The Reprisal

by Kelly St Clare

  The guard paused. “Al, you know anything about that?”

  The head guard glanced up from where he was ushering Tina to the others.

  Tina plunged the syringe into his neck.

  Elara was already ripping back the door. Romy closed the gap and thrust the bottom of her palm upwards into the closest guard’s nose, leaving him for Elara to finish off. There was a mess of shouts and grunts to her left as Tina erupted in a flurry. Romy ignored it and spun around the howling guard, collecting his handgun and using the butt of it on the next guard’s head, and again when that didn’t do the trick.

  He slumped to the floor.

  A speaker crackled. Romy turned and saw the one behind had reached for his walkie. Elara punched him in the face. His head rocketed to the side and she followed him, punching him twice more, until he slid to the concrete ground.

  Romy raised the gun, clicked off the safety and pushed it into the base of a guard’s neck as he snuck behind Tina, who was engaged with two others in the narrow confines of the passage.

  “All right, boys,” Romy said between breaths. “In the cell, or this one loses his brains.”

  The fight in front of them stopped and Tina stepped free of the two men, ducking to collect another handgun from the head guard, who was clutching his bleeding neck and gasping for air.

  Elara did the same from the guard at her feet.

  “Leave your walkies, guns, and knives behind. Tina, search ‘em,” Romy said.

  The remaining guards shared a look.

  Tina laughed. “They don’t think you’ll do it, Ro. Maybe they didn’t see that video of you in Cairo.”

  “I feel sorry for them if they haven’t,” Romy said. “Because if so, they might be about to make a big mistake.”

  “She likes kneecaps,” Elara added. "They’re her favourite."

  “Shooting them is therapeutic,” Romy said. “I don’t know why.”

  The guards quickly unclipped their guns and slid them down the hall. They removed their walkies, too, and kicked them toward Elara. Tina patted the men down, removing their other weapons.

  “In you go,” Romy said cheerfully. “Take your injured friends.”

  She shoved the guard in front of her, keeping her weapon trained on him as he dragged the unconscious two inside while the others helped the head guard into the cell.

  “Yikes,” Romy said. “I’d put something on that neck.”

  Elara went to close the door.

  “Oops, hold on.” Tina ran in and lifted the top pocket of the head guard’s shirt. She pulled out a swipe card. “Thanks.”

  “You’ll never escape,” one said as Elara closed the door.

  Romy ignored them and leaned down to collect two of their walkies from the passage floor. She clipped one on to Elara, and shoved the other in her pocket. After a hurried deliberation, Romy grabbed the syringe lying on the ground and shoved it down the side of her boot, pressing the sharp end into a roll of her socks.

  She caught a rifle from Tina, who then chucked one to Elara and proceeded to store various knives around her body.

  “I say we leave the fire alarm for now,” Tina said. “There’s one on each level. Let’s try to get out without detection and use it as backup.”

  “How long do you think we have before Houston sends someone to check on us when the guards don’t return?” Romy puffed.

  Tina tossed back, “I’m only counting on twenty minutes.”

  They wasted no time setting off down the hall, making straight for the elevator. Their prison cell was on the lowest level in the base. They had to get to the highest. Taking the elevator opened up the most options for their escape. After arriving at the top, they could head to the trapdoor through the hangar, or if that was barred, go left or right to the level one emergency exits. If they wasted time running all the way to the emergency stairs at either end of this level, Houston could be on to them because they’d climbed halfway up through the Amach. It was a risk, but a necessary one.

  They reached the elevator and Tina swiped the guard’s card. The doors slid open. They stood, guns trained on the spot people might appear. The elevator was empty.

  Romy pressed number one and the doors closed. The elevator began to rise. They were going straight to the space soldiers. If there was any way to get them out, they would. If not, they’d need to come back for the space soldiers when they had more backup. The exit they planned to use was also on level one.

  “Hey,” Elara said, peering above. “What does a ring around a number mean?”

  “The elevator is going to stop there,” Romy said.

