by JN Chaney
Abigail did the same with the other, yet-to-be-shot soldier, wrapping his arms behind him and taking his gun.
“Hey, Bolin, buddy,” I began. “Got any cuffs we can use? Anything like that?”
“I, uh, I have some plastic ties,” he said, crouching behind the counter.
As he brought them over to me, I felt Mercer tense up. “Must be tough, not being in control,” I said, taking one of the straps from the shopkeeper.
“You’re the one not in control,” she said.
“Sure, lady, sure.” I took her left wrist and wrapped the strap around it, making certain it was nice and tight.
She leaned back to look at me, a slight smile on her face. “You must be from the Union or somewhere in the Deadlands, is that right?”
“Shut up,” I ordered. “It doesn’t matter where I’m from.”
“You’re not that familiar with Sarkonian uniforms, are you?”
I snapped the second half of the tie around her other wrist, finally securing her hands. “I swear, lady, you must just want a bullet, the way you keep talking.”
“Do yourself a favor, whoever you are, and look beneath the small flap beneath my jacket. The one with the button.”
I glanced at her stomach, following her eyes. “Why?”
“Just look,” she said. “It’s important for you to know.”
“If this is a trap, I’m going to shoot you. You know that, right?”
She nodded. “Of course, and I promise, it’s not.”
I slid my finger to the button and unhooked it, lifting the flap of clothing, revealing a small piece of metal no larger than my thumb. “What is this?”
“A voice recorder. My personal identifier. A number of things, really, packaged into one.”
“This thing is recording us?” I asked, jerking my hand back.
“And it just scanned your face,” she said, with a wry smile. “Oh, look at that.”
I saw a small reflection in her iris change. It must’ve been an implant for constant data retrieval. I’d heard of those before. Kept meaning to pick one up for myself, actually, but they were tough as shit to find on the market these days.
“Jace Hughes of The Renegade Star, is it?” she asked. “Looks like there’s a hefty price on your head. Maybe I won’t have you killed after all. Maybe I’ll only rough you up before I arrest you.” She glanced at Abby, and I saw another flicker in her eye. “Abigail Pryar, too. Wow, it looks like the bounty for you is even higher.”
I ripped the recording device from her clothes and dropped it on the floor, stomping and cracking it.
“It’s too late for that, Captain Hughes,” said Mercer. “The rest of my security personnel are already being dispatched.”
Abigail grabbed my arm. “We need to go!”
I pressed the barrel of my gun to the officer’s temple. It had to hurt, but she smiled through it. “Call them off!” I told her.
“Not a chance, Hughes.”
I started to squeeze the trigger, slightly pressing my finger to it, but stopped. A dead Sarkonian commander would only incentivize their fleet to hunt me down.
She smiled. “Smart move, Captain. You don’t want to add homicide to your record. That would be—”
I smashed the butt of my gun into the side of her face, sending her to the floor. She might not eat a bullet today, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t give her a headache. She collapsed in front of me, seemingly unconscious.
Abigail gasped. “Holy!”
“Tie these idiots up and let’s go!” I looked at Bolin. “Help me with the other guy.”
“Okay, right,” said the shopkeeper. The two of us dragged the bleeding soldier to the counter, wrapping his arms around one of the table legs and securing him. “What do we do now?” he asked.
“We get our asses out of here, that’s what,” I said, checking outside the tent. “And you’re coming with us.”
SEVEN
A bullet pierced the tent as soon as I opened the flap. I counted six soldiers, although I couldn’t be certain, given the panicking crowd. “We have a problem!” I said, lifting my gun. “Abby, grab Bolin and let’s go!”
“On it!” she returned, taking the shopkeeper by the arm. He was twice her size, but it was clear from the look on both their faces who exactly was in control.
“What are we doing?!” he asked.
“Running,” said Abigail, tugging him along. “Stay close and try not to get shot!”
The enemy soldier’s next blast struck Abigail’s cart, a meter to my left.
I returned fire, getting his chest, knocking him on his ass, but the other five were still coming.
“Move!” I yelled, running.
Abigail and Bolin followed, and the three of us bolted through the street in the direction we’d arrived. We had to get to the ship as fast as possible or risk the rest of this godforsaken army coming down on us.
More gunfire from behind as we neared the end of the first street, but I didn’t stop, not even to return fire. Not yet. There was no time, not when the entire city was about to go on high alert. We had to—
“Jace!” yelled Abigail, stopping a few meters after the turn. “Stop!”
“What the hell for?!” I asked, turning to see her holding Bolin, his arm around her shoulder. He was holding his other hand up, blood dripping from the place his finger used to be.
“Problem!”
I doubled back, almost sliding in the gravel. It took me a few seconds to get to them. “Can you keep going?”
“I-I think…I think so,” Bolin said.
I grabbed the rag from his pocket and wrapped it around his fucked-up hand. “Keep your shit together and move!”
