by Byrd, Daniel
“Wait!”
It was too late.
***
“Aaron, stay with me.”
Lydia pulled Aaron’s limp body from the overturned car. That wasn't easy to do while kneeling in broken glass and fragments of brick and stone. The front of the small building was a mess where the car had come through, and a lot of the stuff inside was smashed or torn apart by the shock wave. Lydia wondered if it was an antique store judging by some of the pieces now scattered across the floor. She didn't bother to check for anyone else inside. Right now, her priority was ensuring their survival. Then again…she looked down at Aaron's face and realized that he would've helped anyone.
“Asshole.” She dropped him to the ruined carpet. “This is your fault.”
She began to scour the destruction, but after five minutes of sifting through rubble and calling out for any survivors she felt safe in assuming that the place was empty beforehand. Making her way back up front, her feet kept crunching through glass. One audible crack under her right foot caused her to step back and glance down, where a shard of glass lay fractured from her weight. She understood enough German to understand that it was the window pane that displayed the store’s hours. It was closed on Mondays. Figured.
Now she was back to the real question; what the hell happened here? One moment they were discussing their next plan of action regarding the hunt for Lewis, and the next the city was practically uplifted around them in a flash of light, smoke, and dirt. She leaned down and checked on Aaron’s vitals. He was still breathing, still had a heartbeat, and even while out of commission was still pissing her off.
“Wake up, you bastard.”
It took a lot of work with an aching body to drag him outside and into the street. Now that she'd made it out, it was much worse than she thought. She set Aaron down on the cracked and unleveled asphalt and took in the environment. It was as if a fog had rolled through, hiding destructive forces within. She'd never seem anything like it. Careful not to get too far from Aaron, she paced around to try and get a fix on the situation. Then she saw it. A crater.
The buildings across the street weren't hidden by the debris in the air, they were just gone. A crater existed where they had stood, and the remains had fallen into it. Something had exploded, but they didn't hear a plane before all of this happened. Was it dropped from high altitude? The crater wasn’t quite big enough to have left all of this dirt and dust in the wind. There were no answers here. Panic started to settle in her stomach as she ran back into the shop and tried to get the trunk open. Fortunately the engine was weighing the front of the car down, so the trunk had room to open a bit. Enough for her to grab the two duffel bags and sort through them for what she needed. She took the time to get her thigh holster for her Makarov, ensuring that it would be ready at a moment's notice. There was no telling what was out there.
Now came the tough part. Complaints flowing from her mouth, she hoisted Aaron up and tossed an arm over her shoulder. The dead weight was too much, and she collapsed.
“You fucking suck, Aaron!”
Still no response. She crawled over to him and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him slightly.
“Please wake up.” She tried not to cry. “Please?”
It hurt to admit it to herself, but she wasn't prepared for this. Makoto and Alexis were used to combat, and even Aaron was smart enough to figure things out, but her? She hated Aaron so much for his comments on how she was just a renegade wannabe…amateur soldier, but he was right sometimes, and now more than ever. She didn't know what to do alone.
“Please? Aaron you idiot, I need you.”
It took a lot to fight back the tears, but she'd gone it alone before. That was how they first met, in Italy. Back then she was the smart one who had planned in advance, but that was easy compared to this chaos. She couldn't predict an entire city going up in smoke. Her resolve found her, and with a bit more determination than hopelessness she lifted him again. With heavy grunts, she began to drag him down the street as his feet scraped the ground. The view was the same everywhere. Gray suffocated her vision, and at times she could even hear cries in the distance. This entire city was taken by surprise. It wasn't even that hot out and she was sweating from fear and excursion. Night would fall soon enough, and she didn't want to be in the open if this had anything to do with the undead epidemic.
Voices. She could hear voices ahead of her in the gray, but she didn't know if she should approach or not. Aaron was still out on her neck, so it was hard to make a call for both of them. What the hell do I do? I wish the others were here.
The voices evolved into shouting, or at least one of them did. She was close enough that she saw darker silhouettes in the debris. One of them tossed the shorter to the ground with an audible flop, and for a moment there was nothing else. Whoever these people were, they were dangerous. She started to drag Aaron faster, but there wasn't much of a boost to be gained. Then the one still standing looked like it was coming towards her.
“Oh no,” she uttered, stopping and turning her head to Aaron. “Sorry.”
She carelessly dropped him to the ground and went for her Makarov as the figure before her moved his arms in a similar fashion. The figure on the ground shouted.
“Wait!”
Lydia fired a warning shot, elevated above the figure’s head before screeching, “Don't come any closer!”
Then the figure fired back. Lydia felt the pressure change near her ear as the bullet zipped by, but the gunshot itself was hard to hear. Her ear rang for a moment as she ducked and charged off to the right, hoping for cover in the floating dust. She glanced back to see the figure chasing after her.
“Roman, don't go alone!”
