Oblivion: The Complete Series (Books 1-9)

by Joshua James

  Ada poked her head around the corner near the door to the roof. “You okay?”

  “We got company!” yelled Ben.

  “What?” Ada was confused. “Who?”

  “I dunno, but they aren’t here to talk.”

  “We have more weapons on the roof. Shouldn’t we—?” Tomas was about to suggest that they go back upstairs to the roof and grab the guns LaFey had stored up there.

  “We can’t go back up there,” Ben said. “They have a bead on it.”

  A moment later, he and everyone else in the New Dawn heard a loud noise from up on the roof, accompanied by the whole building shaking. “Shit, they must’ve landed something up there.”

  “You assholes aren’t being good guests,” LaFey cracked. She seemed surprisingly calm.

  Ben ignored her. “Okay, Tomas, you stay up here, cover this door with Ace. Ada and I will go downstairs and deal with anyone trying to come through the front door.”

  “What about me?” asked Francesca as the rest of the group armed themselves and got ready for a fight.

  “Stay here with LaFey. Stay in cover, out of sight,” answered Ben.

  “I wanna help!” Francesca insisted.

  “I know, but not yet. Once we’re out of this, we’ll teach you how to shoot, but right now, in a fight, you’re a….you aren’t safe.” Ben turned to LaFey, who calmly ate her noodles. “Look after her, please?”

  “Yeah, yeah, not a problem. She’ll be fine,” LaFey nonchalantly responded. Ben didn’t know if that worried him or if it was strangely reassuring. Maybe she knew something the rest of them didn’t.

  Ben hurried downstairs to street level. Ada was already set up behind the counter, gun trained on the entrance. Ben quickly looked around, making sure there wasn’t a back door or a window or any other potential point of entry for the enemy. He saw none.

  “I hope that LaFey bitch has something up her sleeve,” Ada hissed. “Because where one of these assholes is, more of them are sure to follow.”

  “They weren’t like normal Oblivion,” Ben said. “They were trained. Competent.”

  “Great,” Ada said. “Just great. How about telling me some good news?”

  Before Ben could reply, the main doorway erupted with the sound of automatic gunfire.

  LaFey opened up her HUD. Her business had its own built-in defenses, and the first was the most obvious: the guns above the front door.

  LaFey shoved another mouthful of noodles in her mouth while she waited, until she saw the commandos clearly in her front door cameras. Once a couple of bald heads showed themselves, she started the fun.

  “Fire,” ordered LaFey. The two commandos were torn to pieces by the automated turrets.

  The problem was that as effective as they were, they had limited ammo. After downing the two men, they were out. And unfortunately, quite a few more had arrived since Ben had shot one of them.

  “Come on over here, kid,” instructed LaFey. She’d gotten up and walked over to the food dispenser. It was old, and there was a depressing array of ancient leftovers and condiments on top of it. She pulled it open, then said, “Come on, get in.”

  “I’m not getting in a—” Francesca started to protest until she reached LaFey and saw what was inside. The main dispenser rack slid forward to reveal a dimly-lit opening that clearly went through the back wall of the apartment. “Is that—”

  “It’s our ticket out of here. Now get in and wait for the rest of us.”

  Thirty-Five

  Ace stood against the wall on one side of the stairwell leading up to the roof. Tomas was opposite him. Both waited and listened as commandos from the roof tried to bash their way in.

  “So that’s bad news,” Tomas offered.

  “I don’t think they’re falling for the camouflage canopy,” Ace agreed.

  “We have to get them off that damn roof.”

  One heavy blow after another echoed throughout LaFey’s apartment.

  “I got a little something for them,” Ace said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something no bigger than a pistol recharge pack.

  “What the hell is that?” Tomas asked.

  Ace just smiled and held it up. “Battery,” he said. “A little gift from one of the police robots on Sanctuary Station-33.”

  “What good does that do us?”

  Ace smiled. “Highly combustible,” he said, as he started to jury-rig a homemade grenade.

