by R S Penney
Heavy metal footsteps thumped on the floor. He took a quick peek and found that the drone had already passed him. It stood with its back turned, raising its arm to fire a tempest of bullets at one of the pillars near the back wall.
Chunks of concrete went flying, dropping to the floor. No doubt Anna was behind that pillar. He had to do something, but what? The only thing he had was a crappy nine-millimetre pistol and no fancy ammo.
Pressing his lips together, Jack closed his eyes. He forced out a sigh. “Think, Hunter,” he scolded. “Your greatest weapon has always been your brain. Start using it.”
He moved carefully to the other side of the van, then, with a lot of courage, took a peek around the corner. The second battle drone had moved off toward the garage's front entrance and now stood with its back to him, firing at the wall.
There were several cars parked along that wall, and from the way the battle drone shredded their windshields, it was a good bet that several of Patel's men had taken cover behind them. Think! Think! Think!
About ten paces away, the man called Vincent stood with arms folded, observing the mayhem with casual confidence. The drones weren't targeting him, even though his attire was almost identical to that of everyone else in the room. That meant he likely had some device that flagged him as a friendly.
If Jack could steal it…
Vincent had taken position near a door in the wall that led to another lot identical to this one. No doubt the man planned to make a timely escape if events should fail to go in his favour.
Only one thing to do. Jack drew the pistol from the holster on his belt, released the safety and stepped out of cover. With the aid of his Nassai, he watched the battle drone while keeping his eyes on Vincent. For the moment, it seemed to be ignoring him.
Jack lifted the pistol.
Without warning, the other man's head whipped around, and he studied Jack through the holes in his ski mask. Anna had said that the man possessed a symbiont. Not a Nassai but something else.
“Call off your drones,” Jack ordered.
“You must be joking.”
Jack frowned at the man, shaking his head. He felt sweat rush over his face in thick waves. “I don't want to pull this trigger,” he said, “But either you put a stop to this, or we find out if you're really as good as a Keeper.”
Vincent looked down at the floor, no doubt frowning behind the ski mask. “You do have guts, boy,” he muttered. “I'll give you that much. You don't have to die with Lenai. Join me.”
“Like hell.”
Crossing his arms, Vincent shook his head and chuckled. He seemed to view the whole thing as a joke. “It won't work, boy,” he mocked. “You can't intimidate me. We both know you don't have it in you to pull that-”
CRACK!
The air in front of Vincent shimmered, transforming him into the rippling image of a black shadow. A bullet struck the pulsating curtain, turned lazily in a wide arc and flew off to the left.
The blurry Vincent backed away, grabbing the door handle in one hand. He pushed it open and stepped through just before the Bending vanished. As the door swung shut, he disappeared out of sight.
Pink-cheeked, face slick, Jack lowered his eyes to the floor. “Just let him keep you talking,” he said, approaching the wall. “I mean, it's not like that's the oldest trick in the book or anything.”
Pushing the door open, he found himself staring at yet another empty parking lot, this one blessedly devoid of gunfire. He saw no sign of Vincent, but the guy could not have gotten very far.
Jack stepped through.
A boot kicked the pistol out of his hand. Only then did he realize that Vincent had been standing next to the door. A hand seized the back of Jack's shirt and flung him hard onto the concrete floor.
He landed on all fours, bracing himself against the impact. With blessings offered by his Nassai, he perceived Vincent standing behind him with arms crossed, shaking his head in disgust.
Jack turned his head, shutting his eyes tight. He felt a single tear slide down his cheek. “Of course, it could be worse,” he muttered. “You could fall for the second oldest trick in the book.”
The onslaught of gunfire continued, sending tiny vibrations through concrete that shielded Anna from a storm of bullets. Battle drones carried half a dozen magazines of nearly a hundred bullets.
The pain in her skin had faded to a dull tingle – a sign that her Nassai was starting to recover – but if she used her talent again, it would return. Still, she couldn't stay here. Something had to be done.
