The Fire and the Free City

by Eric Wood

  If she had tried to retreat back to the stairs, she would have been killed. If she had done anything besides exactly what she did...well, she didn't want to think about it. She also didn't want to think about how much her shoulder, hip, and back hurt at the moment, nor the fact that she still had more fighting ahead of her.

  Roach groaned in pain and seriously debated the merits of spending the rest of the day just laying where she was. Marcus appeared above her, and she realized she still had work to do. She wiggled her fingers and her toes; satisfied that they all still worked, she reached up and offered a hand to Marcus.

  "Bad news, kid," she said. "I'm going to need to use your gun."

  The sounds of gunfire, the explosions, and the screams all became quieter and quieter as Sam made his way further into Warren Air Force Base. The dim, golden light of dusk was replaced by the dimmer, sickly green of the base's interior emergency lights. Much like when they were speeding through the mines earlier, Sam hoped his companions could see better down here than he could.

  Hydra led their group through a series of metallic, pipe-lined hallways. Sam did his best to remain focused on the mission, and not let his mind wander in unproductive directions. Like how Abigail was doing, or the fact that at any moment the base's automated defenses could start back up, or that he was heading further by the second into an enclosed space occupied by at least one Reaper.

  The hallway came to a stop ahead of them at a sealed metal door. Hydra moved up to the door and raised a fist, silently giving the signal to stop while he inspected the lock. Sam checked his radio again to make sure it was still on and tuned to the right band. Marcus had insisted the device Sam wore would have no problem receiving communications from Roosevelt's citadel — something about relays and piggybacking signals that the kid wouldn't stop going on. So many things that could go wrong, starting with this giant henchman taking on this lock...

  Hydra removed a sophisticated-looking set of lock-picking tools from his pack and went to work on the door, his fingers working quickly and nimbly despite their sheer size. After a flurry of small, precise movements, the lock chimed, and a tiny light above it turned green. Hydra nodded back to the rest of the group, and they raised their weapons. He turned the door's handle and pushed it open.

  As soon as he did, the door's electronic hinges took over, swinging it open 180 degrees into the wide, dark room beyond. "Sam. Hydra," a cheery female voice said from within the dark. "Glad you could come. I was wondering how long it’d take you to open that door." Twin flood lights clicked on, blinding them and bathing the room in bright, white light.

  Elena. She stood behind a line of square metal crates, flanked on either side by armed Company agents.

  "Come on in, loves, and bring your friends. How about we have a little chat."

  There was nothing but straight, empty hallway behind them. If they tried to retreat things would become a shooting gallery. There was also no way of closing the door they had just opened. Sam didn't see any other move besides lowering their weapons and doing what Elena said.

  Hydra did not share Sam's assessment of the situation.

  The giant roared and opened up a spray of automatic weapon fire toward Elena and the Company agents, dashing forward into the room as he did so. Alright, Sam thought quickly, it looks like this is happening.

  He took aim at the far-left Company agent and squeezed off a shot from his rifle, missing as the agent dove behind cover. Sam ducked around the edge of the door and into the room, scrambling low and trying not to lose his footing. He quickly identified a column near the room's corner and slid behind it for cover. A half-second later a hail of gunfire cut away a chunk of column not more than a few inches from his ear.

  "Is that any way to greet a lady?" Elena called across the room, her voice crackling with malicious glee. "It almost seems like you people aren't happy to see me."

  Sam looked back toward the entrance and saw one of their teammates lying there dead. Past the corpse, Hydra was hiding behind a column on the far side of the room, and their fourth member was crouched behind him, her hand over a bullet wound in her leg.

  "What, Sam, no more clever comebacks?" Elena said. "Your little girlfriend at least showed a little bit of spirit. Before I gunned her down, that is."

  "Yeah, she mentioned that," Sam called back. "She also mentioned how eager she was to see you again." Elena didn't answer immediately, so Sam added a quick bluff. "She should be here any second, now that I mention it. Might want to keep an eye out behind you."

