by Cole Anders
“This looks like the best vantage point, I can easily see the front and side entrances from here. Here's your coffee.” Said Luke, unloading his arms onto the table.
“That girl would've given me diabetes if I'd stayed up there much longer. Gotta play nice with the natives I guess.” Smirked Simon.
“That over sweet demeanor normally works on guys like us I bet, tips are always greener in the sun.” Luke said turning on his own machine.
“Did you just casually invent that saying of the top over your head?” Asked Simon, eyebrows raised.
“I did, ha, it happens more often than you'd think. I hate sayings personally. I think condensing wisdom down into sound bites wrings out all the value.” Said Luke.
“Ya I suppose, stuff like, a rolling stone gathers no moss is meaningless. But what about stronger axioms like, Knowledge is power, isn't that one on Firewalls seal?” Inquired Simon.
“It is, and it's not a totally meaningless saying. Sometimes you need to condense a complex idea so it'll fit onto a t-shirt, but it's stupid to try and build a personal philosophy off of a simple saying. What are you looking at over there?” Asked Luke, gesturing to Simon’s computer.
“Roads in the surrounding area, even a vague awareness of where all these streets lead is better than nothing.” Explained Simon.
“Good idea, I don't really know this area well either, I've deduced we're in Dallas somewhere, but I can't tell exactly where.” Said Luke.
“Looks like Plano, which is a suburb about 30 minutes North of Dallas. We can hook up to several major highways quickly from here. It's a 30-hour drive back to Oregon though...” Said Simon.
“We'll likely fly back once we've done everything we can here, no point driving unless we happen to chase them north. I'm going to walk over to the bank and open a checking account so that I can plant a couple listening devices for Nerva, when I get back I've got something important to tell you about Nerva.” Luke said standing up.
“OK, I'll be here.” Said Simon, not looking up from the map on his screen.
Luke headed back out the door, but not before having to explain to the sunbeam behind the counter that he'd be right back. He'd never have another chance to speak to her again and would later feel good that he'd made her last conversation with another person a courteous one.
After a few minutes of study, Simon started doing blind quizzes on himself with area road names. He also experimented with memorizing turn counts that would lead him to the nearest highways. After some time, the turn counting seemed like a better use of time since he might not be able to see street names if they went flying down some random direction in a chase.
“Left, straight, left, highway. Got it. Ok, Left, right, straight, straight...no that's a shopping center, Left, highway. Got that one.” Simon mouthed to himself ten possible routes one after another until he could do them all without checking. Then he did it backwards. He'd never known himself to be especially good at memorization, but now it felt like his mind was taking pictures of everything he focused on. Simon thought that maybe it was the supplement cocktail he'd taken that morning that was doing it, he did feel at once more relaxed and more alert than he could ever remember feeling before. Which was strange considering what he was doing. He glanced up to see if he could see Luke walking back yet but instead looked up just in time to see two men wearing ski masks and holding assault rifles burst out of the bank.
An instant later, bullets began slicing through the large plate window Simon had been sitting beside. The entire panel turned nearly opaque with fracture lines, immediately cutting off his line of sight and his ability to return fire. But as if it was second nature, Simon found himself shuffling across the floor for the front door so that he could get engaged with the gunmen effectively. Vaguely, almost like a siren from across a lake Simon could hear screaming, one of them sounded a lot like Ms. Sunbeam, but he couldn't be sure. He was glad he heard it though, if you can scream then you aren't dead yet.
“Just keep down and don’t come up for anything!” Simon yelled, not sure who around him would even be listening.
There had been a few other people inside the coffee shop, but Simon had been sitting with his back to them so he didn't know what possible actions they'd taken when the shooting had started. Simon reached to door and laid out prone, barely peeking out the bottom corner of the door glass. Three men with stockings pulled over their heads were propped against a van parked in front of the bank’s side entrance. They'd set themselves to so that the van was in between them and the interior of the bank, Simon could hear more shooting and could see some of the banks windows blowing out, muffled by the fact that shooting was coming from inside the bank itself. The rules of this engagement were crystal clear in Simon’s mind, but the speed of the masked men was surprising. Simon only managed to get to his feet and fling the door open before his movement caught the eye of one of the operatives, who immediately began to spin around and level his machine gun on Simon. This was not what Simon expected at all. Even though He felt like time was slowed to a crawl, and he was opening the door, standing up, and drawing his pistol all at once and the guy who noticed him was still reacting faster than he was. But quick reaction or not, Simon was already in motion first, and was fast enough to squeeze out two bullets before the masked man who was wheeling around toward him could completely bring level his rifle at the coffee shop door. One of Simon's bullets caught the guy in the neck, while the other went into the back of the van they were ducked behind. The masked man, despite being stone dead by the time he hit the ground still managed to hold the trigger of his rifle all the way down. High powered rounds hissed and pinged all around Simon as he ran the few feet outside along the front of the coffee shop so he could take cover against the far edge of the building. Simon dropped down around the brick corner just as a few round of fire came in, likely from the other two guys who'd been behind the car. Instantly, Simon leaped back to his feet and began sprinting around the other side of the building. It was a rather small store, positioned right in the middle of the parking lot so getting around it wouldn’t take more than 5-6 seconds at a sprint. While on the back side of the building Simon heard more shots ring out. As he whipped around the opposite corner, he found himself staring both masked men right in the face no more than fifty meters away, their rifles already swinging into position. They had been ducking down from fire coming out of the bank and were just finishing snapping fresh clips into their own weapons. Simon, started to crouch down and raise up his pistol. His thought was to reduce his target profile, but at this range that wouldn't have mattered, but it was better than standing out around the corner completely exposed, and dropping into a crouch was a fluid motion because he was still being pushed by the inertia of running around the corner. Crouching down was his best move, and would have been enough if there'd only been one guy sitting there or if they'd been facing away from him. Simon fired once, plugging the one on the left right in the center of his chest. His hands flew up in an almost cartoonish fashion as if he was asking what that was for. The other raised up slightly into a hunching position, squaring his rifle at Simon. This was his critical error, and what saved Simon's life, because just as he lifted himself up high enough for the top of his head to come above the bottom of the van window. Instead of killing Simon, he pumped half of his rifle’s clip into the pavement right in front of Simon before his hands realized the top of his head had just been blown off. The operative had been shot in the back of the head twice by Luke who still inside the bank.