Anna shut her eyes, leaning her head against the concrete. She drew in a shuddering breath. “I may need your help again,” she told the symbiont. “A few good shots and we'll destroy that thing.”
She felt encouragement.
“Alright, then.”
She drew the gun from her belt, releasing the safety. “EMP!” she growled, watching the LEDS turn white. If she could inflict enough damage to the drone's circuitry, she just might be able to destroy the thing.
With a thought, she warped space-time and erected a bubble that was large enough for her to move around the pillar. The inside of its spherical surface became a shimmering curtain that made the walls and floor look as though they were under water.
She stepped around the pillar.
The tingling became a stabbing pain, but she saw the drone as a blurry figure with its arm thrust out, firing a line of bullets at the pillar. With any luck, that Bleakness-taken monstrosity hadn't seen her.
Raising her gun in both hands, Anna squinted. She fired and watched blue tracers appear beyond the bubble's surface, electrically charged bullets slowly spiralling toward their target.
The bubble popped.
Charged bullets punched through the drone's exoskeleton, blue sparks flashing over its metallic body. It stumbled backwards, unable to maintain its balance. Anna fired again and again.
More bullets pounded the robot, causing it to dance about. She saw a tiny flash of sparks from the force-field emitter on its chest. So that had been shorted out. Good. Now all she had to do was-
Something emerged from the robot's hip, a tiny cannon about the size of her closed fist, pointed right at her. Anna reacted without thinking. She ducked behind the pillar and waited for the blast.
With a loud POP, the cannon tossed a grenade that landed on the floor and skittered to a stop right next to her. Panic welled up within her, nearly overwhelming her ability to think straight.
Anna threw herself sideways.
She flew as straight as an arrow with her arms outstretched, then landed on the floor and somersaulted over the concrete. In the blink of an eye, she was crouching behind the other pillar.
She glanced over her shoulder.
The grenade exploded with a thunderous growl, shattering the damaged pillar into a hundred shards that flew off in all directions. Anna threw up a Bending, the air behind her rippling just in time to deflect several large pieces of shrapnel.
She slumped against the pillar, vision fading.
Closing her eyes, Anna let her head droop. She felt sweat mat drenched hair to her forehead. “Have to hold on,” she groaned. “Come on, symbiont, you're up for some more adventure, aren't you?”
Bullets whizzed past the pillar, striking the back wall of the garage and pounding holes in the concrete. The pattern they made looked like a child's scribble, back and forth and up and down. Was the drone just waving its arm about drunkenly? Had she damaged its targeting circuits? That would explain why it hadn't gunned her down when she moved from one pillar to the other.
Her body felt as though it had been pummelled by a herd of stampeding rhinos, but if the drone was damaged, she might have a chance. The LEDs on her pistol were still glowing white.
Anna aimed around the pillar.
The drone stumbled backward through the roadway between parked cars, one arm upraised to fire bullets at the ceiling. Chunks of concrete rained down upon the floor, and light bulbs shattered.
“High impact!” Anna bellowed. The LEDs on her gun changed from white to red, indicating that each round would be launched at twice the normal speed. She'd be unable to use full-automatic fire with this setting.
Anna squeezed the trigger.
A bullet crashed into the robot's chest with enough force to put a deep crater in the metal. Several more ripped holes in the drone's body, leaving its innards exposed to the open air.
The drone dropped to all fours, landing in a pose that reminded her of a cowering man begging for his life. It was over at long last. With muscles that felt like wet noodles, Anna heaved out a sigh of relief. Thank the Comp-
The drone prostrated itself, and she noticed the small bulbous protrusion where its spine should have been. Like the top of a dome, or half of a perfect white sphere. She had a sudden sinking feeling in her belly. It can't be…
The sphere emerged from the socket in its master's back, floating upward and then reorienting itself to point a lens at her. Seconds later, that lens began to glow with fierce orange light.
