by J. N. Chaney
A quick barrage of bullets scattered across one, moving from his waist to his visor, occasionally breaking through. The man collapsed onto his knees, bleeding from the cracks in his armor. If he was still alive, it wouldn’t be for long.
The remaining two fired back at Abigail, pinning her behind the debris.
“Sir, please be advised that Ms. Pryar’s shield is down to 22%,” said Sigmond.
A few more hits and she’d be done. I had to get in there, and fast.
One of the soldiers turned to see me running at him. I fired two shots at his head. The first hit the metal above his visor. The second missed completely.
He returned fire as I neared him, his bullets deflecting off the shield. I couldn’t count how many times, there were so many.
“Shield at 54%.”
I rammed my shoulders into the soldier’s waist, sending us both to the ground. We slid along the wet mud, rolling away from one another.
Another shot of blue plasma came flying from the nearby tower, hitting the dirt a few meters away.
I got on my knees, dripping with mud, when my shield flickered. A bullet had struck me in the leg.
“Shield at 42%.”
I turned to see the other soldier aiming at me. At the same time, the one I’d hit was stirring, beginning to rise from the ground. If I didn’t do something, I’d wind up royally fucked between them.
Abigail rose up from her hiding spot, staring at me.
I reached for my pistol, drawing it at exact moment the soldier fired his rifle. Our bullets deflected off each other’s armor, doing little damage, except to drain my shield.
“Shield at 28%,” the voice said.
Abigail came running, unloading a sudden burst of firepower into the soldier’s back, stifling him, but only for a moment. She must have been out of ammunition, because she tossed the rifle to her side a few meters before she reached him. When she was nearly to us, she leapt off the ground and onto the man’s neck, wrapping her arms and legs around him like a snake constricting its prey.
The soldier struggled with her, swinging and grunting as he tried to throw her off. When she didn’t budge, he went for his rifle, firing beside his helmet in a vain attempt to shoot her.
But she was quick, dodging every time he pulled the trigger. Finally frustrated, the man fell backwards, slamming Abigail into the ground beneath him.
Her shield flickered, briefly, before finally dissolving, which could only mean one thing. She was out of second chances.
I went for the man’s gun, pinning his arm while Abigail kept her arms around his throat. He groaned inside his helmet, struggling to breathe.
“Sh-Shoot him!” demanded Abby, her voice muffled by the man’s shoulders.
I felt for my pistol, but found the holster empty. It was lying behind me on the ground, too far to grab.
The man’s finger was still on the trigger, even though I had it pinned. I’d have to pry it free before I—
“J-Jace!” snapped Abby. “Just use the—the knife!”
“Knife?” I muttered, looking around.
“On his leg!” she wheezed.
I reached for the knife with my knee still on the soldier’s wrist, trying to open the buckle. It wasn’t enough. I needed to get closer. I needed to reach just a bit more.
I shifted my weight, finally managing to open the strap and grab the knife. As I did, the man shoved me, dragging his rifle against the ground, bringing the barrel towards me.
I lunged towards him, digging the blade into his neck as hard as I could. He squeezed the trigger and fired his rifle, trying desperately to bring the barrel up to me.
Abigail grabbed his arm to keep it down, and I took the other, waiting for him to fully bleed out.
I couldn’t see his face, thanks to the helmet, but I could certainly hear him choking.
His strength left his hands a few seconds later, and I managed to get the rifle away just in time to see the other soldier rising to his feet. He had his gun again, aimed directly at me. I had to move fast before—
His visor shattered as multiple shots landed across his head and chest. His arm spasmed, swinging like a lizard’s severed tail, before he finally let go.
I turned to see Freddie standing there, breathing heavily, like he’d just run a 3-kilometer sprint.
The soldier stumbled towards us, taking a wavering step as he reached out with his hand. Freddie stiffened, raising his rifle again, but then paused as the man finally collapsed onto the ground.
