Daugher of Ash

by Matthew S. Cox

  She fumbled with the pistol while rolling over. The panic that had given her the strength to keep frenzied claws at bay left her confused at how to hold a firearm. Kate scooted backward until her shoulders hit a wall; she raised the gun in a weaver grip at the same moment the screaming ganger pounced. The woman grabbed both of her wrists, sending her shot high. Kate screamed from the knife still embedded in her bicep as the woman pinned her arms to the wall over her head, keeping the gun out of the fight. She hopped forward and sat in her lap. Kate struggled as the big-eyed off-gridder leaned in to sink her cybernetic fangs into Kate’s cheek. Growls of frustration came from her attacker as Kate fought her to a stalemate. Creepy Girl traded to a one-handed grip on her crossed wrists and punched her in the head.

  Dizziness threatened to pull Kate under, but the pain of the knife wrenching loose from her arm brought her back. The woman held the blade like an icepick, aiming for the thigh. Kate thrust her legs up, twisting her hips and throwing the crazy bitch off her lap to the left. The knife went flying. After leaping to her feet, she aimed the pistol, but her shot went wild as a kick to the ankle swept her legs out from under her.

  The claws sprouted again, and Creepy Girl tackled Kate over backward. One blade-fingered grip pushed Kate’s shoulder into the ground with all of the woman’s weight. Four droplets of blood formed where the tips of her right-hand claws teased the tender front of her neck above the stun ring.

  Green eyes flickered brighter. “Got anything to say before I bleed you out?”

  “Look down.”

  After a seconds-long suspicious squint, the woman risked a quick glance. Kate had the pistol through a hole in the ganger’s shirt, right between the breasts.

  “You think you’re faster?”

  “If you cut my throat, I won’t die right away. I’ll have plenty of time to fire.”

  “If you shoot me, I won’t die right away. I got time to cut you.”

  Kate grunted, trying to stretch her neck away from the four sharp points. “Call it a draw?”

  “You got a gun, bitch. Soon as you’re up, I’m dead.”

  “Touché.” Kate squirmed. “Why are we fighting?”

  “You killed my friends!” hissed the woman, spraying Kate in the face.

  “How did you meet them?” whispered Kate.

  “Just like you.” Lime-eye grinned. “They found me onna street and dragged me in.”

  Kate stared at her. “They forced you to fuck?”

  The woman bit her lip. “Not exactly.”

  “Huh?”

  “They said I could do them or they’d kill me.”

  Kate smirked. “That’s not a choice.”

  “Uhh…” Creepy Girl’s face twisted with confusion, sadness, and anger.

  “Are you on something?”

  “Yeah, I’m high as hell. Took some smileys, a hit of SynSD, and a couple puffs of Basket. Want some?” She spent four seconds giggling, and cried for another two before finally looking serious.

  “No, thanks.” Kate prodded her in the sternum with the pistol. “Look, those weren’t your friends. You were kidnapped.”

  “They weren’t?” She blinked. “But they brought me food and clothes and chems and toys.”

  “You were a pet to them. A warm body to get their rocks off with.”

  The woman blinked. “I never thought of it that way.”

  “There’s no reason we have to kill each other.”

  The woman’s eyes glowed brighter. “‘Cept it would be kinda funny.”

  “No, it wouldn’t.”

  “The face you made when you saw my teeth was funny.” She showed them off again.

  “Killing each other wouldn’t be funny.”

  “Okay, maybe truth. But you’re still gonna shoot me if I get up.”

  I’m going to shoot you if you don’t. “I promise I won’t.”

  “Nobelieve.” The woman retracted the claws digging into Kate’s shoulder, but left the others at her throat. She wound her fingers around the knife handle. “‘Cause, I stabbed you in the arm.”

  Kate clenched her jaw at the sensation of the metal blade sliding out of her. “If you trust me, you might live. If you don’t, you definitely won’t. We’re both victims here. Let’s just walk away.” She made the same face that failed to convince Ramesh not to hit the neurotoxin button.

  “Okay. But if you kill me, I will kill you.”

