Floor 21- Dark Angel

by Jason Luthor

  And that’s when I realize the Suiciders were just steering us into a trap, because when we turn around, we’re staring down the barrels of a Fury that’s roaring our way. Just like Suiciders, Furies are the worst sort of jury-rigged new tech. They’re modified repulsor bikes, long and vicious looking with two guns strapped up front. The air underneath them’s glowing with the light from their repulsors, the front end of the bike lighting up as its guns starts firing off. When those guns start ringing, my whole team ducks behind a dumpster, pushing up against the wall. The second I’ve got cover, I turn the corner, pick my target, and dump a few rounds into the chest of whoever’s piloting that thing. The guy riding it goes limp, and the bike goes slamming into the alleyway wall, exploding into a ball of fire that travels down the alley.

  “Patel!” I scream. The sergeant’s on my back the second I call him up. “This alley’s a death trap with all of us packed in here. Take your men across and hold down the next corner while we cover you.”

  “Got it,” he shoots back while he motions to some of the guys. I pull a few forward, and we turn the corner to look out onto the street. The second we do, there’s shots coming from behind the shells of cars that are blocking the road. Me and the guys start laying down fire, forcing the raiders to go diving for cover, while Patel and his group rush through the intersection. The same second they’re behind cover, I hear his voice break through my helmet. “In position, sir.”

  I haven’t even had a chance to reply when I’m interrupted by this loud, distorted voice that breaks out through the streets. It’s like everything goes silent as someone starts shouting through the city, except this is way louder than a shout. When I have a chance to look around the corner, I see someone standing on the top of what looks like a modified personnel transport that’s sitting way back behind that wall of cars. Mounted on top is a heavy machine gun that could tear a wall apart and chew through body armor. That’s not uncommon for some transports. What is uncommon’s the rows of speakers mounted on both sides of the vehicle.

  And there, on top of the transport, is one of the most effective killers I’ve ever. Stories go that he’s actually a pretty decent leader. I wouldn’t know, since I’ve never known him outside of a fight. Almost from shoulder to elbow, he’s got tattoos running down his arm, mostly of a really elaborate tree surrounded by three rays of light. He’s standing there without a helmet and just a light combat vest, not too different from the kinds we wear. It’s that head of his though. That distinctive, shaved head. It’s Erin himself, barking into a microphone and his voice booming out of the speakers loaded onto the transport.

  “Good afternoon to you, Central dogs.” His voice bounces down the street with enough volume to make my ears ring. “Congratulations on sneaking yourselves into the Deadlands. Never saw you coming. Not often you come down the Raritan anymore. The lads missed you. Seeing as they haven’t seen you in so long, I’ll be assuming that you’re here for something important. With that said, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut off your little adventure. Can’t be having you wandering through our lands and putting us at risk.”

  The second he cuts off, a noise catches my attention. I turn away from the barricade and look the opposite way down the street, just in time to catch sight of more Furies. Only the cover of the alley saves me when they start firing, since I barely get my head behind the wall before pieces of shrapnel start flying through the air. Immediately, I’ve got my line open with Patel. “You put down some fire on those Furies, and I’ll take out this barricade.”

  “Waiting on your order.”

  “Rockets!” I call back down the line. I’m screaming because the air sounds like a repeating sound of bullets carving up the street. “Explosive on that barricade, now!” One of the boys barks a response as he pops his Pocket Space window and fetches a weapon that’s as long as my leg. The front’s mounted with a pointed explosive tip that’d rip its way into a lot of armored vehicles. The second he’s got it loaded over his shoulder, everyone backs away while I bark into my mic. “Patel, hit those Furies now.”

  “Firing.”

