by Jason Luthor
The sky’s alive with smoke trails and fire, and all I can do is go swinging back to the ground again, this time slamming into a crowd of walkers. My feet come slamming down into the chest of one of them, the giant robotic suit toppling backward before I turn around, my sword spinning a half circle that cuts through several of them at once. I see the blade cutting through the front plates of their armor and I cringe. I’ve spent so much time trying to keep everyone alive, even the people I fight against, but this is a situation when that just won’t be possible. At the last second, as their suits are exploding apart, I do take some comfort from what Yousef told us, that the suits are mostly controlled remotely from the fort.
All that overthinking is why I don’t get away in time to avoid the rockets that slam on the ground beneath me, the shockwave throwing me backward for almost a half block before I roll into another crowd of walkers. I’ve barely twisted onto my feet before the nearest one pumps a few rounds into me from point blank range, the armor plating on my stomach bursting apart as I go tumbling along the ground. As I’m sliding to a stop, I have to wonder if this was the smart thing to do. It’s the sort of questions you ask when you can feel blood pouring out of your guts, with a half dozen rifles turning toward you.
Which is when an explosion erupts ahead of me, almost the entire street blowing apart as this massive group of figures comes charging through the fire. My eyes go wide when I see that death’s head helmet coming through the flames and spot hulking figures behind it, their man sized rifles firing into the streets. When she offers me a hand up, I can only be grateful.
“Calvary’s arrived, sir,” she tells me.
“Kali. I never told you to come.”
“I had a good hunch. Let’s move.”
I don’t anything else as I follow her back onto the street, watching as the armored figures have formed a wall of steel that’s firing both ways into the streets. I can see the sparks flying off of their armor as bullet fire rings off of them, ricocheting in all directions as they just absorb the hits. Above us, as rocket fire is closing in from the skies, I see a few of the troopers returning fire of their own. A few of them have shoulder mounted weapons that are fire clouds of mini-rockets into the air, creating a wave of explosions that clears the skies. Kali thrusts her thumb into the air.
“Can you handle that rocket artillery?”
“I’m on it!” I scream as I launch into the air, noticing the sudden lack of attention to me. In the split second I’m back in the skies, I see where more of the DEC troopers are scattered at different junctures along the street, firing from out of alleys or charging headfirst into crowds of walkers, their bladed gauntlets just ripping apart power armor like it’s nothing. Then in the middle of it, the artillery, their rockets aimed to the skies and getting ready to fire again. I go swooping in, my legs crashing down on the top of one of them before I bury my sword deep in the rocket bed. With one running cut, I slice clean down on it before hop scotching to the next one, my sword cutting through the support arms holding the rocket bed upward. With the arms cut, the bed collapses down onto the truck, sending the rockets firing into the driver’s cabin with an explosion that tosses me, and everyone else nearby, down the street.
For a second, everything’s hazy. All I really know’s what my helmet’s telling me. It’s not enough. Even with Kali’s help, we’re outnumbered six to one. The second my vision’s clear, I go flying at another of the artillery vehicles, my sword again cutting through the rocket bed. Still, the second I’m clear and back with Kali, I can tell things are getting bad. Already, I can see the DEC troopers pulling back into buildings, taking cover from the overwhelming fire and trying to carve out a position they can defend. Tank fire is starting to erupt along the streets, causing parts of the surrounding buildings to come crashing down and sending debris raining down on Kali’s people or exposing their defensive positions.
I’m by Kali’s side in a second, her rifle erupting into the streams of walkers pouring out of streets, tearing into them. Still, everyone she kills is replaced. Meanwhile, as my sword is slicing through power armor, I see some of her troopers dropping to a knee as the armor around their legs is blown off and the metal supports holding their suits up are torn apart. Others of them bring their massive arms across their exposed chests, protecting the pilots inside as their chest plating finally gives way under the never ending assault coming them from every angle.
She must see me looking, because she puts herself between me and an incredible amount of gunfire, the plating on her back soaking up damage as she shields me from the attack. “We know what we came here for, Dark Angel. We’re with you, even if we don’t make it out.”
I take a deep breath as I look at her, our eyes meeting for a second, before we just nod once. Then we look forward together, down the street, which looks absolutely choked with walkers converging on us. The DEC troopers around us all raise their rifles, bracing for one more stand, all of them ready to die if it’s their time. Kali’s ready to die for me if she has to. But I don’t want her to die, not there, and that feeling, that stress . . . I start to feel my blood pumping hard through my veins and my eyes going from one person to another, from the DEC troopers to Yousef’s troopers all charging at us. The last thing I hear is Kali’s voice screaming at a trooper next to us, “Why are we getting so much Pocket Space interference? There’s windows popping everywhere.”