I got to my feet, helping Abigail push the corpse off of her. She was covered in blood, more than I’d seen in a while, but she didn’t care to complain.
“Freddie,” I said, looking at him and shaking my head. “You were supposed to stay in the building.”
“You’re welcome, Captain,” he said, smiling.
I smirked. “Sure. Thanks, kid.”
“Are you both okay?” asked Freddie.
“Fine,” said Abigail. She walked a few meters away to get her weapon. “I could use some ammunition if you have any.”
Freddie shook his head. “I only have this.”
“I count six dead,” said Abigail. “There were thirteen when they landed.”
“I count ten dead,” remarked Lucia, her voice coming through the comm. “The dust has settled, but the rain is still thick. There might be three more corpses out there.”
“Or they’re still alive and waiting for us,” said Abigail.
“Corpses, now or later,” replied Lucia. “Corpses all the same.”
I grabbed my pistol off the ground and reloaded the cylinder, a bullet at a time. “We need to find them.”
“We can fan out and search,” said Abigail.
“No,” I said. “We’ll stay together. I want both of you to—”
A sudden gunshot filled the city street, taking me by surprise. I turned to see another soldier, holding a pistol. “Stay where you are!” shouted the soldier. A woman, by the sound of it.
“W-What…?” muttered Freddie, calling my attention.
He was holding his chest as he fell to his knees, a look of surprise in his eyes.
“Frederick!” cried Abigail. She bent and took his shoulders in her arms, cradling him.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” stuttered Freddie. He was shaking, his lips trembling with every word, and his eyes kept darting around.
I took a step closer to him. “Freddie…?”
“I told you to stay where you are!” shouted the soldier.
I took another step. “Are you okay, Fred?”
Another shot, hitting my arm this time. “Shield at 22%.”
“I won’t tell you again, Captain Hughes!”
Abigail looked up at me as she held Freddie in her arms, fear and anger interwoven in her eyes. I could see the grief already rising, preparing her for what might happen.
“Is that Hughes?” asked another voice. It was Brigham, muffled by the helmet, but I knew it well enough to tell.
I turned around to see the old man coming towards us, stopping a meter behind the female soldier. I held my pistol in my hand, ready to fire, when Lucia sent a blast of plasma at the ground directly between us.
“Don’t just stand there!” shouted Lucia.
The female soldier was thrown on her back, while Brigham had managed to avoid the concussion.
I raised my pistol and shot at him, which forced him to take off running, back towards where his ships had landed. I started to run, but paused to see if Abigail and Freddie were okay.
The female soldier was on her knees, her visor completely shattered from the blast. She had pieces of glass inside the helmet, and I could see the blood from the cuts. She groaned, forcing the helmet off of her face and tossing it.
My eyes widened as I realized it was the same woman we’d seen on The Galactic Dawn—Brigham’s assistant, Clark.
She spit into the ground, rubbing her mouth with her sleeve.
Out of the corner of my eye, a figure came sprin
ting into view. It was Abigail, darting at Clark with the speed of an apex predator.
Clark was so busy searching for her rifle that she didn’t see the woman coming, giving Abby the satisfaction of knocking her in the jaw with her elbow. Clark fell and rolled on her side, splashing rainwater.
“Jace!” shouted Abigail, not bothering to look at me. She straddled Clark’s chest, pinning her wrists. “Go after Brigham!”
“But what about you?!” I asked.
Abby let go of Clark’s wrist long enough to punch her in the nose. “I can handle this one!”
I looked back at Freddie, who seemed to have passed out. “Lucia, Dressler, both of you get down here now and look after Freddie,” I ordered. “Bring Billins with you, but hurry.”
“We’re on our way!” said Dressler.
“Godsdammit,” I said, shaking my head as I started running. “I’ll be back soon!”
* * *
“Sir, rescue ships have been deployed and are en route to your location,” said Sigmond.
