by K. F. Breene
“That stuff doesn’t make it hurt any less,” Dagger growled. “I got cheated.”
“You look tougher when you suck it up, short stack.” Gunner slapped the other man on the back.
Dagger gritted his teeth and tilted his head slowly. Fire danced in his eyes. “You’ll live to regret that.”
“That’s the plan. Let’s go. The princess is getting agitated. Something about her machine not living up to expectations and putting us all in jeopardy.” Gunner took his daughter back from a scowling Millicent and kissed the little girl’s head. “All right, sweet pea?”
“No, Daddy. That was scary.”
“We’re almost there, baby. Almost there.” Gunner hugged her. “I’ll carry you for now, okay?”
“Touch Daddy’s back, Marie, he likes that,” Dagger called.
“Don’t listen to Curve huggers, honey, they speak nonsense.”
“What about Puda?” Danissa asked, staying by his side. She couldn’t leave him. Not after all they’d been through together.
“Don’t you worry, pretty lady. I got him.” Dagger bent.
“I got it, bro-yo.” One of the other staffers put his hand on Dagger’s shoulder and took his place. “We don’t need you passing out from the pain.”
Dagger shot a glance back at Danissa before stepping away. “He’ll be in good hands with Sinner, all right?”
She nodded meekly, her brain still trying to shut down. Her emotions threatening to take over.
After a while, Dagger said, “I thought Danissa was supposed to be just as . . . precise as our Foster?” Danissa heard the lightness in his voice. The teasing.
Was he trying to lift her spirits? While in the middle of a battle zone with death hiding over every pile of debris?
“Precise . . .” Millicent squinted at him. “Is that your way of saying uptight?”
“Yes it is, ma’am. It sure is, you caught me.” Dagger put his hand on his heart. “Danissa seems downright pleasant, though.”
He was trying to lift her spirits while in the middle of hell. Danger apparently had no effect on the man.
Millicent minutely shook her head, working at her device again. “She’s in shock.” Her hands lowered and her head came up. She motioned everyone forward. “Wait until she’s back in her element. You won’t be able to stand her.”
Danissa could hear the others laugh but couldn’t understand the sentiment in her state of numbness. She just wanted to get free and see to Puda. That was all.
“Did they put those bombs everywhere?” someone asked.
“Yes,” Danissa answered automatically. “Best to stay in well-traversed areas. Don’t step on debris. Don’t go too far off the path.”
“We got lucky, then,” someone muttered.
“Very,” someone else answered.
“A lot of people have already died by those bombs,” she said in a monotone. “The bodies were cleaned up . . . by someone. I don’t know who. Or why. But quite a few people, mostly staffers, have tripped those bombs.”
“Are there bombs in the Moxidone buildings?” Millicent asked. Her voice barely carried over the swish of fabric and the heavy tread of the injured.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in a Moxidone building. I mean . . . you know . . . since all this started. The conglomerates are largely working together but are still mostly separated as far as the staffers go.”
Millicent didn’t respond, or if she did, it wasn’t loud enough for Danissa to hear. While normally Danissa would want all available information to make a sound judgment on the happenings of the world around her, at that moment, she was thankful for the silence.
“I’ll go first,” Gunner said as they reached the stairwell. He stood the little girl next to Millicent.
“How many floors up?” Millicent asked, stepping out of his way, but not so far as to touch the remains of a crumbled work pod behind her.
“Five. I hadn’t realized we’d be down this low when I set up the rendezvous.” He opened the door quickly before stepping through with his gun pointed. A moment later he backed out. “Going down would’ve been easier than walking up.”
“Astute,” Millicent said.
“I’m a master of strategy, cupcake. Take a lesson.”
Someone huffed out another gruff laugh. And then people were moving, taking a cue from some unspoken signal. Two men pushed past Gunner and into the stairwell, taking up position with their guns. Gunner guided Millicent in next and lifted his daughter.
