by KJ Harlow
“It looks like there’s only about thirty of them. Let’s just go around and sneak back on the ship.”
“We’re on a bit of a tight schedule so let's turn it up a notch, shall we?” Mortimer said.
Suddenly, all we could hear was the grinding of metal on metal as freight containers all over the port opened up. Conflicted poured out and immediately began searching for us.
“Why look for you ourselves when you will eventually give yourselves up?” Mortimer cackled.
“Agatha, Tracy, spread out! If Stan’s on the ship, that means there’s only the two of them here. It’s harder to get us if we spread out,” the female Deliverers acquiesced as we sped off in different directions.
“Silas, what’s your position?”
“I haven’t been found yet but I can see where the Conflicted are moving to.”
“OK, hold your position. Keep looking for the Tormented. Let me know once you see them.”
“Walter, how quickly do you think you can come up?”
“On my way now,” he said through his Light Bug.
“Everyone, try not to shoot the Conflicted. That will give us away. They’re waiting for us to make the first move. Our goal is to play their stupid game until we have a location on Mortimer and Matylda. We’ll take them out and that will give us enough time to board the ship. Are we clear?”
“Roger!” The Deliverers cried in unison.
“Come out, come out wherever you are…” Mortimer said in a sing-song voice.
Damn it – more Conflicted. I doubled back, pressing myself against the shipping container I had just passed. We had been at this for nearly twenty minutes. In the distance, I heard more metallic groaning as the door to yet another shipping container ground open.
“There are now over 800 of us searching for you. Which one of you is going to be found first?” Mortimer said sardonically.
“If there are 800 of you and you still haven’t found us, who’s the one losing the game?” Tracy murmured into her Light Bug.
I smiled wryly to myself. It seemed like my favorite Deliverer was back in business.
“How is everyone?” I asked under my breath. “Silas?”
“Fine on my end. Just watching the Conflicted walking around.” He replied, sounding slightly bored. “Oh and still not sure Mortimer and Matylda are. Sorry.”
“Agatha?”
“These brainless imbeciles have got nothing on – oh!”
“Agatha?” I asked, trying to stay calm. “What happened?”
“Hello, Agatha!” Tracy said brightly. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“It appears that we are cornered,” Agatha said wearily. “That last release of Conflicted cut down on one more path we used to evade them.”
I hid behind some shipping container doors as I waited for a group of Conflicted to swarm past.
“Rose, are you there?” Tracy said, an urgent tone starting to creep into her voice.
“Yeah. How long do you think you have before the Conflicted see you?”
“Not long. Thirty seconds, tops.”
I chewed on my bottom lip as I shifted the weight between my feet. In this case, Tor would just blast his way out. The longer I waited, the more likely that was going to be the only option.
“Rose, I’ve got an idea,” Silas said.
“OK, I’m all ears.”
“Mortimer and Matylda are doing this to try and flush us out. Presumably, they will come out and want to Cease us as soon as we give up our location,” he paused for a moment as he surveyed the landscape. “Eighty percent of the Conflicted have moved towards the north-east corner of the port. I’m assuming that’s where Agatha and Tracy are. I can fire a shot in that direction and distract them. It will take at least a minute for them to get to me. Mortimer and Matylda will appear as well and try to Cease me.”
“But that’s suicide!” I exclaimed.
“Better one Deliverer than two,” Silas said somberly.
I was quiet as his words sunk in.
“Rose, we don’t have much longer…” Tracy said. “Our backs are literally against the wall here.”
“OK Silas, do it. As soon as you shoot, I’ll know where you are. I’ll take care of the Tormented before they shoot you.”
“I’d really appreciate that.”
“On my count. Three… two… one… fire!”
Silas’ sniper rifle pierced the night as he felled three Conflicted with one well aimed shot. I climbed up on top of the shipping container I had taken refuge in and spotted a lone gunman standing on top of a stack of containers five high. I lay on my belly keeping my gun focused on Silas.
