28: Blood and Iron

Click.

Which would be worse, this or just silence? Olivia asked herself. Ben loaded another round into a magazine for Chris’ rifle. A carbine, he’d specified at some point, a gun shorter and lighter than the rifles people kept using to shoot Olivia. He’d managed to hold onto it since escaping the MHU with Amanda and her. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, even at the cost of agitating some of the bruises across her chest.

Click.

At the back of the shop, Olivia hovered near a stack of boxes and back wall. She leaned her shoulder against the concrete, trying to blink the exhaustion from her eyes. We’ve only been back an hour. But Sanchez and his guys could be here soon. I don’t think I’ve ever met him. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him. Why is he trying to kill us? 

Click.

Ben fished another bullet from the almost empty ammo box on the table in the center of the room, brass rattling against brass. He leaned back in his chair without a care in the world, as if a bunch of murderers weren’t bearing down on them right that moment. 

Click.

Amanda hunched over a large, rugged laptop, Nomad leaning over her shoulder. Feeds from several different cameras played across the screen, as the two of them tried to plan out different potential approaches Sanchez might take. They, at least, seemed as worried as Olivia felt.

She jumped up when the expected click failed to happen, exhaustion temporarily forgotten as her wide eyes darted around, looking for any threat.

Ben flipped the magazine over and smacked it into the table, driving the last round in. The thud echoed off the ceiling, well above even Olivia’s head. The handful of other magazines, most now heavy and loaded, bounced against the table. Ben leaned forward, one hand grabbing an empty one, the other returning to the ammo box. The hiss building in Olivia’s throat morphed into a weary sigh. She slumped back against the wall.

Click. 

With nothing to help with, she could only wait, stewing in her own thoughts. Everyone else is busy. Maybe I can go outside and look around. The cameras can’t see everything. It’s not like I’m doing anything right now anyways. I don’t know what else to do and I’ll sound stupid if I ask stuff. She trudged over to the back door and headed out, blinking a few times as the midday sun hit her eyes. With the back lot safe and empty, she flew up to the roof to get a better view.

She kept back from the lip of the roof, and away from any prying eyes that might be on the ground. A random civilian might call down the whole MHU on them if they spotted her. Her half spread wings caught the warm sun as she paced between two air vents. I’m always inside during the day. This feels nice. Only half focused on keeping an eye out for trouble and no one nearby, she watched and listened to the dull roar of a city in motion instead of the incessant clicking.

The north-south highway, so small in the distance, towered over the buildings in the area. Buildings much like the one Olivia now stood atop of. If she flew over there, she would be dwarfed by a gigantic strip of concrete and asphalt, with dozens of cars and trucks passing every second. Beyond that lay downtown, towering once again above buildings that seemed to blend into the plains at her distance. 

She reached as close to the edge of the roof as she dared and turned around. Now before her lay the impassive range of mountains, with the last of the spring snow melting away from their peaks. Evergreen trees clung to their flanks, and to the line of rolling hills at their feet. A few fluffy white clouds gathered above and behind them, some of the only in view. From her vantage point, the sky stretched on unbroken in every direction as far as she could see, the land losing all details and turning into a light brown smear on the horizon. She could fly forever and never reach the end.

I have a family somewhere out there. Probably. I hope they’re nice. I still have no idea who I was though. What will I even do once I find out? Ben said he’d help, but everyone has been so tired or busy trying not to die. Are we ever going to stop? Stop having someone try to kill us? How can I make it stop?

She scratched at the fading red welt on the back of her neck with a claw. The sting had subsided, though she still felt a small alien thing under the skin. They’re tracking me. Could I just run away? If I fly really far maybe they’ll come for me and not the others. Would that keep everyone else safe? But if anything goes wrong, we can’t help each other. We’d all be dead if it weren’t for each other. 

What can I do? Why are they even trying to attack us anyways? I don’t want to fight anyone. Could we just talk to them? If we leave them alone they leave us alone? I think it’s too late for that, though. We’ve fought and killed too many times. Wait, no, I read this somewhere. That ship has sailed. That’s a simile? Or metaphor? Whatever. We messed up. I messed up. Someone messed up and now we’re stuck here. I wish I had known what would happen when I first met Ben. Maybe I could do stuff differently. But this is my home now, and I don’t want to leave it for some guy who is trying to kill me.