The soldiers weren’t far behind us. There wasn’t enough time to deal with a gunshot.
As if to answer me, Abigail said, “We can’t leave him here, Jace!”
“Dammit, Abby,” I said, taking the shopkeeper’s other arm and throwing it over my shoulder.
We kept moving, trying to keep our pace. A siren began ringing through the intercom system in the dome. “EMERGENCY ALERT. CRIMINAL ACTIVITY IN PROGRESS. PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR HOMES.”
“That must be us,” I said as we stumbled through the street. I tapped the com in my ear. “Siggy, can you hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Sigmond.
“Start the goddamn ship! We’re almost there!”
“Of course, sir. Preparing for launch.”
“What about the others?” asked Abigail.
“Siggy, where’s the rest of the crew?” I asked.
“With the exception of yourselves, all personnel are safely aboard the ship, sir.”
“Good, tell everyone to strap in and get ready. We’re almost there.”
“Acknowledged, sir.”
I glanced behind me and spotted a few soldiers making the turn to our street. “Hurry up!” I barked.
The exit was just before us. A dozen more meters and we’d be in the clear.
Shots fired from behind. “Stop where you are!” yelled one of the men.
I let go of Bolin’s arm. “Get him on the ship!” I said. I pulled out my pistol and fired a quick two shots. “I’ll be there in a second!”
Abigail didn’t bother arguing. Maybe she finally understood how orders worked. “Fat chance,” I said, popping another two shots off.
I dropped behind a nearby vehicle, hoping it would make decent cover, and continued firing at the soldiers. The first shot went wide and shattered a storefront window, but the second and third hit one in the shoulder and thigh. The fourth hit struck a soldier’s rifle and nearly knocked him on his ass.
I took cover again, reloading.
A steady stream of bullets continued to fly above my head, bursting out the glass and rocking the vehicle. I felt the impact through my body as I kept my head down and hugged the front of the car.
I leaned beneath the vehicle’s underbelly, firing six shots in quick succession and hitting two of the men
in the feet. The second they hit the ground, I unloaded on them. “Siggy, if you have any ideas on how to get out of this, I’m all ears!”
“One moment, sir. I’ll attempt to hack their security network to cancel the alert.”
“That won’t do any good! What about the people trying to kill me?”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that, sir.”
I reached inside my belt and withdrew my emergency smoke grenade. “Fuck me,” I muttered, throwing it over the back of my head.
It landed a few meters in front of the still-standing soldiers. “Grenade!” yelled one as they scrambled to take cover.
Using the hood of the car, I leveled my barrel and fired rapidly into the smoke. I couldn’t see anything, but several screams followed.
A good sign.
I heard a voice from close by. “What are you doing?!”
I snapped my eyes around.
Not far from my position, sitting behind one the stalls, I saw the same merchant who’d tried to sell me weapons when I first entered this godforsaken town. He was hiding beneath his stall, looking at me with a rattled expression. “Get your ass out of here before you get yourself killed, moron!” I told him.
“I can’t leave my merchandise!” he said. “What did you do to piss off security?!”
“I shot one of them,” I said, pulling my pistol around my head and firing three more shots. I heard a scream and guessed I landed one.
Bullets continued to strike the side of the vehicle, denting the metal and popping two of the tires.
I reached for another magazine, but noticed I was out.
The merchant ducked behind his stall when a Sarkonian bullet nearly blew his head off. A second later, he leaned out the other side.
“Got any ammo back there?” I asked him, quickly.
He raised his brow. “I can sell you some bullets,” he said, reaching into his stall. “That’s a Z91, right? Hold on.”
The shift in his tone took me by surprise. He’d gone from petrified to professional in ten seconds flat. “Yeah, think you can handle that?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll sell you a few magazines if you can transfer the money.” He showed me a credit pad.
Another burst of gunfire struck the car beside me. “Okay! How much for two magazines?”
He pursed his mouth. “Let’s say, five hundred each.”
“Five hundred credits? Are you serious? The sign over there says you have the cheapest prices in the sector.”
“What can I say?” He grinned. “Demand has skyrocketed.”
I started to tell him to toss the mags, but stopped myself. Why was I only going for more ammo when I had an arms dealer right in front of me? “What else you got?” I asked.
He gave me a sly smile. “What do you want?”
“How about some grenades?”
He stuck a hand inside his stall and brought out a small box. “Whatever you want, sir. Eight hundred creds for two.”
I tapped my ear. “Siggy transfer one thousand, eight hundred credits to the asshole arms dealer named…” I paused. “Hey, jackass, what’s your name?”
“Garin Shill,” he said.
Even the fucker’s name sounded sleezy.
Garin watched his pad for clarification, grinning once the transfer came through. “There it is!” he said, and tossed the first magazine to me. “Happy doing business with you, friend!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, catching and sliding the bullets into my pistol. “Damn crook.”