“Rule number one… rule number one… rule number one…” I whispered to myself. A swell of Conflicted seeped amongst the cracks between the containers towards Silas. He was on one knee, aiming and shooting at Conflicted that had started climbing the containers. Where were the Tormented? I cast at eye at the ship. Were they trying to distract us while they made their getaway?
There was a flash of steel that appeared behind Silas. A Conflicted had climbed up from behind. It pulled its arm back, ready to hack across his legs.
“Look out!” I pulled the trigger. The Conflicted’s head jerked back as it let go and fell down to its demise. Silas spun around and noticed the blade that lay at his feet.
“Thanks Ro–” Silas froze as two guns jammed into either side of his head.
“Got you,” Mortimer sneered, his finger curling on his trigger.
“No!” My scream was drowned out by a flurry of gunshots. Matylda and Mortimer looked towards Tracy and Agatha’s direction. Mortimer’s top lip curled in disgust.
“Go,” he ordered Matylda, who disappeared immediately. “Now where were we?” He sneered.
I raised my gun aiming at Mortimer’s head. Mortimer had suddenly sprawled onto his back. I looked up and blinked. Someone had swept him over and was standing over him, gun pointed to his chest. Without hesitating, he unloaded six rounds into Mortimer’s chest.
“Sorry I took so long – was dealing with a pest problem,” Walter said dryly, looking down at the scourge of Conflicted milling around on the ground.
“Walter!” Silas breathed.
“You alright?” Walter said, his eyes not leaving the Tormented laying underneath him.
“Yes, thank you,” Silas said shakily. “I thought I was done for,” he jumped slightly as Walter shot another bullet into Mortimer’s chest. Walter flashed a crooked grin across at him.
“The only thing that is done for is the Tormented’s plans. Do you mind getting that?” He jerked his head over to the Conflicted who had just made it to the top of the tower of containers.
“O-of course,” Silas walked around Walter and stamped his foot on the Conflicted’s hand. It tumbled down and crashed into its colleagues below. For good measure, Silas unloaded a dozen rounds straight down.
“Rose, Silas and I have contained the situation here,” Walter said over the Light Bug. “Agatha, Tracy, what’s happening down your end of town?”
“I’m a little busy right now,” Tracy yelled above the gunfire.
“I’m taking care of the girl,” Agatha said matter-of-factly as she fired another round into a temporarily incapacitated Matylda.
I closed my eyes breathed a sigh of relief. That was a close one. If Walter hadn’t turned up when he did, we would have gone back to the Underworld with one less Deliverer. Greg’s cheeky grin appeared in front of me. I remembered how reassuring his hug was after leaving the chapel in the children’s hospital. No more Deliverers were going to be Ceased on my watch.
“Rose. The ship,” Silas said.
I spun around, looking towards the water. The cargo ship with the “47” on the side of it was gone.
“No!” I yelled. I leaped from container to container, alerting multiple Conflicted of my presence. They chased after me as I landed on the dock and Soul Stepped towards the pier. The cargo ship had silently departed the port and was heading
east. There was no way I could make it onto the deck of the ship now.
That’s when I saw it: the anchor. It was slowly being cranked up a big hole on the side of the ship. Surely there had to be a way to get back onto the deck from the anchor room? I didn’t pause to think. My feet were carrying too much momentum as the pier came to an end. I launched myself into the air and dived into the freezing water.
All the air was knocked out of my body by the impact. I came up, gasping. My glasses had water on them. I could just make out the outline of the ship. I had covered most of the distance the ship had traveled from the port in my jump. Desperately, I swam and kicked my way towards the anchor. It had almost completely come out the water. With my lungs screaming in protest, I wrapped my body around the anchor and let it slowly pull me up into the belly of the ship. I was in shock. My body had stopped shivering; a bad sign. I clung onto the anchor for dear life as it swung from side to side after it had been completely wound up.
