by T. C. Edge
“Matt, the only ‘special’ person in this scenario is you, my friend,” smiled Derik. “OK, joking aside, I get that there are people designed to track nanotech soldiers. But…vamps? Really? I mean, vampires, Matt. Are you kidding me!”
“Well, that part I’m not entirely sure on,” admitted Matt. “It’s just a cool name, maybe. But…maybe not. Maybe they really do suck the nanites from people’s blood. You know, to fuel themselves, make themselves stronger…”
Derik started laughing. Loudly.
“You young people! The things you believe!”
Matt gave him a moment to indulge himself, staring daggers as he did.
“Fine,” he said as Derik’s laughter calmed, grinding his teeth in exasperation. “Believe what you want about all that. But it doesn’t change the fact that Chloe Phantom is here in our building! That’s the point here. Let’s stick to topic!”
“Says you,” countered Derik. “The guy who thinks she can change the shape of her nose with a thought,” he giggled.
“Forget that,” said Matt firmly, now growing bored of the teasing. “She looked like her, like she did in those old photos. They’re the only ones that really give us a good shot, right? Her eyes, man. They’re blue as the ocean.”
“Don’t go getting all dreamy on me now, sonny. You’re just trying to inject some excitement into your job here. Makes sense. I don’t blame you…”
“No…I’m serious. It’s her.”
“And if it is, maybe you’d be advised to forget it. There are other rumours about her you might want to remember.”
Matt quivered a little. He couldn’t quite put it together, this pretty young girl being a stone cold killer.
“Just…rumours,” he said. “It’s all Chinese whispers. She probably just gave someone a bloody nose once. You know how these things start…”
Derik shook his head and let out a puff of air.
“Right. So now you’re not believing the rumours. You’re being awfully selective, Matthew. You’ll believe she can alter her face, but not that she kills people, often in pretty horrific ways, to stay out of trouble. Does that make any sense to you?”
Matt didn’t answer. Derik took it as a win.
“Look,” he went on. “If - and I’m not saying you are - but if you’re right, and she’s here, then she’s probably already worked out that you know. She’d smart as her dad, that one. It gives her two choices. Leave right now, which she’s probably already done. Or…”
Matt looked up. “Or?”
“Well, you know those rumours about not leaving witnesses…”
The younger man shuddered again, and at that exact moment, a flash of movement drew his eye.
He turned to the security monitor displaying the bank of lifts on level 39 . There was a figure hurrying down the corridor and right for one of the elevators, dressed in jeans, jacket, and solid black boots.
Derik saw it too. His amused tone abandoned him as he saw the girl turn as she entered the lift, a rucksack fixed to her back.
And a knife in her hand.
“Holy shit…” he whispered, just as the lift doors closed. He turned to Matt with widening eyes. “Lock the damn door. I’ll call up top for support. She’s probably coming for us…”
Chloe knew the layout of Sub-Tower 12 like the back of her hand.
Wherever she stayed for a prolonged period, she always made sure she knew her way around. Whether in the wilds, hidden up in the mountains, or tucking herself away in a dusty old town, she always prepared several ways out. And when it came to buildings, escape routes were particularly important.
Right now, however, she wasn’t yet on her way out. Her research into the layout of the pit had revealed it to be a perfect place to hide for several reasons, not least the rather minimal security, and their remit to let most criminal activity slide. There was usually at least one guard per five levels on duty at any one time, meaning no more than twenty covering the hundred floors. And at night, when the lower levels were shut, that number was cut in two.
She also knew that the central control room for the building’s security sat on sub-level 25, right in the middle of the upper residential half of the building. If her hunch about the security guard was right, he’ll have headed straight there.
And that was just where she was going right now.
The elevator rose quickly up through the building, the numbers of the sub-levels flashing above the door as they passed. She listened to the gears grinding beyond her sight, and lifted the knife in her palm. It was six inches long, serrated, and razor-sharp. To Chloe’s great regret, she’d been forced to use it several times before.
Killing was a breach of humanity that hadn’t come naturally to her. Soldiers she could handle. That was war, and though she wasn’t directly involved in the warring of nations on this godforsaken continent, she had her own war to fight. If someone came after her, she’d use all necessary force to get rid of them. Anyone attempting to bring her in, or track her down to gain the reward for her capture, was an enemy in the conflict her life had become.
In such terms she managed to accept that killing was part of her now. And, though she’d probably never get used to the idea of taking life, she managed at least to not think about it too often. In her mind, everyone she’d killed had been complicit in trying to take her. She was merely acting in self defence.
Right now, however, the circumstances were more muddy. She was dealing with a guard who wasn’t really part of all this. She had no proof that he’d recognised her, and even if he had, was that a bad enough crime to warrant his death? Had she grown so damn callous that she’d take a young man’s life on the off-chance that he might be able to grass her up?