Close to the edge of the roof once more, she turned around, pacing towards the city again. What am I doing? I’m sitting here worrying as people get ready to kill us. Us. Not just me. And I’m pretending to keep lookout. I don’t know what to do, but sitting here and worrying is what not to do. I can learn from Ben and Chris and Amanda. It would be better than just waiting around like this. With the back lot still empty and abandoned, she jumped from the roof, wings spread to reduce the impact to a light jostle to her legs as she hit the ground. Once back inside, Olivia strode up to the others. 

“Perfect timin’! Just about to come grab you,” said Ben as she joined him at the table. Amanda and Chris sat on the other side, with a blueprint of the building laid out before them. Amanda only half paid attention to the conversation, keeping an eye on the cameras on the laptop beside her. “What’s the plan, Blondie?” asked Ben, his eyes on Chris.

“We do to them what they did to us. Unless he’s an idiot we’re going to be hit by a lot of people. We won’t win a straight up firefight,” explained Chris. While calm and even toned as ever, he spoke with urgency. “We might not have as much room to work with, but we can slow them down, make them miserable, and grind them to the bone.”

“We’ve got four doors leading in here, as well as a row of garage doors. No basement, no roof access from the inside,” said Amanda. “One of those doors is a heavy metal thing at the end of a long hallway. Chris already hauled a bunch of spare furniture and boxes to block it off.”

“They won’t be able to throw manpower at it, it’s not very wide. It took me about thirty minutes to barricade, call it fifteen for them to get rid of it.”

“The two doors out front are glass. I’ve rigged them up with shock traps, along with the windows if someone breaks them to get through. They’ll be able to get through, but it buys us time to react. That leaves us with the ones back here.” Amanda tore her eyes from the camera feeds to spread her hand out at the shop, where all their beds and other salvaged furniture lay. Along the back wall stood a series of garage doors, along with an ordinary heavy metal one in the center.

“We’re going to have to react to wherever they try to force entry,” explained Chris. “Amanda has all the camera feeds routed up to her armor, we’ll have to rely on her to keep us informed.” I can hear and smell really good. Maybe I could help? Like with that robot. Wait, what if they bring the robot again? 

Before Olivia could work out how to word her ideas, Ben tapped a knife point on one of the doors on the paper. “Sittin’ still in here a good idea?” It’s safer in here, right? That’s why we’re running as a group already.

“No,” replied Chris with a shake of his head. “That’s why we won’t. You have a sniper rifle. I suggest you find a good vantage point covering the back lot. That’s where we’ll strike out from first. After that we’ll have to wing it.” 

Ben snickered and nudged Olivia. She stared at him, head tilted in confusion. Wait, was that a joke?

“Focus,” ordered Amanda with a roll of her eyes. “If I had to guess I’d say they’ll try the front first, glass is a softer target than metal.”

“Cover the back at the beginning,” ordered Chris “That way we can focus the three of us on the obvious. Make sure you can cover the front, too, in case anything goes wrong.”

“Yeah, makes sense. I hope you ain’t expectin’ me to start poppin’ heads at will. Not much practice, ammo is expensive for the damn thing.”

“As long as you make them miserable,” replied Chris. Ben cackled.

“What should I do?” asked Olivia, finally able to get a word in.

“You’ll start with us,” said Chris, motioning to himself and Amanda. “We need to stick together, don’t charge at the first person who shoots at us.”

Olivia felt her cheeks heat up. I guess I do that a lot. “OK.”

“If we move outside, get in the air. If not, keep off to the side. If any of them get to close, slap them down. Life will be easier for Amanda and I if we don’t have to worry about a flank.”

“OK.” I guess that makes sense.

At the sight of her hesitance, Amanda asked, “Something wrong?”

Olivia flicked the tip of her tail back and forth as she chose her words carefully. “Could we just run away? All of us? I get that we don’t want to split up.”

“If they’re tracking you, running won’t matter. I’d rather have solid walls that I know between me and whoever comes knocking,” explained Chris.