All around me I could hear gigantic cogs clunking rhythmically. I couldn’t see anything. I retched as my body rejected the sea water I had swallowed. I had to get off this anchor somehow. Wrapping one arm around the body of the anchor, I reached out and searched for something to grab on to. My knuckles collided with a steel railing then concrete before I pulled my arm back in to hug the anchor. I gritted my teeth and cast my arm out again, this time grabbing onto the railing. I shakily stepped off the anchor and collapsed onto the concrete floor, seeing stars.
“Tor, do you read me?” My cold, blue lips croaked. Only the ship’s mechanical heart hummed gently in acknowledgment.
Twenty-Five
I lurched up, coughing and gasping for air. My hand flew to the inside of my jacket, ready to attack. Drawing my Lucent Gun, I pivoted wildly on my heel, losing balance and falling onto my backside with a dull thud. My heart rate slowed as I realized there wasn’t any danger. I took off my glasses and rubbed the water off them. My eyes adjusted to the low light that filtered in below me.
“Rose, Rose! Are you there?” Tracy said frantically.
“Y-yeah, I’m here,” I stammered hoarsely.
“Where are you?” I could hear gun shots in the background. The anchor swung in time with the waves as I realized where I was.
“I’m on the ship.”
“Phew. I thought we had lost you there for a second,” she said in relief. “Have you seen Stan yet?” I stood up, squeezing the water out of my hair.
“No.”
“The Conflicted are beginning to thin out here. The Tormented are still incapacitated,” Agatha said between gunshots.
“Tor hasn’t responded yet?”
“No. We’ve been trying the whole time,” Agatha said. I could detect a hint of worry creeping into her voice.
I closed my eyes and focused on my heart beat. I could feel everyone on the shore. Where was Tor? I furrowed my brow as I searched for him. Wait, there he was! I couldn’t pin point his location but he was definitely there. I relaxed as warmth trickled back into my fingertips. I stood still as my eyes got accustomed to the darkness. There were some steps leading up to a door. I sheathed my weapon and walked up, my footsteps echoing through the anchor room. The door had a wheel in the middle of it. Sizing it up, I grabbed onto it and turned it clockwise. The hinges groaned in protest as the door swung in. I stepped through, closed the door and locked it behind me.
I drew my gun and surveyed my new location. I was in a hall that seemed to stretch endlessly to my left and right. Doors lined the hall at equal intervals. Staircases led up to a new level. I turned around and looked above the door I came through: ‘Anchor Room’. I ventured towards the right, observing the signs along the way.
“‘Kitchen’, ‘Sleeping Quarters’, ‘Parts’…” I mouthed silently. This wasn’t going to work. At this rate, I would just be wandering around aimlessly. I sat down on one of the steps and looked at my gun absent-mindedly. Stan. He was the reason why I was here.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to Cease Stan.
Mortimer had said that Stan was on this ship. He also said that he and Stan were playing ‘hide and seek’ here. I tightened my grip on my weapon and looked up the staircase. I smiled to myself as a simple idea presented itself to me. Searching through every inch of this ship for Stan would be stupid. There was a laughably easy way that I could get Stan and to come to me instead. I stood and walked up the staircase to the next level.
This ship was big. I cursed as I backtracked again for what felt like the twentieth time, going back to the last point where the path had forked off; my hair and clothes had long since dried. I squinted at a map on the wall, placing my finger where I was and traced the path I had to take to get back to the deck. I huffed angrily and stomped down the new path, trying to remember the route that I had traced. How hard could it be to get the attention of a couple of men?
That’s when I heard it: gun shots. I froze and stood up straight, like a meerkat in the middle of the desert on the lookout for predators. It was faint, but I knew what I heard.
“Stan!” I whispered under my breath. It sounded like they were coming from in front and above me. I broke out into a run, letting the sound of murderous intent guide me to where I needed to go.
My boots echoed through the hall as I ran towards the gun fire, my heart working overtime from the sudden surge of adrenaline. It suddenly stopped and so did I. I put my hand on a stair railing and listened. Had Stan shot Tor? Was he about to finish him off? I imagined him standing over him, his Ombre Gun dark and ominous as life flowed out of Tor’s eyes.
