“If that’s true, then why would you transfer? Stick to what you’re good at.”
“You know what happens to bomb techs in this city? They end up making weapons for the armory. I want more than that. I want action.”
“The Hunter Division is not your playground.”
“I can learn.”
“Hunter’s are born, Pryor, not taught. We’re bred from quality stock and it flows in our veins.”
“When you graduate, you’ll want me by your side.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
From across the street, Ella’s name is called.
It’s Luka. The bus has arrived and it’s time to rejoin her classmates.
“You want my advice?” Ella offers Pryor some parting words. “Hire a private tutor during your suspension and make sure you don’t fall behind.”
Pryor nods, but Ella isn’t finished.
“If you want to stay in this Division, you have to make them see that you belong here.”
With that, Ella sprints across the road in between two Hunter Division trucks, and makes sure that she’s among the first of the Cadets to board the bus. Sandwiched between Luka and the Deputy General’s daughter, Rachel, her heart races with eagerness for what the day will bring.
Chimera.
Let loose in a designated sector of reclaimed territory, completely at the mercy of the Cadets and their weapons.
For safety, the Chimera have each been implanted with a small cyanide capsule, stitched into their stomach lining. The capsules are controlled by remote detonators, and each Cadet has one. The detonator only works within a short range, so if a Cadet finds themselves in serious trouble, the detonator can be used to dispatch their opponent.
With the sun climbing steadily into the sky, the Hunter Division Academy bus takes the Cadets beyond the city’s current fortifications and into the Second Reclamation Territory. Many of the northern and eastern sectors have been cleared, and their perimeters are protected by a series of guard units that are capable of frying anything that crosses their path.
Within one of these reclaimed sectors, in a region that backs out directly onto unreclaimed land, the Cadets will spend the day honing their skills—and Ella is one of the first out of the bus. She wastes no time in arming herself and disappearing into the concrete jungle alone, leaving Luka feeling spurned.
At this stage in their training, when the focus is still on personal development and combat skills, working in a team is not required, though it is encouraged. Luka had been hoping to spend the day by her side, fighting with her, and is disappointed to find that she has other ideas.
Equipped with a PP-2000 sub-machine gun, two HK USP handguns, and a belt full of ammo, Ella enters the field prepared. By the time the sun hits the center of the sky, she’s already claimed the lives of six Chimera, and another is in her sights.
The animal leaps off the roof of a building and flails clumsily all the way down to the ground. Ella, fast behind it, flies off the roof seconds later, performing a flawless tumble through the air and landing on her feet without the slightest hint of imbalance.
Looking up, she finds herself at the easternmost point of the sector, the guard units humming gently just a few meters away. Standing at five feet tall, the guard units are like slender pencils, connected to one another via two thin wires: one at the top, and one a few inches below the surface of the ground. Between these two wires, an electrical field is generated. Anything that should try to pass through them would be killed instantly.
Beyond them, the unreclaimed land beckons to her, full of gunfire and smoke and Hunter war cries. Suddenly, one of the Hunters in that sector—his identity obscured by a helmet—kicks a Chimera through a window and follows it out into the street. Several shots later, the Chimera is bleeding on the ground, motionless and lifeless.
The Hunter, aware that he’s being watched, turns slowly to face his audience. Ella glances down at the name on his Kevlar vest: Alexander King.
Momentarily distracted, she doesn’t seem to notice that the Chimera from the roof has shaken off its fall and is preparing to launch itself at her from behind. She allows the animal to build up its pace, getting ready to transfer weight to its hindquarters and to pounce upon her like a cat.
She waits, watching Alex carefully.
Flinch.
His hand moves toward his weapon, and that tells Ella the creature has successfully executed the pounce, and is in the air behind her. With practiced fluidity, she draws an HK USP and sinks into a crouching position, firing at the Chimera as it travels through the air above her.
She fires just one shot.
The shot, precision timed, enters the Chimera’s head beneath its jaw and severs the brain stem before exiting through the occipital bone with enough force to shatter it completely, casting off fragments of brain matter and meningeal fluid.
Dead before it hits the ground, the Chimera slams into the dirt and slides forward into the path of the guard units.
Cooked like dinner.
Its charred remains come to a halt at Alex’s feet, smoking and sizzling, and Ella flashes him a ‘beat that’ smirk.
Challenge accepted.
A Chimera that’s been stalking him from an alleyway across the street finally prepares to make its move. As it does so, Alex lays down his firearms. Taking a hunting knife from his belt, he stretches his shoulders and prepares for a fight.
The Chimera begins to circle him. Holding its nose low to the ground, it shifts its weight into its front quarters and tenses the muscles in its shoulders. Attempting to frighten its prey, it bares its teeth and huffs: snorting air through its nose to express dominance. At the same time, a shiver ripples down its back, its spinal tissue engorging with fluid as it raises its ‘hackles’ at Alex.