  Tomas smiled. “I guess you aren’t all bad.”

  “I have my moments.”

  Ace tensed as he heard something smash against the door to the roof. “Down!” he shouted as he turned out of the hallway and around the corner. Tomas had just done the same when the door, smashed and mangled, was blown off the frame and bounced down the stairs, landing in a pile of scrap at their foot.

  Ace nodded at Tomas. They heard the commandos whispering to each other as they slowly descended the stairs.

  Tomas blindly fired a couple of rounds around the corner as Ace pulled the adhesive off the outside of his improvised explosive and tossed it up the hill.

  There was a panicked shout a moment before the homemade bomb smacked against the top step and exploded.

  Truth be told, Ace didn’t know how combustible the battery charge would be. It was so violent that he was thrown off his feet. He struggled to regain his balance, and felt blood coming from his ears. Tomas was screaming something, but Ace couldn’t hear him.

  The explosion had sent one of the commandos flying down the stairs. He was clearly dead, but Ace shot him in the head anyway.

  Then he turned the corner and unloaded up the stairwell. After a moment, Tomas joined him.

  Ace wasn’t sure what he was shooting. Smoke and debris filled the stairwell. There might have been a couple of mangled corpses up there, but it was hard to tell.

  But there were more up on the roof. At least two, and possibly more. Ace shot one, and the others fell back.

  “Come on!” Ace screamed.

  Tomas shouted something back and reached out to grab his shoulder, but Ace shrugged him off. He was going to kill these commando cowboys if it was the last thing he did.

  He was halfway up the smashed stairs, still trying to figure out just how to actually pick his way up to the roof, when movement up above caught his attention once again. He froze, but it wasn’t another commando at the doorway. A metal frame floated in and out of his vision. Something big was just beyond the opening, floating in the air.

  He was seeing the uppermost frame of a gunship, Ace realized. It was close, too. Very close.

  Something on top of the gunship flashed brightly.

  Tomas grabbed him again, and this time succeeded in spinning Ace around.

  Ace still couldn’t hear very well. Tomas was screaming; that much was sure. The muscles in his neck were popping out. But Ace could only hear dull static.

  But he could read his lips well enough.

  “Missile!” Tomas screamed as he jerked Ace off his feet a moment before what was left of the stairwell exploded.

  The blast wave and pieces of concrete combined to throw both Ace and Tomas out of the stairwell and halfway across the room below it.

  Ace’s last thought before he blacked out was how pissed he was that now he wouldn’t get to kill those damn commandos on the roof. The gunship had ruined it for everyone.

  LaFey snatched up Ace and Tomas and threw the two soldiers onto her, one on each shoulder, and made her way to the food dispenser. Powered by her self-installed augments, LaFey could easily manhandle the two larger men without breaking a sweat.

  She opened the dispenser, pulled out the rack to reveal the opening into the wall beyond, and unceremoniously dropped them in. She shouted out for Francesca to grab them, then slammed the door shut again.

  “Two to go,” she said under her breath.

  Thirty-Six

  “Concentrate fire on the entrance,” Ben said. “We need to make sure they don’t get in. Make it too costly t
o keep trying.”

  Ada fought the temptation to tell Ben that she had more hand-to-hand tactical training from boot camp than he’d gotten in his whole career as a fleet officer. Instead, she gritted her teeth and kept her rifle aimed at the entrance. Always better to humor officers, after all.

  Sparks flew from the inside of the front door.

  “They’re cutting through,” she said. “Probably with a plasma torch.”

  Ben wiped the sweat from his forehead. Ada was worried about him. He looked like he might pass out from the heat and exertion.

  “Stay centered and concentrate,” Ada said. “Squeeze off good shots. We don’t need to waste ammo.”

  Ben scowled. “I know.”

  A thick cloud of smoke blew down the hall, accompanied by a loud clang, as the center of the metal door fell to the floor. Ada braced for commandos to emerge from the smoke, but instead, a single flash grenade slid across the floor.