  A second later, I watch as, across the street, Patel’s team turns the corner and starts opening on the bikes that are plowing their way to our position. At the same time, I motion to my guy to fire. He starts turning his corner while I empty every bullet in my mag into the barricade up ahead. While raiders are busy dodging my line of fire, I see the tip of the rocket leaning down the middle of the street and hear the sound of it as it gets fired off. Fire bursts out of the rear end of the weapon as the rocket shoots from the barrel, screaming its way to the target. Behind it, there’s this long, snaking trail of smoke that forms in the air, like some kind of bad omen. Then, everything in front of us goes sky high as a fireball the size of five cars explodes through the air. Suddenly, the sky’s raining with twisted metal that goes scattering through the street, the ground doused in metal piece that go smashing along the pavement. Before the smoke’s even cleared, I’ve already got my men ready to move.

  I’ve got one eye on Patel and his team, who’re putting down enough gunfire that he sends more than a few Furies crashing into the buildings around them. While he’s doing that, I’m barking orders to the people on my side of the street and getting them ready to move. That’s when my earpiece comes to life.

  “Jones here!” I scream over the sound of my gun.

  “Captain.” It’s Dodger. “I’m trying to circle back around to you, but half the streets are closed off.”

  “We’re holding position here,” I say while I duck behind cover, leaving the shooting to my men for a second. “Watch the skies. There are Suiciders making a mess of the streets.”

  “Got it. On my way. It won’t be long. Anne out.”

  The second the line’s closed, I poke my head back out of the alley. What’s left of the Furies have retreated for a second, giving me a chance to wave to Patel. All at once, his team and mine start moving up the street to reconnect with each other. We’ve barely thrown ourselves behind what’s left of the stacked cars when there’s a roaring overhead. “Suiciders!” I shout as I motion for everyone to hit the ground. The next thing I know, chunks of asphalt and concrete are raining down around us. The explosions have barely stopped before the Suiciders are turning, angling back for another pass. I start motioning everyone into a nearby building. Patel eyes me for a second, and then asks just one question.

  “Creep?”

  “We can’t stay in these streets, sergeant!” It doesn’t take much to convince him. He nods and starts leading the men forward. We scramble inside of what looks like it used to be an apartment lobby, and almost the minute we’re inside, I see two or three Creepers prying themselves from the walls. Patel leads the way, firing off rounds as more and more Creepers start waking up. Meanwhile, I’m getting men organized, barking orders to them. “All of you, secure the exterior.” I shout before pointing to another of my guys. “You, break out that repulsion pole.”

  There are shouts of confirmation as the windows lining the building start shattering into pieces, a thousand shards of glass exploding into the air. Bullets are ripping into our position and flooding the lobby. I can’t tell who, but I see one of our guys go down in a heap. His body just goes flying forward as gunfire rips into him, and I have to throw myself to the floor just to avoid having the same thing happen to me. Patel’s barking as he takes a knee, and what feels like endless gunfire starts erupting just as the building around us starts coming alive. The whole place is rumbling, like the gut of some hungry giant, as tendrils start exploding from the rooftop and bursting out of the floors. When the floor buckles, I go sliding along the slick mucous on the ground, the Creep slipping through my fingers and soaking into my arms. I’m still trying to pull myself out of the Creep before a tendril starts wrapping around my wrist, and it takes a quick cut with my knife to free myself. Meanwhile, the building is erupting with howls as more and more Creepers are sprinting down the halls and exploding out of
nearby rooms. Patel, who never shows any emotion, is firing one shot after another as he tries to hold back the creatures. Still, his voice is shaky when he looks back at me. “Captain! They’re going to break through.”

  “Five seconds!” I shout back as I finally get onto my feet and start looking around. I keep thinking that the pole should be activated by now, and that’s when I finally realize that my people are struggling with the Pocket Space generators. “What’s the holdup?”

  “Generators on the fritz, sir!”

  Patel shouts at me again. “More incoming, sir!”

  I flash a look up in time to see a horde of Creepers literally tear through a wall. Just, a whole section of the building collapses as dozens of the things just barrel through. Gunfire rips into the first wave, but each Creeper that goes down just gets right back up. “Damn it,” I whisper as I look at one of the men. “You can’t fix the generator and get those poles?”