  “Umm.” Not worth it. Let it go. “Deal.”

  When the claw tips retreated from her throat, she let herself take normal, deep breaths again. The woman sat up, staring at the pistol until Kate lowered it. She backed away from the woman’s offer of assistance standing. That is so creepy. Why would anyone get that done to their eyes?

  “What’s the story with the deck pilot?” Kate waved the gun to the left.

  “He’s always plugged in. They called him Badge ‘cause he wears all his old derms. Some kinda military-grade performance stuff for the net. Cops want him bad, but not bad enough to come in here.” She backed out of sight around a broken wall. “Remember, you promised. No kills.”

  Kate cradled the pistol in her lap, her sigh of relief stalled in her teeth when she noticed the ‘02’ glowing on the side.

  Shit, I thought it was empty.

  he pistol hung heavy on the left side of Kate’s jacket, tapping her side in time with her stumbling walk. Her right shoulder burned from five shallow puncture wounds, her left bicep throbbed where the knife had been. She had not noticed inside; however, the moonlight revealed the odd stickiness in her hand to be a coating of blood. It oozed from the knife wound and dripped off her fingers as she walked.

  Logic said she should find help. Her best chance would be to try to contact Division 0, but at least half the population thought they didn’t exist. Going to the normal police might help, but she feared they would have made a connection between her and Archon by now. Even if they didn’t, her face had been in clear view of the one officer’s helmet camera for quite a while. C-Branch was sure to have their hands armpit deep in the police systems.

  She stopped at an intersection a couple blocks from the punk’s crash pad. For a minute, she stared down at the pat of red spots appearing next to her boot. Kate smiled and wiggled her toes inside the real boot. A sense of calm took over at the thought her first time having sex wouldn’t happen against her will. Elation lasted only seconds before her mind replayed dozens of attacks. Back then, she had been too hot to touch. Regardless, it had taken months for word to spread through the underground society in that sector. At least four times a week, someone tried to assault her.

  Here she stood in the heart of a different black zone.

  New territory, somewhere she had never been in before. It looked worse than the place she called home. This area held char-blackened buildings that resembled the aftermath of serious warfare. A handful of cyborg parts emerged from the shapeless debris, too many to be runaways. This had to be a failed attempt to retake a ‘disavowed sector’ with a military assault. That meant she’d wound up west of old DC. Far out of Wharf Rat range, though the legend of what lived here had reached up north.

  Afraid something would catch sight of her out in the open, she ran to the nearest building with a breach in the wall. Scorched wreckage in the road still exuded the scent of burned plastic as she weaved among the long-dead vehicles. The blast hole looked like it would let her inside, but it contained a cave in of building guts. Grumbling, she followed the wall to the corner, but froze in place at the panorama waiting for her.

  An entire city block had been reduced to a burned field of junk mounds; buildings, cars, and anything else that had been there vaporized by some long-ago event. Rats scurried along old pipes, one rose on its hind legs to sniff the air at her approach. Speechless at the devastation, she skimmed against the wall and climbed past an archway into a large room that had once been a cube farm.

  She collapsed on an old wheeled chair, which tolerated her weight for less than a minute b
efore it collapsed and dumped her to the ground. Kate lay on her side, giving the finger to the broken furniture. With one hand clamped over the knife wound, she forced herself to sit up and leaned on the wall, hissing through her teeth.

  “Althea, if you really are some being from another place… I could really use some help now.”

  A faint breeze carried the scent of burned things off the clearing, mixed with a subtle trace of rat piss. She ignored the wild hair dancing over her face, content to let it flop wherever it wanted. Blood oozed between her fingers as she put pressure on the wound.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna catch something nasty.”

  She debated attempting to cauterize it, but bristled at the weight of the metal around her neck. Once more, she hooked fingers under the collar and pulled, twisted, and tried to crush it. The device ignored her. Shivering from pain, she got her left hand involved as well, though it added little strength. She spun it around her throat, still unable to find any seams or gaps.