  “Cover your eyes!” yelled Ada as she turned her head away, a split second before the flash grenade went off. Immediately her ears rang, and she felt the concussive blast in her chest. But her eyes were spared.

  Despite not being able to hear, she once again took her position, rifle pointed at the front door.

  Again, the commandos didn’t come. Instead a rain grenade was tossed in.

  Rain grenades were given that nickname because of how they worked. First a small charge would go off, sending another charge up into the air. Either the secondary charge reached a preordained height or hit a ceiling, whichever case it might’ve been; that one then blew up, sending razor-sharp shards of shrapnel in all directions.

  Ada didn’t hesitate. She ran over towards Ben, who was clearly feeling the effects of the flash grenade. Ada was sure he didn’t see the rain grenade.

  Tackling and shielding Ben at the same time, Ada pinned him against a wall, using her own body to cover his. She wrapped his mechanical arm over her back and around her head to prevent a potentially fatal injury; then she yanked his leg over hers and hoped for the best.

  Much of the razor-sharp shrapnel hit Ben’s artificial limbs, but at least some dug into Ada’s side. Pain blossomed there, but there wasn’t time to recover. She twisted back over onto her knees, gritting her teeth against the pain, and raised her rifle at the door once again.

  Two strategically-used grenades, and she hoped there wasn’t a third. At this point, she’d prefer that the commandos come storming in.

  She got her wish.

  A couple of pairs of glowing red circles appeared in the smoke. Ada opened fire as she tried to reach cover. One of the pairs of glowing red eyes went down, only to be replaced with two more and a whole lot of returned gunfire. Super-heated high-velocity bullets flew from the hallway near the entrance.

  Ada dove to the ground, desperately trying to get around the corner and find some cover. She was pinned. The pain from the shrapnel in her side was like a fire in her chest.

  She rolled over, and figured she was dead.

  Then she heard someone to her left scream, and spun around to see Ben running wildly at the doorway.

  “Ben!” Ada screamed, but he was around the corner and charging forward into the smoke, firing his rifle, before she could react.

  At first Ada could only hear muffled gunfire. Then she heard the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, and the gunshots stopped.

  Ada quietly crawled forward, dragging herself to the edge of the hallway. She peeked around the corner, looking for any sign of Ben.

  Then she saw him on the floor. He must’ve been knocked out for a second, because he was just coming to, trying to gain his bearings. Two bald commandos in full-body armor stood over him, with their guns pointed at his face.

  Ben raised his hands. They were empty. His rifle was gone.

  Ada raised her own weapon, about to fire, when a half-dozen more commandos approached through the smoke. They all stood over Ben, looking down with glowing red eyes, but none of them pointed a weapon at him. Instead, the first two lowered their weapons as well. Then they simply stepped over Ben like he was just another dead body in the street.

  Ada pulled back around the corner to avoid being seen and almost ran smack into LaFey, who’d slipped up behind her.

  “Shit,” she mouthed. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “You’re bleeding,” LaFey said, pointing at Ada’s side.

  “I’m fine.”

  LaFey put her hand on Ada’s shoulder, and even that light pressure made her grimace.

  “It’s okay,” LaFey said. “I got him. Go upstairs into the apartment. The food dispenser’s already open. Climb in. The others are already in there. It’s safe.”

  Ada stared at her. “What are you—”

  “It’s a safe passageway. You’ll see.”

  Ada motioned behind her to the hallway. “There’s no way you can take them all. I’ll help y—”

  “I’ll be fine. Go! Now!” With strength that caught Ada off guard, LaFey pulled her away from the corner and upward onto her feet. Then she winked at Ada.

  Ada staggered to keep her feet. As much as she hated to admit it, LaFey was right. She was useless, so she did as she was told. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t see any other choice.

  Plus, part of her felt like the quirky shop owner was more than capable of defending herself.