  “Not this quick, sir.”

  “What’s your generator’s frequency?”

  We rarely need to change the frequencies on our generators. Still, even though frequencies are long and a pain to plug in, anything’s faster than trying to fix a generator on the fly. As the soldier starts spouting off numbers, I plug them into my generator. There’s a total of eighteen numbers you need, so plugging them in, one right after another while the world is erupting around you, is kind of hair raising. Every so often, an explosion shakes the building, and all I can do is look up and pray the ceiling doesn’t collapse down on us. Suiciders might not be accurate, but you don’t need accuracy to bomb a building to hell. Not that I think about it too long, since the second I punch in the last number, my generator comes to life and pops a window. Immediately I snatch out the repulsion pole and shove it into the arms of one of my guys. “Get it working!” I scream as I run ahead to the front of the store, sliding to a stop behind the wall as another wave of gunfire starts tearing through the lobby. “Lieutenant Anne, are you inbound?”

  Dodger’s Recording 05

  “Captain, I’m looking at a dozen Furies parked on either side of your position and more raiders than I can count all scattered down the block.”

  “Where the hell did they come from? Can you give us a little breathing room so we can start pushing back?”

  “I’m on it. I’m coming in from up the street. We’ll take out as many as we can and try to pin them between you and us.”

  “Understood. Jones out.”

  I motion to Linda Gomez. “They’ve got all their focus on Tommy. Take your section through the back alleys and get in close to the captain’s position. I want you to head up and get some high ground while we distract them down here.”

  She gives me a nod. “The fire escapes around here look like they’re in good condition.”

  “Make sure you have a flamethrower, please. There’s no telling how bad the infestation will be in those buildings.”

  “I’m on my way.” She turns to grab her people, and then I’m taking mine down the street. With the raiders focused on Tommy’s position, we’re free to move. I’m seeing a group of them in the building across from Tommy and even more strung out along the roof. They must’ve moved fast once they realized he was trapped inside that store. At least it gives us time to move down the block. Half the street’s been torn up, probably by Creep, leaving huge chunks of concrete along the road where we’re able to find cover. With our position at least kind of safe, Corporal Yazzie opens a Pocket space window and puts down one of the biggest guns we have in Central. The thing’s practically as long as I am and fed by a box of bullets that’s almost impossible to carry around, which is what makes Pocket Space so convenient. As soon as she’s got the ammo belt fed into her gun, I take a few of the guys on a sprint down the road, to a corner closer to our target.

  I’m worried, obviously. Yazzie’s sitting behind cover but she’s still in the middle of the road, and at that second, I’m just hoping Linda’s safe. It’s not something I can focus on though, not with our target straight down the street from us. The minute we’re behind cover, I look back at Yazzie and give her a huge thumbs up. She nods before popping her head over the concrete wall she’s hiding behind, and I watch her make sure that huge rifle of hers is balanced on the ledge. A second later, she’s squeezing down on the trigger. When it comes to life, all you hear is snap snap snap, over and over, while she’s firing on the enemy. Between the sound of every bullet, I can hear casings ringing as they hit the ground, jingling noises spilling through my ears. Colonel Martin once called the sound “the chimes of war.” Pretty poetic.

  Anyway, with that huge rifle firing off, the street gets ugly pretty fast. Suddenly, there’re Raider just crumbling to the ground. Yasmine sweeps her gun across the street, turning her gun in semi-circles to spray the whole road, and all you see is raiders hitting the floor as the bullets fly by. It doesn’t take them very long to realize they’re getting shot at from behind, which is when me and my group get to work. We round the corner and start firing into the crowds as they’re diving into alleys or nearby buildings, and in a couple of seconds, there’s another pile of raiders collapsing into the concrete. Bodies go falling as men fall from their bikes and onto the pavement. Some of the Furies get away, but not all of them. One driver gets hit and goes tumbling from his seat, while another goes zooming into a wall and exploding into a ball of fire. In the middle of it all’s a transport that has to have about five layers of armor on it, because it absorb everything Yazzie fires at it while barely taking a scratch.

