Code Breakers Complete Series: Books 1-4 (105 page)

“Is over?” Xian said.
 

“You destroyed Elliot?” Enna asked.

“No. Not destroyed. Just contained. Elaine and James didn’t make it.” It felt like an afterthought and she hated herself for it, not wanting to trivialise their deaths, or anyone’s deaths, but when there was so much so soon, it was hard to focus the grief on any one individual.
 

They’d become a single entity. A cause.
 

And they’d won.
 

Some win, Petal thought as she returned to retrieve Omega. And this is the prize for all the blood. She looked down on the black server with disdain. She knew that somewhere inside was a version of Gerry, entwined with a version of Elliot, safely sandboxed away from trouble.
 

Xian approached her and put his arm around her waist.
 

Enna joined the pair, putting her arm around Petal’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Enna said.

It was the only thing that could be said now it was over. She’d leave everyone else to decide whether it was worth it. She had just one more thing to do.

Chapter 42

The next morning

Petal drained the coffee cup full of painkillers. It wasn’t just the physical pain she wished to kill. She looked out of the twenty-first-storey hotel room window down to the street below. The hotel was opposite the Cemprom building. Now that Fuentes and Elliot’s threat was neutralised, a group of administrators had overseen the clean-up.

Thousands of citizens had gathered in the dawn light around Cemprom’s famous arch. Bodies were taken out on anti-grav gurneys. Enna was still there, helping the administrators identify various people.
 

The crowd murmured when they brought Fuentes’ body out.
 

On it went for an hour. ’Droid parts were collected and taken away for recycling. The rest of them were deactivated and slated for destruction, the parts to be reused throughout the city.
 

Among the bodies, Petal identified Malik and felt a stab of regret; he was one of the true good guys. She said a silent prayer for him, thanking him for his efforts.

Sasha and the other two clones were dead. James was dead. She was the only one left from that family line, if it could be called a family. Dysfunctional didn’t quite cut it.

Still, there was a kind of relief to it, not being a part of it all anymore, being the lone survivor. She was just Petal again: the girl who appeared out of the desert one day, the girl who stumbled across a mad-looking preacher. Gabe’s death hurt the most. Despite their often-fractious relationship, she had come to know him as her father, or as close to a father as was possible.
 

The body removal continued below. A combination of insurgents and security officers once on opposing sides were carried from the building, united in their deaths.

She was numb to it now. The bodies no longer represented people but an event.
 

A pulsing in her head made her turn away and close her eyes. She wished for a shot of ’Stem, but the medical supplies were already assigned for those that survived the fight and her later mission. There were still survivors from the warehouse district. The plan was to surgically remove the chips and rehabilitate them back into society.

In truth she didn’t care anymore. This damned city had taken too much from her.
 

The stale smell of coolant gas dragged her from her thoughts. In the corner of the sparse, cream decor of the hotel room, the glossy black server, Omega, sat like an idol, reminding her of what she needed to do.
 

She checked her slate: her shuttle would be ready soon. While she waited for confirmation from the air control centre, she packed a bag with clothes, ration packs, a few shots of ’Stem, fresh water, and a plasma torch. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at herself in the mirror above a vanity table.

I don’t look like me anymore, she thought. She was reminded of Gabe’s transformation. And those very words he had spoken to her. Who was anyone these days? she thought. The world had taken an indelible toll on everyone. Her pink hair was brushed flat and straight, collecting into a single ponytail. Without her goggles, her eyes seemed too small. Bruising and swelling softened her once-pretty features. I don’t feel like me anymore either.

An insistent throbbing in her head distracted her. Memories of Gerry and the first time she met him bubbled up along with her first memories of Gabe and their various adventures that followed. She smiled as the good times beat down the depression and malaise that had set in since the night before. The good feeling lasted a few seconds before being drowned by the tide of grief.
 

A notification bleeped from her slate; her shuttle was ready.
 

She took the pack, hefted Omega onto her back, and left the hotel room. She decided to walk to the shuttle platform, to take in the sights and sounds of the city that so many people had died for, one last time. She’d try to file them as good memories—the results of everyone’s struggle: the freedom of the populace.
 

Young children were playing in the parks and running around the streets, their parents trying, and failing, to make them behave. The city was in mourning, but beneath that, she could feel the hope of the people.
 

As she moved through the busy crowds, she felt a sense of relief. The citizens walked differently, more casually.
 

The city was just waking up for the day shift. People walked to work, some discussing the events of the night before. Some expressed sadness, while others wished to give their thanks to those who had liberated them for good.
 

Get to the shuttle. A thought came to her. Finish your task.

The thought didn’t ‘sound’ like her, but it helped to focus her.

She considered leaving a message for Enna before she left, but Enna was so busy with the aftermath that Petal didn’t want to interrupt her. And in truth, there wasn’t much she could say. Enna would likely gain a position within the interim government and help the city get over its latest tragedy. She didn’t need Petal sticking around making things difficult. Enna deserved the chance to get things going on her own terms. With Petal’s connections to James, Elliot, Sasha, and the clones, her involvement would only bring questions and baggage. Besides which, Petal didn’t feel at home in the city. It was a new place now. She’d learned recently she preferred to be on the fringe of things—out there in the abandoned lands.

Her shuttle waited on a landing pad, its door open and a security officer standing by, holding his hand out in greeting. The young, wiry man helped load the server and her pack into the rear storage compartment of the light grey, pill-shaped craft. Petal took the seat in front.