“Your turn, pretty lady,” Dagger said, holding his arm out behind Danissa and walking by her side, corralling her into the stairwell. She couldn’t tell if he thought she was fragile, or unhinged enough to sprint away in an attempt to find a bomb and end her suffering.
“Stop calling me pretty lady,” she said as she filed into the stairwell. She’d rather seem like an asshole than a weakling. Maybe it would even help her get through this.
“Will do, Miss Lady.”
Her breath came in fast pants as they raced up the stairs, practically running. With each floor, they hesitated to check the way ahead. Before they started forward again, the man at the back would pass up some sort of hand sign that she eventually realized was all clear.
When they reached the intended floor, they stood against the wall and looked up as the two leads braced themselves by the door to the landing.
“I see a few robots meandering in the open space,” Millicent whispered as she stared down at her wrist. “There are a great many hovering around the elevators—on all the floors, not just this one. If we stay away from the elevators, and don’t make too much noise, we should be okay. In theory.”
“How can they get in the elevators?” someone asked in a hush.
“I have no idea,” Millicent said with a furrowed brow. She looked at Gunner. “There must be someone or something on the premises that can reach the button. Or that can hack into the building loop, but I’ve seen no indication of that.”
“Let’s talk about it later.” Gunner looked at the stairwell door. “How’s that device of yours working?”
“I cleaned the sensors again. Hopefully it’ll work fine. Worse case, you’ll get more target practice.”
“I love that you’re always thinking of me.” Gunner’s grin didn’t reach his eyes. “Use your silencers, everyone. Take note that it will cut the power of your gun in half.”
“Just gotta use a bigger gun, then,” Dagger said, taking a small metal circle out of his utility belt. He affixed it to the side of his gun barrel.
“I thought silencers went on the end,” Danissa said in confusion.
Dagger winked at her. “We got the best weapons maker in the world on our side. In two worlds, actually. That woman up there is a superhero.”
“What’s a superhero?”
“Like . . . the flying guy who wears tights and a cape.”
“Sounds like a tart,” someone muttered.
“Let’s go,” Gunner said, putting the child down next to Millicent before jogging up the stairs.
Millicent followed, slower now that Marie clung to her.
“Here.” Danissa reached out her hand. “I’ll stick with her. I don’t even have a gun.”
“Then get a gun,” Millicent said.
“Why? So I can shoot someone’s toe off as I fumble? I’m not as skilled as you with weapons—”
“Yet—”
“—so I’d be better off taking the child.”
“Her name is Marie.”
“Whatever,” Danissa said, unable to help her snotty tone. Despite everything that had changed, their long-standing rivalry had invaded the conversation.
Millicent hesitated for a moment before taking the few steps that separated her from Danissa. “Stay with her, Marie. Stay within the circle of security.”
“Okay,” the little girl said in a tiny, fear-filled voice. Why they’d brought a young child with them to battle, Danissa had no idea. It was ludicrous.
Together, the
y reached the door to the landing, where Gunner stood waiting. As Millicent jogged through, he stepped forward suddenly so his size bore down on Danissa.
“That is my daughter you’re watching, Danissa Lance.”
His rough tone and the glint of menace in his eyes sent dread creeping down her spine. “I’ve got her.”
He stared for a moment longer before taking Danissa by the arm.
“Deadener is active,” Millicent whispered when they met just off to the side.
“Then let’s get to the craft as quickly and quietly as possible.” Gunner ushered Danissa through the door and waited for the others to exit the stairs.
A moment later, Dagger was by her side, hurrying her through the quiet floor. “Let’s go, Miss Lady. I’ve got your back. You just keep that little girl safe, and we’ll get out of here without a hassle.”
Two by two, they jogged across the empty floor. Blank screens stared at them as they passed, haunting in the scant illumination from the light globes a few of the men held. Vacated work pods stood silent, some crumbled from a bomb that had exploded. Broken glass littered the aisles.
