Time Was

by Steve Perry

  Zac felt Radiant’s body go rigid, as if she’d just been hit by a ten-thousand-volt shot of electricity, and he knew right away that something was wrong, that she was concentrating on homing in on the source of the danger, and his next thought was not for her safety, nor was it for his own—it was for the child’s and the child’s mother, so he began scanning the immediate area for someplace he could get them out of the line of fire. . . .

  Rudy had the guns out now, hanging by his sides, close by his sides so no one would notice, and suddenly he felt more powerful than he’d ever felt in his entire, miserable, stinking life, because for once he had the upper hand, he had the power, he was in control, and damn if that wasn’t the best feeling in the world because there was no way DocScrap and his little robo-slut where going to deny him his moment of glory again, so as he came up within a yard of their backs he began lifting the guns, aiming right at the base of their necks. . . .

  Killaine felt as if she were moving in slow motion as she jumped away from the Six Cat booth and started running toward Zac and Radiant, knowing full well there was no way she was going to get to them in time, she’d have to aim for the Shooter and that could be dangerous because there were other people at the booth, not mention her sweet, loving Morgan inside, so whatever she did would have to be swift and decisive and it would have to work the first time out because there wouldn’t be a second chance here, but she wasn’t going to do a damn bit of good if she didn’t start moving faster. . . .

  Radiant waited until she could feel the heat from the attacker’s body enter her own body space, and she read his heat and knew three things right away: 1) It was a he, and a young he, at that, maybe fifteen, sixteen at the most; 2) One of his weapons was an electron gun that was pointed at the base of her neck, which meant he knew she was robotic; and 3) It was the same kid who’d broken into the warehouse the other night and tried to bite a chunk out of Zac’s hand. With maybe five seconds left—she felt the energy of his flesh merging with that of the guns, which meant his fingers were on the triggers—she leaned a little toward Zac and whispered, “The Biter’s right behind us,” then straightened herself, readying to make her move. . . .

  “The Biter’s right behind us,” whispered Radiant to Zac, and he felt himself grow cold all over, because whoever that kid was, he was stone crazy, even if he didn’t know it, and someone who was stone crazy wouldn’t care who he hurt or killed, just so long as he accomplished what he set out to do, which was, of course, to kill Zac, but there wasn’t time to think about that because Zac felt Radiant’s arm slip away from him and he knew there were maybe a couple of seconds left before all hell broke loose, so Zac did the only thing he could do, the only thing that mattered to him, he moved forward to block the kid with his own body. . . .

  Rudy was less than a foot away when he saw the Piece lean over and whisper something in the Doc’s ear, and Rudy knew, with all the primitive survival tendencies that are part and parcel for one who lives on the streets, that the Piece had somehow spotted him, but all the while a small voice in his head was screaming, That can’t be, they’ve been looking at that little brat all this time, no way they saw me!, then another part of his mind kicked in, reminding Rudy that the Piece was, probably, likely, had to be another robot, right, and maybe this one had some kind radar built into her so she could tell when someone was sneaking up on her, but by the time this registered Rudy no longer cared, he was remembering the taste of DocScrap’s blood on his tongue, so he pushed his arms out like a couple of ramrods and surged forward, and son-of-bitch if that’s not when the Piece took her arm away from the Doc and the dude made a dive for the kid. . . .

  Killaine was running as fast as she dared with this many people surrounding her, people she could hurt if she rammed into them, but no matter how fast she was going she feared it wasn’t going to be fast enough, and all she could think was, Do something, Radiant! Do it now, you have to know he’s behind you, but then she had to veer to the side in order to avoid colliding with a woman pushing a set of newborn twins in an oversized stroller, and in veering out of the way she nearly slammed into a vendor pushing his mobile hot dog cart up the midway, so she had to hit the brakes and back up, move to the side, squeeze past a large group of teenagers, and by the time she was back on track it was too late, because she heard the gunshots and the sound of splintering wood and someone yelling and, worst of all, the high-pitched sound of someone screaming in pain. . . .

