Ellen pulled the magazine out, checking the ammo, and put it back in. She started inching toward the front of the house again, back up against the side, listening to the soldiers shout. I tried to grab her but missed. She peered out around the corner again, aiming the small submachine gun, and fired a burst. More shouting, the .50 cals opening up again, Ellen fell back as a hail of bullets shattered the corner of the house, chunks of brick raining down around her. She scrambled backwards in a crab walk.
I leapt to help her up, bullets zipping by my head. I stopped next to Ellen and pointed the M16 at the nearest APC:B-021, firing wildly. Ellen lifted her weapon and joined the volley. My rifle clicked. Out of ammo. I threw it to the ground and pulled out the pistol and continued firing.
To my surprise, Aveena ran to the shredded corner of the house, aimed the sawed off shotgun at the APC:B-021 and fired. One of the vehicles exploded. She screamed, the gun flying out of her hands from the recoil, falling backwards as a burst of .50 cal fire hit the house right where she had been.
Exoskeleton soldiers rushed from the other side of the street. I lowered the pistol, watching in horror for a moment before realizing they were wearing the XDS-032 suits. LoC Security agents. It was them that had blown up the APC:B-021. Ellen and I watched as the security agents quickly overtook the APC:B-021s, the soldiers shouting in protest as they were dragged from the vehicles.
One of the agents trotted up to us, lifting the visor. Major Ross. Ellen stood up and approached him.
“We’re heading east,” he said, “to Durango.”
Ellen nodded. Ross turned and the rest of us followed him over toward the APC:B-021s. There were six prisoners on their knees, hands behind their heads. More cars started gathering around, Cortez citizens getting out and going through the soldier’s weapons and supplies. Amongst them I saw Keme, picking up one of the CSA’s M16s.
“Get as many people into the transports as you can,” Colonel Riviera said.
People began piling into the four remaining vehicles, cramming as many in as possible. Keme went to a truck where I saw Marlina, Zackary, Camille, and Enrique, as well as a few other people squeezed in, all of them harrowed from the attack. The XDS-032 clad agents climbed onto the backs of the APC:B-021s as people took to the .50 cals mounted on top. The six prisoners were hauled into two LoC Security vans before the large caravan took off.
Everything had quieted down, but the XDS-032 agents and people manning the mounted machine guns were still on high alert. We passed by several burning vehicles on the roads, houses with holes from large caliber guns, and occasional dead bodies, but the CSA soldiers seemed to have disappeared.
More and more people joined us, most on foot, having to cram even more into the vehicles. I gave up my own seat in the APC:B-021 for an older woman hugging a double barrel shotgun to her chest. I took one of our submachine guns and found a spot sitting on the slanted back of the APC:B-021 next to Colonel Riviera in her XDS-032 and two other Cortez citizens holding 3D printed AR-15s.
It then occurred to me what was going on.
“Colonel Riviera,” I said.
The helmeted head turned to look at me. “You see something?” her voice projected from the suit.
“The CSA hasn’t backed off,” I said, “they’re waiting until we’re bogged down with too many people. Those we just stopped were coming after certain top priority targets. Me. You. Akira…they must have known she was in town.”
The helmet turned about, scanned across the road as we got further into the densely populated area, more and more people coming out to join us, many of them armed with anything from knives and pistols up to belt fed machine guns and RPG launchers. There were too many to fit into the vehicles now, the caravan reduced to a walking pace. Their expressions ranged from anger to confusion to fear, voices murmuring amongst each other. A small sense of relief came when I spotted a car a ways back that I recognized as Doctor Taylor’s.
I couldn’t see Colonel Riviera’s expression, but I knew she realized I was right. She stood up on the back of the APC:B-021, scanning around the crowd once more before speaking, voice projected by the suit.
“We’re going to need to split up,” she said, “my officers will make four groups of people and we’ll-”
“Who made you boss!” someone shouted, “I’m subscribed to Liberty Protection!”
“Crusaders!” someone else shouted. A few others chipped in by shouting their own allegiances.
“We don’t have time to bicker about gang loyalties,” Colonel Riviera said, “we can sort that all out once we get to-”
“Then why are we splitting up?” someone shouted.
