Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) (35 page)

Emilie saw the futility in a single person organizing an assault. She knew nothing of combat, but when it came to organizing mass groups of people, she was a pro. “Hold on,” she said and grabbed the assault rifle from the dead woman. She leveled the barrel and opened fire at a wide window.

Glass sprayed onto the ground with bits of advertisements still attached. Inside a yellow and red light blared. Racks of bare shelves showed what was once a small shop. A generic vendbot stood in the corner, garish and bright, like a circus clown.

Bark stopped talking and blinked at Emilie. “What?”

Emilie sprinted across the street. The glass crunched under her feet and she used the barrel of the weapon to clear away the shards still stuck on the sill. A quick bound and she was inside and punching out as many of the flimsy cells as she could.

Her fingers flew and ripped off each tab. The faces glowed pink and she laid each down. She repeated one after the next and watched as they synced with the others near it. She tapped quickly and hunched down with every explosion in the distance. Finally she gathered them up and ran out the door to Bark.

Bark stood with her back against the wall and her hand on the flexible cell. She watched Emilie run up and kept her eyes on the phones all the while she was talking.

“You! All of you!” Emilie called to a group in cover. She handed each a phone. “Names?”

“Consuela,” a dirty faced woman with bruising on her arms replied.

A man with a ragged tattoo across his chin replied, “Paul.”

“Levi,” a man with sallow eyes replied.

Emilie handed a flexible cell to each and crouched down next to them. “Each of you needs to handle three numbers. When she—” Emilie pointed at Bark, “—orders something, you each pass it along to your contacts.” She held their gaze. “No fuck ups.” She left the pile of cells on the ground and stood in front of Bark. “Call everyone, tell them that you’re delegating.”

Bark scrunched her face and ended the call. She opened her mouth and sighed, rattling off numbers followed by names.

“You can’t be wasting your time calling everyone, delegate. We need you to keep everyone moving forward. We’re stopped while you’re digesting all this,” Emilie said. She’d handled departments with as many employees as there were citizens on Winterthur. Nothing was worse than a manager who was overwhelmed by petty details. She’d seen it time and time again where someone would be so reluctant to hand over a bit of control that they lost control of everything.

The rate of fire increased. Heavy autocannons barked out. Quick bursts of lighter fire rattled everywhere. A set of explosions popped through the air. Screams came from the distance and whispered away on the light wind.

“Go! All teams move forward! Keep them in that complex!” Bark yelled to the three with the cells. She fumbled with her weapon and stopped. Her chest rose and lowered. Her fingers flexed on the weapon. She glanced up at Emilie and nodded.

The three with the cells punched keys frantically and passed word down the line. Emilie listened as closely as she could and beckoned the three to follow. Bark was already moving to the next piece of cover.

“Whoever sees the brutes, tell ‘em to report the position. I want to know where they are!” Bark yelled, more at ease with her tone of voice.

The group pushed ahead with the rabble before and behind. Some moved with a precision honed through a life of military service while others ran unsure and awkward with eyes wild and raw.

The walls of the elevator complex loomed up in patches of raw, fresh concrete, next to streaked panels of aged gray. Stuttered weapons fire shot back from the tops of the walls.

“Gordo relleno at the main gate!” Consuela said quickly.

“What?” Bark said.

“Big-big!” Consuela moved her heads away from her face and pantomimed puffy cheeks.

Bark nodded. “Move up Koyo’s group, and support with Haswell.” She turned and looked around. She raised her weapon and shot her way into a dim warehouse.

“What are we doing?” Emilie asked. She followed close behind.

“Hitting those brutes,” Bark said as she ran at a slight jog through the empty space.

“How?” Emilie had seen what the brutes could do and had no desire to get close.

“Take out the support, get in close.”

“You don’t know, do you?” Emilie asked again, with a quick glance to make sure the cell operators were following.

“You have any ideas?” Bark raised her weapon and kicked open a flimsy alloy door.

A man fell back and yelled out in surprise.

“Where’s Koyo?” Bark snapped.

The man scurried back up against the wall and pointed down the road. Farther down the elevator complex skirted away. The main gate was at the edge, a hundred meters away. The tops were chipped and torn by gunfire. A heavy
tut-tut
of autocannons spoke of the defense.

