Colour Coded: The Black Bullet

by Katy Jordan

  “Right. Well, if anything changes, call me and I’ll be right back,” she instructed them, placing a comforting hand on Gecko’s shoulder as she walked away from them and left the infirmary.

  The silence that followed was one that none of them could bear.

  They wanted to talk but didn’t know what to say. They wanted to do something to help but didn’t know where to start.

  They were clueless.

  Rocket stood up suddenly, kicking his chair away with anger, and paced back and forth at the bottom of Jack’s bed.

  “Are you guys going to stay here?” he enquired.

  “Well, I’m not planning on going anywhere. Youth?”

  “No, right now there’s nothing I can do other than try and be here when he wakes up.”

  “Good. I’m going back, then,” Rocket affirmed.

  “What? To the warehouse?” Gecko probed.

  “I can’t leave Tide there by herself. Sparrow’s only there to use his drone to help find Bullet. They’ll need an extra pair of hands,” he explained, and ran out of the room, energy bursting through him from nowhere.

  Rocket fired down the corridor and near enough tumbled down the glass staircase after he had hurdled over the chairs in the conservatory.

  He sprinted across the bottom floor and down the stairs to the garage, trying to process which vehicle would be better to take before he got there.

  He needed one with more than two seats, so the sports car was out of the question, albeit it would have gotten him there faster. The van was low on fuel and he didn’t have time to fill it up.

  He went straight for the Subaru.

  Every one of the vehicles down there had fingerprint controlled locks and the keys in the ignition for racy starts like this one.

  The car sprang to life, and he navigated his way to the garage door, which opened upon his approach. Rocket stamped on the accelerator and flew around the side of the building, heading for the stone riddled route out of the property.

  The Spectrum’s authoritative figure by the fountain was anything but a greeting as the car squealed around the bend towards the driveway to the grounds.

  The Red Rocket’s feet stamped on the break, violently causing the car to skid uncontrollably over the stones as he held his breath, praying to every possible God under the sun that he didn’t hit him. The Spectrum didn’t move.

  He didn’t even flinch.

  Rocket turned the wheel, flinging the car around sideways and clenched his eyes shut. The car came to a halt just inches in front of The Spectrum who was still dressed in his pinstripe suit. His expression was rather empty, like this was an everyday event that he was used to. Rocket let out a breath of relief, resting his forehead on the steering wheel.

  A knock at the window caused him to stir with fright as he turned to The Spectrum looking down at him, his expression very much the same as it had been since he was first able to lay eyes on him after taking the bend at top speed. Rocket hit the button on his right, letting the window lower, feeling the cold air hit the side of his face.

  “Where, might I ask, are you going?”

  Lab, from hearing the commotion, ran out the front doors filled with worry.

  “I’m going back,” Rocket said, trying to be strong-willed.

  “Oh, are you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And who authorised that?”

  No matter what he tried, Rocket couldn’t swallow the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat.

  “I did,” he croaked.

  “Oh, did you, now?” The Spectrum asked, patronisingly.

  Rocket’s entire persona changed.

  He was no longer nervous or worried about what The Spectrum might do.

  Now, he was angry, as the worry for his friends and his girlfriend burst through him rapidly.

  “They’ll need an extra pair of hands, I can’t just leave them there!” he cried. “If Bullet’s in trouble, they’ll need to get her out of there as soon as, and nobody… NOBODY… can drive like I can!”

  The Spectrum merely stared at him.

  He was hunched over to level with him by the car window, his hands clasped behind his back, his demeanour unusually calm.

  “I was thinking exactly the same thing, Rocket,” he admitted. “But, with one difference.”

  Rocket said nothing, waiting on his answer. The look of confusion was plastered very clearly across his face as The Spectrum held his gaze.

  “What difference?” Rocket probed, irritated.

  “That I will be in the passenger seat with you,” he confirmed, still remaining annoyingly calm. “Are you too upset with me for me to join you and complete the mission?”