Simon's' inertia had actually toppled him over into a roll instead of letting him stay on one knee like he had intended, so that by the time he was getting back up again Luke was running out the side entrance toward to staged Escape. Simon made momentary eye contact with him and knew he'd be needing to join him a fast as possible. Running past the front side windows of the coffee shop, Simon glanced in and then wished he hadn't. Slumped over the front counter surrounded by a growing pool of blood was sunb
eam, Simon hated himself for not even bothering to look at her name tag when they'd walked in, but it was much too late now. A few of the other people who'd been in the back of the shop looked alright, a few hadn't even tried to duck down yet, they’d been frozen in shock. One middle aged man in an expensive looking suit was flailing across the floor inside the shop like he was trying to swim through broken glass and blood. Which wasn't really that far away from what he was accomplishing either. Simon guessed that only about 45 seconds had passed since he was sitting at the table in the window, but felt like a lifetime ago already, it had only been 27.
Simon wheeled out along the front of the coffee shop and started running for their vehicle, some distance away he could see two white commercial vans peeling out and speeding across the parking lot toward him. They covered the distance between themselves and Simon almost instantly as the lead van accelerated straight towards him. Simon sweep in between a few parked just a little slower than he needed to. The lead van, side swiped the back ends of several cars trying to run him down, and Simon's shoulder managed to connect squarely with the passenger side mirror while his side caught the edge of the hood and bumper. Simon spun on his heels in a neat little circle, under different circumstances it would have looked almost graceful. He knew better than to try and catch himself from falling to the ground, staying on his feet sticking out above the tops of the cars around him would have been a death sentence. Besides, he was sure the impact hadn't broken his arm, only dislocated it. As he dropped to the pavement between two parked cars, automatic fire ripped across the top of the trunks of the vehicles around him. He could hear squealing tires at first racing away from him then a second later racing towards him. He was a sitting duck laying there in between those two cars, so he thought he might as well try getting to his feet instead of being gunned down laying on his back like a pig. Simon managed to pull himself into a leaning position just as the approaching vehicle pulled up. It was Luke, good thing too, because even though Simon thought he was lifting his pistol, his dislocated arm and sidearm both lay lifeless beside him. He was sure Luke was screaming something at him out the window, but darkness closed in around his vision as his ears filled with blood.
12. Race
From somewhere that sounded like miles away, Simon could hear Luke’s voice over his own heartbeat. Simon couldn’t tell if he was unconscious or not, he knew he wanted to open his eyes and try and stand up. But it seemed his body wasn’t willing to do either of those things.
“Simon!”
That must be Luke yelling, who else would know his name. Despite everything, that small moment of clarity was enough to carve a tiny smirk onto Simon’s face. A moment later, he could feel someone pulling on him, trying to get him up and on his feet, Simon did the best he could to comply, but when he tried to stiffen his legs he found he wasn’t sure they still worked anymore.
“We gotta get outta here Simon! We can't let them get too far away, and we sure as hell can't be here when the police show up. These fake IDs won’t mean anything if we get pinched for having a firefight in a parking lot.” Luke screamed, flinging the passenger side door open, trying to get Simon into the car.
Simon finally noticed he'd failed to raise his weapon and went to push himself up with his right arm instead, all at once discovering that not only had his right shoulder been dislocated, but his right foot had also been run over and broken. The pain instantly rushed in from every direction, lighting his senses on fire, overwhelming him like he was standing in front of tornado siren. The colors behind his eyelids turned from red, to white, then too static. Like individual drops of rain in a storm, Simon could occasionally make out single words.
“Simon!”
“Get...”
“ucking go”
“mnit.”