Then I see it all. I see every rocket flying at us in the skies. I see every rifle raising up. And then I blink, and when I do, there’s a wave of explosion erupting down the street. Rockets are exploding in midair and walker suits detonating across the sidewalks. Rocket artillery is exploding into the skies. And then I collapse, screaming as I bring my arms across my body, trying keep myself from splitting apart even as the streets behind me are erupting in one long series of explosions. Kali puts an arm around me, shielding me again as she leans into my ear and says, “Holy hell, what did you just do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“You just took out a full street of Yousef’s troops.” She looks up, motioning to her people, who all raise their rifles and start firing, carving out a little more space for us there on the road. “If you could do that just a couple more times . . .”
“I can’t,” I gasp, almost crying as my muscles feel like they’re ripping apart from each other. “I don’t know how I did it. I feel like . . . I feel like I’m dying. I need a second. Just a second.”
She nods, standing upright and firing to her left and her right, her bladed gauntlet cutting at one of the walkers that closes in on her. Its head explodes at the impact before she turns around, this time grabbing another walker by the arm and flipping it over her shoulder and onto the ground. Her knee drives into its chest, explosive fire bursting around her leg before she raises up and fires another burst into a wave of Yousef’s people. The streets are filling up again on all sides as reinforcements arrive. Even if I managed to buy us some time, I feel like I’m barely able to move. My brain is on fire and body is bursting apart, or at least, that’s what it feels like. When I do manage to look up, the streets are choked again, soldiers swarming at us from all sides. All I can think is that, if I’d just, I don’t know, trained more, maybe I could have done something. Maybe I really could have saved us, even as worn out as I feel at that second. But the streets are clogged with Yousef’s people again, and we’re right back to where we started, facing down a small army that we’re just completely outnumbered by.
To be honest, I don’t really see where he comes from. All I know is, one second, we’re staring at this massive crowd of walkers from Fort Silence, and the next second, an absolutely gigantic suit of power armor comes crashing down into the middle of the crowd. The suit’s at least as big as Kali’s, but even broader, with massive pauldrons covering its shoulders and a glittering, golden bear’s head crest decorating the brown painted steel. An unbelievably large, brown fur cloak hangs from his shoulders, and in his hands is a sword
as big as I am. It’s like a massive wedge of metal that’s been soldered onto a long handle, but I can tell there’s tech inside of it. My helmet’s picking up a thin Pocket Space field on the edges, a lot like my sword and the blades mounted on Kali’s gauntlets. Still, with the reach of that thing, he spins a circle that absolutely destroys every suit of power armor around him, explosions erupting everywhere his blade touches. He forms a black silhouette against the fire as the skies above start to fill up with Suiciders. Beneath their wings, rockets are pouring out, emptying down into the streets and chewing up Yousef’s forces, who’ve all been focused on getting to me and Kali.
Behind him, I can hear fighting breaking out as whatever troops he arrived with start to go toe to toe with Yousef’s men. I can barely process all of it as he walks up to us, his hand going to his helmet and removing it from the suit. Just like with Kali, it’s obvious that he’s piloting completely from the chest cavity of the oversized armor, and his face is ridiculously out of proportion to his body. Still, he’s handsome, with black matted hair plastered against his head and a little stubble growing across his face. His eyes look my way before he takes a knee, our faces meeting at an equal level.
“Dark Angel,” he says with a bow of his head. “My name is Ned Whitney Lancaster. I was sent here by Erin Donoghue to protect the Panzer. I believe that, together, we can do that.”
Personal Recording of Devleena Kumar 09
Standing around the streets, with the battle over, I can’t help but take a breath. For a second, it looked bad. I don’t know that we would have pulled it out without the help we got from Neddy. Even standing there, staring at him from across the street, it’s hard not to be a little impressed. His armor’s even more heavily plated than ours. No wonder they say him and his dad were great fighters. With a suit of power armor like that, it’d be hard to take them down. I don’t want to downplay how good he was in the fight though. The man was tearing through soldiers on all sides.
I’m still admiring the armor when I realize the Angel’s staring at me. My eyes snap to hers, and I stare at her through the lenses of my helmet. “Dark Angel. Sorry, I was just . . .”
“I get it. I thought he was a pretty good fighter, too.”
“Have to respect a man who’s almost as good in a fight as I am.”
She smiles. “Almost, huh?”
“I didn’t have thousands of troops backing me up in the fight. Just my people.”
“I know. You did great. I still don’t know how you were out here at just the right time.”
“We had to pull out of Central. Dravic was shutting down the island, and I figured it was just a matter of time before we wouldn’t be able to leave.”
“Sounds like the perfect reason.”
“Well, we did manage to pull your ass out of the fire.”
That gets another smile out of her. “I’m running on empty right now. No weapons, armor’s beaten to hell. I’m not used to having this much help, but I’ll take it.”
“Feels pretty good not being the only one on the battlefield who can take a shot, right?”
“It is pretty nice. Like I was asking though, you seriously just stumbled into this fight?”
“Kind of hard to believe, right? Me and the team started heading out here the second we got out of Central. While we were on our way, we just happened to find Yousef’s people heading the same direction. I made the call to follow them. Good thing too, because you didn’t look like you were in good shape when we found you.”
