Ida wondered what had triggered the man’s outburst. If Gatz’s secret was about her, he wouldn’t have reacted that way. Maybe it was something else. He hadn’t tried to sell her out. One credibility point to Gatz, she thought.
The smoking man piped up. “How are they getting it to the soldiers?”
Gatz said, “I’m not certain. Perhaps it’s happening through medicine or food.”
Confused, Ida turned and put her back against the wall, still listening. Why were they talking about soldiers?
“I have a very reliable source on the inside,” said Gatz. “I also know a former soldier that we could monitor, test, try to find some evidence.”
“And who’s going to do anything about it, even if you find evidence?” said smoking man.
Scarred man said, “He’s right. Nobody in the city council will stand up to Vance. And there’s not a judge within 500 miles who would rule against him. They’d be assassinated within 24 hours is my guess.”
Gatz tapped his fingers on the table. “We need to do something. Take Vance out somehow. Like we talked about in the beginning.”
Both men silently nodded at this point.
It was then Ida saw a glint of metal at the far side of the room. A tall, chrome android in the shape of a human soldier carried an automatic rifle.
Then all hell broke loose.
Suddenly, three large canisters of gas were shot into the room with loud pops. Glass shattered from above and sprayed the room.
At least five drones descended. They were smaller, faster models equipped with guns. The robots had been built for hostage negotiations because they were able to fly and get into buildings via small passages such as air ducts.
Several tall warrior robots appeared at the entrance to the large room, guns extended. Although a cloud of smoke had filled the air, they entered the room, oblivious to the noxious gas. They moved their heads from side to side, weapons at the ready. And they meant business.
Behind her in the kitchen, Ida heard a thump at the door she had used to sneak inside. She had locked it behind her in case anyone tried to follow her inside, a remnant of her old soldier defensive moves.
There was a broken window that overlooked a small beach path. She could easily have made her escape and dealt with a few police outside. They weren’t expecting her, and she thought she might have a decent chance of getting away.
But Gatz. She’d come here to be his bodyguard, after all. Should she leave him?
He was a hybrid. Would his death even matter?
She drew the pistol and opened the door slightly to survey the scene in the main room. The situation looked grim. She’d been in enough dangerous situations to know they were outnumbered and didn’t have the matching firepower.
It was hard to see, but she could tell Gatz and the four men outside had overturned the table and sat huddled behind it. They were coughing and wheezing at the gas. They had maybe thirty seconds before they passed out, if they were lucky.
Ida knelt and carefully placed her gun on the floor while she drew her black scarf over her mouth and nose, securing it with a quick knot.
She edged the door out a few inches again and scanned quickly: front, left, right. How the hell to get out of this? And then she saw it. Just around the corner from the kitchen door, in the main room, was a stairway that led downstairs. Basement? Ida wondered. Whatever was down there, it was their only shot.
She took Edwards’ gun, a semiautomatic rifle that would provide more cover than her pistol. She stuffed the pistol into the back of her pants. Armed with the semi in her right hand and a giant cast-iron frying pan she’d found in the kitchen, she took a running leap out of the kitchen.
Did androids feel surprise? She hoped so. The robots had been walking the perimeter of the room believing the humans and hybrid panda were the only targets.
With her forceful entrance, Ida nearly ran into one of the tall androids. She greeted him with the enormous cast-iron pan and knocked his head off. The robot body stumbled backward a few steps and fell. Its dented head had rolled to a far corner of the room.
She fired several rounds through the smoke at the other robots. Then she slid behind the large table with Gatz and the men.
Gatz clapped her on the back and said, “Nice of you to join us. Gentlemen, my bodyguard.”
Scarred man looked at her in surprise.
“There’s a stairway leading down just behind us.” She handed Gatz the pistol. “Head down, I’ll cover you.”
They stared at her a few seconds, eyes watering and coughing from the gas.
“Now!” She half-pushed, half-kicked the smoking man toward the stairs. The others moved toward their exit, except for Gatz, who stayed by her.
The smoke from the tear gas was starting to clear slightly as a breeze whipped through from the broken windows. They could see at least six droids in the room. They heard one say, “Warning. This is Spark City Police. Put your weapons down, you are under arrest.”
As if to punctuate the warning, they started firing at Gatz and Ida.
“You have ten seconds to drop your weapons, or we will fire.”
“Guess the wiring is off,” said Gatz, who raised his gun and fired a few rounds in return.
“On my command, we run back to the stairs,” Ida barked.
Gatz nodded. They heard a countdown start, “Ten, nine, eight…”
The pair ducked as more shots were fired. The countdown voice was closer this time, “…Seven, six…” Ida didn’t want to find out what happened once they really started shooting.
Ida edged to the side of the table and fired off a round. She had tried to locate the countdown robot, but it continued, “Five, four…”
“Now!” She tugged at Gatz to run for the stairs. Ida stood and fired a round as she backed quickly to the stairs. Gatz had cleared the space and was already down the stairs. Ida made it to the edge of the stairs when she felt a sharp, searing sting on her upper left arm. She flew down the stairs to the waiting Gatz and the men below.
She fell to her knees. “What’s down here?”
