Ypsilon didn’t have time to grab onto something and, as they took the turn at speed, she fell into Maza’s lap. He hissed as she pressed against the wound in his stomach.
Arija chambered another round. “We have to do something about this.”
“We’re sitting ducks up here and they’re being slaughtered on the docks down there,” Adal added as she rummaged through the bag of weapons for more ammo.
Ypsilon pushed herself off Maza and reached into her pocket to reload Bangarang.
“What can we do?” Van asked.
Ypsilon looked around the car for an answer, but her head was clouded. She couldn’t think in this tin can. The walls were too confining. The people too close. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
This was why she loved Grinding. Moving constantly from roof to roof and surface to surface. The open air. The rush of wind. Free running was the only way to really live. It also made it a real bitch for your enemy to swat you out of the sky or rip you to pieces. She had to get out of here. “We need to do something about our friends.”
Ypsilon fired several more shots before switching to her new toy, the lever-action rifle she picked up back at the house. It erupted like a cannon with each shot. Smoke and fire billowed from the end of the barrel as she maneuvered the action without pause.
Arija brought her head down to the scope on her rifle and fired another shot. “We also need to help with the riot. We can’t just let them all die. Especially when we have air superiority.”
“Not sure what you guys have in mind, but all I can do is run this thing in circles and send some special love down.” Kip hopped from his seat and ran to one of the bags in the rack. Yanking the top open, he revealed nearly a hundred knockers.
Ypsilon smiled. She could always count on Kip to keep her in full supply of bad decisions. “You guys ready?” When no one answered, she added, “Time to let loose on these asshats. You guys cover the ground. Mama’s got our tail.”
Like floodgates opening, everyone tore off to their own area of the car. Adal fumbled with the straps of an enormous belt-fed machine gun while Arija attached an extended drum to her rifle and removed the scope, replacing it with an old school sight. She slid the bolt a few times, checking for function, then posted up on the opposite side of Adal. Maza grabbed one of Adal’s straps and helped him to steady the weapon.
Kip flipped open a hatch that led to the open air below and pulled his bag over to the hole. “Van, keep her steady. Slow down at the turns or we may go off the rails, but make sure they can’t catch us.” Kip brought his attention back to his bag and then added, “Oh, and let me know when we’re about to pass over anything good.”
Ypsilon scrolled through the songs on her Arm Pilot, searching for the perfect beat to pump her up. Finding what she was looking for, she smiled and pulled the headphones over hear ears. The heavy metal drumbeat pulsed through her body, sending a shiver down her spine.
“What are you thinking?” Arija asked Ypsilon, not pulling her head away from her scope.
Maza pulled out a pistol and slapped in a new magazine “She isn’t.”
Ypsilon let loose a manic laugh. “We’re here for a good time, not a long time. You know that, Maz.”
Adal checked his straps one more time, then kicked the door to the rail car open and leaned out. The speed of the train sent a gust of wind rushing through the car, pushing Ypsilon’s dreads away from her face. She sucked in a deep breath of the cool air, letting it completely fill her lungs.
The car shook as Adal unleashed a firestorm of molten metal, ripping through everything in front of him. A group of passing Geartha spun out of control as his shots tore through them, sending several into the side of the train. Ypsilon gripped the top of the seat as the impact rocked the car.
The smell of gunpowder mixed with the crisp morning air, sending chills down Ypsilon’s spine. Goose bumps erupted across her arms at the intoxicating scent and she paused to enjoy the small moment.
A wide smile formed on Ypsilon’s face. She lived for this. Organized chaos.
She slid past Adal and climbed over the entrance of the car to the roof. As she passed Maza, she gave him a small wink and he blew her a kiss. Her stomach filled with the fluttering sensation of butterflies. Ypsilon prayed that it wouldn’t be the last time she saw him alive. A sour look formed on her face. This emotional shit needed to quit. It cramped her style. She’d never worried about Maza before. He could handle himself. Truth be told, if something happened to Maza, they were all dead.
Ypsilon climbed out the window and pulled herself onto the top of the train car. The air whipped around her. Two large mechanical rails stretched from the top of the train to the top track, keeping the vehicle suspended.