  There was something about the way he spoke that had Rocket cower, feeling guilty for snapping at his boss. He looked away from him, shaking his head, allowing The Spectrum to travel to the other side of the car.

  “Keep an eye on the boy,” he said to Lab, “we’ll be back soon.”

  “Do you think she’s still alive?” Lab asked, her eyes wide with fear.

  “I hope so. But, either way, we’re bringing her home.”

  The Spectrum got into the car, and Rocket took off before he had even shut the door.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Rocket murmured.

  “Do not ever apologise to me, Rocket,” The Spectrum replied modestly, “we each deal with worry and stress in different ways. This is your way.”

  “What do we do if she’s dead?”

  The Spectrum took time to think about this, as though he hadn’t considered the possibility before now.

  “We pray that Neon is dead as well.”

  “So that we’re not in danger?”

  “No. So, that the Black Bullet didn’t die in vain.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sparrow was holding back as Flare and Tide put out the last of the fire when Rocket and The Spectrum pulled up next to Sparrow’s car. He walked over to meet them, a look of surprise on his face at their arrival.

  “We didn’t know you were coming,” he announced.

  “Neither did we,” The Spectrum replied, slamming the door shut and walking around the car to stand beside him. The smoke from the defused fire billowed up into the night sky, the pungent smell intruding into their sinuses. Some of the wood was still smouldering as they approached the fallen warehouse, the metal slates from the roof half-melted and scorched.

  “How bad was it?” Rocket asked.

  “It went up like a bonfire,” Flare shouted, “but, I made sure it was contained to only the warehouse. The bunker wouldn’t have been touched.”

  “So, how do we do this?” Sparrow enquired.

  “You’ll need to charge up your drone again, we’re going to need it. Clearing the debris from the entrance of the bunker is our best bet, and then we fly the drone in to make sure it’s clear,” Flare suggested.

  “Do that. I’m going to stay in the car and listen to the radio; we need to be out of the area before emergency services arrive,” The Spectrum instructed, walking back to Rocket’s car.

  “This may be out in the middle of nowhere, but we don’t know how many passers-by there were, or if property holders nearby smelt the fumes projected from the flames. Get to it, folks.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rocket said.

  Sparrow went to an area at the side that was clear of debris, setting his drone down and preparing to charge it.

  “Tide, you have the blueprints?” Flare asked.

  “Right here,” she said, pulling a folded bit of paper from the pocket of her blue jacket. She unfolded it while Rocket and Flare looked over her shoulder and observed the detailed floor plan of Neon’s now destroyed headquarters.

  “So, we’re standing roughly here…” said Tide, pointing to an area on the blueprint. “And the bunker entrance was there.”

  “How long was the warehouse front to back?” Rocket asked.

  “About one hundred and eighty yards, give or take. The main hall, or working area, w
as at the back near enough, the door to get to the bunker was there… so about halfway down,” Tide said, looking up at the wreckage. “Is it safe to start rummaging yet?”

  “I’ll get the safety gloves and masks from the car, but maybe give it another five or ten minutes,” she said, leaving them and heading to Sparrow’s car.

  “Okay, so where in this shit heap do we start looking?” Rocket asked Tide.

  “Well, looking in from the front, the bunker entrance was over on the right-hand side. There’s a bit of wall there that’s still standing, so I’d suggest walking about eighty feet past that and then start sifting through the rubble,” she replied.

  Flare returned with four pairs of thick gloves and masks.

  “I need to wear a welder’s helmet?” Tide asked reluctantly.

  “It’s actually a visor that firefighters wear. There might still be smouldering materials buried underneath, and if metal rubs against metal, sparks will fly. It can blind you.”

  “And now I’m convinced,” Tide said, taking a mask and forcing the strap over her forehead.

  Flare and Rocket joined in and, after putting their gloves on, approached the burnt out mess of Neon’s lair. A spare mask and gloves were left in case Sparrow found time to join them in the search.