“Yeah!”
“Not going with those spics!”
“Crusaders for life!”
“Get the fuck outta Colorado, asshole!”
More shouting and arguing.
“If you want to stay with each other, you can,” Riviera said, “those who want to split off can-”
An explosion rang out, people screaming in fear as an APC:B-021 cartwheeled off the road in the shockwave. Tires squealed, cars accelerating in panic, people diving out of the way. Colonel Riviera shouted something, but it was in vain. People opened fire, not knowing where to aim. More screams. Someone just behind us toppled over, hit by wild shots. I looked around, seeing nothing. Another blast plumed, bodies being tossed in all directions. People fleeing.
The APC:B-021 swerved, almost throwing me off. More gunfire sounded. The .50 cal behind me opened fire at a house. CSA soldiers in upstairs windows fired into the crowd. I shot at the windows, soldiers ducking down.
And then the humming crescendo of a rail gun vibrated my chest. The screams quieted for a moment before the deafening blast erupted behind us. The last APC:B-021 in the caravan exploded in shrapnel, bodies hurled hundreds of feet, vehicles behind and in front flipping over as a geyser of flame and smoke blossomed into the sky.
I gasped, the air crushed from my lungs by the shockwave, ears popping. Another rail gun charged. Peopled screamed. The ensuing explosion hit an LoC Security van carrying our CSA prisoners. Phobos ruled the streets as panicked citizens scurried for cover, firing blindly, killing more of each other than the CSA military.
The APC:B-021 repeatedly accelerated and stopped as it tried to maneuver through scattering people, forcing me to flip onto my stomach and hold on, gasping for breath. The houses around us began to explode as LoC Security agents fired grenades into them. More screaming. A hand grabbed me, pulling me off the APC:B-021. The vehicle stopped, driver falling as he scrambled out the door.
I turned, finding that Major Riviera had grabbed me. She set me down.
“Get your people out of the city!” her magnified voice shouted.
I rushed to the passenger door of the APC:B-021, pulling it open and helping Akira and Aveena get out, their expressions panicked. I reached back in and grabbed the backpack, slinging it over my shoulders before grabbing Aveena’s arm and leading her down the street.
The frenzied masses had dissipated enough now that dodging rubble was a bigger problem. We were a hundred feet from the APC:B-021 when a rail gun charge surged, followed by its crushing explosion throwing us all forward.
When the ringing in my ears began to clear, I could hear the gasping cries of Yukiko trying to get air back into her lungs. I pulled Aveena and Akira to their feet, all of us limping forward, stepping over a mangled corpse.
Another explosion flared up overhead. I looked up, seeing a burning UAV sailing toward the earth, crashing into a house two hundred yards ahead of us. Glancing back, I could see XDS-032s running to catch up.
More screams as another caravan of six CSA APC:B-021s rounded a corner onto our street. People stopped, turned, and fled back, a few taking aim with their weapons and firing. The vehicle’s .50 cals opened fire. Waves of panicked citizens fell like matchsticks.
Shots rang out behind me. Grenades struck the APC:B-021s, sending up columns of fire and shrapnel. Soldiers ran from bu
rning vehicles, a few emboldened LoC citizens turning and gunning them down.
“Keep going!” Colonel Riviera shouted.
We joined with the other fleeing people, going around the vehicle’s flaming wreckage. Gunfire sounded in the blocks around us. The distant echo of a UAV charging its rail gun grew before its thundering explosion, a flash of light flickering above the trees and houses. Fleeing citizens sobbed and moaned as we hurried past burned and mutilated corpses.
More screams as CSA soldiers marched down the street toward us, the crack of 30 mm fire percussing through the neighborhood. The leg of a man in front of me exploded in blood as he cried out. Chunks of pavement struck my back from bullets hitting the road. The LoC Security agents answered with a volley of grenades and .50 cal fire, buying people time to scurry off the road. The grenades took out three soldiers, but there were too many of them.
The LoC Security agents ran for cover in the driveways. Two of them went down, the XDS-032 armor pierced by the 30 mm depleted uranium artillery.