Smoking man said, “It’s a basement. Long tunnels. We should head north toward the city center.”
“Let’s go,” Ida said, and started to get up.
Gatz asked if she was okay. He pointed at her jacket, torn at the shoulder where she’d been hit by a bullet.
“I’m fine,” Ida said. She didn’t want to admit it hurt like hell. “We need to move.”
Suddenly a grenade bounced down the stairs. Gatz shouted, “Run!!”
They made it thirty feet before the explosion rocked them off their feet. When the dust settled and they could stand, they realized scarred man’s bodyguard had been hit with shrapnel. He had a large wound in his leg and was in agony.
Ida squatted down beside him and started taking off her gloves.
Scarred man looked worried. “How bad is it?” he asked.
Ida looked at his leg closely. “He’ll bleed out soon if we don’t help him.”
As Ida placed her bare hands on his leg, scarred man handed the ailing man a grenade. “Tom, you’ll use this when the time comes,” he said to the dying man.
Ida looked up at scarred man, confused. “No, I can help him.”
Gatz touched her uninjured shoulder. “There’s no time. We have to go now.”
They could hear movement from above as the police droids started their descent into the basement.
Ida felt stuck and helpless. She had the power to save the man, but she would risk the lives of others, and her own. “This isn’t right.”
“Now!” yelled Gatz, and pulled her up with surprising strength.
With no time to argue, Ida ran with Gatz and the men. They ran north, leaving the police battle scene behind. As the abandoned bodyguard’s bomb detonated, the explosion rocked the underground, but they were out of danger this time.
Ida stopped to catch her breath and said a silent apology to the man who died.
Ch
apter 18
“What the hell was that?” asked Ida after downing several large dregs from a whiskey bottle at Dox. Upon arriving, she had immediately gone to the bar and helped herself to the bottle.
Gatz came out of his office carrying a small black box. They were alone. It was after hours, and he had ushered out a bartender who stayed behind on clean-up duty.
“Will the bartender say anything about this?” asked Ida as Gatz wiped her blood from the floor. She had been bleeding steadily from her gunshot wound as they traversed the underground tunnels, finally emerging and making their way back to the city.
“He’s one of my best guys. I trust him.”
“How far do you trust him?” She took another swig. “I trust no one.”
Gatz smirked. “That explains a lot about your social life. Sit here.” He motioned for her to sit on a bar stool he had pulled out.
Ida hesitated, eying the medical kit he had produced from behind the bar. Gatz rifled through it, pulling out gauze, needle, thread, antiseptic, and a pair of tweezers.
“You won’t need those,” said Ida.
Gatz stared at her. He raised his shoulders and shrugged, waiting for her to explain.
“The tweezers. You won’t need those.” Another swig.
Gatz realized he was going to need to restock his whiskey now that Ida had entered his life. “And why is that?”
She sighed, “For some reason, when bullets or other metal enters me, it doesn’t come out.” It was Ida’s turn to shrug. “Don’t know why.” She held the bottle and pointed at her body, adopting a louder voice as the alcohol hit her system. “I’ve been shot before, trust me. I was in a war, you know.”
She was gulping the whiskey down fast, and he noticed she was starting to slur her words. He threw the tweezers back in the box and snapped it shut. “I’ll take your word for it.” He spread the other materials on the bar across a towel he had laid out. “Can you please remove your jacket?”
Feeling the effects of the booze, Ida eyed him sideways. “Why are you helping me?”
“I have a financial interest in you,” said Gatz. He picked up the antiseptic, and Ida knocked it out of his hand onto the floor. She started to pull herself off the stool, had difficulty balancing, and sat again with a thud onto the chair.
“Easy, racehorse,” said Gatz, holding her non-injured arm to steady her. Her head rolled back slightly, she looked at him cross-eyed, and then she blacked out.
Ida felt the metal blade sink into her belly. The Heavy she was fighting had tricked her. One of its arms slipped around and under, lodging the blade in her stomach.
She staggered back with a look of surprise. This was certain death. As she bled, the creature took another step toward her. She didn’t resist. The Heavy scraped her blood from the ground and marked a red X on her forehead before it moved on to fight other soldiers.
Ida walked slowly, dazed, and saw other bodies. Fellow soldiers lay crumpled at her feet. Her blood landed as droplets and splatters on them as she staggered forward, holding her belly.
Finally, she fell to the ground. Gripping the blade’s handle, she pulled. “Must get it out,” she thought, but she could not maintain a grip. She faded into blackness.
So this was it. The end. Ida felt relief.
She heard a rumbling and wondered if she was entering the afterlife.
Above, a bright beam of light shone down from a hovercraft. Soldiers on either side hung out of the open doors and shot at the Heavies.
The light found her. She managed to open her heavy eyelids. A rope was lowered, followed by a man who grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into the aircraft.
Her rescuer tried to pull out the blade, but it wouldn’t budge. Next to them, a young man lay unconscious. Ida learned that he’d been shot by friendly fire. The rescuer shook his head with concern and kept pulling on the blade.