A second or two later, tiring of the ineffectiveness of its display, it launches its attack. Repositioning its weight into its back end, it dives toward Alex—and he reciprocates. He matches the animal’s speed, intending to hit the creature head-on. As they collide, he angles his body away from it, simultaneously driving his shoulder into the animal’s chest and his blade into its heart. Thrusting the knife in through the lower portion of its ribcage, he pushes the animal back and draws the knife upward.
Putting all of his weight and strength into the maneuver, Alex lifts the Chimera into the air, and then brings it down to the ground upon its back. As it lands, Alex forces his weight down onto his knee, positioned over the animal’s stomach, and he twists the knife inside its heart.
Blood gushes from the knife wound, and from the Chimera’s mouth, and it writhes in agony—but only for a moment. It collapses into death, and Alex pulls back his knife, blood dripping from the blade and from his hands.
He gets to his feet and looks over at Ella to gauge her reaction. She’s leaning carefully against one of the guard units, beaming at him.
He’s her hero.
Suddenly, there’s static. His headset crackles and he’s brought back to the reality of his work: another Hunter needs his help. He holsters the knife and retrieves his firearms, and by the time he glances back over to Ella, she’s gone.
Somewhere, on the other side of the fence, not so far away, she’s resting against the wall of a building, still quietly smiling to herself. Inside her chest, her heart beats in the most unusual way, and her stomach performs a full acrobatic somersault.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Let Loose
Another boring Friday night, another Belt fight.
Even though Ella’s wearing her Cadet uniform, and she’s armed, she has no intention of taking part tonight. She dare not risk another midnight injury to her hand.
Lingering beside the cage fence, she watches Luka tag team a Chimera with another Cadet. The animal is within a breath or two of death, after being beaten senseless with a crow bar and a crude-looking homemade mace.
And this isn’t the only fight that catches Ella’s attention.
On the other side
of the cage, a tall male figure in a cap and a hooded jacket tussles with a female Cadet. Ella recognizes the Cadet as one from her class: Tipper Jynx.
Curious, she watches as the man takes Tipper firmly by the wrist and forces her to face him. Tipper’s not having any of it, though. She tries to pull away, lashes out, and pushes him back, knocking the cap clean off his head.
It’s Alex.
Tipper succeeds in getting away, and even from this distance, Ella can see the frustration in Alex’s face. Unsure whether or not she should go to him, she keeps her eyes pinned on him, trying to make up her mind.
She doesn’t get the chance.
His sharp Hunter Division senses alert him to her gaze across the crowds, and he meets it—albeit briefly. A second later, he gathers up his cap and melts away into anonymity within the large mass of bodies around him. Ella attempts to make chase, but by the time she works her way out of the jostling throngs of Cadets, he’s already gone.
Not to worry. There’s only one way back to the Sentinel District, and she makes a bid to outrun him by exploiting her familiarity with the geography of the Belt. Dodging and weaving through shortcuts between buildings and down narrow alleyways here and there, she does manage to make it to the bridge first—with minutes to spare.
Skulking in the shadows, she watches him get closer. She thinks about approaching him, but something in his demeanor causes her to feel uncertain. He looks fraught and tense, and as he reaches the foot of the bridge, he seems to hesitate. He turns and looks back toward the Belt, a frown creasing his brow.
Ella senses sadness and wonders where it might be directed. At Tipper Jynx? At her? At the Belt fights?
Stopping beneath the electric hum of a streetlamp, Alex leans up against the side of the bridge. To his left, the Sentinel District is lit up against the night sky. To his right, the Belt is bathed in darkness; the electricity doesn’t go beyond this point.
He digs a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up. The smoke wafts through the air, and the scent of it fills Ella’s lungs. It’s oddly comforting; it reminds her of Maydevine.
Instead of pocketing the cigarettes again, Alex lays the packet and the lighter down upon the wall of the bridge and waits.
Somehow, he knows she’s there.
Her cover blown, she slips out of the darkness and snatches up the packet beside him. As she does, he pops out a pair of earphones and bundles up a portable music player.
“What’re you listening to?” she enquires, lighting up.
“Music.”
She grimaces. “Why?”
“Not the kind you’re used to. It’s Old World.”
“Is that better?”
Alex laughs, amused by her naivety. “Infinitely.”
Ella doesn’t care.
Gear shift.
“What business do you have with Tipper Jynx?”
“You know her?”
“She’s in my class.” Ella looks up at him. “What was it? A lovers’ tiff?”
Alex ignores the hint of jealousy behind her words. “Fuck, no. She’s just a kid.”
“She’s the same age as me.”
Silence.
“What would you do if anyone ever found out?” he asks at last.
“Found out what?”
“About the Belt fights. If there was some kind of evidence that placed you there, you’d lose your place in the Academy.”
Ella cocks an eyebrow. “Evidence?”
Alex takes a drag from his cigarette. “A cell phone video, something like that. Anything that could get back to the Hunter General.”
“I guess I’d have to hope that someone else got to it first.”
“And what if someone else didn’t? Is it worth the risk?”
“Alex, I—”
“I don’t think you should come back out here again.”
“Well, that’s not up to you.” Defiant.
“You’re better than this.”
“It’s good practice.”
