeless body lies inside his “escape” vehicle. He’s missing his arm, and a pool of blood is beneath it. His body is also riddled with many bullet wounds of various sizes. He was dead either way.

  Claire keeps reporting. “Only the days ahead will tell us what’s happened to him. We don’t have to wait to know that the casualty count from his actions is higher than all of us are comfortable with this evening.”

  The hospital is absolute chaos. There’s standing room only in a packed waiting room. Nurses run in every direction trying to properly triage all the patients who stream in.

  “Where the hell did Mike go?” a nurse complains.

  Tina is between surgeries and helping with triage. She just shrugs. “I don’t know where he is, but I’m going to kill him when I see him again. He just bailed.”

  Keith rocks back and forth on the floor as he looks at the mutilated bodies of Kyle and Mike. There are soldiers clearing the building who spot him.

  A specialist calls to his team leader. “We have casualties in here. Aw shit. Kid, are you alright?”

  Keith ignores the soldier. He can’t speak right now. Too many emotions swirl through him.

  The specialist puts an arm around him and tries to comfort Keith. “Come on, kid. Come with me. I’ll get you some help.”

  Keith stands, but mostly because he isn’t thinking for himself at the moment.

  As the soldier leads Keith out, another door in the apartment building opens. A sloppy looking Gabe Hammington steps out. He has several days of growth on his face and a stained bathrobe the he didn’t even bother to tie shut.

  He spots the soldiers. “Oh, good. Please, I need your help.”

  A sergeant approaches Gabe. “What’s the problem, sir?”

  “My, uh, friend in here. She’s sick.”

  The soldier looks behind Gabe. Swaying lazily is an obvious prostitute who seems to be extremely high, possibly in overdose territory.

  Gabe continues with his blatant lie. “All the excitement of tonight got to her, heh heh. Is there anything you can do for her?”

  “I’ll see if I can get a medic up here. The streets are safe now. I recommend that you get her into your car and take her to the nearest hospital. I don’t know how quickly I can get someone to her,” the sergeant says. “A lot of people need help. Since she’s not bleeding to death, she looks like a lower priority.”

  Gabe shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t know about that. I don’t know her that well. Besides, martial law and all.”

  The sergeant’s tone becomes hard. “You just said that she was your friend! Be one!”

  “Don’t you know who I am? You can’t speak to me like that!” Gabe shouts.

  The sergeant starts to walk away. “I may not know your name, nor do I care, but you’re clearly an addict who likes to bang whores. Stop being a little dick pussy and get her some help! I don’t have time to deal with your self-entitled shit right now.”

  The soldier leaves, and Gabe is left standing in his bathrobe and obvious embarrassment.

  Alex jumps out of the back of his ambulance. He pulls out an injured person on a gurney. He’s excited right now.

  “I need help!” he shouts. “We have an extremely urgent patient here.”

  The trauma team comes bursting out of the doors and rush to Alex.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I’ve got a cop with a gunshot wound, lacerations, and a dislocated shoulder. He’s unconscious and has an extremely weak pulse. I don’t know if he has much left in him.”

  The trauma team takes over. “Thanks, we’ve got it from here. Let’s go!”

  The trauma team wheels the cop off. Alex looks at Carlos’ face as he passes and signs the cross.

  Claire finishes her interview with the D2I anchor.

  “Thank you, Claire. I’m sure we’ll be coming to you for more answers as the days go on.”

  Claire politely nods. “Thanks for having me.”

  Claire walks off the stage and goes over to Larry.

  “Wonderful job, Kid,” he says. “We may have to bump you up to a primetime slot.”

  Claire is emotionally drained. “Sure, Boss, sure. Just make sure that the paycheck gets bumped up, too.”

  “I had a feeling you would say something like that.”

  “Please tell me that it’s finally over. This city isn’t that big; we can’t possibly have an endless supply of criminals with expensive weapons living here. That sounds more like a Yama problem.”

  “You wouldn’t think so,” Larry says, “but the last few months have made me think otherwise. Plus,
we have another problem.”

  “What’s that?” Claire asks.

  “All the alpha males out there.”

  Claire nods knowingly.

  Larry continues. “It’s clear to most that we have a hero here. The trophy hunters may be drawn to our city, trying to coax him out.”

  “Yeah,” Claire agrees, “and they just saw that if you have a tank or a helicopter, you don’t have to worry as much. I hope you’re wrong about this. I don’t think this city can survive another summer like this one.”

  “There are still a lot of other good people out there. Your cop friend is still doing his thing and many others like him.”

  Claire smiles at the mention of Benji. “Well, I know at least one thing is certain.”

  “What’s that?” Larry asks.

  “My psychologist is going to have guaranteed business from me for many years to come.”

  Larry laughs loudly. “Ain’t that the truth. Go home, Claire. Sleep it off.”

  Claire looks around at the busy activity at D2I. “I think I’ll stick around here for a bit. I don’t feel like braving the streets just yet. Even if I know they’re a bit safer now. I have a couch in the office; I’ll be alright.”

  “Okay, Claire, at least use the couch and get some sleep.”

  “I promise I will.” Claire gives Larry a hug. “I know we go at it, Boss, but I appreciate you having my back tonight.”

  Larry hugs her back. “We’re a family here. They always say that you fight with the one who’s most like you. I love you, Kid.”

  Claire squeezes Larry tighter.

  Votary flies back to his hidden lair outside of town. There’s sand beneath him, and the ground starts to open. The sand doesn’t shift as two giant doors slide away to reveal a secret entrance in the ground. Votary flies through it.

  Votary lands in the center of an open room. It’s a rather large complex. There are numerous computers with impressive holographic displays. There are rows and rows of weapons, some of which are in fact firearms.