  Carefully, they clambered through the scorched heap and made their way to the chosen area. Cautiously pulling back wood, metal, wires and the like, they began sifting through the debris looking for the edge of the stairs down to the bunker.

  Sparks burst once or twice, causing everyone to jump and be on alert.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” The Spectrum shouted from the edge of the building perimeter. “You have approximately forty-five minutes! Emergency services were called!”

  “Shit!” Flare exclaimed, losing all cautiousness she had and started flinging everything back behind her. They all became careless.

  Bullet was the main priority.

  As well as their anonymity.

  “I’ve got something!” Tide cried out, her head ducked deep within the rubble. “It’s definitely the start of a large hole, but it’s filled with debris!”

  “I brought my toolbox, can we just smash through it?” Rocket asked Flare.

  “And if Bullet’s right on the other side of it, do you really want to take that chance?” Flare stabbed. “We need to do it by hand.”

  “That could take hours!” Tide exclaimed.

  “You saw the footage, there were about eight steps down to the passageway and it was an extensively long tunnel; the whole corridor won’t be filled. I’ll dig through, but I think we’ll need rope,” Flare offered.

  “I’ll check the boot of my car. I’ll bring my toolbox as well,” Rocket said, frantically wading his way through the debris and pelting down to the car.

  “Drone’s charged!” Sparrow announced.

  “Just on time!” Flare yelled back. “Bring it over!”

  Sparrow and Rocket met in the middle and ran into the wreckage together.

  Flare took the rope from Rocket as he plonked his toolbox down to one side while Sparrow set up his drone.

  “How long is it?” she asked.

  “No idea,” he admitted, “does it matter?”

  “I guess we don’t have a choice now. Come here,” she gestured.

  Rocket went over beside her and Flare tied the rope around his waist before tying the other end around her own. She began pulling out poles, joists, and other damaged components of the warehouse, carefully making her way down one step at a time.

  “You okay?” Rocket asked, staying firmly on the spot at the top of the stairs.

  “Yeah… I count six steps so far. Start the drone,” she replied.

  Sparrow’s drone sprung to life and he lifted it from the ground, leaving it to hover above the small route through the rubble that Flare had made.

  “Ready when you are!” Sparrow shouted.

  “Okay, bring it down!” she yelled, her voice echoing out of the tunnel. Sparrow lowered the drone down the stairwell carefully, keeping out of the way of any debris still down there. Flare’s face came into view, and she ducked down to let it pass over her.

  “Do you not have lights on this thing?” Tide asked, looking over Sparrow’s shoulder at his tablet screen.

  “Yeah, yeah, I do,” he said, loading a menu and hitting a symbol.

  Light projected from the tunnel as soon as he hit the button.

  Having made his way past the debris, the tunnel was free and clear, all the torches burnt out, and Sparrow flew the drone along as fast as he could make it go.

  Within seconds, he made it to the door into Neon’s office, which was thankfully ajar. The reflection from the light bouncing off of Bullet’s leather jacket was the first thing to catch his attention, and he navigated over to it.

  Bullet lay unconscious and extremely still.

  “Anything???” Flare screeched from the tunnel, worry beginning to get the better of her.

  Normally, no news was good news; but this situation was different, and Flare hated every second of it.

  “Yeah, we found her, but…” Sparrow trailed off.

  “But, what??” she cried. “Does she have burn injuries? Where is she?”

  “She doesn’t seem to…” Sparrow said.

  “Zoom in on her chest,” Rocket suggested.

  Sparrow was visibly shaking with nerves at the concept of them being too late as well as them running out of time.

  Missions were always tough, but being against the clock messed with him.

  “Flare! Flare, she’s still breathing, but barely! Go! Go! Go!” Rocket yelled as he made his way down behind her.