The platform they hovered above looked like a war zone. Hundreds of Geartha swarmed and attacked the Dwellers as they ran, hid and fought for their lives. Screams, gunfire and explosions filled the air, making it impossible for her to think. Good. Thinking slowed her down. Now, she could do what she did best.
The far side of the car was open to the air, divided by infinite beams, wires, pillions, and platforms; things that made her greedy Grinder heart thump. “Mama like…”
Just then, several more Geartha joined the attack. Their bladed arms only just missed Ypsilon as they flew past the rail car. She crouched, expertly spinning around on the balls of her feet and aiming Bangarang at the attackers. She wasn’t really trying to hit them, just piss them off. Ypsilon wanted them to follow her. She had to get them away from the car. When the scare tactic didn’t work, she let one of her rounds clip the leader’s wing. “Come get some!”
The creature she clipped spun around, its beady eyes locking on her. Ypsilon turned, an ear-splitting grin plastered on her face as she shot to the other side of the car.
She didn’t hesitate when she jumped. She knew the mechanics of her kit would prevent her from falling to her death. The air whipped past her, the thrill sending electric pulses across her whole body.
She’d missed this.
Grinding.
It’s what she lived for. Her adrenaline took over, making her hyperaware of everything around her. She reached out. Grabbed a conduction wire that ran alongside the train car. Sparks shot through the air as her metal clad hands slid down the wire, bass thundering in her ears.
Inside the car, her friends were still shooting at anything they could hit from the other side. Ypsilon winked at Maza as she passed the window he and Adal were still hanging out.
A breeze ruffled Ypsilon’s hair as the bladed arm of a Geartha barely missed her face. A single blue and green dreadlock floated from her head, disappearing into the destruction on the platform below. “Mother fucker!”
She slammed her foot into the side of the train and propelled herself into the air. Flipping around, her shoulder collided with the insect’s chest. She wrapped one arm around its neck and used the other to press Bangarang into its lower jaw. “That’s your ass, you filthy piece of shit.”
Two bursts of fire tore through the monster’s head and it fell lifeless, taking Ypsilon down with it.
As she rushed toward the ground on the back of the corpse, she remembered that she came to the World Machine in full kit. She had all sorts of gadgets literally up her sleeve. Normally, Ypsilon didn’t use a full kit, preferring to rely on her own skills. But when she’d left Taraveil in search of answers, she’d decided to fully kit out, just in case. Now she was glad she had.
The deep, grumbly tone of the lead singer slithered into her ears as Ypsilon reached her arm outward and a small hook snagged the conduction wire just as it passed. She struggled to keep her bearings when the wire rounded a turn. Ypsilon drove her boots into the side of the train car and ran along it until she got enough leverage to push. She kicked off the train as she pulled down on the wire, propelling herself into the air. Landing on top of the thick wire, Ypsilon ran along its length.
She stole another glimpse inside the cabin. Maza sat slumped in a chair, out
cold. She waited a second to make sure she could see him breathing. She didn’t know what happened to him but no one else looked worried, so he was probably going to be fine. The blood loss probably got him again.
Rage consumed her. She needed to end this. Ypsilon emptied the spent rounds in the cylinder of her pistol. She’d had enough playing around. Now she was pissed off.
Spinning on the wire, Ypsilon turned, allowing gravity and her expert footing to take her down the cable backwards. Another group of Geartha flew in tight formation, prepping themselves for the attack. Easy targets.
Ypsilon took aim from the hip. She fanned the hammer of her trusty revolver.
Round after round burrowed into the mechanical insects, hitting what she wanted all too easily.
The creatures flailed.
Two of the Geartha collided with each other, exploding on impact. “Ah shit,” Ypsilon cursed, regretting her decision to shoot them down.
She spun around to jump back onto the car. But before she could, one of the dying Geartha collided with the wire.
The explosion severed the cable.
The wire whipped into the air.
Using what leverage she had left, Ypsilon jumped. She landed awkwardly on a falling Geartha’s back. Pushing off from the creature, she leapt towards the roof of the train car.