The thought gave her pause as the elevator lifted. Chloe knew the reputation she had, all the rumours that had built around her. A lot of it, most of it maybe, wasn’t true. Like all rumours, things started in fact and quickly took a turn towards fiction and fantasy. She didn’t kill wantonly, as people thought. She didn’t merely dispatch anyone who happened to spot her. She analysed things with her sharp mind, before taking the appropriate action. And anyone she took out was always considered a threat.
I only kill bad guys, she thought. I only kill those who hunt me.
The elevator doors began sliding open, and Chloe stepped out onto sub-level 25. She stopped, still caught in two minds, cradling her knife. Above, a little red light blinked at her. She lifted her eyes and saw the camera, before dipping her head once more.
She will have been seen here now a thousand times before, caught on the cameras on sub-levels 75 and 39, as well as elsewhere, over the last few months. She’d done enough to make sure she’d outfox facial recognition if any searches were run, and had taken steps to ensure that any eye-scanning technology wouldn’t spot her either by using clear contact lenses and other such tricks. She had, in more ways than one, inherited her father’s ability to utilise tech on the fly, and understand its many useful functions.
Clearly, it had worked so far. But if the guard had recognised her, then the game was up anyway. Killing him wouldn’t erase her presence from the backup files. In fact, it might just cause more problems. They’d find him dead, conduct their investigation, and work out it was her. It would give them a starting point to start tracking her again.
Not what she damn well wanted.
As her thoughts ran, she found herself slipping the knife back into her belt, hidden beneath her jacket. It didn’t feel right. None of this did.
She shook her head as the decision was made.
She wasn’t going to do any killing today.
Then, turning her attention to the long passage ahead, she began speeding right for the gallery at the building’s core.
Time to take the stairs, she thought.
“What the…she’s heading for the gallery.”
Matt was watching Chloe rushing down the corridor on the security feed, knife slipped back into her belt and legs hurtling for the core.
Derik had just put down the phone, informing those up top that they might - and he was keen to stress the word ‘might’ - have had a sighting of Chloe Phantom.
He returned to Matt’s side, and both men watched on curiously as the girl in question sped towards the heart of the building, and began hurrying quickly up through the floors, quickly disappearing from one security feed and appearing on another.
“Why is she taking the stairs?” asked Matt. “She’s quick, but the lifts are quicker…”
“She must be worried about them shutting down,” Derik said. “If they do, she’d be trapped. She’ll have more control on the stairs.”
“Ah, so you’re convinced it’s her now then,” breathed Matt, watching closely and relieved to see her divert her course.
“A few shades from convinced,” retorted Derik, refusing to relent. “But if it is her, I’m just wondering why she hasn’t come here. ”
“Waste of time,” said Matt. “You said it yourself, she’s as smart as her father. Probably thought wasting time trying to get in here wasn’t going to get her out of the building any quicker. That’s priority one. And, as I said, she’s not some heartless killer. She wasn’t about to murder us just for spotting her.”
“If she had time she might,” countered Derik. “But anyway, if it is her, and they catch her up top, then that’s a pretty good night’s work.” His eyes swam with gold, and he began wringing his hands together. “That reward can get me out of this dead-end job…”
“Oh…yeah!” said Matt. “I’d half forgotten. What’s it up to around here?”
“Not sure right now. But over in the NDSA it’s ten million bucks. Probably about the same here. So hopefully they’ll bring her in, and we’ll get nicely compensated for our heroic part in it all.”
Matt left his eyes on Derik for a moment of displeasure. The old man had done nothing but taunt him. If there was any money involved, it was his.
The thought caused a spring of guilt to work up through him. The girl had seemed pretty sweet when they’d spoken, if a little grumpy. He didn’t want them killing her, really. Though, all the posters did tend to stress the ‘wanted alive’ part, which gave him some solace.
And, well, it was a lot of money. It could get him out of this hellhole for good. He may never have to work again. He nodded and smiled.
It was a good enough deal.
Sorry, Chloe…
5
Chloe’s footsteps were causing an awful racket, echoing right up through the huge central chamber as she went from floor to floor. The meeting of pacing boots and metal decks came with a violent explosion of noise, enough perhaps to spread down the corridors and wake some of the sleeping residents of the various levels.
The cavernous core of the building seemed to be perfectly designed for such acoustics, the hammering of her feet reverberating right down to the depths, and to the summit too. If any wandering security guard heard her and came to investigate, they’d no doubt want to query just what all the rush was about.
Chloe didn’t care. She had no intention of taking life tonight, but she had several methods of disabling people and rendering them quickly unconscious without causing any lasting harm. Mostly, that’s just how she dealt with the innocents who spotted her and might risk exposing her location. She’d knock them out, often with sufficient force to blur their memories, and be long gone before they came to and managed to inform the authorities of what had happened. If they remembered.
As she continued speeding up the floors, that trusty old surge of adrenaline filled her veins. It was a sensation she was highly used to by now, and one that most normal people couldn’t understand. The feeling of being hunted was, though at times frightening, undeniably exhilarating too. She often felt high for hours after any close run-in, her body tingling with that natural flight or fight response.