  "Bullshit," Elena said. After another long pause, she laughed and added: "Nice try, though. But I know what I saw." She didn't seem as sure as she sounded, however, because Sam could hear her whispering to one of the Company agents to watch their rear. Sam took advantage of the brief opening to quickly shoot first one and then the other spotlight, eliminating their blinding glare and returning the room to a greenish dark.

  "Not cool, Sam," Elena said, just before she and the Company agents opened up again on Sam's position. In the strobe-like illumination from the muzzle flashes, Sam watched as Hydra took the opening and ran forward, firing his weapon as he went.

  One of the Company agents caught a handful of Hydra's bullets in the chest, arms, and head. Immediately, Elena and the second Company agent swung their weapons around: their fire pounded into Hydra's vest and tore through his exposed limbs.

  Hydra must have absorbed a dozen shots, but they barely slowed his advance. A final shot from Elena's submachine gun cut a red line across his face as it grazed his skull; he ignored the wound as he threw his weight into the row of crates and sent them — along with Elena — back and into the air.

  A metallic clatter nearby drew Sam's attention. He looked toward the noise and saw that a pineapple-shaped object had come to rest at the feet of his injured team member. He had only a moment to meet her fear-stricken eyes before the grenade exploded.

  Sam rolled forward into a crouch, now exposed in the room's center. Luckily for him, his opponents were still very much occupied with the angry, injured giant in their midst. Hydra had lost his rifle, but in its place he had produced a giant Bowie knife and was slashing at the Company agents, forcing them backward with a series of vicious strikes.

  Sam hurried forward, taking a new position behind one of the forward columns. He was now behind the Company agent, flanking both him, Hydra, and Elena. He rotated around the column and raised his rifle toward the agent, aiming low so an errant shot wouldn't hit Hydra.

  Before he could fire one of Hydra's cuts caught the Company agent in the neck, killing and nearly decapitating him. Hydra was halfway back around and moving toward Elena when a burst of gunfire caught him in the forehead. He fell lifeless to the ground, the impact rattling the walls and setting up a huge cloud up dust.

  Sam spun back behind the nearest column; across the room, Elena did the same.

  "Alone at last, Sam," she said. "Don't pretend this doesn't excite you, just a little bit."

  "That Abigail is going to get here any second and literally tear you apart?" Sam answered. "Yeah, that is pretty exciting."

  He heard a slight rustle and saw Elena dash away from her column, re-positioning herself at the far corner of the room. "You can't really expect me to believe that story, can you?"

  "I don't need you to believe anything, Elena," Sam said. He peeked a single eye around the column’s edge: once he saw Elena wasn't pointing her weapon his way, he moved behind the overturned metal crates and took aim at her position. "In fact, I kind of hope you don't. Abigail will be so disappointed if you run."

  "Hey, I killed her once," Elena snorted. "If she wants to die again, she's welcome to join the party."

  She feinted one direction, then ran in the other, toward Sam's original position. She fired a burst of rounds Sam's way: they pinged harmlessly off of the walls behind him. They now found themselves occupying the exact opposite spots from which they’d started.

  "So now you believe me?" Sam said. "Because
if you do, you probably should run. You don't want to tangle with an angry Reaper."

  Elena laughed. Unlike her almost giddy laughter earlier, this mirth was cynical, weary. "You have no idea," she said. "Maybe I should just leave you all to it; you deserve each other. Somehow, though, I doubt that bearded psycho will pay me the bounty if I bring you to him now. What do you think, Sam?"

  Sam tuned out her jabs, trying to focus his thoughts. Marcus was going to call any second; he didn't have time to continue jawing in the dark with Elena. Sam checked his weapon, confirming he still had plenty of rounds left in his clip. It was time to finish this.

  "Elena, I don't know what to think, anymore," Sam said. "I do know, however, that you picked the wrong side." He picked up Hydra's fallen knife and tossed it toward the column he had just vacated, then dashed as quietly as possible to the opposite side of the room. He took a deep breath and popped from cover, taking aim for Elena.