Another flailing Geartha slammed into her mid-air. Before she knew it, Ypsilon was fifty feet above the car going the wrong way. She had just enough time to roll herself into a ball.
She collided with a small platform and went rolling end over end. The heat from the exploding Geartha washed over her. Hot metal fragments peppered her as she tumbled. When she finally stopped, every muscle in her body stung and she struggled to catch her breath.
As Ypsilon drifted in and out of consciousness, the song she’d chosen on her arm pilot ended, letting the sounds of the fight consume her. She struggled to stay in the battle, trying to force her tired muscles to work when the next song started. The bass rumbled in her chest as the heavy drumbeat filled her ears. “Get off your ass,” she snarled to herself. “You ain’t about to go out like this.”
Coughing, Ypsilon pressed against the cold metal beneath her and pushed herself upright. Everything around her spun. She closed her eyes and shook her head, taking a slow, deep breath. Releasing her body, reality roared back to her.
“Well, that was a quick recovery. I must say I’m impressed,” a cold voice called out.
Battle ready, Ypsilon’s strength returned as adrenalin flooded her system. She scanned the area around her for the origin of the voice, but saw no one with her on the platform. “Oh, the disembodied voice routine. Is this where you tell me I get three wishes? Or are you just going to bore me with some long-ass speech? Tell you what, come on out and we can fast track this to the part where I kill you.”
Granting her request, a slender figure shifted from behind a nearby girder. Pajak walked with a swagger about him that immediately made Ypsilon hate him, and she smiled at the thought of beating that confidence out of him.
“Aren’t you just a sight to watch. I was hoping my little creatures wouldn’t take that fire from you,” Pajak said as he reached out to help Ypsilon up.
She rolled her eyes, ignored his gesture and pushed herself to her feet. “Your little bugs? Nah. I’ve fought tougher colds.”
Pajak’s face scrunched as if he were trying to figure out what she meant. “I sincerely doubt that, my child. Our family has never been one for illness.”
Ypsilon scrutinized the man. He didn’t appear to have any weapons on him but, nonetheless, she could sense the dangerous nature of him. He was a predator circling his prey. Unfortunately for him, she was not prey. “Good for you. Looks like I’ll have to kill you the old-fashioned way then.”
A boost of compressed air fired from her boots and Ypsilon grabbed for Pajak. He moved quicker than she guessed, stepping out of the way of her attack. But Ypsilon was also fast. Faster than any human she’d ever met. It was what gave her the edge on Taraveil and one of the reasons why the other gang chiefs didn’t mess with her. She spun her rear foot around and swept Pajak’s legs out from under him.
Pajak crumpled to the ground. But he recovered effortlessly.
Ypsilon steadied herself, a migraine forming behind her eye from the fall she’d taken. She let the voice of the singer soothe her for a moment before running back in. She thrust her boot at the man’s chest. He blocked this attack as well, but she had a spinning roundhouse on its way. The heel of her boot connected with Pajak’s chin.
The metal man spun in the air and went sprawling to the floor. Ypsilon followed through with an axe-kick, throwing her heel once more into his chest.
Pajak rolled.
He whipped his leg around, taking Ypsilon to the metal ground next to him. “Fast, too,” Pajak grunted as he pulled himself up. “Wonderful. My child, you are not disappointing.”
Ypsilon rolled to her side and pushed herself to her feet. This guy was good. She popped her jaw as she stood, rolling her head from side to side. “I aim to please.” Ypsilon spat a blood-laced wad on the ground. Her side burned and she was pretty sure she’d broken a rib. “You, on the other hand, need a little work. But that’s fine. I’d be happy to teach you a thing or two.”
She charged.
He was fast, but she was faster.
She faked a kick, then unleashed a flurry of jabs. Ducked. Weaved. Ducked again. Ypsilon drove her fists into Pajak’s metal torso. Each powerful jab knocked him back a step.
The Grinder chief spun, trying for a kick, but Pajak blocked it, thrusting his fist into her chest. Her breath was forced from her lungs, ribs cracking with the force of the hit, like a truck. Yep, she’d definitely broken something.
