Black Dawn

by Gorman, K.

  Then she turned to cast her attention across the bridge. “Hey, Ethan—you did good back there.”

  “Uh…” He squirmed under the sudden attention. “Thanks.”

  “Forgot to mention that until now.” She stifled a yawn. “How’d you get back on the ship, by the way?”

  “Left the Mess as soon as that guy came in.” He met her eyes. “He got pretty distracted when he saw the people waking up. And those other kids covered for me.”

  “You just walked back to the ship?” she asked. “Right past their other ship?”

  “Yeah. I figured something was going to happen, so I left. Why?”

  There was a small silence in the bridge as they all got a mental picture of Ethan walking casually out into the sanctuary’s lot, perfectly visible in the lights.

  “That’s actually kind of funny,” Marc said. “He got in right before the alert went up.”

  “We didn’t even see him,” Karin said, then glanced to Soo-jin. “Must have been just after we went through the window, when we were on the side.”

  “I walked by the room you’d been in, but you weren’t there,” Ethan said.

  “Huh.”

  They pondered that for a few more moments. Then Soo-jin adjusted her hunched posture and turned her attention back to the screen in front of her, hands moving over its control panel. “So, where’s Cookie at?”

  “Nuenbar, according to the poster.” Marc flipped it up on his netlink and transferred it to her screen. “It’s on the north side, I think.”

  “Yeah. An ex-penitentiary. Heard some of my friends talking about it.” She tapped a few keys and frowned up at the changing display. “Apparently, they’re renovating one of the old high schools for the Lost. Putting bars on the windows and the like.”

  “It’s a good idea. They don’t need the containment that crooks do,” Marc said. “Plus it looks better than stuffing them in prisons.”

  “I’m not sure the Alliance cares about looks at this point…” Soo-jin trailed off, one finger tapping an empty space in the console. “Give it a sec,” she continued. “I’m routing it through my netlink to hide the signature.”

  A few seconds later, the screen shifted. Soo-jin pushed the information onto the main screen, and Karin suddenly found herself squinting up at an aerial view of the prison, taken from what looked to be a satellite image.

  “So,” Soo-jin said. “Anyone have a plan?”

  *

  The nano treatment flooded her skin and drove a numbness through her blood slowly creeping across the underside of her skull. The pain from her knee was gone, along with the bruising and stiffness that had risen since their flight from Songbird. The cut on her head tingled like beads in a rain stick.

  Must have hit it harder than I thought.

  She shivered and blinked hard, stamping her feet to ward off the dissociation that came with nanos. The penitentiary’s white lights cast a soft glow over the streets around her, mingling with the regular orange-yellow of the streetlights. Houses lined the street in a similar low, single-level fashion to the ones she’d seen facing Estbrook station, which was probably to be expected around here. With Nuenbar as a neighbor, the people who’d designed the fancy condos on the Hegir-Nuna waterfront were probably not eager for any redevelopment projects here. Property values were permanently crippled.

  It was even bigger than it had looked from the air. Hard-edged concrete rose up in twenty stories of smooth walls and tiny windows, capped on the corners by towers that had almost a classical sense to them by the way their tops curved round. With the white paint putting a lighter face on its brutalist vibe, it almost looked like one of the skydorms.

  Until one saw the fences, at least. Old-school chain-link surrounded it, topped with razor wire and littered with signs that had small, stylized lightning bolts on them. There were no flashing lights to warn that the fence was live, but that—the banality of it—seemed to make it even more notorious.

  Idly, she wondered how many birds had been electrocuted for sitting on it.

  Not many, probably. She glanced back up. It was probably a bit hard for them to get their feet, let alone their fluffy butts, between the razor wire.

  Stifling a yawn, she resisted the urge to check her netlink. Marc and Soo-jin had gone in about ten minutes ago. They’d walked right in through the open gate, only stopping for a brief chat with the two guards positioned on either side before they’d gone through.