“Could we zap that tracker or somethin’? Ben asked Amanda. Would that work? That would be good. It kind of feels like this is all my fault right now.

“I thought about that,” she replied. “If I had a direct connection, that would be easy, but then we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place if I could cut into it. Without that I would have to throw more power into her neck then I would be comfortable with.”

“What do you mean ‘comfortable’?” asked Chris.

“It means a very good chance it kills her. Like, more so than the gang coming to kill us.”

They continued laying out several contingencies as Ben slipped out with his long rifle. Olivia kept pace as best she could with Amanda and Chris as they bounced ideas off of each other. OK. Maybe we know what we’re doing. Maybe I know what to do for once. 

Amanda’s computer let out a loud beep, causing Olivia to jump in her seat. On screen, half a dozen cars and trucks barrelled towards their hideout from one of the nearby side streets. Olivia frowned, spotting some strange thing in the back of one truck in the brief moment she could see into its bed.

“That’s got to be them,” confirmed Amanda. 

“Here we go,” said Chris, slipping his blue bandana over his face. How is he so calm? “Skulker, you in position?”

“Yeah. Watchin’ now. They’re splittin’ up. I got the back half.” 

Amanda and Chris checked their guns one last time, moving to take their predetermined positions. Olivia followed after them. They kept out of sight, unwilling to give their attackers a target. Olivia tapped her claws against the wall she leaned against, seeking some outlet for the nervous energy building up. 

“They’re stoppin’. Stand by.” The seconds ticked by, with no sound from the front. “Technical! Front side, get down!” shouted Ben over the comms. What?

“Olivia, on the ground,” ordered Chris. The urgency and worry in his voice sent a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She lay flat not a moment too soon. Heavy gunfire, heavier than Olivia had ever seen or heard before, tore through the entire front of their shop. The ordinary fire she’d seen before bounced off of solid walls and floors. These bullets dug in deep, kicking up puffs of concrete dust. Glass shattered and drywall disintegrated. Some shots drilled straight into the back shop, where they’d been living for the past few weeks. 

“Skulker!” shouted Chris into his comm, his voice half drowned out by the gunfire.

“Bad angle, movin’!” came the response.

The fire continued unabated. Amanda had dragged most of her equipment to a room in the center of the building, hoping to keep it out of harm’s way. Whatever heavy gun they fired tore through boxes and wood. Olivia could hear boards and glass breaking from that direction. She spotted Amanda also looking in that direction, her expression was unreadable beneath her helmet. They’re just spraying bullets. It’s only a matter of time before one of them hits us.

A crack sounded out, echoing off the walls as the gunfire cut off. Silence reigned for a moment, leaving Olivia with a sourceless ringing in her ears once more. Oh god. She rose to her knees and placed an eye against one of the holes above her, taking a look at the devastated front half of their hideout.

Several cars had parked in a loose ring around the front door. Several gang members rushed off behind them, heads ducked low, towards wherever Ben had taken his shot. In the center stood what had once been a truck, the same that had caught her eye earlier, with a heavy gun mounted to the back.

Much like the MHU van, Ben’s rifle had reduced the truck, its occupants, and the man-sized gun mounted to the back into twisted slag and ash. Too late, however, for the entire front of their building, now reduced to ragged holes in drywall and broken glass. 

Ben’s voice cracked to life over the comms, instead of the usual crisp and clean audio. “Alright, my rifle’s real toasty now, gotta-” He cut off with a hiss of static.

Chris shot Amanda a look. “What happened to his comm?”

She consulted something in her helmet. “Fuck, they brought the Lock Corp. gear,” shouted Amanda. “I can’t let them get access to what’s left.”

Chris grabbed her by the collar as she broke for her surviving computers, anchoring her in place. A hail of rifle fire overhead brought her back to reality, and she took cover once more. 

“What the fuck is Lock Corp. doing here?” she demanded.

“All of their stuff was in a van. They just moved it.”

“Fuckers,” spat Amanda. “Half my shit is gone.”

The shriek of metal, muffled somewhat by distance and a wall, caught her ear. What? Oh. 

“They’re coming,” said Olivia, cutting off Amanda’s cursing. “I can hear them cutting through the back door.”