The officer leaned in. “If you look at the controls here, you’ll find—”

“I know how it all works, thank you,” Petal said. She observed the gesture-controlled navigation panel and somehow, despite never being in one before, she recognised the system, knew instinctually how it all worked.
 

“Oh, okay,” the officer said. “Is there anything I can help you with before your journey?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

The officer nodded his head curtly and stepped away from the shuttle. Petal closed the door and shut the world out. It was almost silent in the craft, the only sound being the low hum of the idling H-core engine.

“Shuttle five-three-nine, your window for take-off is open. You have two minutes. Are you ready?” The voice startled her as it came through a hidden speaker somewhere in the cockpit.
 

She pressed a communications icon on the control panel. “Control, I’m ready, over.”

A simple green circle on the glass control panel activated the shuttle’s lift-off. Petal had already downloaded her destination into its computer. The engines fired, the shuttle shook, and she was rising slowly, leaving the city behind.
 

The craft levelled out and aimed for the open exit panel of the Dome. The control tower operator said something to her, but she wasn’t listening. She was thinking about her next task. She left the Dome behind and watched it shrink in the distance as she headed east.

She looked into the storage compartment situated behind a second bench seat. Omega sat there like a dark reminder of her struggles. She knew then she hated it, despite what it contained.
 

Ensuring the shuttle’s autopilot system would navigate to the right destination, Petal relaxed in her seat and closed her eyes. It’d be a number of hours before she’d arrive, and she knew she’d need the sleep. The rest would hopefully ease the insistent headache.

Chapter 43

Petal woke with a start, her arms thrusting out before her to steady herself. Her heart raced until she looked out of the shuttle’s window and saw she had arrived at her location. The shuttle had landed a few metres from the very spot she had programmed.
 

A buggy parked next to a group of stones told her that they were still here: the ronin who had made the bunker beneath the ground their temporary base. She wondered if they knew the war was over. With Elliot’s mind trapped inside Omega, they must have realised something was up, no longer fettered to Elliot’s influence via their chips.
 

There was no indication of any network traffic out here; the only nodes detectable were the shuttle’s computer and the server within the bunker. Still, Petal wasn’t taking any chances. She exited the shuttle and grabbed her pack with the plasma torch and also a fully loaded rifle, which she had kept after the fight at Cemprom.

She walked through the large rocks until she came to the circular metal hatch leading down to the bunker. When she had left before, Gabe had done something to the underside, preventing her from getting in. Although a number of ronin had left and followed her to Xian’s place, it was still inaccessible. She tugged at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

She placed the rifle to one side and took the plasma torch from her pack. Putting her goggles in place, she fired up the torch and got to work burning through the hinges.

Twenty minutes later, she breached the thick steel hinges. Steam and smoke rose up from the scar in the metal. She turned off the torch, putting it to one side and, wrapping the sleeves of her leather jacket over her hands, pulled on the hatch’s handle.
 

With considerable effort, it opened. The stench of blood washed over her as she removed her goggles and stared down into the dark hole.

No noise came to her ears. She expected at least some resistance from the ronin inside—unless they’d left the place behind, but then the fact their transport was still here didn’t make sense. Taking the rifle and an OLED flashlight from her pack, she descended the ladder, aiming the rifle down to her side in case anyone came at her from the corridor.

Each time she stepped down a rung and the dull noise rang out, she expected a flurry of noise or movement. Her nerves were stretched taut, and she had to concentrate not to let off a premature shot from the rifle. The silence wrapped around her, making even her breathing seem too loud.
 

She reached the bottom of the ladder, her boots making a sloshing sound as she stepped into a pool of blood. Footsteps, glistening beneath her flashlight, stretched off in a mad melee down the narrow tunnel. Before she reached the end, she stopped as she kicked a dark shape on the floor. Her foot struck something meaty.
 

A man in desert robes lay face down, a chunk missing from the back of his skull. Shining the flashlight further down, she saw more bodies lying like rocks in a pool. To either side of her two doors hung open. A small nondescript storage room lay beyond the left door, another two bodies slumped against a cupboard unit. To her right she saw another hallway curve away into darkness.
 

Stepping over the body, she followed the corridor, its stone walls spotted with blood at various points. Four more bodies cluttered the floor, all showing various states of dismemberment. Each one making her heart stop as she checked the identity, convinced that at any moment she would see Gabe’s face staring back at her with dead, accusing eyes. It’s not my fault, she thought. I had no choice.

After the curve she came to a room with an operating table fixed to the floor by old, rusted bolts. Or at least she thought it was rust. The same orange-brown rot climbed the legs of the steel table and spotted its edges.
 

The place stank: stale and coppery, with a hint of fetid sweetness.

As she swung the flashlight around the room, she saw a rack attached to a wall upon which hung a number of cutting devices.
 

The sight made her gag.
 

She didn’t want to see anymore; she’d seen too much.
 

Something caught her eye as she was about to turn and leave.
 

Under the sweeping light, she spotted the book Gabe had given to her before she left the bunker. It was now on the floor in the corner of the room. A hand gripped it.
 

Tracing the light up the wrist, the arm, and the body, she saw Gabe slumped in the corner, his head resting against the wall. His other arm was outstretched, gripping the shoulder of another man. Together they huddled, still.