Floor 21- Dark Angel

by Jason Luthor

  I try not to think about it too much.

  Being out in the Deadlands, walking between buildings, it takes me back to before we found Central. It’s easy to live in Central for a long time and forget about how much the Creep’s taken over since the August War and the Following Fall. Even when the Creep’s thin, everything’s bombed out and unpowered. Getting back into it, passing along buildings and seeing all the destruction, it’s just a reminder of how much work’s left to do.

  Probably one of the worst sights is the Creepers who still have some memory left of what they used to be. The human’s long gone, but there’s some shred of a memory left behind. It’s easy to see. As I’m walking for hours and hours, I spot Creepers standing at bus stops, not moving. Like . . . that was the last thing they were doing before they died. Then the Creep got them and left them in some zombie like state. I’ll pass an armored transport and see a Creeper sitting in the back, a helmet on his head, like he’s still living through the memory of some war that ended a long time ago. It’s sad, really.

  In my heart, as I’m walking through it all, I keep thinking of my friends, then Mandy and Cynthia. But, I also keep thinking back to my parents and the Tower. Makes me realize Dodger was right. We’ve blown off going back too long. People back home deserve to be free, as much as the people of Central. It’s one more promise I make to myself as I keep walking toward the Northwest Creep Colony. When everything’s done with the raiders, we’ll go back and free the Tower. They deserve that much.

  This is all running through my mind as the Creep starts peaking. Entire buildings are covered in living tissue and tendrils running back and forth. The sky starts to go black with the Darkness, that dark cloud that covers the sky when the Creep’s at its thickest, and the air around me’s covered in an orange and red haze. Those dog looking Creepers, the Bulgas, run in packs along the ground. Their jaws snap as they pass by, their clawed tendrils probing the air. Sometimes they look my way, but it only takes a thought from my mind to basically order them to keep moving.

  I’m so focused on making sure they keep their distance, I almost don’t notice the huge claws rising up into the sky. They’re the size of buildings, just massive bone structures dripping with saliva and with muscle and tissue forming the base. The structure I’m looking at is a few city blocks of a circular formation of slippery muscle and bone arms that stretch into the sky. These huge orifices filled with hundreds of rows of teeth line the ground, squeezing and releasing giant mucus blobs and dark mists that blacken the air. It finally clicks to me that this is the reason I’m in the Creep. For this thing. The Northwest Creep Colony. I just stare at it for a long time, feeling the case in my hand shaking, like the device inside is reacting to the Creep itself. That catches my attention, and I look down at the case and wonder if that’s supposed to happen.

  Jackie’s Recording 22

  I’ve been a lot of pretty impressive places in my life. The Tower turned out to be some sort of ark to save humanity from destruction. Central Freedom’s pretty amazing to think about, a refuge for humanity and its brightest hope for the future. Still, I can’t help but feel like a kid as I’m standing on the deck of the command bridge of the Dynamis. It’s a circular room with people at control stations everywhere and this massive forward viewing area. From where I’m standing, I can see Central Freedom, way out on the edge of the world and across the river. Now, I’m not really familiar with the ship’s commander, Commander Petrovic, but I’m able to go just about anywhere as long as I stay out of the way. So, for a second, I take it all in. The world. When I’m flying, everything is moving so fast I barely have time to enjoy myself. Here, on the bridge, without the wind hitting me in the face, I can actually take in the view and see just how big it all is. Across the bridges and on the mainland, towers stretch for hundreds of miles into the horizon. It’s pretty amazing to think that at one point, hundreds of millions of people lived in an endless sea of concrete and steel, in skyscrapers a hundred stories tall.

  It’s not just the view that’s impressive though. It’s more like I can feel the raw power of the ship. There’s a humming in my feet from the main reactor, a Pocket Space engine that can generate all the power a ship this big needs to stay in the sky. Ahead of the command chair is the tactical pit, where stairs lead down to a command table. There, a rectangular holographic projection is showing all the terrain ahead of us. I figure out pretty quickly that the red dot at the center is us, but we’re the only blip on the screen. Probably because we’re the only ship in the air.