Anna ducked behind the pillar, crouching down.
No! No! No! she screamed inside her own head. Not another Death Sphere! The universe can't be that cruel!
She watched an orange particle beam slice horizontally through the pillar, leaving red-hot concrete in its wake. Had she been standing, that beam would have lopped her head off at the shoulders.
The air sizzled, painfully hot.
She had to move before the sphere recharged its emitters, but the moment that she emerged from cover, it would gun her down. Death Spheres were programmed to react to motion, and-
Of course!
Anna twisted around, raising her gun in both hands. She took aim at the other pillar and fired. High-impact bullets ripped chunks of concrete out of what had already been a ruined mass of jagged stone.
They fell to the floor.
Before she could so much as blink, an orange particle beam hit the other pillar and sliced right through it, heating the concrete until it glowed with crimson light. The sphere reacted just as she'd hoped it would, assuming the falling rocks indicated the presence of a target. Those things weren't nearly as sophisticated as true battle drones. They fired on anything that moved. Period. Now she had a few moments before it recharged.
Anna got up.
She turned and ran for the stairwell door, sweat coating her face in thick waves. She didn't even bother shooting at the sphere; those things could bob and weave until you had emptied your entire clip. She had to lure it into a trap.
Pushing the door open, she found a set of steps that led up to a landing with lights on the concrete walls. Another set led down to the basement, but instinct told her the high ground would serve her better.
She started up the stairs.
Clenching her teeth, Anna squeezed her eyes shut. She became aware of the furious heat in her face. “Just a little bit longer,” she told herself. “After killing a drone, this thing will go down easy.”
She rounded the landing, then started up another flight of steps toward the second floor. The parking garage was only two stories high. From the railing that overlooked the stairs below, she could watch the sphere as it came up in search of her.
“You can do it,” Anna told herself. Those words sounded hollow but she repeated them several times. One way or another, this was going to be over soon; she just hoped it wouldn't end with her body reduced to a pile of ash. “EMP!” she ordered. The gun made a soft beeping noise as it changed settings.
Strangely, she found that the anxiety that twisted her stomach in knots had nothing to do with fear for her own life. Now that she had a moment to breathe, she realized that she was very worried about Jack.
There was a crackling squeal that could only be the sound of the sphere burning through the door below with its particle beam. The wretched stench of scorched plastic confirmed her suspicions.
Moments later, the sphere came floating over the stairs below, pivoting from side to side as it searched for her with its lens. Now. Before it sees you!
Anna leaped.
She flipped over the railing, turning upside-down in mid-air. Thrusting her arm out, she fired several blue tracers right through the sphere's polished surface. Sparks flickered as the thing fell to the stairs and rolled down to the first floor.
Anna landed crouched on the top step.
She threw herself sideways, sprawled out upon the landing as the sphere exploded with a violent cacophony. Shards of metal flew up from below, most bouncing harmlessly off the stairwell walls.
One left a rather nasty gash across her calf, tearing through the fabric of her pants. The stinging pain that followed rivalled that of overtaxing her symbiont.
Anna bared her teeth, wincing so hard she thought she'd burst a blood vessel. “Bleakness take you, Pennfield!” she said. “Who gives you these damn weapons?”
So far, Jack's plan to attack Vincent had not gone well. The other man stood with his back to the door, arms folded as he stared down at Jack. “What a pitiful little thing you are,” he said. “Who would make you a Keeper?”
Baring his teeth, Jack snarled at the man. He felt sweat roll over his face. “A very kind symbiont,” he whispered. “One with a lot more integrity than you could ever hope for.”
He stood.
The sounds of gunfire in the other room sent shivers down his spine. He had to end this soon if he wanted to save his team. Fear seized his heart in an iron grip at the thought of something happening to Anna.