He followed with the second magazine, which I stowed in my belt for now, and finally the grenades.
“Move forward!” I heard a man’s voice yell. “He has to be out by now!”
I smirked. “Not anymore.”
* * *
By the time I had the second magazine inserted, I still hadn’t made any progress. The Sarkonian soldiers were keeping their distance, refusing to let me get clear of this spot. I wondered how much more this vehicle could take before a bullet managed to tear its way through and into my flesh.
I eased up along the front of the car, trying to aim, but another shot hit the hood, forcing me down. “Give up, Renegade!” yelled a familiar voice.
That sounds like that Mercer woman, I thought. “I see you’re awake!” I yelled back.
“Don’t think you’ll get away with that!”
I took a breath, glancing at the exit. It was only a dozen yards from here, but the corridor went on for a bit before the first turn. I might get shot in the back if I tried, but I couldn’t wait here to get caught.
I shot at the group again. I didn’t wait to see the damage, but I knew I’d struck one guy in the waist and another in the crotch. Not a bad combo.
“That’s enough, Captain Hughes!” barked Mercer. “I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to!”
“I think you might have to, because I’m not letting you collect that bounty!” I yelled.
The merchant was still bunkered down at his shop, watching me. I wondered how long he’d wait before the money was no longer worth it.
“Hey, asshole, gimme something bigger!” I yelled. “I need a fucking army!”
“You’ll want the black-label merchandise, then,” said Garin. He reached under his shirt for a small locket, then swept it across the stall’s side. The wall slid open, revealing a hidden compartment.
“What the fuck is that?” I asked.
He grinned, opening it. “Ever heard of a Howlizter 47?”
My eyes widened. “No way,” I muttered.
He pulled the gun out of the box—a small enough weapon that you could trick the untrained eye into thinking it was nothing more than a pistol, but I knew what a Howlizter looked like. The three-centimeter grip housing the micro-generator gave it away, along with the silver-lined trim surrounding it. “Catch!” he yelled, tossing the gun in the air, high above our heads.
I caught it, tossing my own pistol to my other hand in the process. The weight felt good as I wrapped my fingers around the tiny death cannon.
“You’ll want to prime the generator by pressing that red button next to the trigger,” said Garin.
I ran my index finger along the side, finding it. “There we go,” I said, pressing it.
The gun hummed gently in my palm. “Purs like a dream, doesn’t she?” asked Garin.
“Last chance, Hughes!” yelled Mercer.
I looked at Garin. “Better keep your head down!” I told him, then set my finger on the trigger and turned with my arm extended, taking aim at the small army.
I squeezed it, and a beam of red energy exploded from the barrel of the cannon, cutting through the nearby vehicles, slicing a line straight through their tops. Glass shattered in six cars instantly as my hand swept across the battlefield.
The Sarkonians dived out of the way, avoiding the beam as it moved across the place their heads had been. One was too slow, and the hot light cut through his wrist, slicing his hand clean off, along with the rifle he’d been holding. He screamed in a panic.
The laser stopped after a few seconds. I turned to look at Garin, who gave me a shrug. “It’s only good for one shot,” he told me.
“You mother fuck—”
Gunfire broke up my sentence as the soldiers got back on their feet. Mercer shouted something I couldn’t understand, and then she motioned to one of the soldiers, who handed her something.
She threw them in my direction, but they landed closer to Garin, rolling a few meters closer to him.
“Oh, shit,” I said. “Grenades! Get out of—”
The explosion threw me back against the vehicle beside me, and I felt a wave of heat as I shielded my face. When I took my arm down, I saw a hole where the stall used to be.
Goddammit, Garin.
A figure appeared from the exit tunnel, but they were hard to make out through the grenade smoke. “Jace?! Where are you?”
“Who is that?” I asked.
As the smoke lifted, I sa
w Abigail standing in the tunnel, looking in my direction. She was holding something.
Something big.
“Abby? What the fuck are you…is that what I think it is?!” I shouted.
She didn’t answer. Not with words, anyway. Instead, I got my confirmation when she propped up the massive quad cannon in her arms and fired an explosive shot toward the Sarkonians. The blast sent her flying back, into the hover cart she’d used to carry the other half of the equipment.
The bomb hit the ground between me and the military, shattering the concrete and sending multiple vehicles into the nearby buildings.
The entire dome echoed with thunder. My ears rang so loud I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to hear again. Before I could get back on my feet, I felt Abigail’s hands on my wrist, pulling me up. “Come on!” she yelled into my face.
I blinked a few times, dragging myself up. Before I knew it, I was running behind her, passing by the quad cannon. “Wait!” I shouted. “I need this!”
I grabbed hold of it and lifted it onto the floating cart, pushing the bulky cannon through the hall. Abigail got beside me and helped.