  Gunfire exploded all around Ben.

  For a moment, he though the commandos must have come to their senses and decided to shoot him.

  He rolled over, desperately looking around for his rifle in the smoke of the destroyed hallway. Dirt and rock were everywhere.

  One of the commandos grunted and collapsed right next to him.

  Then another, and another. Ben heard more gunshots, mixed in with screams and even begging.

  And then the shooting simply stopped.

  Through the smoke and his own concussion, he couldn’t see what went down. He only saw the last person standing: a calm LaFey, covered in blood.

  “How about we get the hell outta here, kid?” she asked Ben, holding out her hand.

  “How did you…” Ben stared at the bodies all around him. “Never mind.”

  He got to his feet, still woozy, and started to head out the front door, assuming the others were out there already.

  “Wrong way,” LaFey said.

  Confused, Ben followed her upstairs to her apartment. “Uh...”

  “Ben!” Ada said. She was at the door of the food dispenser.

  Ben frowned. “What the hell is going on?”

  Ada held open the door. Beyond the main racks of the dispenser was a hidden door. Beyond that, Ben saw that there was a dimly-lit opening that went into the wall of the apartment. “Everyone’s down there?”

  “Except Morgan,” Ada said.

  “Clarissa,” LaFey corrected. “And that bitch can’t be moved. Not in her state. She’s going to be lucky if she lives at all.”

  “You said—”

  “I know what I said, and this is what I’m saying now. She can’t be moved.” LaFey shook his head. “She’s an agent. She’ll be fine. We can’t stay here. Besides, she’s not who they’re after.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “Who are they after?”

  LaFey watched Ben’s face closely. “I have an idea.”

  Ben didn’t like that one bit.

  “Where’s this going to take us, LaFey?” Ada asked, hooking a thumb back at the opening behind her.

  “Somewhere safe. Now get in.”

  Ben nodded at Ada and stepped in. “I’m starting to understand why you were so much calmer than the rest of us, LaFey.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, before she stepped in and closed the door behind them.

  Thirty-Seven

  A black vehicle landed outside of the New Dawn Bio Hacks. It was smaller, but better-armored and armed, than the others belonging to the commandos that had besieged the building. Inside were two people, both far more dangerous than the comm
andos they had trained.

  First out of the ship was a very tall, skinny, but wiry strong man named Ducar. He was in command of the elite Oblivion warriors known as heralds. Unlike his subordinates, he didn’t have a shaved head. Quite the opposite: he had long black hair that receded into a widow’s peak.

  After Ducar, out the other side of the black vehicle, came a short, powerfully-built woman. Her name was Vesta. The sides of her head were shaved, and a scar ran from the crown of her head to the middle of her left cheek. A smear of blood across her eyes and the bridge of her nose stood in stark contrast to Ducar, who only had a small tattoo of a bloody hand on his neck.

  “Did you acquire the target?” Ducar asked before the herald who came up to him could even say a word.

  “Well, no. The thing is, they were more d—”

  Ducar quickly unholstered his large-caliber pistol and blew the herald’s head off before he could even finish his sentence.

  “Where is he?” Vesta grabbed one of the heralds by the throat. She squeezed hard enough to hear a popping noise.

  “They’re inside somewhere,” explained another herald, who talked as he watched Vesta squeeze the life out of his fellow warrior. “We believe there’s a hidden room or trap door or something. Right now our men are tearing the place apart looking for them.”

  “What are we waiting for, then?” asked Vesta as she dropped the herald. “Let’s go get our saviors’ prize and kill the rest.”

  Ducar, armed with his pistol, entered the shop’s destroyed front hall.

  The first thing Ducar noticed was the dead bodies. Their target’s group was efficient fighters, judging by all the deceased heralds. No matter. These were expendable people, just meat and bone trained to be thrown into the grinder.

  Vesta knelt down next to the spot on the floor where Ben had fallen earlier. She ran her fingers across it, sniffed the air.