  She was gone.

  He looked the room over carefully, circling around and confirming she wasn’t hiding in any nooks or crannies. He checked the hallway he had entered from, stepping carefully over the dead guy in the doorway, and saw that it too was empty.

  Whether he had successfully frightened her with the prospect of Abigail's return, or if she had just gotten tired of risking her life down in the dark, Elena had turned tail and run. That, combined with the dead Company agents in the room and the defenders fighting off the assault force on the surface, meant there was now only one other soul down here with him.

  Just him, Vincente's voice said, resigned. We should probably get on with it.

  Sam couldn't argue with the voice's reasoning. He walked forward, toward the base's center, ready as he would ever be for his reunion with Elder Jed.

  51

  Part of Roach — the foolishly optimistic part — had assumed the fighting would be over once they breached the citadel. Once they were inside, this optimistic part of her was quickly proven wrong.

  No real surprise there.

  The main entrance to Roosevelt's citadel led to a wide reception area. Behind this were twin staircase leading up to a balcony and a high glass atrium further above. As Roach entered the citadel, just behind Roosevelt's fire team and just before Rend and Marcus, she saw that the entire balcony was lined with soldiers, each of them aiming weapons down at the invaders.

  Half of Roosevelt's ten men went down in the first volley of fire. The survivors fanned out into the reception area, firing back and moving desperately toward what meager cover was available. Some of the survivor's return fire hit their targets, but more missed. The defenders had an elevated position, as well as good cover, on the balcony, and hitting any of them cleanly would be incredibly difficult. So Roach didn't try.

  Instead, she aimed higher, targeting her pistol at the angled glass of the atrium roof. By the time her clip was empty, huge, deadly shards of glass were raining down among the rebel forces, killing more than a few and scattering the rest. This gave her team, as well as Roosevelt's, the opening they needed to push through to a safe rally point further inside the citadel. Roach pushed the now-empty pistol back to Marcus and picked up one of the dead soldier's rifles as she made her way to relative safety.

  "This is going to take months to clean up," Roosevelt said, looking over the wreckage all around them.

  "I wouldn't worry about that yet, mustache," Roach said. She checked that the rifle she had picked up was the same model she’d lost outside: once she confirmed that it was, she fished a new clip out of her vest and reloaded. "Odds are still about even the Company will be the ones cleaning this place up, and we'll be the ones out in the trash heap."

  Roosevelt's face flashed with rage, but instead of screaming at her, he just laughed. "I don't think so, my little Ravager soldier. We've already made it this far. I think that Cutter is probably already wetting his pants, along with planning his retreat."

  Roach shrugged. "I sincerely hope he's waiting for you above us, and not below."

  They heard shouts coming from above just before a few rebel soldiers rounded the edge at the top of the stairs. A volley of gunfire from Roosevelt's soldiers forced them back.

  "You're certain about this plan, Marcus?" Roosevelt said, looking down at the young man as he, in turn, looked down at his tablet. "Once we split up, there is no going back."

  Marcus looked up at him and nodded. "I am sure," he said. "The labs are the best place to access the mainframe. They're also less likely than the executive offices to be full of soldiers. That’s always a plus for me."

  Roosevelt looked almost sad as he leaned down and patted Marcus on the shoulder. "Well, good luck then, Marcus. I have always...appreciated your loyalty."

  "Thank you," Marcus said. "I won't let you — I won't let anyone — down."

  "Well then," Roosevelt said, straightening and looking to Roach and Rend. "Good luck to you both as well. For what it’s worth, I'm sorry for —"

  "For torturing us?" Roach finished. She shook her head. "Yeah, don't mention it. Just take care of your half of the job, Lawbringer. And don't forget that Cutter is almost certainly a Reaper, so make sure you shoot him in the head. A few times, just to be safe." She turned away without waiting for a response. "Rend. Marcus. Let's head to the labs."