  If all went well, she wouldn’t have to go in at all.

  Hah. Like anything’s gone well tonight.

  Her stomach churned. Tense with nerves, she shivered into her jacket again, keeping an impatient eye on the entrance. This was the only entrance and exit—unless they wanted to actually attempt a jailbreak and cut through the electrified fence.

  Though maybe the military had turned off the electricity. After all, the Lost weren’t criminals. She could easily picture one of them wandering into the fence by accident, in that shuffling, idle way of theirs.

  They didn’t want to kill citizens, did they?

  Guess it depended on just how much the city needed its people back. The Lost were probably a pretty big burden to keep, and, although they seemed pretty mellow now, there was no telling just what they might do, should they become more… ambitious.

  Her netlink buzzed in her hand. Still on the edge of the Nemina’s network, she turned away from the gate’s lights and took shelter behind the wall of the dark-windowed convenience store that neighbored the prison, making sure she was well out of sight before she rolled up the message.

  Found him, it said. Waiting on extraction procedures.

  Then, just as the last message switched to ‘read’ in her display, another one popped up from Soo-jin.

  Keep the engines warm. I’m not sure there are extraction procedures.

  Her stomach did another flip.

  Great, she thought. I’m going to have to go in there and help them, aren’t I?

  She glanced back up the street. The Nemina wasn’t visible from where she stood. She’d nestled it into a dark patch of concrete where the corner of two exterior walls kept it largely inconspicuous from anyone looking at it on the ground. With its nose tucked in, the two aft storage crates made it look more like a small freighter than the ex-military ship it was.

  Hopefully, no one would give it more than a passing glance.

  No one was really around to do more than that, actually. The streets were deserted. So far, the only soldiers she’d seen were the two at the gate and a couple wandering around on the inside of the prison’s perimeter, looking like they were heading somewhere rather than patrolling. She hadn’t seen any patrols outside the walls.

  Marc was right. The military was stretched about as thin as it could get. Even thinner, considering the exhaustion she’d seen on the faces of the men who had inspected the Nemina in orbit.

  And whoever had a coffee business must either be making huge amounts of cash, or have had their stock requisitioned for military use.

  Movement caught her eye, and instincts made her jerk her head up.

  New fear spiraled down into her nerves as a Shadow detached itself from the darkness behind the other side of the street where a row of low houses sat, walked up to the fence, and osmosed through the gate.

  As it turned to walk up the street, keeping to the sidewalk, her breath caught. She took another step back into the darkness behind her.

  Shadows didn’t move like normal people. She knew this, had realized it intellectually from the very first encounter she’d had with them, but it still raised all the hairs on the back of her skin to see it again—to actually witness it.

  Its steps were too long, too lanky, its legs too flexible. They didn’t seem to react to solid ground, or gravity, for that matter. As she watched it move, its feet seemed to skate on the ground. It reminded her of a puppet supported by strings, but keeping the facsimile of human behavior.

  It also made no noise. No scrape or tap of
a shoe against the sidewalk, no rustle of clothes. The night around her was quiet, but that quiet wasn’t absolute. It was city quiet. She could still hear things happening.

  Watching it here, walking like that, making no sound, doing something so urbane as keeping to the sidewalk like any normal person might, was absolutely eerie.

  Then, as if feeling her stare, it stopped. Without dimension, it was hard to tell how it moved. Its head fluctuated and twisted.

  Its stare found her under the concrete awning of the convenience store.

  Her heart froze.

  The netlink buzzed in her hand. She held her breath. Without taking her attention away from the Shadow, she thumbed the button for the screen, watching it unroll in her peripheral vision. She took a quick peek.

  On second thought, any chance you could distract the gate guards for us?

  Her gaze returned to the Shadow. It was still staring at her from across the street, its body wavering slightly in that way they did. Her heart skipped.

  It felt almost as if it were waiting for her to do something. To make a move.