I leapt onto the front porch of a house, turning to pull Aveena up with me, taking cover behind the concrete wall.
Gunfire clattered. Grenades detonated.
From where I was, I could only see one LoC Security agent hiding on the side of the house – Major Ross – peering around the corner through the porch. I glanced back to the road, seeing at least eight CSA soldiers taking cover behind parked cars. I raised my submachine gun and fired a burst before ducking back down. The entire porch shook, brick column shattering, as a 30 mm bullet slammed into it.
Pinned down. The CSA soldiers continued firing at the houses. Bullets whizzed over me, my back up against concrete. Wood siding splintered off the house. Chunks of wall fell onto the porches roof, sliding off into the front yard. Aveena sat next to me, shaking uncontrollably, the shotgun sitting beside her. Pieces of the ceiling rained down on us, the porch being reduced to rubble.
A blur flew by. Major Ross sprinted out from hiding, letting out what could only be described as a war cry as he fired round after round of grenades from one arm and 30 mm fire from the other. Explosions tore through the night. More magnified voices joined him, the hail of bullets on the porch ceasing.
I grabbed the shotgun from the floor and stood up, firing the submachine gun in one hand the shotgun in the other, the shots spraying wildly from recoil. Aveena shrieked as I got up onto the jagged remnants of the concrete railing and slipped over the edge into the front yard.
The three remaining LoC Security agents were making a last charge, me and a few other armed citizens joining them. Three of the CSA agents went down quick, another fleeing as the car he hid behind detonated.
Major Ross fell to his knees in the middle of the road, getting off one final RPG before a storm of 30 mm fire tore through his XDS-032, his bullet riddled corpse falling limply forward. Another LoC Security agent went down, falling to their back.
I continued firing, my bullets doing little. The submachine gun ran out. I threw it to the ground, grabbing the shotgun with both hands and firing off the last two shells. A third LoC Security agent fell to the ground.
The other unsuited LoC citizens dropped their weapons, falling to their knees, putting hands behind their heads. I continued forward, pulling the pistol out, firing as I advanced, mine the only weapon sound coming from close by as everyone else fell quiet.
The CSA soldiers had a somewhat bemused posture as they watched me. One started coming towards me, the pistol bullets bouncing ineffectively off his dented and sooty EXO:B-039. I fired the last bullet and then threw the pistol at him. I could hear laughing from beneath the helmet.
And then a blast rang out. A gaping hole exploded through the EXO:B-039 chest piece. Shouts of fear from the CSA soldiers. And then another blast. And another, now coming rapid fire.
Behind the CSA soldiers I saw more exoskeletons – at least thirty of them. They were BAX:SAA-037s – Brazilian Army issued exoskeletons. Similar to Benecorp’s EXO:B-039s, but with sharper edges than the smooth suits Benecorp made.
“Is…is it Brazil?” I heard someone say.
“No…” I said.
Sachi’s people. It was easy to tell by the customization that each exo had, Sachi allowing her soldiers to do whatever they wanted to modify their own suits, unlike the Brazilian military.
The CSA soldiers started dispersing. Someone ran by me. I looked the other direction down the street, finding another six of Sachi’s people coming from the other direction, opening fire on the CSA soldiers, cutting their retreat short as they swarmed and gunned them down.
I ran out across the street, going to Colonel Riviera’s body, and kneeling down next to her, fumbling for the two locks on the helmet. I managed to remove it, finding her face bloodied, but still taking in air.
“Rosy,” I said, “can you hear me?”
Her eyes slowly opened. “Did…we win?” she whispered.
I looked back over my shoulder, seeing the citizens climbing out of their hiding places, Sachi’s people helping to gather them up. To my relief, Akira and Aveena were amongst them. A unit of Sachi’s people were down the road at the intersection, firing at someone in the perpendicular street. Ellen was removing the helmet from Major Ross, but I could already see from the bullet holes in his suit that he was dead. I turned back to Colonel Riviera.
“How bad are you injured?” I asked.
She winced, but I could see her legs move. “That’s the suit moving. My leg’s been hit, but I can walk with the suit.”
“Well, the answer is no,” I said, “we didn’t win. This is just starting.”