Lydia was struggling to breathe with the all of the crud in the air, but she had to find cover and wait for him. Then she could catch him by surprise. Another gunshot hissed behind her, and the bullet missed wider than before. It was still enough to keep her running as fast as she could. Her foot met a piece of a building that had fallen to the ground. A fast reaction would've had her tuck and roll. Instead, she practically ate the sidewalk. Another gunshot sounded off behind her, and she didn't even know how close it came to her. Rolling onto her back and lifting her head up, she decided to throw caution to the wind and fired back three times. The cracking sound carried off into the gray void, and only after waiting five seconds did she get up and move on. Something on her left caught her attention. A car! Half of it was inside of a building, but it was perfect. She mad it around the back and ducked down beside the back door…but something was really off about this vehicle. It was puckered with dents that gave her the impression that it had been shot a lot.
“What the hell?”
“Show yourself!” It was a man. She knew Russian when she heard it. A fellow countryman, but a hostile? Well, he had shot at her. “You think you can shoot at me and hide?!”
Like hell I’m coming out. Lydia readied for the man to appear past the back of the car and focused her attention there. That was why the other voice caught her off guard.
“Roman! What is going on?!”
It came from inside the car. It was very rough sounding; older than the man, but same accent and language.
“Roman?!” the older voice called out again.
“Quiet!” the first shouted back. “There is an enemy in the area!”
“An enemy?! Where?!”
“That remains to be determined! Be quiet and let me search!”
Lydia decided to ditch the plan and crawl away. Carefully, she kept her pistol in one hand as she braced herself with the other and moved along her knees. Slipping away wouldn't be too hard with the state of the area around them. She just had to make it a few more feet and she'd be around the still-standing wall of the building.
“Stop right there.”
Lydia froze in place. She thought about how handy it would be if Aaron showed up and saved her right about now.
“Toss the gun away.”
“I
am not an enemy,” Lydia replied in Russian. “I am lost and confused. Please, listen to me!”
“Drop the weapon,” he said in turn. At least they understood one another. Unfortunately, that didn't guarantee anything good from this.
“I am not going to hurt you!”
“Drop the weapon or I will fire. Your choice.”
The seconds ticked by slowly as she began praying for a miracle. She was still awaiting Aaron to be her hero.
“Stop!” That wasn't the same man. It was English. It was American! It was…young. Lydia finally looked back and got her first view of her pursuer. He was of average height, with a coat that blended in with the background because of the dust that covered it. He appeared to be much older than her; maybe Makoto’s age, but it was hard to tell. Still, he wasn't the source of the voice. Then who was?
“Roman, hold on!”
Another figure came into view, as dirtied by the air as the first, but shorter. The man dropped his guard and turned to yell at the younger one. This was her chance. Kicking off of the ground, she darted around the building as a small piece of the corner she'd just passed was blown into bits of dust.
“Roman!”
Lydia didn't bother looking back as she ran away from the crazy bastard, but then a thought hit her. Aaron was still back there, unconscious, and more vulnerable than a newborn.
“Fuck!”
***
“You are nothing but a nuisance!”
Roman was heated, so Max closed his eyes and tried to think happy thoughts, because he was close to pulling his gun out and shooting Roman in his other leg.
“I would send you to chase her, but you would fail at that as well!”
“Fuck off!” Max yelled. Roman was too busy being livid to care about the rebuttal. As far as he was concerned an enemy had just escaped.
“What about the other one?” Max asked.
“What other one?”
“The one with her? That one was still back there, right?”
Roman had to take back what he'd said about the kid being useless, but not to him directly. “Run ahead of me and check. I will be behind you in case she comes back.”
“Why do I have to go ahead?” Max protested.
“Because you can run. If you would like, I could show you the struggle I am having at the moment?”
Max grumbled as he jogged away. Roman shook his head at his own luck of the draw and followed after him.
“Roman?!” Mikhail shouted from the car.
“Relax, Mikhail, I have this under control!”
“Do not be hasty!”
Mikhail wrote him off and kept his gun ready, head swiveling left and right on his neck for any signs of the woman.
“Roman! I found the person!” Max’s voice shouted from within the area in front of him. Roman swore at the kid’s carelessness and hobbled in that direction. It was harder to find him than it should have been. Then it hit him. Dusk was starting to settle in. They had to get a move on; there was no time to stay around here and play hide-and-seek with the woman.
“Look!” Max exclaimed, pointing to the body in the middle of the street. It was a young man, absolutely covered in the dust still persistently falling down on them all. He looked rather calm, which is what led Roman to assume he was dead.
“Check his pulse, child.”
Max reluctantly crouched down and placed two fingers on the man’s neck. At least he could do that right, Roman thought. After several seconds Max nodded.
“He's got a pulse. It's weak, but there.”
“Good,” Roman replied as he scanned the area around them, “there is no telling what that woman was doing with him.”
“What should we do with him?”
Roman had to think on that one. If he was just a random survivor, then the least they could do was get him off of the street. If he was someone tied to that woman, then they had some leverage.
“Roman?”
A shadow darted past just outside of their vision. Roman took notice and raised his PSS. This was going to be interesting.
“Roman?”
“I suggest you keep close to the body. Lay over it if you must. It might keep you safe.”
Max was utterly confused. “What the hell?”