  Immediately I realize something’s wrong when I see someone pop up from the top. I’m not even sure how I missed it, but the transport’s got a gun mounted along the roof, a gun that’s easily bigger than the one Yasmine’s got. A half second after we spot this huge weapon, you can hear a whirring sound as the barrel starts to spin. Half a second after that, the whole street’s being torn apart as more bullets than I’ve ever seen in my life start firing our way. Yazzie goes slipping beneath what little cover she’s got as literally a river of bullets goes sliding along the barrier she’s behind. I can see her pressing tightly into the ground and covering herself as the street around her goes exploding into chipped bits of concrete and ricocheting bullet fire, concrete evaporating and grey clouds filling up the air around her.

  Someone on my group pushes tight against the wall, and I can hear him breathing hard. “What the hell? Did they strap a minigun to the top of that thing?”

  “I don’t know what else it could be,” I scream back. “Does it really matter? Yazzie’s pinned down, and I don’t know if we have a clear angle on the shooter.”

  “So, what’s the order?”

  Hell if I know. Obviously, I don’t say that. Instead, I look away for a second as I talk into my mouthpiece. “Gomez? You have a position?” There’s a second when she says nothing, and I’m just hoping that she’s okay. “Gomez?”

  “Lieutenant, we just got lined up. I’ve got a sight on that transport.”

  “You can take out the shooter?”

  “I’ve got a clear shot.”

  “Good. Take it, and then we’ll move up.”

  “On it.” The second the transport stops firing, I poke my eye around the corner and watch. There’s a long second when everything seems to slow down, and then I hear one, really loud gunshot crack the air. Before I can blink, the gunner just slumps over and goes sliding back down into the transport. The second he does, the transport stops moving, the gun up top going complete quiet. When it happens, I can feel my smile stretching across my face, my thoughts already going to Tommy and rescuing him. Yazzie’s rushing to join back up with us, her legs just carrying her as fast as possible across the street, and I’m getting ready to move everyone to our next position.

  “Linda. You there? Great shot, Gomez!”

  “Thanks, lieutenant. I—”

  And . . . that’s when an explosion tears the side out of the building. One second, I’m smiling in the direction of the window s
he’s leaning out of, and the next, I’m screaming as the entire side of the building goes erupting into the air. Just . . . these huge pieces of steel and concrete get sent flying skyward as Suiciders go streaking by. There’s no bodies, not from where I’m watching. It’s like they were all just . . . disintegrated. It all happens so fast that I don’t realize I’m standing halfway out of the alley, not moving, and the next thing I know, I feel my right shoulder pop back. All of a sudden, I’m tumbling backward, and only Yasmine keeps me from bashing my head against the back wall. I’m not even sure what’s happened until I feel the worst burning I’ve ever felt in my life, like someone’s holding the tip of a hot iron bar against my shoulder. I immediately grab to see what’s going on, but when I pull my hand away, my glove’s completely soaked in blood.

  “What the hell?”

  Yazzie’s dragging me deeper into the alley while the pain starts spreading into my chest. I’m breathing so fast I actually think I’m going to faint, and she leans into my ear. “You’re shot!”

  “Wh . . . what?”

  She can’t even respond, because a second later, the rooftops above use is exploding into huge chunks that are just pounding the alley. Everyone covers themselves as big pieces of the building come raining down, literally slamming the ground around us. I see someone collapse when a piece hits them right across the head, while everyone else dives out of the way before pieces of the roof kill them. When I finally turn my head up, the sky’s completely choked with Suiciders. There’s more than I’ve ever seen in my life, like dozens and dozens, and the air’s clogged with the smoke trails of rockets that are tearing the rooftops apart.