  The hallways beneath Roosevelt's citadel looked a lot like she remembered them.

  Unlike last time, however, Roach wasn't on the run. Today, she was the predator rather than the prey. She would storm the same labs they’d held her in, putting down any of her jailers foolish enough to still be there.

  "Marcus, which way?" she asked, scanning the dark corridors ahead of them with her rifle, eyes peeled for any trace of enemy movement.

  "A right here, and then another right at the next intersection," Marcus said. "After that, the lab is —"

  "The third door on the left, correct?" Rend finished.

  Roach glanced back at him, incredulous. "You remember that?" she asked. "After all this time, and in the condition you were in? I wasn't in half as bad of shape, and all these halls look the same to me."

  "Maybe you just have a dead-nose sense of direction," Rend replied, smiling wide in the low light.

  "Dead-nose?" Roach began. She was about to tell him exactly what direction he could start heading in when she caught a flicker of motion in the gloom ahead.

  She thought she saw someone dash across the hallway up at the next intersection, but if they had, they were moving far faster — and far quieter — than any normal soldier would have been able to. It was possible that her eyes were playing tricks on her, but it was also possible one of those Company Reapers was down here with them.

  Stop trying to scare yourself, she thought.

  She held up a hand, bringing the three of them to a stop. She met Rend's eyes and pointed forward, signaling there was a possible bad guy ahead of them. They tip-toed up to the corner and, after a harrowing pause, quickly swung around the bend, aiming their weapons in either direction.

  She expected to find herself staring down a charging Reaper, or to hear Rend firing his rifle. When neither of those things happened, Roach realized she was holding her breath. She exhaled, the sound of it impossibly loud in the eerie silence of the dark halls.

  "Clear," she finally said, feeling more than a bit foolish at how frightened she had been. Though, better frightened and alive than brave and dead, she thought. "Just a little further now," she said.

  Again she saw a figure dash across the intersection ahead of her. She swore as it disappeared down the hall. She was certain she hadn't imagined that one.

  "What?" Rend said in a harsh whisper.

  "We need to move," Roach said. "Now."

  The latest movement came from the direction opposite where they needed to go — the left, rather than the right — so they moved as quickly as they were able to the next corner, Roach walking backward now, bringing up their rear.

  "Right again," Marcus said. "We're almost there."

  Roac
h found his tone almost shockingly composed. Somehow, Marcus sounded less frightened than Roach felt. Fear was still a relatively new emotion to her, one she was finding she didn't care for in the least.

  Rend checked the path ahead before they rounded the corner. After that, it only took them a few yards of quick, furtive travel before they were at the lab's door. Roach wondered what they would find inside.

  "Crap," Marcus said.

  "Crap?" Roach repeated, still scanning the darkness behind them for their mysterious pursuer. "I don't like the sound of that. What's wrong?"

  "The door's locked," Marcus said.

  "Well, get it unlocked," she replied. She heard a series of clicks coming from behind them, quiet but getting progressively louder. "Quicker would be better."

  "I'm doing what I can, but I'm no locksmith," Marcus said. The clicks were getting louder; Roach was pretty sure she was also starting to hear a low growl in the dark. "It might take me a sec —"

  "Rend, can you please help him?" Roach said, trying to keep composed. "Now," she added, spoken through gritted teeth.

  "Yeah...about that," Rend said. "I think I'm about to be a little busy."

  She glanced over her shoulder toward Rend, who was facing the opposite way down the hall, rifle up and aimed at —

  Shit. There were three of them, side by side. Though they were only armed with machetes, she didn’t think it was going to matter.

  She looked back toward her half of the hallway and saw three more of them. They were dressed in the armored uniforms of Roosevelt's troops, but they were definitely not regular soldiers. At least they're not Reapers, she thought.

  The optimist in her did have one final insight to offer: these freaks answered her questions about why the Company was so interested in obtaining her and Rend's blood.