by K.Z. Freeman
The guards notice me as soon as I show up behind the ridge. The white stones around me refract little of the moonlight’s eastern slant through the rad-clouds, and I can barely see anything else beside the faint gleam silhouetting the two men standing before the tunnel. At first, none of them move. I raise my hands to show I am unarmed. I had hid my MP5 underneath the coat which Ty had borrowed to me so his shape would be more difficult to discern as he stands behind me, shrouded by the heavy fabric. I was right about the coat. It looks better on me.
I can feel his hands holding me over my backbones. He presses his elbows together, jamming them in my lower back, pulling his body as tightly together as possible. I try to keep my walk as natural as I can and pretty soon, we synch the movements of our legs perfectly, enough so the guards have little chance of noticing. We had practiced.
We come near to about thirty paces, when one of them yells out, “Stahp! Come any further and we’ll shoot!”
“I’m here with explosives,” I yell, “I’m the demolition expert, I just came to town and didn’t want to wait till morning to grab some cash from this place. Do you guys want in on the loot or not?”
I knew appealing to their self-interest and greed to be my best bet, but I didn’t realize they were smart enough to doubt my bullshit. I keep moving towards them anyway.
“I said stahp!” the man shouts again.
“I’m unarmed!” I plead. “Please, just let me show you the explosive charges. You’ll see then I’m telling you the truth, you can keep your guns on me the whole time, just don’t shoot me, dammit!”
I can see the two men standing torn about what to do. I have no doubt that, before this, pointing their guns had been enough to send anyone running. Now however…
I slow my steps. I had come near enough for Ty to take the shot, but he remains still, silent behind me.
I curse inwardly. I had stupidly not even buttoned up my attire. Treachery, my friends, finds us everywhere. It lets us know all monsters are real and that they all answer to the same name. Man.
Ty side rolls away from me, sits down, steadies his hand on his knee and takes two quick shots. Each lands squarely in between the men’s eyes, ruining their goggles but killing them instantly. One after the other, the two pitch back in silence.
“Nice going there,” he says with a nervous breath.
“Thanks,” I nod, the thoughts of betrayal still fresh in my mind. He walks to the man on the right while I take a look at the one on the left.
“Just as I thought,” he says, inspecting the battered AK47’s. “No bullets at all in this clip. Merde.”
“Too bad,” I say, “the Ancients made some fine guns. This one has a few.” I can see his expression change and know what he wants. I toss the gun to him and he nods his thanks. We strip the two men of their Kevlar vests and put them on.
If you can’t trust men, you can trust ancient technology to protect you from them.
Ty strips the other guy of his military vest and straps it on. Its high collar reaches over his nose. With the combination of the newly-found, beige vest and his wide-brimmed hat, he looks like a shape you don’t want to meet, not just in some dusty alley, but ever. I undress and hand him back his coat. A stupid gesture, but I always had a problem with stealing from those whose eyes are there to judge me while I do it. He waves it away. “Looks better on you,” he says. I couldn’t have agreed more.
CHAPTER 3