  Blindly, without taking her eyes from the monster, she thumbed what she hoped was a ‘yes’ back to Soo-jin and Marc.

  Then, making sure she was well out of sight of the guards at the gate, she pulsed a flash of light onto her left hand, then waved at the Shadow.

  Its entire body recoiled, shivering like a black flame as if it forgot to be solid for a second.

  Then it jerked from the curb and streaked toward her.

  Her heart froze in her chest. She didn’t have time to think. Her legs jumped to life, a rush of adrenaline flashing through her system. Taking great gulps of air and fighting a sudden constriction in her throat, she doused the light and sprinted for the end of the walkway.

  “Help!” she choked on a sudden constriction in her throat. Her bad knee gave under her and she staggered, but by then, her feet were slapping hard against the road. She didn’t hear the Shadow behind her, but the hairs rose on her back and arms. Her injured knee began to scream, feeling like a rusty nail drove itself further into the joint with every step. Her sprint listed as she was forced into a limp, boots scraping against the ground.

  A shout of alarm came from the gate. She flailed a hand at the soldiers.

  “Help! Please!”

  The Shadow caught up with her.

  A shove sent her forward. She crashed into the ground.

  She hit hard. Pain shocked up from her elbow and flooded her bones. She skidded on the concrete, then rolled, kicking to get away from the Shadow. Raw wounds flared up where she scraped the heels of her hands, burning against the cool night air. Panic flared as the Shadow stretched up over her. She sucked in a hard breath and scrambled back.

  “Get down!” A blaster bolt streaked through the air above her, sailing right past the Shadow’s head and hitting one of the houses across the street. Boots trampled on the street, racing for her.

  The Shadow bent over her, reaching down. She shoved herself back, trying to keep as flat as possible against the ground.

  The next two bolts didn’t miss.

  She cringed at the sudden flare. The first bolt struck dead-center in the Shadow’s chest. The second winged the edge of the creature’s head.

  It froze.

  Then, with an inhuman shudder—like it was made of sentient smoke rather than anything solid—it shivered apart.

  Soon, nothing but empty air lay in front of her. And the vague smell of something burned.

  A soldier’s boot stepped into her vision. He squatted down, offering her a hand. “Are you all right, miss?”

  Miss. For a second, she’d half-forgotten why she’d had to be rescued at all.

  Right. Time to play her part.

  She stirred with a grimace. Unfortunately, it wasn’t necessary to fake her vulnerability. She’d hit the pavement hard and, by the raw pain that throbbed on her palms and elbows, she had a feeling she would need yet another visit to the Med bay before the night was over.

  Road rash. That’s what it’s called, right?

  “I think I’m all right.” She took his hand with a few tentative fingers. Her tears were more for the pain, but she forced a waver into her voice as she looked up into his eyes. “Better than I could have been. I—” She clutched at him, casting a hopefully fearful gaze about the street. “It’s gone, isn’t it? You… shot it?”

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “We both did, miss.”

  She blinked up at the other soldier, who stood behind her. He had his back to the gate and, as his gaze slipped from studying the streets around them and down to her, she made sure to catch it.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you both.”

  Gods. Good thing this isn’t being recorded. She’d never live down this damsel-shit if Nomiki got a hold of it.

  In her peripheral vision, she caught movement by the gate. Marc and Soo-jin walked out, leading Cookie behind them.

  She turned her attention back to the first soldier, quickly accepted his offered hand, then hissed with a grimace as he pulled her into a sitting position.

  “Are you all right?” he asked again, his attention fully on her now.

  Luckily, the massive, bleeding red scrapes on her forearms, though not exactly severe in terms of actual injury level, were showy enough to keep his attention. The night air pricked them with cold, the pain coming in numbing throbs. Now that she was looking at them, the pain seemed to intensify.

  Yes. Just road rash and bruises. Nothing a little quickskin and some time won’t cure.