Ida placed her right hand on the unconscious man’s forehead. Her eyes closed. She felt a warmth emanate from his body; it flowed into hers. She felt it from head to toe. Never had the feeling been this intense.
Suddenly, the sensation was gone. Her rescuer medic, still gripping the blade handle, fell back suddenly. Ida opened her eyes.
The man held the alien knife in his hands. It was broken. He had half the knife in his hand, from the hilt up. The blade remained in Ida.
He threw the knife aside and looked at Ida’s wound. The skin was covered over. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw there was no entry wound.
Beside her, the young man was dead.
Ida woke on a long table in a dim room. She jolted awake, her entire body convulsing as reality hit her. She turned to one side, gasping for air. Disoriented, she felt the edge of the table beneath her.
Then she saw Gatz a few feet away. He sat in his office chair, which he’d pulled out from his office. He appeared to have just woken, likely startled by her.
The dream had shaken her. She felt her stomach, where the blade had gone in years ago. She wondered whether it was still there, alien metal lying dormant in her body.
He came to her side. “Ida, are you okay?”
Still on her side, she reached for her shoulder and felt the bandages. “How bad was it?”
“Bad for most people, but not you.” He inspected the bandage. “So you can heal others, stop people from dying, and you’re invincible? How is that possible?”
She rolled off the table and mostly kept her balance this time. “I’m not invincible.”
Gatz held out his arm, which Ida begrudgingly took to help her stand straight. She felt stiff. She figured that’s what she got for passing out on a table with a crazy panda hybrid operating on her.
“How does it work?” asked Gatz.
She stood straighter and seemed to regain some strength. “No. I get to ask the questions from here on out. What exactly did you get me into tonight? I got shot trying to save your ass and a bunch of hoodlums.”
“Those are business associates. We trade information.” He turned from her and wheeled his chair back into his office. “Besides, I don’t owe you any answers.” His voice trailed off as he went into the office.
Alone, Ida placed her arms on the table. She rolled her head from side to side, then walked behind the bar, where there was a mirror.
She looked like hell—tired and beaten up from blood loss and traversing the long distance through underground tunnels that led the group to their escape.
Then there was the man who had died when she could have saved him. She closed her eyes in pain when she remembered the man in the kitchen whom she’d tranquilized. He was likely dead too once the droids found him. Now she had two more deaths to add to her list.
Gatz had wrapped her shoulder in a tight bandage. She started to pull it off, but her hand was slapped away by Gatz, who had snuck up behind her.
She glared at him.
He crossed his arms. “I don’t owe you any answers after you abandoned me. If I recall, you also knocked me down and kicked me. I try to give you a job, and that’s the thanks I get. I might as well have been mugged.”
Ida couldn’t hide a tiny smile at the memory of knocking Gatz down. “You were leading me into a trap. I should have left you.”
“What happened to you? Huh?” Gatz had finished packing up the medicine kit, and placed it on the bar. “What made you so mad at the world? Haven’t you ever had to ask anyone for help?”
She brought her hand up and studied her nails, trying her best to look nonchalant. “Nope. I take care of myself.”
“Uh-huh,” said Gatz. “I have no doubt. Let’s play a game. I tell you something—the truth—and then I get to ask you something.”
She lifted her head. “Questions and answers? Or is this truth or dare?”
“No dares. Straight truth.”
She studied her nails again and hopped up to take a seat at the bar. “Fine,” she muttered. “But I go first.”
Gatz nodded and folded his arms across his chest, w
aiting for her question.
“What was your piece of information that you told those men?”
Gatz nodded again. “Very well. I told them I believe the mayor and his people are poisoning or programming returning soldiers to go berserk.”
Ida’s eyes went wide. “How? Why would he do that?”
“You get one question and answer at a time. My turn.”
Her gloved hands curled into fists, and between clenched teeth she asked, “How do you know this?”
Gatz held up his hands. “Okay, your turn again. I have a wide network. In this city, information is like gold. A source told me.”
She hopped off the bar and started pacing. “Hold on. You didn’t really answer.”
“I can’t reveal my source.”
She went and stood in front of him, looking at him with fierce eyes. “What did your source say exactly?”
Gatz crossed his arms again. “Fair enough. My source said something about how the returning soldiers are discharged. Some are selected for some kind of experiment run by Vance’s office. It’s very secretive.”
“And? Any other details you care to share?”
“My source didn’t have many details, just that it might be poison.”
Ida paced again, biting her nails. “What? How?”
“Do you get a supply of food or rations from the government?”
She made a circuit of the room as she considered. “No. I order my own protein packs, and other than that, go out for food.”
“What about other soldiers like you? Might they get food supplies shipped?”
“No. I’ve been in touch with another soldier in a different city. He didn’t mention anything like that. But I don’t know anyone else here in Spark City.”
Gatz paused, watching her pace. “If we’re going to get to the bottom of this, it’s time for you to make some friends.”
Chapter 19
Lucy walked along the path from her apartment to Ida’s house the next day. The morning mist that often rolled in from the lake was still winding its way among the grass and between tall trees. She inhaled deeply. This was her favorite time of day, before the city came to life. She felt free in these early morning moments.
Brink (Spark City Book 1) Page 9