  Radiant pulled her arm away from Zac and saw Zac move toward the child, then she felt the kid with the guns pull in a breath and knew this was the crucial moment, so she brought her right hand up to her face as she snap-kicked backward at the Biter’s knee to disable him but she must have been more rattled than she thought, because she didn’t pulp his kneecap as the snap-kick was intended, she connected instead with his shin and felt the bone crack but not break, but that was all right, it would have to do, so she spun around, bringing her right arm down at an arc, then ripping it upward and to the side, slamming her elbow against the Biter’s left arm—at least, that was the idea—but her thoughts were still with Zac and the mother and her child, so all she managed to do was connect with the electron gun, which went up, up, and away, spinning in the air, landing somewhere far behind him, and she relished the look of shock on his clown-painted face, but only for a millisecond because he still had the other gun, and he did something she didn’t expect, he fell down onto the ground, and as she worried that maybe she’d done more damage to him than she’d thought, he went down and squeezed the trigger of the Magnum that gave out with the brightest, ugliest muzzle flash Radiant would ever see. . . .

  When Zac broke away from Radiant he went into a stoop-run, shoving his arms in front of him to get hold of the child, the child, the child, nothing mattered at the moment but getting the child out of the line of fire, and as he threw himself toward the kid he heard the child’s mother shriek and he heard the unmistakable sound of a bone cracking behind him and he heard the Biter scream in agony and then Zac smiled because he had his hands on the child’s waist and was pulling him away from the counter and down toward the ground, and half a second later it dawned on Zac that he shouldn’t have let his guard down long enough to feel safe, because that’s when he felt something along the lines of a rabid grizzly bear’s claws rip through his shoulder, and now the kid was staring at him, white-faced with fear as some of Zac’s blood spattered against his cheek, and then the grizzly bear swiped its claws again and as they hit the ground Zac closed his eyes and readied himself for the pain, the fire, the agony, but it didn’t come, and he wondered if he’d started going into shock already, then he pulled up just a little so the child wouldn’t be crushed by his weight and got a good look at the child, and then Zac Robillard did something that he hadn’t done since the night Jean died in his arms, he threw back his head and released a howl of anguish and grief. . . .

  Rudy realized that the Piece had gotten him with a backward kick, and he didn’t have time to wait for the pain to register, he’d deal with that later, so he pushed the electron gun forward and that’s when the Piece whirled around and brought her arm up and Taichopped at his arm, connecting only with the electron gun and sending it into the air, and Rudy allowed himself a half-second to think, Score one for the robo-slut, then he went down, went down hard, doing a quick tuck-and-roll and grabbing the Auto-Mag from its hiding place, and the Piece had made the mistake of turning her attention toward the woman and the kid and hadn’t noticed that Rudy was now down on the same level with the Doc, so Rudy opened fire with the Auto-Mag and saw the first bullet rip through the meaty part of DocScrap’s shoulder, blowing tissue and blood every which way, and the second bullet blew a section of the booth’s wooden counter all to shit, so Rudy did a fast roll to the side and plowed off another shot at the Doc, but this one seemed to go wild because the Doc didn’t seem hit, but then came a glorious sound and sight, DocScrap throwing his head back and howling like a wounded animal, and that sound was en
ough to shift all of Rudy’s reptilian impulses into high gear, and he pulled himself up onto his feet and staggered the hell out of there while the confusion was on his side. . . .