  “Fucking thing… Does it have to be so tight? I can’t breathe.” She tugged at it until she ran out of energy and let her arms fall limp in her lap. “I’m a victim waiting to happen…” The urge to cry, to feel sorry for herself grew harder to resist. “So stupid… I should’ve played along with them till they took this piece of shit off me.”

  More futile pulling failed to affect the ring, though it let her entertain the idea that she at least tried to do something other than mope. She didn’t feel confident about her ability to get back to Querq like this. Even Alejandra had recognized the advantage of her power. Kate gathered her jacket tight, adoring the sensation of being dressed. Now normal, able to touch and be touched, she found herself as helpless as anyone else.

  “I got my wish,” she muttered, and let out a halfhearted laugh. “I asked for it.”

  For no reason she could ascribe logic to, she considered the old man who wanted her to kill Althea was responsible for this. He’d probably adore this… He, it, whatever the fuck. Burn out cancer… She turned the stunner in a circle to the right. Maybe he was going to catch me in a weak moment, make me angry enough to… The rising lump in her throat made the collar constrict. No, I can’t go back there. I can’t thank her for wasting her time.

  Guilt brought tears.

  If I didn’t go there, I’d still be cursed. C-Branch wouldn’t want me. She sobbed. They’re going to find me wherever I go. Anywhere I could hide… I’m helpless, just a piece of meat to these savages. Rumors that the gangs out here tended to torture for pleasure and partake of cannibalism more than they caved in to lust made her shiver. With nothing else to imagine, her mind went back to the nibbler camp and that poor man devolved by pain into a primal beast.

  My creators didn’t want me.

  She covered her face with the jacket, sniffling.

  El Tío only wanted a weapon no one would see coming. She frowned at the wall. Giving me an education doesn’t mean he cared. I had to be useful. A primitive naked wild-girl isn’t useful. If he cared, he wouldn’t have asked me to kill.

  Kate tried to summon anger at the way he used her, but wound up feeling like an ungrateful shit.

  The man I thought loved me didn’t want me. She stopped crying at the memory of Esteban.

  Division 0 made an offer, and I was an idiot. A few scenes of her ride east replayed in her mind. She wondered what Officer Ahmed thought of her now, promising to come back and disappearing. Would he blame her for that, or would he suspect something happened. He’s an empath; he had to know how grateful I felt. She spent a few minutes daydreaming about the day he’d spent teaching her how to ride an e-bike, picturing his arms around her from behind.

  I can’t trust Archon. He’s just like El Tío.

  She stared out a once-window, squinting into the wind. From here, she found it easy to imagine the entire city as nothing but a destroyed wasteland full of rats. Can they really protect me from C-Branch? I doubt it… everyone lies.

  She pulled the gun from her jacket, rubbing her thumb over the ammo counter, which still read two shots. Kate tilted it back and forth, letting a glint of waning sunlight play on the grey plastisteel. It was almost silly how something so light could be so deadly. The weapon had the mass of a plastic toy; all the heft had been in the ammo, of which she’d used most.

  For hours, she sat, staring between the pistol and the broken city. Every few minutes, she’d think of how her life had been either killing something or feeling isolated. Scraping got her attention from outside.

  A lone figure rummaged the debris across the square. Metal arms gleamed in the harsh glare of the pre-dusk sky. He grunted and made noises far from anything a human should produce. Still in the relative dark of her shelter over a mile away, Kate remained unseen. Her eyes tracked him as he trailed off to the right until he vanished out of sight past the wall. The sun crawled west, sliding past a notch in the side of a distant century tower, where a long-ago explosion twisted girders into tangled black strands.

  I’m helpless. Her fingertips traced the front of the collar. The next time punks find me will be the last time punks find me. Two bullets won’t be enough.

  All I ever wanted was to belong somewhere, to be able to touch without destroying, to have anyone care about me. She tilted her head forward. One tear spattered on the back of her right hand. Anna was wrong. Althea didn’t change me; she let me out of my cage. I don’t belong to this world. I shouldn’t even exist.