  Tina lunged for the buttons, pushing number seven. “We’ll get off on the level below and wait for them to pass.”

  The doors opened and they filed off, rifles raised, and moved around a passage corner to wait. Tina craned her head around to check the numbers above the elevator.

  Boom!

  A huge, echoing blast sounded from the levels above. The walls of their passage shook, some crumbling rock skittering onto the floor.

  “What was that?” Elara asked, brown eyes wide.

  A high-pitched noise blared overhead and red lights began to flash. The fire alarm was going off, but Romy suspected the current disruption had nothing to do with them, and everything to do with the booming sound they’d just heard.

  “Back to the elevator,” Tina shouted.

  She rammed a fist against the button. The doors opened after what felt like an age. The elevator was empty again, but wouldn’t be for long. People poured out of their rooms into the seventh-floor passage. The elevator doors closed on several faces rushing to reach it and ride to the top.

  “Was that a bomb?” Elara asked once the elevator was moving, echoing her thoughts.

  “Yes. Friends are here,” Tina said. She pressed level one several times.

  Elara replied, “Houston has the cannons. They can’t attack.”

  “That would’ve woken people up. Anyone tries to get in the elevator, shoot them,” Tina said. “And I don’t know what’s happening up there, but if Atlas is attacking, he has a plan.”

  “Is it safe to go to level one when bombs are hitting the top?” Romy asked.

  “It will have to be. We need to head the guards off. They’ll be rushing down to the cell to get us and we’ll be going up. This might be what we need to get the space soldiers out. The hangar will be chaotic. We just need to get up there before we encounter too many guards.”

  Shoot. The doors slid open on level six, revealing another passage crammed full with panicked people woken by the blasts overhead.

  Romy lifted her gun. “Please remain on your level,” she called confidently to the Renegades out in the passage who were pushing to get onto the elevator. “The upper levels of the cave system have collapsed. Spread the word, the elevators are not to be used until further notice.”

  The doors shut on their nodding faces. Only one young woman looked at her oddly.

  Romy repeated these instructions on levels five, four and three.

  “One more level, ladies. Move with confidence once we’re out; use your gun without hesitation. We’re going right, directly to the space soldiers. Then continuing to the exit.”

  “Roger that,” Romy said tersely.

  The doors opened on level two, and they stared at the empty hallway in amazement. The other levels had been packed.

  A canister rolled into the elevator with a soft plink, making a hissing sound. “Gas!” Tina shouted. Elara lunged to kick the canister out.

  Her foot connected with it, catapulting it out of the small space, but the momentum of her sprinting kick carried her outside of the elevator. She whirled to jump back inside.

  “Freeze!”

  The collective click of a group of guns being readied for fire reverberated in Romy’s ears. Elara glanced up at Romy, eyes huge, at least twenty red dots trained on her frame.

  She raised her hands in the air, holding Romy’s eyes.

  �
��No!” Romy lunged for her knotmate. Tina intercepted her, shoving her to the ground.

  “Take care of our guys, Ro,” Elara whispered.

  The doors shut, and Romy shouted, lashing out at Tina. The woman caught Romy’s swinging fist in her hand.

  “Listen, idiot,” Tina shouted. “Do you think you’re any use to her if we get caught?” She let her go and stood, lifting her rifle and panting. “You can’t do shit if you’re caught. Get ahold of yourself.”

  Romy picked herself off the ground, breathing hard. “I could’ve pulled her back in.”

  “Yeah, full of bullet holes.”

  She glared at the woman, but got to her feet and pointed her rifle at the door.

  “New plan,” Tina said, palming all the buttons in the elevator as the doors slid open. “Find a hideout point, then save Spitfire.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The bombing hadn’t abated in the last five minutes.

  Tina eyed the ceiling of level one. “Atlas is clearly attacking, but I have no idea what he’s trying to do. He can’t have been counting on us to get to the cannons from the inside because he’d assume we’d be locked up. What’s his angle? The bomb fire seems too spread out. He should be aiming it all at the hangar, but some of it is way off-target.”