  A voice from one of the control stations announces, “We’re picking up flyers inbound from the colony.”

  Petrovic answers back, “As expected. Power up the forward batteries and clear the way.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Even while they’re talking, I can see about a dozen smaller red blips coming up on the tactical projection. At the same time, when I look up, I see a cloud of Rocs. I can’t make out any details from this distance, but I’ve read up enough about them that the images are stuck in my head. Gaping mouths and small clawed ridges on their torsos that are held in the sky by massive wings. And, if Yousef’s to be believed, their spiked projectiles can punch a hole clear through a tank. So yeah, the whole time I’ve been aboard the ship, I’ve been a little worried about what a fight with the flyers would be like.

  But, it turns out that it’s pretty anticlimactic. Maybe I’ve just been underestimating how much firepower the Dynamis is carrying, because I almost gasp when I start seeing the cloud ahead evaporating into nothing as a stream of heavy gunfire pours into the crowd. Streams of gunfire empty out of the forward guns in endless salvos, tearing everything ahead of us into small pieces. After watching it all happen, it’s pretty obvious what 50 caliber bullets will do to living creatures.

  I can’t help but ask, “You’re telling me this ship’s got a problem facing off against flyers?”

  That seems to annoy Petrovic though. He turns slightly in his chair. “Sure, it seems all fun and games when you’re taking pot shots at only a few dozen of them. Imagine hundreds of them. Or thousands. An agitated Creep is exactly what we want to avoid, because we just won’t have the ammunition to keep up if the sky ever goes dark with them.”

  “Oh.” It’s a pretty sad response, but honestly, it’s the only one I’ve got. “Well, I’m heading down to load up.”

  “Just make sure you check in with the deck chief to know when and where you’re launching from.”

  “Yes, sir.” It’s weird saying that to someone I barely know, but I’d be pretty pissed if I was captaining a ship and some stranger, even someone like me, didn’t show a little respect. Anyway, I don’t waste time heading below the command deck and onto the flight deck. When I’m inside the Dynamis’ hangar, I remember just how big the place is. It’s practically like stepping into some huge cave. The flight deck opens from the back to let aircraft fly out, and the ship’s carrying its full complement of fighters. Well, it’s mostly fighters in the hanger, but they’ve also got some bombers and a few Vertwings. They’re all lined up in rows. Good thing about repulsor technology’s that you don’t need a lot of runway to get these things in the air. It’s basically just lift and fly.

  Not that I have much time to admire all the flight crews running around and getting pilots prepped. After I check in with the deck chief, I make my way over to the side of the hangar, where the “decs” are. At least, that’s what they call these things. They’re actually pneumatic launch tubes for power armor infantry. Honestly, I don’t like the look of them. They look like round coffins built into the sides of the hangar, away from the aircraft. A door slides open, you step in, then your body gets compressed by high pressure. Not that you feel it, in the armor. Next thing you know, you’re getting fired out into the open skies below. The high velocity launch is supposed to make sure that no troopers get shot down in the air, but it’s not something I’ve ever done before and not anything I’m looking forward to.

  Tha
t’s about when I realize I must be staring because I realize someone’s looking straight at me. It takes me a second to turn around and see this huge, hulking person, all suited up in power armor, but it’s one of those big ones. My suit might be more advanced, but the suit of armor in front of me’s impressive. I mean, it’s so big that it makes normal power armor look small. Anyway, it doesn’t matter how many layers of armor and servos are wrapped around her, the girl staring at me looks like she’s staring into the face of the sun. Her eyes are wide as headlights and her mouth’s hanging so low that it looks like it’s about to fall off. I turn a little to look at her, my arms still crossed over my chest as I ask, “Can I help you?”

  “Ah. No, sir,” she stammers. Her mouth’s flapping but there aren’t any words coming out for a second. “I just, ah, I realized we’d be launching side by side together, and I . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just . . . I wanted to tell you what an honor it is, sir.”