Shots from two distinct guns shattered my reverie. If Stan was firing at Tor, Tor was definitely trying to land his own shots as well. I bolted up the stairs and followed my ears, the sound of gun fire growing louder with every step I took. I climbed one more stair case and my boots came into contact with carpet. Right at that moment, the gun fire stopped again.
“Come out and face me like a man!” Stan roared. I ducked and backed against the wall. Stan was on the other side of the wall. He fired his gun haphazardly, glass bouncing off my head as it shattered above me. One of his shots flew through the wall inches to my right. That was too close. I took some deep breaths and tried to relax. What did I do now? If I stood up without warning, he might shoot me on impulse. That couldn’t happen. I needed to talk to him and for that, I needed him to calm down.
I could hear glass crunching as he walked dangerously close to me, still unaware that I was there. I got down on my hands and knees and peeked through the hole he had just shot through and immediately turned back, my heart in my throat. The only thing separating us was the wall he had just shot through. I needed to get away from him. I let my breath out slowly as he slowly stepped away from me. I crawled down the hall, making sure to avoid the glass scattered all over the carpet.
“You say you are a soldier. What sort of soldier runs and hides?” Stan taunted. I clenched my jaw as Dante’s face swam up from the depths of my mind. He would pay for turning my Stan into such a hateful being. I had made it to the end of the hall. I could see the night sky through the window. Finally, the deck! I squatted there and listened, waiting for my opportunity.
“A soldier who has something to live for,” Tor barely finished his response before Stan spun around and fired a round of shots in his direction. In that moment I turned the knob and slipped out the door onto the deck.
If I thought it was windy before, it was nothing compared to now. It was like the ship had trespassed into the domain of Poseidon. Spears of lightning cracked the sky, briefly illuminating the wrathful tempests from which they were cast. The wind screamed and waves hissed as they battered the defenceless ship. Sheets of rain beat mercilessly upon the deck, threatening to split the wood right under my feet.
Within seconds, it was as if I had taken another dip in the ocean. To make matters worse, my plan wouldn’t work. My gun lit up as it reflected a lightning bolt that struck the ocean not too far from our ship. I
moved to the middle of the deck and looked for Tor and Stan. I could see two figures grappling inside. I pointed my gun to the sky and fired. They continued fighting for ascendancy, unaware that I was there. I fired again just as thunder cracked above me, as loud as a thousand cymbals being hit in unison. I dropped my arm helplessly.
At that moment, the ship heaved as a particularly vicious wave crash-tackled the side of the ship. I clung desperately to a railing, waiting for the boat to steady itself. I pulled myself up again and pressed my face into the window, eyes widening as I realized what had happened. Stan and Tor were on the ground. Their guns were at opposite ends of the room. Stan had spotted his gun and started crawling towards it while Tor was just trying to regain footing. Stan slammed his hand down on his weapon triumphantly as it began to slide away. He stood up, walking towards Tor with his gun pointed at him.
No. This couldn’t be happening. I had to shoot him. I drew my Lucent Gun and held it an inch away from the glass. Silas was pointing down at Tor, about to shoot at any moment. I lined up my weapon and pulled the trigger. I reflexively turned my face away as the glass shattered right in front of me, cutting my cheek. I turned back and could see neither Stan nor Tor. Where did they go? I ran back to the door, flung it open and bounded into the room they were dueling in, glass crunching into the carpet. I stared down at the floor, my breath shuddering as I exhaled.
Stan lay face down on the floor, a bullet wound puncturing his back. Tor was nowhere to be seen. I stood up and looked around the room wildly. Where was he? Had he escaped after Stan had shot him? Was he Ceasing right now? I was about to stand up and check when I froze: Stan had already begun to revive himself. My eyes darted around the room. Where was his Ombre Gun? I relaxed when I saw that it had slid to the corner. I holstered my weapon and slowly knelt down.