I leapt across a large puddle in the middle of the street as rain continued falling around me. “Good! Tell the pilots to touch down near Freddie. Have one of them give Abby a med pack!”
“Of course, sir,” said the Cognitive. “Might I make an additional suggestion?”
“As long as you don’t try to convince me to go back, then go right ahead, Siggy.”
“In that case, please disregard the question,” answered Sigmond.
“I thought so,” I said.
“Oh, and one last thing, sir,” said Sigmond.
I wiped the rain from my eyes, flicking it as I continued running. “What’s that, Siggy?”
“Good luck.”
The crater was straight ahead of me, plumes of smoke still rising from its center. This is where the drones had struck, decimating the shuttles and killing half the soldiers. I had to mind my footing as I stepped cautiously over the wreckage, looking for any signs of Brigham’s movement. The largest piece of one of the shuttles, marked with Union letters, lay half-buried in the wet dirt, scratched and worn so much it was nearly unreadable.
I ran along the side of the crater, staying low enough that I could drop beneath the edge if I needed to.
Where would Brigham go with all of his ships destroyed? Was he hoping to call in a rescue, the same way I’d planned for my crew? Or was he just a desperate fool, running for his life because he knew I’d kill him?
Either way, he’d made the right choice. I’d never let him leave this planet. Not alive. Maybe not as a corpse, either.
A bullet slammed into my chest and sent me flying into the crater behind me. I fell three meters, hitting the mud so hard it damaged my shield.
“Shield at 13%.”
A blur of something moved above me, right along the edge of the crater. A black suit of Union armor. “Hughes!” called Brigham in a loud and thunderous voice. “Hughes, is that you down there?”
I scrambled to my feet and slid behind the nearby shuttle—or what was left of it.
“Hughes!” he called again. “Enough hiding. I don’t have the time!”
I cocked the hammer on my pistol. “Then turn yourself in, Marcus!”
“That’s not going to happen,” he answered.
I fired at him, landing a shot on his shoulder. He flailed his arm from the force of it, but was otherwise fine. “That’s fine with me!”
He let out a chuckle. “If you think you can hurt me with that revolver, I’m afraid you’re—”
Another shot, this time to his temple. The bullet knocked him on his ass with a clank so loud it echoed through the crater. “What was that? I couldn’t make out that last part!”
He answered with his weapon, firing wildly from the ground and into the crater. The bullets deflected off the ship, but a few of them went straight through. Apparently, despite surviving a suicidal drone crash, the hull of this shuttle still had its limit. I had to get out of this crater and up to higher ground. Otherwise, Brigham was going to land a few too many of those shots, and then…well, better not to think about that.
Better to run.
Brigham began to stand, so I shot at him to keep him pinned. I hurried to the other side of the crater, shooting again when I was halfway up.
I reached the peak as one of Brigham’s shots missed. I dove behind another piece of debris, finally getting out of the way.
“It’s madness, Captain. What are you thinking by doing all of this? Are you really going to risk everything for the sake of that child?” he asked.
I answered with a bullet, popping up enough to give my best aim, and fired three quick shots, then ducked back down.
That was all six of them, so I popped the cylinder and reloaded.
If I could hit him in the visor, he’d be down for good. I just needed two shots—one to break the screen, another to break his skull. The only problem was the distance between us.
That, and the fact that my shield was almost done.
Thirteen percent was enough for two or three shots, depending on how direct they were. Shit, could I even get to him before it dropped?
“Aren’t you tired, Hughes?” asked Brigham. “Come out here so we can end this!”
I peeked above the wreckage to see him back on his feet. There was nowhere else for me to hide, once I left this spot. If I went out there to fight, it would be the end for one of us.
“You sure that’s what you want, Marcus?” I asked.
I heard his footsteps in the mud as he began to run. He was fast in that suit, more than I thought he would be, which meant I needed to move.
I took a quick, but steady breath.