  I half want to smile, half want to vomit at someone calling me ‘sir.’ I decide it’s best just to smile. “You really don’t have to feel honored or anything.”

  “But, sir, I’ve—”

  “And cut it with the sir thing, huh?”

  “Then, Dark Angel.”

  I sigh, but I smile again. “Yeah, I guess that works. It’s technically my call code, right?”

  “Honestly, maybe, but that’s not what we call you in the decs.”

  “The decs?”

  “Descent engineered combatants. Anyone who launches.”

  “Oh.” I nod at the launch tube in front of me. “So, you armored troopers got your own thing you call me?”

  “Yeah. It’s, uh, it’s Heavy Metal.”

  It makes me snicker. “Dang. Why couldn’t they give me an awesome nickname like that when I lived back in the Tower? I kind of like it. Where’d you get that name?”

  “We’ve seen film of you. And, we actually saw you, the night you got into it with that one guy. Mike. Your fighting rocked so hard it was like heavy metal.”

  “Well, that fight with Mike’s not the best of memories, but okay. What did you think though? It looks like you were impressed.”

  “Yeah. I mean, your armor’s tougher than what we wear, you carry more weapons on you than we can, you can take a beating like nobody else and dish it back out. That’s just . . . metal. I can only dream about being as good as you at this when I get more experience. It’d probably help if I got my hands on armor like yours.”

  “I hate to let you down, but there isn’t any other armor like mine. Experience, though? You’ll get that. What’s your name?”

  “Devleena Kumar, sir. The decs just call me sarge or Kali.”

  I sigh as I give up on trying to get her to stop calling me ‘sir.’ “And how old are you?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  She’s older than me. God. Doesn’t mean she’s not young, obviously. “Are all of Yousef’s power troopers as young as you are?”

  “You’d be surprised. A lot of us start serving as early as sixteen. We start training even before that. After six years in the service, I’m pretty far up the ranks. Guess they saw how much work and effort I put into training.”

  “And now you’re rewarded by getting to drop into one of the most bizarre battles you could have imagined. Perfect.”

  That gets a smile out of her. “I’m good at it. It’s what I like doing.”

  “I don’t. It just happens that I’m good at it, too.”

  “You’re joking, right? You’re great at it. More than great. We all admire you in the decs.”

  That really gets my full attention, and I turn to look at her dead in the eyes. “Why? I’ve argued with your general plenty of times. I’ve threatened turning on the troops from Fort Silence if they didn’t stop with their random frisks in Central. If push comes to shove, I’m not loyal to Yousef. Why would you look up to me?”

  “I know . . .” She looks like she’s struggling to find her words. “I know it’s easy to think of us like we’re all just the same. We follow orders because it keeps us alive. It keeps our families alive. I mean, Fort Silence . . . My family’s only alive because of them, otherwise they’d still be fighting off raiders in the Deadlands. That doesn’t mean I agree with everything the general does.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” I look away for a second before looking back at her. “What if he ordered you to kill someone you knew was innocent? Would you follow that order?”

  “What?”

  “It’s just a question.”

  “I don’t . . .” Kali looks conflicted, and I can actually see her tossing the question around in her mind. “He wouldn’t give that kind of order.”

  “What if he did?”

  “I . . . No. No, I couldn’t.”

  For a long second, we’re left standing there, staring at each other. “I’ve known a lot of people that were given bad orders. I think that’s why, these days, I don’t tend to trust a lot of leadership. I’m not saying I think that he’ll actually order anything like that, but I wanted to know what you’d say.”

  “I hope you know we’re not all just blind followers. I just don’t want you to hate us just because we were raised at the fort.”

  “Please. I only hate Yousef, and that’s only half the time,” I joke, and I’m happy it gets a laugh out of her. “You’re alright, Kali. Just make sure you keep your moral compass on you at all times, because if I know anything, it’s that you’ll rarely be told the truth about the orders you’re given. Sometimes, you just hope the right people are in power to make the right calls.”

  “I do think that the general tries to make those calls.”