Emilie felt afraid. Afraid like she’d never really felt before. Everything else she’d done was for survival, but she’d never risked her life like this. The feeling of control she always desired had slipped away long before. She didn’t feel adrift, but she definitely wasn’t the one steering the boat.

“Bean says they’re moving up near the wharf!” Levi said in a shaky voice.

“Tell Bean to hold his fucking ass tight. He covers that sea shore. If he needs help, have Wallace move some in. Who has Koyo?”

Paul rushed forward and handed a cell to Bark.

“Koyo? No? Get Koyo,” she said quickly. She hunched down next to the man she’d scared and stared out at a group of corpses.

One of the Hun bioaugments lay broken near the wall. The side of his head was cracked open and matted patches of brown hair covered the wound. Both of his hands were curled up like claws.

Emilie stared at the dead thing and wondered what the hell it was. She knew the strength, knew the animal-like resolve, but she didn’t understand anything about it. She felt it in her stomach that it was wrong. No one tampered with DNA like that. No one that had signed the Covenant, at least.

“Koyo? Yeah, can you move?” Bark listened a moment. “I know the big bastards are there” She nodded and peered at the walls. “Two? Yeah, I’ve got some with me. Can we flank them?” She turned around and looked back down the street. All down the street was men and women hunched and waiting. Most were weaponless. Bark’s eyes scanned the hordes. “You seen Pavel?”

Consuela plucked out a cell and spoke into it. “Pavel? Pavel!” She handed it to Bark.

“How long?” She nodded and seemed satisfied. She handed the phone back to Consuela and spoke to Koyo again. “Five minutes, I know, but they aren’t moving anywhere. Just hold and wait.”

A sudden and enormous sound ripped out through the air. A crackling mixed with a hiss all packed into a thunderclap. The taste of ozone was thick in the air. The mist paused for a moment, as if pushed away by some great shock.

Emilie fell back against the wall and remembered the sound. Not just the sound, but the feeling of her insides churning. She turned to Bark with surprise on her face.

“Tank!” a voice screamed. The collected militia sprinted away from the entry point.

The creaking of alloy tracks on old concrete ground through the air. The high pitched hum was getting closer.

“Koyo? Koyo?” Bark tossed the cell back to Paul. She tucked her weapon close and sprinted ahead, along the edge of the wall.

Emilie followed as close as she could and felt nothing but soreness. She also felt rather stupid running directly towards the tank.

Then it appeared. First the leading treads edged out from the gate and backed in quickly as if testing the water. It lurched forward again and the rectangular muzzle slid from side to side. The sound paused once more and then it fired again, a horrible crackling sound.

Emilie screamed and fell against the wall. Dread ran through her. The tank was moving out. It couldn’t get to her yet, she could see that the barrel wouldn’t make the corner. But two more meters and it could. “Bark!” she cried out.

The alloy armed augment ran up next to a concrete pillar and leveled her weapon. The bulky rifle rattled off and sparks flared on the running wheels of the tank. A small patch of alloy flaked away but the tank crept farther out.

“Fall back!” Bark ordered and then dropped against the wall.

Emilie watched her fall and thought at first that she was taking cover. Then the sounds of the submachineguns snapped her back.

A pair of the bioaugments had dropped down from the complex wall and were strafing fire into everyone they could see. One of the Hun creatures fell forward silently while the other, with dumb eyes and odd hands, raised the small weapon and fired.

Emilie pushed herself up against the wall and felt the first round tear into her shoulder. She cried out and fell to the ground. Her hands clutched at the wound and felt the burn. It was like someone had hit her with a ball peen hammer right on the shoulder bone.

The Hun bioaugment stood proud and then its head disintegrated in a cloud of red mist. It wobbled and dropped.

“Kari!” Emilie cried out and looked around for the ex-Core sniper. The creaking sound of the tank reminded her that she most likely had seconds to live. She rolled back and tried to stand. She saw Bark up on all fours with spit and blood hanging from her mouth. Beyond her the driving wheels of the tank came into view.