“Not too bad,” Pajak sneered. He kicked Ypsilon in the chest.
She landed on her back, her chest and lungs burning as she slid into a girder. Blinking, she swore she saw another set of arms disappear behind Pajak’s back.
“You really do make me happy.” Pajak laughed. “Your father would have been so proud if he knew he created something so powerful”
Ypsilon pushed herself to her feet as a wicked guitar solo erupted in her ears. “Yeah? Well too bad you aren’t my father.”
“I guess I’ll just have to settle for being your uncle.”
Ypsilon stopped mere feet from Pajak, her hand still poised and ready to punch. Her head reeled. There’s no way she heard him right. She tilted her head and examined the tin man, looking for the lie.
“What?” Pajak grinned, a knowing, annoying sort of smile. “Don’t believe me? Child, I could smell him on you when you came to the aid of the Topsiders.”
“Fine. I’ll bite. What the hell are you talking about?”
Pajak laughed and slowly moved to the side. Ypsilon watched every moving part of him. This whole ‘Luke, I am your uncle’ bit could very-damn well be a trap.
“I’ll answer that by asking you something.” Pajak paused before adding, “what are you?”
Ypsilon had always had some cocky, smart-ass quip for just about everything. She’d made people cry, hurt, bleed. But for this one question - this guy - she struggled to come up with an answer, wracking her brain for the perfect comeback. Instead, she just looked on in silence like a gigantic moron.
“Thought so.” Pajak crossed his arms over his chest. “You must’ve been hidden very well. I’d never heard of you. But the second I saw you… Granted, I knew my younger brother had gotten himself into some trouble, but never anything like this.”
“What the hell are you talking about? This whole stalling thing isn’t going to work. Get to the point or get to the fighting. I can make that call for you if you need,” Ypsilon interrupted.
“See. This is exactly my point,” Pajak replied. “You’re strong, destructive, intelligent. You do what needs to be done, even when it’s not pretty. And I know you enjoy the kill. The adrenaline. The smell of sweat and blood. You’re exactly what a ruler shou
ld be.”
“You’re grandstanding, old man,” Ypsilon growled. “Get to the point.”
“My point is, you’re special. There’s not a single creation like you, Ypsilon, and your abilities are being wasted.” Pajak took a step towards her. “Dearest, you’re a lost child, but I can help you. I can help you find your true purpose.”
Ypsilon wracked her brain, trying to figure out what he was talking about, but nothing made sense. She eyed him, her muscles taut, as if waiting for the go ahead. “Bullshit. You’re talking out of both sides of your mouth. Testing the water and trying to confuse me so I let my guard down. Well, I’m not in for this mental screw.”
“You have the mark, don’t you? You’re a product of my brother… A product of me. You are destined for so much more, child.” Pajak reached a hand toward Ypsilon. “Come with me and we can rule together.”
Ypsilon glanced at her stomach, at the shirt that covered her tattoo, but she didn’t answer. All her life, she’d felt like she didn’t belong in the world. The only person she’d ever let get close to her was Maza, and even he felt like a completely different species. No one quite understood her strength, her speed, the pounding of her heartbeat when she took control of a situation.
A glint of metal caught her eye. Bangarang lay next to her, as if summoned. As if reminding her who she was.
“Don’t you want that power? To rule? Learn who and what you really are? I can give you that. Just come with me.”
Ypsilon finally met Pajak’s eyes. Something inside her pulled her towards him. She needed to find out who she really was. She wasn’t cut out for this righteous, good-girl bullshit. That was Adal and Arija’s gig. She could feel it inside her.
The stirring.
She was meant for more.
“I’m listening.” The words felt like a betrayal.
“Very well.” Pajak smiled. “All I need of you are two things. The first is to swear your devotion to me and our cause.”
Ypsilon raised one eyebrow. “And the second?”
“Kill the Topsiders.”
Ypsilon sucked in a frustrated breath. On the one hand, Adal and Arija could be annoying and she’d always felt like they thought they were better than her. But on the other hand, they’d always had her back.
Ypsilon and the Plague Doctor Page 7