“Here we go,” Dagger said, motioning for Danissa to veer left.
Up ahead, hazy gray light drifted in through the windows, most of which were intact. Those that weren’t, however, let in the harmful rain at a slant to pound the thin carpet and the cracked cement tiles.
The men made a straight line to one of the broken windows. A moment later, the sound of a craft vibrated through the floor.
“What are we doing?” Danissa asked through the sudden noise. She glanced behind her. Movement caught her eye a ways back. The robots would hear the racket and come to investigate.
“We’re making our getaway.” Gunner jogged toward the window. He bent to look through the jagged hole in the glass, and then thrust out his arm. He extended a metal pole, an inch thick, from his sleeve and used it to bash out the remaining glass.
“But why not use a door?” Danissa glanced up at the glowing exit sign. “There are a bunch of landing bays on this side of the building . . .”
“Don’t question him,” Millicent said as she took Marie. “His logic never makes any sense. You’ll just get annoyed.”
“Doors are anticipated.” Gunner reached through the window and motioned the craft closer. He watched the base before holding up a fist to stop its progress. The craft’s doors slid open and a platform extended out.
“We got company,” someone shouted.
“But big windows work just as well. Let’s get you girls in.” Gunner waved her forward. “There is no way they can anticipate all the bays. Or back doors. Or . . . hell, a freight bay would work, and some of them are pretty well hidden.”
“Like I said, you’ll just get annoyed.” With a small smile, Millicent guided Marie onto the thin platform. “Best not to look down,” she hollered as she lithely ran across after her daughter. It was obvious she’d made dozens of those kinds of crossings.
“Send the rope, Millie,” Gunner said.
“That device is faltering,” someone called. “Them damn critters are advancing on us.”
“Shoot ’em, bro-yo!” Dagger yelled. No sound came when he pulled the trigger, but it took four bullets to down the first spider. “Damn it all.” He stripped off the silencer and stuffed it back into his utility belt. “More power!”
The rest did the same and opened fire.
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Gunner yelled.
Danissa felt a hand grab her and yank her toward the door.
“What about Puda?” she yelled as a rope was secured around her middle.
“We’ll get him. Start walking. If you fall, the rope will catch you. Go!” Gunner didn’t shove her, but he didn’t have to. Something about the man’s various looks got the job done just fine. Before she could argue, she was walking onto a thin platform forty-something floors above ground level, in biting rain and freezing temperatures. Her balance wavered. Her foot slipped. She teetered seconds before hands grabbed her. Millicent pulled her into the safety of the craft.
“You got it. Harden up, Lance. We have a ways to go.” Millicent patted her on the shoulder, readied the rope again, and swung it across.
“How are you so good at all of this?” Danissa asked, out of breath. Fear crusted her voice, and she’d bet her face was bleach white. She’d never been in a situation like this in her life. Until today, the guards had always been there to protect her.
“I had very different training than you did, and I pushed hard to learn to fight. You don’t work with weapons and ignore all the things that could kill you.”
“But you’re so well suited for systems.”
“Turns out, I’m great at both. Maybe you are, too. We’ll see.”
Danissa could only shake her head as a man carried Puda into the craft. He didn’t even need the rope—he didn’t wobble once.
“Get us ready to go,” Gunner yelled as he boarded. “I’m sure their people are already trying to find this craft. Let’s disappear.”
“They’ll find you,” Danissa said, helping to situate Puda. “They always do.”
Chapter 9
“All right gang, here we go.” Roe took a gun out of his utility belt and glanced around the craft. Eager young guys and gals wearing their combat suits hung on his every word and action. They were ready to storm the gates and free the clones.
The craft docked and the door lock disengaged. As it slid open, someone asked, “Should we go out first, sir? To make sure the coast is clear?”