“Do it, and do not interfere!” Roman ordered as a flash of light preceded a gunshot in the fog of debris. It barely missed. Roman composed himself before firing back, emptying the rest of the magazine. Not his brightest moment. He worked to reload with the one spare magazine he had on him as the figure rushed forward and became visible to them. The gray almost masked the pink in her hair. Her gun was raised, and Roman knew he was in trouble. He hadn’t gotten the gun reloaded yet, and his enemy was here.
“Don't shoot!” Max cried out. Roman watched as the woman hesitated and came to a stop. The stupid kid had given him a chance. His bum leg was a drag, but it didn't stop him from catching her outstretched hand with the gun pointed right at him. She wasn't too smart.
“What the-”
Roman wrenched the gun away and tossed it aside, and the woman surprised him by instinctively taking a fighting stance before swinging a leg. The kick struck his wrist, and with a clatter his gun hit the cracked pavement. Roman didn't give it any attention. This was going to be very interesting. He positioned himself, and the ashes fell across their view as they took a brief second to survey one another for weaknesses. Roman was careful not to reveal that his leg was killing him.
“Stop!”
They ignored Max and rushed one another. The woman’s first throw went over Roman’s shoulder as he ducked down and shoulder-checked her backwards. Knocked off balance, she took a few quick steps to regain control, but Roman used the chance to kick off of his good leg and move in. The strike hit her square in the stomach, and as her hands moved down to grasp her gut another strike knocked her head to the side. Roman stepped back and studied his opponent. She was too sloppy. It would be over soon.
***
Lydia spat blood on the ground as she fought to catch her breath back, her tongue stinging from where she’d bit it with that impact. This guy was too good for her. Most of her practice in hand-to-hand fighting was with Alexis, and as much as she hated to admit it, sometimes men hit harder. Wiping her mouth, her eyes scoped him for a quick opening, but he wasn't giving one. There had to be a way to beat him. She wanted to move for the gun, but there was no telling if the younger guy would allow that. Then again, he didn't seem very keen on fighting…
The man rushed her in the middle of her thoughts, and she wasn't prepared for what he had in store. He faked a punch, and she fell for it as a left swing popped her in the jaw. That was all it took to leave her vulnerable to a flurry of professional hits. One fist caught her ribs, then another struck her left cheek. She started losing control of the situation faster and faster as more blows connected. Then came the leg sweep. On her way down she regained enough of her orientation to notice a grimace on his face. It wasn't there long, but it was there. Something had pained him.
Her back hit the road hard, knocking the wind out of her again as her eyes bulged open. She needed air. She needed to think. Alexis had taught her how to fight, and she was failing miserably at the fundamentals, but she’d also taught her how to learn and improvise as you go. Look for openings, exploit weaknesses, and never let yourself get distracted.
She'd only gotten a bit of oxygen back in before the man’s foot connected with her sides. She cried out as something inside of her cracked.
“Give up,” the man said in Russian. Lydia opened one eye and glared at him. He didn't look the least bit worried about this fight.
“Go to hell!”
“You first!” He raised a foot and started to bring it down with all of his weight. Now or never. Lydia rolled onto her side and swung her leg out as hard as she could. She knew it wasn't much, but it would be something. What she didn't expect was the man to cry out in anguish as he dropped to the ground, his hands clutching his leg below t
he knee. She was almost too surprised to capitalize, but she managed to scurry away on her knees in the direction her gun had flown. Frantically smacking the ground with her hands, they met something metal and she gripped it tight as she stood up and swung it around. The man was struggling to his feet as his gaze met hers. She had to smile.
“Goodbye, comrade.” She squeezed the trigger, and the hammer fell on an empty chamber. It wasn't her gun.
***
The click of the hammer hitting nothing. There was no sweeter sound to Roman as he forced himself through the pain and tackled the woman to the ground. The fear in her eyes was very welcome to him after what she'd done to his leg. For a moment there he was afraid for his life, but this girl had lucked out. He began pummeling her. Her hands tried to block his hammering, but he was in control of the fight. Blood and tears marred her face as he raised both hands. There was no mercy for an enemy. Roman would’ve felt bad if they weren’t trying to kill one another.
Something struck him in the back of the head.
***
Lydia was too many emotions at once. Terrified, hurt, upset, and lastly confused. The man dropped to the road next to her, and above her now was a newcomer. He was tall, with about the same build as the Russian, but his face was friendlier. His eyes weren't full of hatred, and underneath the dirt, he was actually kind of handsome. His gaze was fixated on the downed man as he held a rifle with the butt facing forward. He corrected it, and Lydia began to push herself backwards before he let it drop to the sling.
“Damn that felt good.” He was American, just like the younger one.
“Please don't kill me! I don't know what's going on, I just-”
“Relax,” the man spoke. “I'm not going to hurt you. I think he did enough damage anyway.”
Lydia sat up and got a view of the downed Russian. He was mumbling something into the pavement as he stirred slightly.
The American leaned down and offered a hand. Lydia just stared at it for a moment, but eventually she gave in and took it before the man pulled her to her feet.