  “Is he distracting Houston from something?” Romy wondered.

  The woman shook her head. “No freakin’ clue. But I don’t want to make a move from the inside in case it screws up his plans.”

  “Quiet, another group’s coming,” Romy whispered.

  They’d made it out of the elevators and now crouched behind a stack of crates in the first-level passage close to the hangar. In this craziness, they could have easily stolen a craft. But the bombs were still falling far to their left and Romy knew any enemy craft would be gunned down in a second by the Amach and the Mandate. They’d attempted to use the walkie in Romy’s pocket, only to find she’d broken it during her tussle with Tina in the elevator. Elara had the other one.

  Romy was one shallow breath away from losing her cool. Houston had her knotmate. Her pregnant knotmate.

  Marching feet sprinted past them. Another team came from the other direction. “The commander wants three teams sent to escort him to the cannons,” a soldier said.

  Romy and Tina shared a loaded look.

  “We’ll head there now. Where are you going?” the leader of the other team asked.

  “There’s a giant crater over the hangar. Commander Houston said to put the Amach girl in the middle of it.”

  No. Romy covered her mouth until they were moving away, then gasped, “Elara.”

  Tina took a breath. “Shit.”

  “He’s going to use the cannons against our side, and Elara to stop them dropping bombs.” Romy peeked to where the cannon team was disappearing. They wore gas masks. “We need to risk screwing with Atlas’s plans now. We know more than he possibly can. We’ll split up. You track the cannons, I’ll get Elara.”

  “Nope, other way around,” Tina said.

  “I’m going for Elara.”

  “Whoever goes after her needs to secure a walkie and contact Atlas. Do you know how to use the walkies to do that?”

  Romy glared at her.

  “Didn’t think so. I’ll save Spitfire, you go save everyone else.” Tina pushed up and poked her head around the crates to check the coast was clear.

  Romy latched onto her arm. “Tina, Elara means more to me than my own life. Please tell me you’ll do everything you can to save her. Tina, she’s. . . .” Romy choked as she reminded the other woman. “She’s pregnant.”

  The red-haired woman hunkered down beside Romy and pulled her into a fierce hug. “We can do this, Ro. You’re the best shot I’ve ever met, and I’m the best at everything else. We got this. Yeah?”

  She took a deep breath and gave a tight nod.

  Tina’s emerald eyes shone. “I will do everything possible to keep her safe.”

  “Thank you,” Romy said. She could name the people she’d trust to keep her knotmates safe on two fingers; Tina was one of them.

  “I’m out of here,” Tina said. On quiet feet, she set off to the left.

  Checking her weapons were in place with fleeting touches, Romy poked her head out to check for company, and set off to the right. She ducked into the first-level storage area and went straight to the bottom shelf on the opposite side to pick up one of the few remaining gas masks. The mask would go some way in disguising her, at least.

  After a panicked moment at the elevator, wondering which direction the group had gone in, she heard a shout echo from her right and set off in that direction, fitting her gas mask on. The cannons had to be on the top level as well, surely.

  She ran, her breath rushing in her ears inside the gas mask, pausing at each corner to check for company. She hid twice to avoid sprinting troops. It seemed they were the only ones up here, and the civilians were being contained on the lower levels.

  Romy sprinted to the next corner and peered around.

  She wrenched back with a sharp inhale.

  Houston was at the end of the next passage—she took another look—with around twenty soldiers. They were outside the doors where the frozen space soldiers were being stored. Her mind flew in circles. Should she just shoot Houston and end this? Romy hesitated, her finger on the trigger. What if someone else knew how to operate the cannons? Until she knew for sure, she couldn’t risk shooting him.

  “Oi!” someone shouted behind her.

  She jumped and spun, spotting a team of soldiers sprinting down the piped passage toward her. With twenty soldiers around the corner, running wasn’t an option. Romy waited for the troop of six soldiers to catch up.

  “What are you doing here, soldier?” the closest soldiers barked.