“Son, I’m old, not useless.” He stepped out onto the exposed walkway before pulling his hood further over his head. Face shielded from the harsh elements and driving rain, he glanced from one side to the other. Dim light from hanging posts barely showered the cracked and buckling walkway. Nothing waited to the sides, and no flickers of movement announced looters or robbers in the shadows. “This is quite a change.”
“There aren’t a lot of people roaming around, anymore,” someone said from within the craft. “One conglomerate or another got rid of most of the riffraff, whether they meant to or not.”
“That helps the overpopulation problem, I guess.” Roe motioned everyone out and walked to the side entrance of the building. Once there, someone stepped out of a shadow a dozen or so feet away, a knife in a shaky hand.
Roe grimaced and lifted his gun to point at the skeletal face. “You can fuck off, or I can kill you and end your misery. Up to you, buddy.”
The man hesitated. His hand lowered. He kept walking toward Roe.
“See ya in the afterlife, then.” Roe fired without flinching and then turned back to the others. “And let that be a lesson. If someone wants a mercy kill, including me, give it to them. There are worse things than dying, and that includes being taken by Toton.”
“Yes, sir,” the troops chorused.
“Holy Hades on a picnic, you lot are way too anxious. Here, get out of the way.” Roe shoved one kid to the side and shook his head as he looked at the keypad on the door. It needed a code, which Roe had. He squinted at his portable screen and then pushed it farther away from his face. Giving up, he handed it to the woman next to him. “Can you read that?”
“Yes, sir.” She took the screen and gave him the first series of numbers. With each entry, the display changed. Sometimes the numbers got smaller, and sometimes they shimmied, but they always changed location on the screen. After a failed attempt, followed by a restart, he huffed. “This is for the birds.”
“What’s a bird, sir?” someone asked.
“Where are you going?” someone else wanted to know.
Muttering, Roe made his way to the craft and pulled up the outside console. “Stand back, everyone.”
The group split down the middle, still much too close to the door.
“I said stand back, damn it. Get out of the way.” Roe waved his arm, more effectively scattering them this time. He pulled up the weapons panel, chose something that was s
ure to work, and hit “Execute.” Two barrels inched out from the front of the craft.
“Sir, Mr. Gunner said—”
“Gunner does things his way, and I do things mine. Here we go.” He aimed the guns, not easy with the walkway there, and then hit “Fire.”
A blast had the troops staggering away. Roe fell onto his butt. The craft didn’t so much as bump back. “That woman sure knows her weapons.”
He got up slowly, paused so a piece of building could roll past, and resumed his place. Instead of a door, there was now a sawtooth hole in the wall. A corridor on the other side had a ragged hole through it as well, and a gaping door knocked on its hinges beyond.
A cluster of terrified faces stared out of the forced entryway.
“These people aren’t real bright.” Roe stepped forward, his mood darkening from the rampant lack of logic he saw before him. “The normal reaction is to run away from someone exploding a hole in the side of your house.”
“This is the clone facility, sir. This isn’t actually their—”
“Now I see why Gunner stuck me with you lot.”
The clones cleared a moment before a conglomerate security staffer slipped out of the ruined inner door.
“We don’t mean any—” Before he could say “harm,” the staffer raised his gun and curled his finger around the trigger. Roe reacted, firing his gun before he could earn a hole in his chest.
The staffer jerked as he shot. The bullet smacked into the ceiling above Roe. Dust showered down.
“Fast thinking, sir,” one of the young troopers said. Roe felt a pat on his shoulder.
“Keep touching me, and you’re next.” The hand fell away.
He stalked forward as the clones’ faces once again filled the gap. “Spread out. Secure this facility. Offer the conglomerate staff the option to leave quietly or join up with Gunner and Ms. Foster. Use their last names. If they still try to kill you, kill them first.”
The troopers filed past him as a security staffer slipped out of the opening. The first trooper reached him at a run. He knocked the staffer’s gun away, sending it skittering across the floor, and then punched the man in the face.
“Do you want to join with us, leave quietly, or die?” the trooper asked.