There was something more to it, though. Chloe had once heard from her father about the effect that certain hormones had on related nanites. When adrenaline was excreted into the bloodstream, the natural reaction with regular people was increased blood flow, heightened rate of breathing, and pupil dilation, all in order to put them on edge and prepare them to either run or do battle.
It was the body’s natural way of ‘powering up’, and could do wondrous things for those caught in states of peril and danger.
For those with certain nanobot augmentations, the release of adrenaline had an additional result. Not only did it cause several of the body’s natural functions to work with greater efficiency, but it did precisely the same with the nanites in the blood. The appearance of the hormone, therefore, would not only ‘power up’ the body, but the nanobots too, allowing those augmented with such tech to operate at a higher level for a prolonged period of time.
For Chloe, the effect of adrenaline was, therefore, doubly potent. She could run faster, and longer, without stopping. She could heal more swiftly, and found that her senses became dialled up to full capacity. Her ability to quickly and efficiently spot danger was raised, and her decision-making speed was granted a boost. She never dithered or delayed. If she knew she needed to run, she ran. If she knew it was time to fight, she’d turn and stand her ground.
Already, rushing up the stairs, she could feel the effect. Her fingers, poking out from the end of her gloves, were starting to tingle. A swell of energy was forming, preparing to be unleashed if needed. The nanobots were gathering, engaging in their task. And this was just the beginning.
Crossing to sub-level 10, Chloe’s focus continued to sharpen. A few figures began coming into view, those who couldn’t afford boxes sleeping rough along corridors and whatever unattended nook and cranny they could find. Despite the noise caused by her feet, few stirred. Those that did merely glanced up as she passed, seeing a blur of movement and little more as she hurried along.
Down one corridor, she heard music playing. It seemed a party of some sort was in full swing, such a rarity here and only ever likely to occur in the upper levels. The higher you got, the closer to the real world you felt. The air was cleaner, the rooms a little nicer. They were the apartments occupied by the ‘wealthier’ residents of the pit, though that was a relative term.
Supervisors, foremen, and factory managers would reside here. Some of the boxes were bigger, intended for couples and even families, sometimes with interlinking rooms. Those who were paid enough to afford them usually had a little bit more disposable income.
Hence the wild celebrations going on down the hall, Chloe thought sarcastically. After what she’d seen in her life, no party could ever be termed ‘wild’.
Now, she was nearing the top. The roof of the building was visible, a strange thought given it was, really, at ground level. All she had to do was pass up the final set of stairs, go through the fire exit, and speed her way through the ground floor atrium and out into the night.
She had her various contingencies. Life on the run required them. And right now, given the circumstances, she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Most likely the guard hadn’t recognised her, and she’d just walk straight out of the building, minimal as its security was up top. Yet, there were several other paths her course might take, and so she had to be prepared.
Reaching sub-level 1, she stopped before the door leading up to the ground floor. She listened closely, for the shuffling of feet or muted voices beyond. For some sign that she might just be met by a welcoming committee in the vestibule.
She heard nothing. A good sign, though not enough to cause any dip in concentration.
Flinging her bag off her back, she quickly rooted around inside, drawing out two black leather wristbands with a small, circular metal contraption on the top. She fixed one to her left wrist, and the other to her right.
They were fashioned of her own design, put together from bits and pieces of tech she’d found in old battlegrounds across the continent. The left wristband was one of her methods of putting people to sleep. It shot tiny darts to that effect, rendering anyone immediately
unconscious upon piercing any part of their skin. The circular device on top acted as a carousel, spinning after each dart to line up the next. Inside, she could store dozens of them, though re-stocking her supplies was always a challenge.
The bracelet on her right wrist, on the other hand, had a rather more menacing function, putting people into a more permanent sleep, rather than a temporary one. The design was the same, though the contents were different, the darts tipped with a deadly neurotoxin that would cause death before the target even realised they’d been shot at. It was a quick and painless way to go, and thus a humane method of taking life, if such a thing was needed.
Fitting the bands, rudimentary in style but highly effective in practice, she replaced the bag on her back and took a long breath. Her wrists were locked and loaded. Her fingers continued to tingle and crackle blue as the nanobots gathered.
It was all precautionary. Hopefully, she’d just walk out the door, no questions asked.
But…she had to come prepared.
“Where the hell are they?! How long does it take to get here!”
Derik was becoming increasingly drawn into the night’s events, partly because it was a rare exercise in excitement, and more prominently because the tantalising prospect of getting a bountiful reward was making him quite agitated. After all his protestations, he was starting to come around to the idea that this was, in fact, the enigmatic Chloe Phantom they were dealing with.
Right now, the two guards were staring at the security feed for the ground floor atrium, which Matt had expanded into a large holographic image before them. On a smaller monitor to one side, the form of Chloe could be seen fixing some odd contraptions to her wrists. At any moment, she’d head through the door and escape. And as yet, the atrium at the summit remained manned by only the sparsest force of guards, who certainly weren’t paid enough to try to prevent ‘the Phantom’ from leaving.