  “I don’t know where I’m supposed to be,” she answered, spine straight.

  “Who’s your captain?”

  Ah nuts. She let her rifle hang on its strap, and whipped out both of the handguns, firing rapidly: knee, knee, upper thigh, right shoulder, left shoulder. The last one managed to train his gun on her forehead.

  Romy tensed to throw herself to the ground.

  “Rosemary,” said Houston in surprise.

  With a growl, she turned in a lowered crouch and aimed both guns at him.

  Two rows of soldiers closed in front of their leader, each training a red dot on Romy.

  “Come to kill me?” he asked. “I was most displeased to hear you’d escaped your cell. But I figured, we have your knotmate, where are you going to go? So predictable, space soldiers.”

  “I came to save Elara,” Romy lied. To kill you. “Where is she?”

  “Not here, I’m afraid. I’m also afraid I don’t care. You, however, are coming with me.”

  “As long as I can keep my guns,” she said sarcastically.

  The soldiers ripped her weapons from her with rough hands as well as her gas mask, patting her down and shoving her after Houston.

  “Nicely, nicely,” Houston scolded them. “I have plans for this one.”

  He led them through the double doors into the lab and Romy looked helplessly at the frozen space soldiers. The empty cultivation tank was still open, and Houston stroked it as he passed. She frowned and looked past him to the glass window and cages beyond.

  She stumbled, and looked again.

  The cages were empty.

  “What have you done with the space soldiers?” she snapped.

  Houston called back. “I let them out. Nice little present for the Amach.”

  The thought of those creatures set loose made her stomach turn, as sorry as she felt for them.

  “You know the best thing?” he asked.

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “Atlas has brought me back my army of space soldiers.”

  “You already have three hundred,” she said. Though if there was any possible way to change that, Romy would.

  “The frozen space soldiers?�
� he asked. “Oh no, skyling. They are quite dead.”

  Dead?

  He laughed at her horrified face. “I wasn’t sure you’d fall for that one. Dr Charlee certainly wouldn’t have. Frozen space soldiers still need to be hooked up to medi-tech, dear Rosemary. I killed those soldiers weeks ago. By accident. I really did hope synthesising your blood would work, but alas.”

  “You killed three hundred of them?” she choked. He shrugged a shoulder, and she forced back her reaction, not wanting to give him anything. He was a monster, and she should have known better than to believe they were simply frozen.

  “All for a cause, Rosemary. All for a cause.”

  “Your cause,” she said angrily. “All for you! To cure your insanity. To keep your power.”

  His eyes slid to the empty tank and then back at her.

  Her lips parted as she replayed her words, looking at the cultivation tank. They’d been blind. Houston always acted for himself. She’d thought the cultivation tank was for her, but. . . . “You’re going to cultivate yourself,” she guessed.

  His eyes sharpened and she knew she’d hit home.

  “You’re going to reset yourself somehow,” she whispered quickly. “The cure isn’t holding and you’re running out of time. You know you’re losing your mind.”

  Houston’s smile dropped and he made toward her.

  “But you’ll be vulnerable for a long time in the tank. It takes a full year for space soldiers to reset. You can’t be sure you’ll be protected. Is that what your new army will be for, Houston? To protect you?” she demanded. “Or is that for when you wake up?”

  He slapped Romy, and her face rocketed to the side.

  “Your time is running out,” Romy panted, straightening to look at him with a grin. “You’re getting desperate. The noose is tightening. Soon, you’ll be like your father.”

  His eyes widened and he whipped out a hand to grip her throat. “You know nothing of my father.”

  “I know you’re mad, just like him,” she wheezed.

  He laughed. “You don’t know anything about madness,” he answered. “Madness is when you run away from your wife and child and then return months later as if you never left. Madness is forgetting to dress yourself and becoming the laughing stock of the base. Madness is taking a scalpel to your son’s body because you forgot he wasn’t a cadaver, and that you weren’t in the lab any longer.” Houston let go of her throat and drew up his T-shirt.