“I wasn’t.” She pats me on the arm, and I can’t help but feel my stomach bouncing when she says, “Thank you. You were incredible. I could really use someone like you around more.”
I can barely get any words out, and I just kind of stutter, “Yes . . . yes, sir.”
I don’t have any more time to embarrassed myself as Ned Lancaster starts walking toward us, his massive frame creating a heavy thud on the ground as he carries his sword in one hand and his helmet underneath his other arm. When he reaches us, he looks at me first. “You’re . . . Kali. You’ve wiped out a lot of people I knew out there in the Deadlands.”
“Maybe,” I tell him. “I’m not going to apologize about doing my job.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology. Soldiers follow orders, and your people and mine . . . We haven’t exactly been on the best of terms.”
“You’re right. Thank you though, for helping us.”
He nods. “I decided it was time for me to finally commit my people to the fight.” Neddy looks down at the Angel. “I see my judgement wasn’t in error. Dark Angel. Your president, Gabriel Branagh, sent me a message weeks ago now, implying that Yousef would betray him. It seems he was right. When word spread that the Tank had died, I knew the Panzer could not be allowed to fall into Yousef’s hands. The only question I had was, if you had survived your fight with Ishara, whether you had returned to fight for Yousef or not. I am happy to see you realized what a monster he is.”
The Angel nods, staring up at him as she takes in a deep breath. “She left me her recordings, talking about Yousef, about the Sha’b. You know, she even talked about you. You didn’t want to commit your people to Ishara’s cause, but now you’re in the fight?”
“I didn’t want to commit my people to a sibling rivalry. Ishara had many good qualities, but she was blinded by her anger toward her brother. Perhaps for worse, that is why I did not commit my forces to her, but I also could not stand idly by when her brother was at the door of the world’s greatest weapon. I would also be lying if I said say your president’s letter did not shame me into action. He called upon me to respect my father’s wishes, to create a peace between Central and the people of the Deadlands. With so many of our people recovering after the battle at the Panzer, I would have dishonored my father if I would have held back. When Erin made it clear that the Sha’b were on the verge of destruction if Yousef had his way . . .” He shakes his head. “I don’t regret not helping Ishara. She gambled with people’s lives to set a poorly laid trap. What I regret is not doing something that could have made a difference.”
“That’s funny. I’ve spent the last few weeks feeling like that, thinking that if I’d done something, maybe things would have been different. I lost people . . . No, I lost someone, one of the most important people in my life, because I didn’t do something.” She sighs and looks away for just a second before continuing. “We don’t always make the right choices. What matters is what we do with the time we have.”
“Well said. What will you do now, then?”
“Go to Zone Delaware and talk to Erin. Try to convince him that we need to come together if we’re going to defeat Yousef.”
“That’s a plan I can agree with,” he says with a point of his finger. “I’ll return as well and send word ahead for them to expect you. That will keep them from trying to blow you out of the sky when you get there.”
“I’d appreciate it, but what about your men?”
“They’ll stay here and guard the Panzer.” He looks past her, to me. “Would you help them? I saw you in the fight. You’re as tough as the stories say.”
That gets just a small smile out of me, hidden beneath my helmet. “I’d be happy to.”
“It’s done, then. I’ll speak to my engineers. We’ve got supplies in tow. We can patch up your people, make their armor good as new. Best armor in the world isn’t worth much if you can’t move in it.”
“Got that right.”
He nods. “We’ll speak again.”
After Neddy walks off, I look down at the Angel. “Hey. Just, one last thing. About what happened, right before he got to the fight.”
“About how I destroyed all those troops and vehicles.”
“You were fast. It felt like I blinked and you’d just . . . I don’t know.”
The Angel sighs. “Believe me. If I knew how I did it, I’d let you know.”
Erin’s Recording 03
Sometimes, life takes you for quite the ride. You’re sitt
ing there, thinking all the world’s your oyster. Or, at least, thinking maybe, just for once, it might not be quite shit. That maybe it will cut you a slice of mercy instead of rolling over you like it has such a love of doing.
There are also times when you don’t know what life’s handed you. That’s what I feel, staring at the message from Neddy on my tablet. “Dark Angel’s coming to dinner, is she,” I say with a laugh. “Of all the times.”
I’m staring down on where the wake’s supposed to be held in maybe an hour. Entire band’s been set out, from the fiddle to the piano. The tables are set with glasses, and the shelves are lined with bottles of whiskey. Overhead, the screen’s got images of Tara from all her fights and speeches. It was unfortunate that not many people knew about Ishara. The room itself was supposed to be for the guests of honor, clan leaders from all around Zone Delaware. A citywide holiday was declared for everyone else living in the zone.
Of course Neddy would message me then, of all times, to tell me that I should welcome the Angel. “Life just doesn’t seem to want to give me a moment’s peace,” I mutter, my fingers moving to the bottle of whiskey on a table next to me. “Think we can get through this, old friend? Ned Lancaster finally throws his lot in with the Sha’b, then comes home telling us to think about an alliance with the Angel. A bit ironic, when you think about it.”