  Killaine saw the Shooter limp off but she didn’t care about that at the moment, all she could see was the shuddering form of Zac on the ground, the back of his shirt soaked in blood, a good piece of meat ripped from his shoulder, but then there was another crowd in her road because people were stopping, freezing in their tracks, realizing that Something Terrible had just happened, but Killaine was going too fast to stop and if she collided with anyone right now she’d probably break all the bones in their body, so she did the only thing she could, she executed a move Itazura had taught her once, she threw herself forward and down, arms and hands extended, catching her own weight and pushing her upside-down body into the air, soaring over the heads of the gawking crowd, somersaulting over them, landing on her feet on the other side and rocketing forward, thinking only of her dear Zachary, her dear Radiant, and her dear Morgan, and she was almost on them when she saw Zac roll to the side and then Killaine stumbled because there was the kid, the poor, innocent child, being swallowed by the merciless teeth of chronos, blood pumping from the upper portion of his right arm where the third bullet had gotten him, and that’s when Killaine did something she’d never done before, she let her warrior’s instincts go to hell in a handbasket and just surrendered to the blood-craziness. . . .

  * * *

  And over by the pie-eating contest, the local news crew was getting all of it on tape.

  The reporter couldn’t help but want to smile.

  What an exclusive!

  Pictures at eleven . . .

  Trying to gain a good headstart on anyone who might come after him, Rudy caught a peripheral glimpse of some dude dressed up like a cowboy riding a horse, just trotting toward the midway like it was only another day on the range, and he measured his chances, decided to go for it, and pistol whipped a nearby old man across the back of his skull and spun around, pushing the Auto-Mag out as he ran up beside the horse and yelled, “Get off or I’ll blast your fuckin’ face!” and the cowboy, who obviously wasn’t raised in no barn, practically threw himself out of the saddle, and the dude hadn’t gotten one foot on the ground before Rudy swung his leg up and slipped his foot into the stirrup, threw himself up onto the saddle, then jerked on the reins and made the horse turn around—then it was just a matter of kicking the thing a good one in the side with his steel-toed boot and the horse whinnied, threw back its head, and broke into a gallop. . . .

  Zac looked down at the little boy and wanted to scream again, but by now Daniel Morgan had come out from the booth and was dragging a big metal box with him, a medical kit, no doubt, then Killaine was there, kneeling down with Radiant; Killaine was trying to hold Zac and keep pressure on his wounds while Radiant cradled the little boy’s head in her lap and pressed a cloth against his right arm.

  Zac pulled in a deep, pained breath and said, “Is he . . . is it serious?”

  Radiant touched the boy’s sweaty forehead and said, “He’s in a lot of pain but the bullet didn’t break any bones or major blood vessels. He’s going to live but I don’t know if he’ll ever have full use of this arm again.”

  Killaine felt the blood-craziness taking over again, knowing damned well she should have taken off after the Shooter but wounded innocents came first, always, no arguments; she looked at Zac, who swallowed and nodded his head, then she looked at Morgan who said, “I already called for the EMTs, they got a trailer at the other end of the park, they’re on their way,” then she looked and saw the Shooter pulling himself onto a horse and galloping away, and then Zac had her hand in his and was saying, “Don’t let him get away,” and that was all Killaine needed.

  She gently ran her hand over Zac’s face, let Morgan take over the first aid, then took off at full speed after the horse and its rider. . . .

  Rudy had no idea how far away he was from the scene of his wreckage when the horse started bucking up its ass and spinning around in a circle, trying to throw him. He held on as best he could but the horse was mad, and it was scared, and it wanted him off its back, and with another snort, buck, and spin, it sent Rudy flying away from its saddle and into a cluster of tables by a hamburger stand.

  Rudy crashed down onto one of the empty tables, smashing it to pieces, lay there for a moment feeling stunned, then pulled himself up and saw a family at a nearby table coming toward him, the father asking him, “Are you all right?”

  Rudy shoved the Auto-Mag into the guy’s face and said, “Back off!”

  The guy made a move to shield his wife and kids but he was too slow.

  Rudy lunged forward and grabbed the guy’s little daughter by her strawberry-blond hair, pulling her into him.

  He wrapped one of his arms around her waist, lifted her off her feet, and pressed the gun against her temple.

  She was a smart kid; she didn’t struggle.