Here we go.
I exploded out from behind the debris, kicking mud with every step as I dashed towards the edge of the crater.
Brigham shot at me, barely missing as he ran along the opposite side of the crater, matching my speed and direction.
I fired back, and he did the same, both of us finding our mark. I managed to hit him twice in the chest, once in the shoulder, once in the stomach.
He got me twice.
“Shield at 5%.”
It was now or never.
I slid to a full stop, pivoting my foot and I pressed into the mud, then took off in the opposite direction, towards Brigham.
He stopped the moment I did, but rather than run, he planted his feet in the ground and fired.
The first shot missed, but only by a hair.
The second hit the debris to my left side, deflecting off the metal with a loud clank.
The third slammed into my chest, causing my shield to glow and flicker.
“Shield depleted,” said the automated voice.
I rounded the crater’s rim as Brigham squeezed the trigger one more time. I did the same, knowing that it might be my only chance.
The sound of our guns combined into a thunderclap, echoing through the city as though they were a single entity.
My shoulder took his bullet, while his visor took mine, shattering to pieces.
I landed on top of him and we rolled into the crater, every turn causing me pain as my shoulder hit the ground.
Brigham slid off of me when we reached the bottom. He tried to stand, but I was already on him. We grabbed each other’s wrist with our free hands, both of us on our knees, keeping the other’s barrel away from our heads. We fired our pistols in a vain effort to land a hit, but nothing managed to land.
We pulled our triggers, but there was only a click. “You’re out,” I muttered.
“So are you,” said Brigham.
We let go of one another to reload. I slid a single bullet in the cylinder, cocked the hammer back, and swerved around with the barrel on Brigham’s forehead.
I felt his gun press up against me at the exact same time.
We both reached for the other’s gun with our free hand. He snatched my revolver’s cylinder, holding it so I couldn’t fire. I gripped his pistol’s slide and held it back.
My hear
t was pounding as I stared down the barrel of his gun, directly into his twisted, bloodshot eyes. Both our chests heaved from exhaustion as rain slid down our faces. The first to let go would be a dead man, and we both knew it.
Brigham clenched his jaw, spit flying from between his teeth as he breathed. Was he going to back down, now that we had each other in a stalemate? No, not this time. Not if the anger I saw in him was any indication. He might’ve wanted me as a hostage before, but now he meant for me to die.
I stared into his eyes, and he stared back at mine. We stood there, our tensed arms shaking in the rain as we held each other’s weapon.
Brigham’s eyes twitched, and he blinked.
It was the only opening I needed.
I let myself fall, dropping to the ground and pulled my gun with me, snatching it out of his hand. To do it, I had to let go of his slide, allowing him to fire.
Each of us pulled the trigger. He staggered back, and I felt sudden pressure in my chest, followed by numbness, and it took the wind out of me.
I stared up at Brigham, his face obscured by the helmet, too dark to see from this angle. He wavered for a second, holding his head, then fell towards me.
He landed on my chest, crushing me beneath the weight of his armor. Blood dripped from inside his chest piece and onto my face, filling my nose and mouth.
And I could hear him breathing.
Somehow, the bullet had only grazed his cheek, splitting the skin enough to make him bleed, but nothing else. He grunted, quickly reaching his hand around my throat, like he’d found an extra reserve of strength, and pinned me to the mud. “You lose, Hughes,” he muttered, his mouth full of blood.
I struggled to move beneath him, and he raised his pistol to try and hit me. I grabbed his arm as it came down, holding him in place.
“In the end, everything you did was—” he strained. “—for nothing.” He pressed the gun against me with both his hands.
I clenched my teeth, straining to keep him away.
He leaned down so that he was right on top of me, close enough that I could see the tiny scars around his chin. Shards of the visor were barely holding inside the helmet. “Give up, Hughes,” he said, placing more of his weight on the gun. “Let yourself die with some dignity.”