Vincent looked him up and down, squinting through the holes of his ski mask. “Ah. Is that fear I see?” he asked, coming forward. “Well, boy, at least you demonstrate some small amount of wisdom.”
Something about the way he speaks…
Jack veered off to his left, moving deeper into the lot. The last thing he needed was a stray bullet to the head while he was trying to survive a fistfight. His symbiont told him there were several cars behind him.
“I'll make the offer one more time,” Vincent said, rounding on him. The man now stood with his back to the garage's open front entrance. In the distance, Jack saw the pine trees that lined the fence he had jumped. “Work with me. Use your talents for the benefit of humankind.”
Frowning to himself, Jack looked up to fix his gaze on the other man. He narrowed his eyes. “Does that line actually work?” he inquired. “ 'Cause I'm pretty sure you'd have better luck with 'Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?' ”
“Hide behind your japes, boy,” Vincent said, coming forward. He moved with a kind of predatory grace, like a wolf about to run down a squirrel, stopping right in front of Jack. “If you wish to die, it can be arranged.”
“Did you just say 'jape?' ”
Vincent threw a punch.
Jack's hand came up, striking the man's wrist and knocking the blow aside. With his free hand, he drove fingertips into Vincent's throat. The man gurgled, eyes flaring behind the holes of his mask.
Jack snap-kicked.
Vincent caught his ankle, holding it pinned against his stomach. He gave a tug, and the next thing Jack knew, he was falling over backwards. Spatial awareness kicked in and gave him a chance to react.
Slapping hands down on the concrete, Jack thrust his feet into the air and rose into a handstand. He flipped upright just in time to see the other man coming forward with fists upraised.
Vincent slammed a palm into his chest.
Bent gravity sent Jack flying backward over the empty parking space. He landed hard on his ass, skin torn from the friction. Damn it, this guy was good. Anna had said so, but until now, he hadn't understood the extent of the danger.
The other man came striding toward him. He lifted his chin to stare down his nose at Jack. “Is that the best you can do?” he asked. “The power of a s
ymbiont, and all you can manage is some pitiful flailing about?”
Curling his legs against his chest, Jack sprang off the ground. He landed on his feet, bringing fists up in a boxer's stance. “Hardly,” he replied, drawing upon every last scrap of martial arts training he had ever had. His opponent drew near, and Jack squelched the sudden burst of terror.
Vincent kicked high.
Jack ducked and felt the man's foot pass over his head. He watched Vincent's leg come down, watched the other man begin a spinning back-kick. Pure instinct took over before he could think.
Dropping to his knees, Jack seized the man's ankle just before a rubber sole made contact with his nose. Now, before he recovers! He flung Vincent's leg aside, forcing him to turn around.
Quick as a blink, Jack stood.
He punched Vincent's chest with one fist, then the other. He drew back his arm and slammed his open palm into the other man's nose. Blood soaked through the fabric of that black ski mask.
Jack threw another punch.
Vincent caught his wrist, twisting in a way that forced him to stand with his side exposed. The other man kicked him hard in the belly. Jack was made to double over as he tried to catch his breath.
A blow to his head fuzzed his vision. Before he even realized what was happening, he was down on all fours, trying desperately not to empty his stomach. The world spun in circles. “Come on, Hunter…”
No matter how badly his body hurt, his sense of spatial awareness remained as clear as the noonday sun. The silhouette of Vincent drew a pistol from the holster on his belt. He released the safety.
Calling on his Nassai, Jack pushed himself off the floor. He used bent gravity to fling himself sideways, colliding with Vincent and knocking the other man off his feet. They both fell to the floor.
Jack rolled away.
When his vision cleared, he saw a gray sedan parked with its nose to the concrete wall, blocking his view of the door he had come through. If he could get there before the other man got his bearings…
Jack stood up and ran.
Clenching his teeth, he winced and felt spittle fly from his open mouth. “Come on, Hunter!” he rasped. “You can do this!”