She wanted to run, grab Bark and do the heroic thing. But her legs wouldn’t move. Her stomach was a steely pit that felt mixed between the urge to vomit and the urge to shit. Never before had she felt this way. She blinked twice and heard another loud crack.

The driving wheel fell off the tank and spun away like an errant manhole cover. The track crumpled up and the tank lurched to a stop. It fired once more, as if in rage, and tried to reverse, but the track just made it skew and slam against the gate.

Emilie looked around quickly and saw something new: a man coated in a layer of filth. Not just muck and grime, but the accumulated human waste of months of confinement. The man cradled a weapon that was different than anything she had made. He smiled at her and bared brown streaked teeth.

“You!” a woman called out. Emilie turned and looked and saw a full suit of Marine body armor. She recognized the pattern and design, it was all Core manufactured to UC specifications.

Emilie ignored the voice and limped over to Bark. She grasped her under her arm and lifted her up. The cold alloy arms chilled her fingers.

“Hey!” Vale Thorisdottier yelled behind Emilie. “You’re Rose, right?”

“She’s hurt! Do you have a patch?” Emilie asked quickly. She glanced up at the front half of the tank and suddenly wasn’t as worried about it.

Vale stepped closer and grasped Bark by the arm. Her face pulled back and her faceshield melted away. Her eyes blinked quickly and were wide open in surprise. “Bark,” she said, like she had seen a ghost.

Bark’s eyes fluttered and she fought to focus. “Vale?”

Emilie stepped back and looked to either one. It was obvious to her that they knew each other. She watched as Vale scrambled to remove a patch from her chest harness and slapped the sticky square onto Bark’s neck.

From every street and alley, more men and women stepped forward. They seemed to be in small groups, packs. They had a mix of weapons, most light, but some a heavy barreled mean looking thing. They all wore eyes that seemed too wide, too bright, too excited.

“Situation?” Vale asked as she sprayed a small canister of anticoagulant nanites onto Emilie’s shoulder.

Emilie spoke and watched the lurching nose of the tank. “Most are inside, but watch out,” she pointed above her and then to the corpse of the bioaugment, “some of those can leap down.”

“Long time no see,” Bark said with a cough and a fluttering of her eyes.

“You look good,” Vale said.

Bark smiled and tried to chuckle. “Fuck you.”

Vale smiled back and then whispered into her helmet. “Fuck.”

“What?” Emilie asked. She had just began to feel like the cavalry had arrived and her job was done.

“Half the pods are stuck.”

“Fuck,” Bark said.

“What’s that mean?” Emilie asked.

Before anyone could answer, the front of the tank began to move out. Grunting and heaving noises sounded from over the walls. A massive foot appeared and the tank moved forward a bit more. A group of the brutes were pushing the tank forward. The barrel began to swing.

“Move!” Vale cried out. Several hundred convicts, militia, and general rabble scrambled as quickly as they could away.

Emilie fell over herself and ran as quick as her body would allow. She had no desire to feel the sting of that tank once again. Now, she thought, we’re stuck.

––––––––

William heard the alert from the dropship before he could see it. A sense of anger and helplessness came over him. He could picture it hanging in space gorging out capsules after capsule into the atmosphere below. But not now. “Repeat? Are you hit?”

“Negative!” a voice cried back. “Port side no launch!”

He growled and felt the warm, stale air on his cheeks. His eyes darted up and watched the orbital plot. They were coming around, he could see it all.

The orbital they sent out earlier streamed the position of the dropship. A red icon blinked: zero movement. The
Gallipoli
was coming in close and would arrive at nearly the same moment as the
Garlic
.

“Huron?” William called on the comms.

“We’re trying!” Huron replied with a crackling hiss behind him.

“Keep trying!” William called back, the tension grating. “Shay, is the plot going to work?”

“We could damn near run into ‘em,” Shay replied with a cough. She slid her hand on the console and a trace blinked on the display.

William followed it with his eyes and saw the interception point almost on top of the dropship. A smile cracked across his face and his eyes sparkled. This was it. He took a breath and leaned forward enough to pat Shay on the shoulder.

She jumped and glanced back through the blood spattered faceshield. “Some shit, isn’t it Captain?”