Chapter 52
Random gunfire continued popping in the distance from different directions. The ground occasionally rumbled from a far-off explosion. Rumor and hearsay circulated in a stew of panic and confusion – Cortez was surrounded; no, Cortez was a fortress that the CSA failed to capture; Durango was safe; no, Durango was overrun; Denver had fallen; no, Denver had repelled attack; actually, a faction of sleeper cells in Denver was behind the whole thing; no wait, Denver was never even attacked, it was purely an attack on Cortez; or no, it was attacked, but it was actually the Brazilians, disguised as the CSA; or maybe this was the fault of insert gang, who nobody ever should have trusted in the first place.
The whispers and finger pointing continued as Sachi’s people lead the survivors north. Near the middle of downtown, near the hospital, we met up with another group, led by Sachi herself, having just finished fending off a unit of CSA soldiers. It was there that a makeshift triage was setup in the street outside the hospital. People from all around Cortez gathered to find out what was going on and to get help.
As time wore on, the entire city fell into an eerie quiet, only murmuring voices penetrating the dark. People in exoskeleton suits milled about – the black and blue XDS-023s and XDS-032s of LoC Security, the brown and grey camouflage LPX-033s of Liberty Security, and the widely varying, personalized BAX:SAA-037s and EXO:E-041s of Sachi’s people. Everyone else I saw seemed to be armed with their own personal weapons of widely varying power.
I walked beside Colonel Riviera. Even with the exoskeleton suit supporting all her weight, she still limped along. When both of us made it to the triage, Rosy sat down, wincing as she started removing the exoskeleton legging.
“Keeping that on might be the only way to save the leg,” Ellen told her.
Riviera shook her head, “there won’t be any savin’ it. Might as well just take it off now and patch it up so it doesn’t slow me down.”
Ellen nodded slowly and helped removed the exo leggings, finding the leg almost completely severed just above the knee. The exoskeleton’s internal tourniquet was tightened around the mid-thigh, stopping blood loss.
Colonel Riviera had Ellen cut the last few tendons holding the leg on, using a combat knife sterilized with a lighter. Rosy grit her teeth, trying not to cry out as Ellen cut through the pulpy flesh as quickly and carefully as possible, blood sizzling on the hot blade. A
fter getting all the way through, Ellen set the leg to the side and used the organic polymer dispenser from her first aid kit to mend up the stump before loosening the tourniquet and fitting her with a replacement legging for the exo suit.
I found Doctor Taylor amongst a few other doctors and nurses tending to the wounded. I only gave her a nod as I went looking for Sachi. I came upon Akira and Aveena, sitting in the road next to the emergency backpack, Akira applying a brace to Yukiko’s broken left arm herself.
“How’s she doing?” I asked.
Akira glanced up to me for a moment before continuing on with the field dressing. “It’s broken all the way through. I patched up the area around as best I could, but it’ll take a while for the bone to heal.” She paused for a moment and then said, “I gave her a small dose of painkiller and it seems to have helped.”
Yukiko had a dreamy expression in her eyes, looking around at the people scurrying about.
I turned to Aveena, “how about you?”
She looked up to me, bottom jaw quivering, eyes staring through me. She spoke slowly, in shock. “Are we safe now?”
I exhaled slowly, “no. Probably not.”
She looked forward again, but said nothing. I turned back to Akira, who shrugged.
“Have you seen Sachi?” I asked Akira.
“No,” she said, “but I saw Savita earlier. She went that way,” she signaled toward the hospital entrance.
“Thanks,” I started walking that way.
“They were after us, weren’t they?” Akira said.
I stopped and looked over my shoulder at her, “I’m almost certain they were.”
I continued on toward the overflowing hospital, seeing the stretch of road lined with injured bodies being tended to by everyone with anything from first aid knowledge up to medical doctors, guarded by a mix of Sachi’s people, LoC Security, Liberty Protection, and the various gangs. A few crates of supplies from the hospital, local stores, LoC Security and Liberty Protection lay amongst them, most containing food and clothing, some containing medicine and weapons. I could already hear voices discussing which gangs had access to what.
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