  She was merely a few feet in front of him as they both sprinted down the dark tunnel, only the lights from their masks illuminating the path a couple of feet in front of them while the rope that bound them was tumbling along at their backs. They burst through the door to Bullet’s body lying on the trap door, a pool of blood on the floor around her right thigh.

  “Bullet!” Flare cried. “Honey, can you hear me? It’s Flare,” she shouted, slapping the side of her face. “Bullet? Come on, babe… please!”

  Flare gave herself a shake to focus and began doing a secondary examination of Bullet’s body.

  “No head trauma… arms are good… neck and spine are intact… no internal damage. Rocket, get her out of here.”

  He need not reply to Flare and the tears rolling down both cheeks as he lifted his friend over his shoulder and quickly walked out with her, Flare right at his back.

  They travelled back along the passageway, following the lights from Sparrow’s drone as he brought out his device.

  Tide was halfway down the stairs, ready to help them squeeze Bullet out of the narrow entry Flare dug to gain access.

  “Grab her feet and twist her around,” Rocket said to Tide, who immediately crossed her hands over and took Bullet by the ankles. Rocket carefully slid her over his shoulder and held her under her arms at the bend of his elbows.

  Carefully, they shuffled out with her and began making their way through the debris for the last time, with Sparrow guiding them as Tide walked backwards.

  “You guys go, I’ll catch up!” Flare said.

  “What’re you doing? We have to go!” Tide yelled.

  Flare took something out of her pocket and watched them make their way back to the car, waiting for them to be well clear of the property before taking the pin out of the grenade and throwing it into the tunnel. She could have competed in an Olympic hurdling event the way she removed herself from the remnants of Prismatic headquarters. The explosion rumbled through the ground, bursting out of the bunker entrance, throwing rubble and dirt everywhere. Flare ducked her head down and kept running.

  She knew she didn’t have to do that, but in case Neon was alive, she wanted to make sure that he definitely didn’t have an escape route.

  When she reached them, The Spectrum was out of the car.

  “There’s nothin
g left behind that could be traced back to us?”

  “No, nothing,” Flare replied, panting.

  “We need to get Bullet back to Lab for treatment. Flare, you’re with Sparrow and me, Bullet’s already in Rocket’s car with him and Tide, let’s move!” he ordered.

  They all poured into their designated vehicles and sped off down the street. There was no way in hell Sparrow was going to manage to catch up with Rocket as he took off way ahead in front of them, especially when it came to the winding roads through the Cairngorms on the approach to Colour Coded HQ.

  In Rocket’s car, Tide sat in the back with Bullet who was sprawled out across the seats with her head on Tide’s lap.

  “Bullet? Come on, please. Wake up!” she said, patting the sides of her face with a gentle force.

  Both Tide and Bullet’s faces were covered with soot from the fire; although for completely different reasons. As much as Tide’s skin was blackened from putting out the fire, Bullet’s face was much more black from being stuck in there for so long.

  She should’ve got that fire out quicker.

  “Here,” Rocket said as he squirmed around behind the steering wheel, “take my belt. Strap it around her leg; try and stop the blood.”

  Tide slid the belt through Rocket’s fingers and wrapped it around Bullet’s thigh just above her wound, yanking it as tight as she could make it go.

  “You’re going to be fine, do you hear me? Absolutely fine. No other option is good enough, Bullet,” Tide yammered quietly as she fiddled with the belt buckle.

  “Try giving her some water,” Rocket suggested.

  There was a couple of bottles of spare water tucked into the pouch on the back of the passenger seat. Tide leaned over Bullet and flicked it out, fumbling around in a frenzy to unscrew the cap while being jostled around from Rocket’s frantic driving.

  Carefully, she tipped it into Bullet’s mouth, forcing her head forward so that she didn’t choke. A lot of it dribbled out the sides of her mouth and on to the seats.

  “It’s not working,” she sobbed.

  “Is she still breathing? Hold the back of your hand to her nose,” Rocket said, trying to watch her in the mirror as much as he could while keeping an eye on the road.