  “Like I said, I only hate him half the time. Guess it’s that half of the time when he’s making bad calls that I wonder if he’s the right guy for the job.” I shake my head and wave my hand in the air. “Not that any of that matters right now. Yousef, Branagh, none of it matters at this point. Once you get away from the politics and out in the field, it’s not about who made the call anymore. It’s about keeping the people around you alive. So, I’m not going to stand here and pretend that I’m all peaches with the general or even most of Fort Silence. But, we’re in this fight together, and I’ll protect as many people as I can as long as I have the strength to do it.”

  “It’s comforting to hear that kind of thing from you. It means a lot to think that someone like you’d be okay with backing us. I know everyone in the DEC would have your back. You’ll be dropping in with me in the second wave, you know, right in the middle of launch. I think the higher ups are trying to make sure nobody spots you while we’re all dropping, so they put you in the middle of our group.”

  “Well, I guess I feel a little bit safer now,” I joke. That’s when I get a message in my ear, and I gesture for Kali to give me a second while I get on my comms. It’s Yousef. “General?” I ask him, referring to him by his title for what must be only the fifth time. “What’s going on?”

  “Dark Angel, the Dynamis is coming under heavy fire up top.”

  “Creepers?” I’ve got two fingers to my ear, like it’ll help me hear him any better, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Kali staring at me. She looks nervous. “How close are we to the DZ?”

  “Estimated time is 15 minutes inbound. You need to get those flyers off the top deck before you’re in clear range of the Panzer. There’s no way our fighters can hold off a full assault from both sides.”

  “On it. I’m on the flight deck right now.”

  “There should be an access hatch along the wall.”

  “Right.” I shoot a look over at my new friend. “Kali.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I need to take care of some things up top. Is there a quick way out of here?”

  “Yeah, sure. There’s a maintenance hatch every other support arch.” She points over to one of the mammoth arches jutting out of the ground and forming a semi-circle above the deck. “Just twist on the handle and
pull up on the hatch. Then you can make your way to the outer hull.”

  “Close it up behind me, will you?”

  “Of course. Is something the matter, sir?”

  I smile. “We always have problems. Got a Creeper problem up there right now, apparently.” The words are barely out of my mouth when the whole ship shakes, and I realize I’m wasting time chatting it up. “Let’s move.” She just nods as she pounds the ground behind us, the two of us getting into position at the hatch. Her giant metal hands lock around the heavy looking handle built into the doorway. From behind me, I can see the deck chief running toward us, but he’s a long way off. “Tell him I went to go take care of our problem.”

  “Good luck out there.”

  “It’s my job to tell you that when I get back,” I tell her with a wink. With that, she turns the handle and lifts up, the sliding metal doorway flinging upward. I give her one last nod as I dip into the small tunnel that leads away from the flight deck and out to the hull. It just takes a few minutes to crawl through the hatchway that cuts through the dense armor of the ship. Ahead of me, I can see the red skies of the city. In the time it takes to get to the hatchway exit, I realize just how thick the walls of the Dynamis are, and it makes me wonder how much ammunition the Panzer’s carrying that even Yousef’s afraid of it. These are all things that run through my head as I reach the end of the tunnel and leap out, the thrusters on my back igniting and sending me skyward. I’m rocketing upward, the city stretching out in front of me in a way I’ve seen dozens of times before. What I’m not prepared for, what I’ve never seen, is what waits for me once I’m above the Dynamis. I rocket onto the top of it and come dropping onto the hull, my metal feet ringing as I come to a stop. Then my eyes go wide.

  “Holy crap.”

  The world feels like it’s slowing down as I see what’s happening. Every gun on the Dynamis is firing, and every part of the sky feels like it’s lighting up, with what has to be . . . hundreds of rounds firing from the sides of the ship every second. There are topside guns toward the forward and rear, and I mean big ones, bigger than any of the other guns on the ship. They’re positioned in rows of quadruple assemblies that are inset into the ship’s armor. Four barrels a piece per battery, and they’re all throwing up so much firepower that I could swear it’s lighting up the ship. What’s scary though, what makes me take a breath is . . . it’s not enough.