“Once you’re sixteen, you’ll be eligible for the internship program, and you should be focusing your energies on that. Only the best students get accepted.”
Ella shakes her head. “My papa won’t allow it. He thinks I’m reckless.”
“So prove to him that you’re not. Stop fucking around in the Belt and making him chase about after you like a rabid weasel.”
Ella won’t keep eye contact, so he takes her chin in his hand and tilts her head up to face him.
“Show him what you’re capable of.”
It begins to rain.
“And let me take you home, for god’s sake.” He hugs his jacket around his shoulders. “You don’t want to be out here tonight. It’s going to get nasty.”
*************************
It’s the butt crack of dawn on Saturday morning.
Despite the fact that it’s the weekend, and she may well sleep in, Ella is wide awake. Unable to lounge in bed, she rises and showers and brushes her hair, and gets dressed for the day. The ‘Fuck Everything’ shirt is lying on top of her clean laundry pile, and even though she has a fondness for the shirt just the way it is, she’s tempted to make a quick alteration.
Making her way through the quiet Sentinel District streets, many folks still dead to the world, she heads briskly toward the Belt, deep in thought. She zips up her hoodie against the crisp morning air, almost enjoying the sharp twinge of pain as the cold air momentarily freezes her lungs with every other breath.
Even the Belt is quiet. Some kids—mostly those who never returned home from the night before—are either kicking a ball in a field, or smoking weed in the abandoned buildings.
Ella desires neither. Instead, she makes her way to a building near the water’s edge, in which she’s squirreled away a private stash of spray paint canisters. Along one of the building’s internal walls, her doodles can be found: various depictions of an Ella Cross, each one in a different style.
Here, she passes the time painting slogans and pictures over Old World ruins, and exploring the remnants of a lost civilization. Today, she wanders further into the building’s depths than she’s ever gone before. At the very back of it, in the remains of an old parking lot, she stumbles across a fascinating new toy.
It’s a vehicle of flight, she assumes, although how it works she cannot fathom. A metal shell on skates supports a large propeller, and seats four inside. The crumbling leather seats don’t offer much in the way of comfort anymore, but the engineering appears intact.
A scuffle.
Her hand reaches for the battered HK USP in the back of her pants, but she doesn’t draw. It’s only a bird, disturbed from foraging by her presence there.
Another scuffle.
This time, she ignores it.
Investigating various abandoned artifacts inside the dilapidated shell of Old World technology, she finds a book tucked beneath the pilot’s seat.
A map book.
Flicking through it, she discovers pictures of the entire Old World: other countries, and places she’s only read about in books.
Suddenly, a cacophony.
Every bird in the parking lot, and for blocks around, it seems, takes flight in unison. She barely has enough time to register the strangeness of it before a face appears in front of her.
A Chimera.
Just meters away, on the other side of the rusty metal bucket, its hungry face looks back at her.
“Shit!”
As she stumbles backwards, her foot catches in a weathered seatbelt. It holds just long enough to tip her off balance and send her to the ground, then it snaps and releases her. As she lands, the HK USP digs into her back and a wave of relief washes over her.
She has a weapon.
Thank fuck.
With not a second left to spare, she rolls out of the Chimera’s way as it leaps out of the rusty bucket and lands on the ground, onto what would’ve been her chest. She hauls herself onto her feet and puts some distance between them,
drawing her gun on the creature before it has time to attack her again.
This creature, an adolescent, is easily subdued and falls after three rounds. After that, her gun jams. She tries to lock another round into the breech, but the clip was dented in the fall and it stubbornly refuses to cooperate. No use left for it, she tosses the useless piece of junk aside.
She’s got bigger problems than that.
She knows there’s only one place a Chimera could’ve come from in the Belt, and she runs to the courtyard where the Belt fights are held. Until the moment she enters the corridor of holding cells, she clings to the slight possibility that it was just an isolated mistake.
Hoping to find the rest of the Chimera still sleeping there, caged and restrained, she tiptoes down the dark hallways of this Old World military building toward the cells where the Chimera are kept between fights. This place was last used during the evacuation of Old World New York City, to detain rebels and protestors during the viral crisis, and it’s proved to be the perfect place to store their playthings.
Or at least, it was the perfect place.
Not anymore.
Ella finds it suspiciously quiet, and she enters the holding cell corridor with trepidation. As she reaches the end of the corridor, all of her suspicions are validated.
The entire place is empty.
The chains used to secure the gates have all been cut, and all the animals have been released.
“Holy shit …”
Ella knows that action must be taken, and be taken swiftly. Using her knowledge of the Belt fights—and knowing how many Chimera were captive in the holding cells before last night’s fight—she deducts the number of dead, including the corpse of her unwelcome visitor in the parking lot, and arrives at a figure.
Seven.
Seven Chimera, all stalking the Belt for food. It’s more than she can handle alone and unarmed, and she has no other choice. She takes out her cell phone and pens a concise, anonymous message:
ALERT THE HUNTER GENERAL.
7 CHIMERA LOOSE IN THE BELT.
Ping!
Inamorato Page 7