Then a new sensation came over Simon, one of being lifted or pushed. Then all at once he felt his body had traded the hard-blistering pavement for leather, stale gasoline for conditioned air, heavy flat gravity for forward inertia.
The inertia continued for some time, threatening to topple him over in his seat. But each time he lurked forward, he felt a hand reset him, almost always accompanied by shouting. Simon never noticed it, but at one point a bullet went through the head rest half a second after his head bounced off it, but that wasn't the luckiest break Simon had even that day.
It took Simon nearly half an hour to finally start coming around. The first full sentence from Luke he managed to make out was, “Keep your head down”, and his first conscious act was to vomit on the floor.
Simon, finally able to put one word in front of another said. “The whole right side of my body is numb, but my head feels like it's going to split right down the middle.”
Luke glanced over for a moment before returning to the task at hand. “Glad to see you can still talk, I wasn't sure you'd be able to come around.”
Simon weakly wiped at a stream of blood coming from his nose, not realizing it was also coming from his eyes and ears.
“Survive? Why? I was grazed by a mirror at about 35 miles an hour, not exactly good for my health sure, but not something that should be especially life threatening.” wheezed Simon.
“You must not even realize what happened then. When they drove past you one of them flashed you with a Gorgon lamp. I could see the pale red flash from where I was, I recognized the color as the one that’s meant to kill whoever gets it. The fact that you are even talking to me now proves to me that you really are nearly completely immune to the effect.” Explained Luke, casually jerking the wheel to avoid some obstacle.
“A red lamp? I didn't see anything like that, all I saw was the van while it was trying to crush me into paste.” Said Simon.
“Ya well, it happened. And I'm not sure exactly what kind of shape you're in. Just the impact alone has really fucked you up, but there's no way for me to tell what kind of damage the lamp or the accident did to you right now.” Explained Luke.
Simon struggled to sit up, every inch of his body felt like it was going to melt off his bones. Everywhere except where he was injured, his right foot and arm were numb and unresponsive. A wave of tingling fire surged over Simon’s body.
He lurched forward and banged his head hard on the dashboard. “I'm on fire man, I can't stand it, urgh!” Simon screamed.
“Shit, don't die on me like this Simon! Screw it. Call Nerva.”
Luke's ear-piece chirped to life instantly, connecting directly Nerva.
“Yes Luke.” Nerva said into his ear.
“Look you're gonna have to track their vehicle as best you can, I’m gonna pull off somewhere and do something for Simon. He's been hit by a car and was flashed by a red lamp.” Said Luke.
“And he's not dead? I'm currently watching the van from satellite, but I'll lose coverage in two hours fourteen minutes. Whatever you think you can do for him, do it quickly so you can get back on their trail.” Explained Nerva.
“Ya well, I don't have any medical supplies and we don't exactly have time for a hospital. I've gotta make sure the local police don't find me either, I'm going to have to switch vehicle's too. Besides, they are still trying to finish that fire fight I started out here on the road. I'd like to keep anymore civilians from getting killed if I can.” Shouted Luke, swerving around a stalled car that had been swiped by the escaping van ahead of him.
“Pull into the next road, go 3 miles and then go north along the dirt road you find there. It leads to a large stand of trees and serves as farm land access, there are no vehicles there and you should be able to stay hidden for a few minutes.” Said Nerva.
Luke glanced back at Simon nervously, he hadn't stirred since lurching forward and Luke thought for a moment he'd died. Fortunately, that was not the case as Simon managed a raspy choking cough as blood oozed out of his sinuses, down his throat and out his mouth.
“Good enough for not dead.” Thought Luke as he turned down the farm road toward what he hoped would be enough cover, at least for the time being.
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13. Wanderers
When Simon finally got his eyes open, everything looked like it was underwater. And based on the way he felt when he tried to draw a breath, he thought for a second he was. Reflectively, Simon tried to sit bolt upright to pull his head out of the imaginary water it was in but his body refused the command by firing lines of lightning pain down his midsection instead. The pain, more than anything, left him feeling relieved that he was in fact able to feel anything at all on his right side, no matter how terrible the sensation currently was. Simon unclenched his body from trying to sit up and instead drew a thin smile across his face. He wasn't paralyzed, and despite more protesting from his body, he found the fingers on his right hand could be wiggled when he wanted them too. The toes on his right foot weren't just protesting, they were in open revolt, but at least he could feel them, and that was enough for him now. Simon drunkenly whirled his head around trying to take in what he could of his surroundings though his half opened blurry eyes. Grassy ground, the dancing shade of sunlight playing through a canopy. In the distance, Simon though he could see the dark silhouette of car that had been planted for Luke and him.
“Luke! Shit where is he?” Thought Simon.
Simon rolled himself onto his stomach and managed to lift himself into a lopsided crawling position. Maybe they'd crashed somewhere, and Luke was hurt. Another thin almost reflexive smile slide across Simon's face. He was extremely injured himself, so what exactly did he do if he found Luke in need worse shape than he was himself?