  The father made a move toward them, so Rudy snapped the gun away and fired at the guy, blowing his left knee to smithereens, and as the guy hit the ground screaming Rudy put the gun back against the little girl’s temple and backed out of the snack area, making slow, small circles so he could get a good look at everyone around him.

  “Go on!” he shouted at the gawkers. “Go on, somebody try something! You wanna be wearing her brains in your hair? COME ON!”

  No one made a move toward him.

  He worked his way out of the snack area, having no idea where he was going to go.

  And that’s when he saw the redheaded bitch come out of nowhere. . . .

  Killaine saw the horse gallop past dozens of attractions and rides, and for a minute it was difficult to keep up with it because of the crowds, but then people started to make room for horse and rider and she was able to judge their location by the gaping holes in the throngs of bodies, and she couldn’t help but feel satisfied when she saw the horse buck and throw the Shooter.

  She made her way quickly toward them, somersaulting over a cluster of shocked carnival-goers and landing on her feet only a few yards away from the snack area.

  She hit the entrance at the same time the Shooter came stumbling out with a terrified little girl dangling from his arm.

  He caught sight of Killaine and turned in her direction, pressing the gun harder into the girl’s temple. “Hey, bitch! Come for a little taste of my Power, have you?”

  “Let her go,” said Killaine calmly, taking a step forward.

  “Fuck you!” screamed the Shooter.

  And it was then Killaine recognized his voice.

  “You’re the Stomper from the other night.”

  Rudy let fly with a cackling, high-pitched laugh. “Give the bitch a cee-gar!” He continued moving away from her.

  Killaine saw him glance very quickly in the direction of the merry-go-round only ten yards away.

  No, she thought. You can’t be that stupid.

  But he was, and then some. . . .

  Rudy pulled himself along with all he had, tightening his grip on the little girl who’d gone limp in his arms, and when he was about a yard away from the merry-go-round he realized that she’d passed out on him, that she was deadweight because half the bargaining power of taking a hostage was using their fear to your advantage, and you didn’t get no fear out of someone who was out like a light, so he took a breath, threw the unconscious girl toward the redheaded bitch, then started firing at random, blowing out neon lights, shattering the mirrors outside the fun house, and hitting the french-fry vat in the snack area, sparking the metal and igniting the grease in a huge cloud of fire and smoke.

  Within seconds most of the snack stand was in flames.

  Employees and patrons alike charged away from the conflagration.

  “WREEEEEEEEEEECKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE!” screamed Rudy, then turned tail and ran-limped as best he could toward the merry-go-round. . . .

  Killaine checked to make sure the little girl was alive and unh
armed, breathing a sigh of relief when she felt a strong pulse.

  She shielded the girl from the Stomper’s panic-fire, feeling one of the bullets wing off her own back, puncturing her flesh but doing no real damage.

  Then the snack area exploded into flames and the frightened mob of people poured over them.

  Killaine covered the little girl with her own body as people stomped, kicked, and clawed their way past, often over them, more than a few stepping on her back in their mad dash to survive.

  When she at last dared to lift her head, she saw a woman in tears, kneeling over a man with a bloody leg a few feet away.

  “Ohgod!” screamed the woman. “John, John, I can’t see Emily, I can’t see her anywhere!”

  By then the little girl was coming around.

  Killaine gently tapped the girl’s cheeks, helping her back to consciousness.

  “Who . . . who’re you?” whispered the girl, hoarsely.

  “Is your name Emily?”

  “Uh-huh . . . where’s . . . where’s the bad man?”

  “The bad man’s gone, hon. Do you think you can walk?”

  “. . . think so . . .”

  Killaine helped the girl to her feet, then shouted, “Ma’am! Ma’am, over here!”

  The woman saw her daughter, safe and unharmed, and ran toward her.

  Killaine kissed Emily’s forehead, patted her on the cheek, then went after the Stomper. . . .

  Rudy fell onto the rotating platform of the merry-go-round and damn near hit his head against one of the wooden horses.