  I wasted her time. Kate took a deep breath and let it out her nose. I’m sorry, kiddo.

  She raised the gun, barrel in front of her right eye. At the far end, the square, blue face of a caseless round peeked back at her.

  Kate closed her eyes. “No one gets to use me again.”

  lease don’t do that,” said a man.

  Kate froze with her thumb by the trigger, whispering, “I’m sorry, Althea.”

  “I’m not Althea,” said the man. “We need to talk.”

  Kate remained still. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  Blurry slits of light expanded into the world as she let her eyes slide open. One man, thirty-something, sand-brown coat, neat hair, sunglasses―C-Branch. He stood a step inside the shattered wall, hands in his pockets.

  “You fuckers are good.”

  “I wanted to apologize for the stunner. Please understand we had no idea what we were dealing with. The brass hates not knowing.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be your assassin any more than I want to kill for the Syndicate.”

  “We can negotiate that, Kate.” He seemed to want to move closer, but didn’t. “Our interest is one of national security. To employ you as a field agent against your will would be idiotic.”

  Kate touched the trigger, not enough pressure to set it off. “One millimeter of travel takes a life.”

  “That’s rather morbid.”

  She couldn’t hold back tears any longer. “Paul used to say that. One of El Tío’s leg breakers.”

  “You’re bleeding all over yourself. Please, put down the weapon and let me get you some help. There are operatives all around us. You are perfectly safe.”

  Bright light swiveled outside, lengthening the skeletons of buildings into apocalyptic shadows. Several hovercars came in to land; Kate shut her eyes again to ward off the glare.

  “You are giving up too fast. You’re young. The whole world is ahead of you.”

  Kate shivered at the sound of a shoe scuffing closer. She couldn’t ping his brain with the damn thing on her neck. If he was a synthetic, he’d be on her before her finger could move a killing distance. Then, she’d be back in the cage.

  “Kate, please,” called out a familiar voice, laced with concern.

  The man whirled. “Who are you?”

  Depression, like a bubble of tar, burst. Suicidal feelings vanished to blah neutrality. Kate felt nothing at all. Cold logic pointed out she had a gun an inch from her eyeball. She
lowered her arm, as it seemed reckless and dangerous to point a weapon at herself. A serenade of crunching footsteps approached outside after several car doors slammed.

  “Officer David Ahmed, Division 0 Tactical.”

  “Back off,” said the C-Branch man. “This is an intelligence operation. Who is your commanding officer?”

  “At the moment, that would be me,” answered an icily calm male voice. “Lieutenant Commander Niles Ashford, Division 0.”

  Kate opened her eyes again, blinking away the blur of tears. The agent had shifted to his right, staring with fear at a stark white man in a black long coat. Who is he that C-Branch is wetting their pants?

  “Operative.” The pale man seemed devoid of emotion as he offered a single, curt nod of greeting. “This individual is an as-yet undetermined type of psionic. I am here on direct order of Director Burckhardt to secure her safety. She is an active-duty member of Division 0. Your agency compatriots have already turned around to go home. I suggest you do the same.”

  “Active duty?” asked the C-Branch man, also without emotion.

  Commander Ashford extended his arm, bearing a datapad. “She has been officially on the roster for eight days. The boots and vehicle your abduction team collected are Division 0 property.”

  The C-Branch man showed a trace of a frown at the datapad. “You’re stretching a technicality.”

  Ashford tucked the datapad in his coat pocket, tapping it down. “Stretching technicalities is half of all government work. You should be quite used to it by now.”

  Officer Ahmed rushed to Kate’s side, taking her attention off the staring contest ten meters away. “Kate…” He put his hand on the gun, pinning it to her lap. “I’m sorry I muted your mood. I had to. I couldn’t bear to watch you take your own life.”

  She withdrew her hand, letting him collect the gun. “I…”

  “It’s okay. A lot of psionics bottom out like that. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.” He slid an arm behind her back.

  “Ow, shit!” she screamed.

  He tugged at her shirt, exposing her clawed-up shoulder. “Looks like you’ve had a bad day.”