  Instead, she said, “I… think so.”

  Her hands shook as she lifted them up. Slowly, she flexed her fingers.

  The soldier took one gingerly and flexed her wrist. Then he looked up at his companion. “You think we should have Med take a look at her? I mean—that was quite a fall she took, and it’s just up the hall.”

  Shit. She didn’t want to be anywhere near the prison, let alone inside of it.

  Fortunately, a voice cut through the air.

  “Karin? Is that you?”

  Marc, coming up the street from just past the convenience store where she’d been hiding, quickly turned his lanky walk into a jog. “Oh my gods, what happened? What are you doing out here? I thought I told you to wait in the ship?”

  She gave him a weak smile. “I got worried when you didn’t come back. Thought I’d check.”

  “We were fine. I—” He shook his head as if to cut himself off, then glanced to the two soldiers. “I’m sorry. She—well, never mind. All that matters is that she is safe. Thank you.”

  “Just doing our duty,” the first soldier said. “She was lucky, though. Got herself into a tangle with one of them Shadows. If she hadn’t been close to the gate…”

  “They saved me,” she said.

  “Gods. If you hadn’t have been here…” Marc shook his head again, then offered his hand to the first soldier. “Thank you. She’s very dear to us.”

  “No need to thank us,” the man repeated. “Like I said, we were just doing our duty.”

  “Still, thank you.” After giving both their hands a hearty shake, he looked down at Karin. “Let’s get you back to the ship, take a look at those wounds. Think you can walk?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Though I’ll be a bit slow.”

  “That’s all right. Soo will wait for us.” He pulled her to her feet, pausing with a slightly concerned look as the motion caused her to do more than hiss through her teeth this time.

  “I’m fine,” she said weakly, patting his arm. “Just banged up.”

  “You’ve got a good Med facility?” The first soldier rounded her shoulder, putting himself back in her field of vision. “’Cause we don’t mind taking her in and having the doc take a look.”

  “Thank you for the offer, but we’ve got a nano bay.” Marc nodded to him, then squinted up at the bright face of the prison. “’Sides, they looked a little… busy in there.”

  The soldi
er shook his head. “They probably are. Even more than us.”

  Marc gave him another nod, then guided her around. “Well, try not to work too hard. Stay sharp. And, again, thank you.”

  They hobbled off, Karin leaning against Marc’s arm for support, making a beeline for the convenience store.

  As soon as they got out of earshot, he made to pull away, but she squeezed his arm. “I actually do need your support. I didn’t mean to fall.”

  He paused. “Should I carry you?”

  “Gods, no,” she said. “If you did, I’m not sure I’d have any dignity left.”

  He patted her shoulder. “There, there. You took one for the team.” He glanced back. “Thanks to you, we got past no problem. Soo should have Cookie at the ship now.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

  “Me, too. We’ll find a hide-out and put him to work.” He glanced back. The two soldiers still stood on the concrete where they’d left them, having a quiet conversation. He rolled his eyes. “Just doing my duty,” he quoted. “Can you believe that? Just how much cantina soaps has he been drinking?”

  “He said the same thing to me, too,” she said. “Maybe he couldn’t think of a better line—he did look tired.”

  “I hope so.” He shook his head again. “Clio.”

  Chapter 32

  Marc’s blaster crackled in her ear, and a bolt of light slammed into the Shadow dead-center, freezing it to the spot in a death-motion she was beginning to recognize.

  A few seconds later, it was nothing but quickly-fading shreds.

  She relaxed. Cookie lay across the main Med table, thoroughly strapped down. His eyes were closed. There hadn’t been much of a fight this time. He’d gone rigid, inhaled a big breath, and the Shadow had seemed almost surprised when Karin had forced it out of his body.

  His head tipped to the side as he relaxed, mouth lolling open with a barely audible groan. Beside her, Marc holstered his blaster and reached for the straps on the table. They’d need to roll him over before the side effects happened.