The Bounty Hunter: Resurrection (9 page)

Lumen was huddled in a corner of
the large room. Shaw was next to her. Their collection of parts was strewn over
the floor. The rest of the room was empty. There was a single window and a
steady stream of water poured down the outside of it.

She felt like her body was a series
of compartments, separate from the rest of her. Her arms and legs were
independent entities, only staying with her out of some sort of bargain she
couldn’t remember making with them. It was an insane thought, birthed by how
her stomach felt like it was dying, writhing in death throes as it prepared to
leave the rest of her behind.

When they first retreated into the
room, Shaw had laid her on her back and looked at her stomach. The mesh of
subdermal plates were vibrating beneath what was left of Lumen’s tattered skin.
The blackened smear from the bullets shifted as the plates attempted to realign
themselves and fix the damage. When they moved too much, Shaw would feel his
own stomach wrench as he shared her pain. He would fall back onto the floor and
lay there, whimpering and quivering along with her.

Blood leaked between the gaps of the
scaly sections of armor. Beneath the augmented flesh, she was bleeding
internally. If the implanted metal had been removed, the murky beginnings of a
colossal bruise would have been visible, snaking out over Lumen’s stomach
before filling out a space larger than the span of her hand. The pain was worse
than the damage deserved, amplified as it oscillated between Lumen and Shaw, L
and S. When she passed out, Shaw was able to look over her closely. When she
woke up, he was be back on the floor and curled up next to her.

She often tried to move and
couldn’t. The interlocking plates made it impossible for her to move anything
but her arms, which made it impossible for her to stand up. She stared down at
the constant movement of the implants as they futilely tried to fix themselves,
cycling over and over through the same automatic response and getting nowhere.
The fact that she was finally as broken as she had previously thought was lost
on her.

When the man walked in, she felt
something change in Shaw. The intensity of their link lessened at the threat of
danger, in the same way that had happened when they last saw the man. They
could share thoughts and feelings, but operate more freely to attack their
target in different ways.

She had a brief moment of peace as
Shaw stood and stepped away from her. She raised her head and looked at the man
closely. It was the same fully prosthetic person they had seen hours earlier:
augmented arms, legs, chest, and head. He was fully metal and had been a prized
find for them in the lower city. How many parts could they take from him? He
obviously wasn’t broken: all of his parts worked and moved, and if that was
true, if he was a fully augmented person that worked, then there
had to be
parts they could use to fix themselves!

The pain came back to her suddenly,
as a reminder of what the man had done to her. Another thick trickle of blood
ran down her stomach and dripped onto the floor. She rested her head down and
looked up at them from the floor.

Be careful,
she thought to Shaw.

“Be careful,” she whispered, less
than a second later.

She closed her eyes and could see
faintly through Shaw’s. He could see the man walking slowly toward them. They
had seen each other already. There was a rifle on his back but he wasn’t
holding it. Shaw thought about his own weapon and his right hand began to
change. The barrel of his firearm extended and he held it loosely at his side.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” the
man’s voice came through the room.

Shaw cocked his head to the side.
He watched as the man’s augmented head began to open. The moment of wonder and
panic swam through both Lumen and Shaw, and was then replaced with curiosity
when a normal man’s face appeared in the opening in the head.

A helmet?
The question bounced between them.

“Why?” Shaw asked the man simply.

“I know what was done to you,” the
man said, stepping forward slowly. Light from the window cut through the room
between them, slicing through the darkness and illuminating a portion of the
floor between them. The man stood at the edge of the light, his face in shadow,
and Shaw stared through the dust and into his eyes.

“What?”

“You were experimented on,” the man
continued. “What you’ve done isn’t your fault. Spectrum Industries did this to
you.”

Shaw’s eyes widened at the name.

He knows? Help?
Lumen thought.

“He knows? Help?” she croaked from
the floor, her eyes still closed.

“You are help?” Shaw asked.

“Yes,” the man said. “I can take
you somewhere that you will be safe. We’ll find somewhere that can help you.”

“Broken,” Shaw said.

“Yes, you are broken. You’ve hurt
people.”

“They’re broken,” Shaw said,
frowning.

“Will you let me help you?” the man
asked.

Please,
Lumen thought.

She said nothing.

“Please,” Shaw said.

The man stepped forward into the
light. He didn’t reach for his rifle. Shaw looked over him as he caught the
light: his face in the helmet of his metal body, his arms and chest in the same
armor, and then his legs. One leg looked different than the others. It grabbed
Shaw’s attention and he stepped forward into the light. He turned his head as
he looked, unblinking, at the insignia, serial number, and name on the leg.

Spectrum Industries.

Trap,
Shaw thought.

“Trap,” Lumen murmured.

Burke stood on the edge of the
light. He watched Shaw’s arm intently, ready to cover his own face if the
weapon moved. Burke felt exposed with his faceplate released, but thought the
risk was worth it. He wanted to appeal to the fugitives as much as possible. He
didn’t want to kill them.

“Yes, you are broken. You’ve hurt
people,” he said.

“They’re broken,” Shaw said.

“Will you let me help you?”

“Please.”

Burke stepped forward into the
light and felt the tension is his shoulders ease a little.

“I think you got through to them,”
Cass whispered.

He stood in the light as Shaw moved
forward to meet him. Burke didn’t know what to do next. He wondered if they
would understand enough to agree to being temporarily confined in the ship.
Would they understand that they’re still a danger, even to themselves? He was
still in thought as Shaw looked down at his leg and then directly into his
eyes. Burke saw the man’s expression change just in time to raise his hand to
guard his face. The spray of bullets slammed into his armored fist as Cass
scrambled to lower the face plate. He lunged forward when his face was
protected, forcing Shaw to leap back away from him.

“What the fuck happened!” Burke
growled.

“I don’t know!” Cass retorted.

Another wave of bullets crashed
into Burke. They splattered themselves against the front of his armor. He
reached for his rifle and quickly brought it in front of him. He loosened his
grip on the weapon to shift it in his hands. A third series of shots came just
as his fingers relaxed their grip. Two shots slammed into the stock of the
rifle and knocked it cleanly out of his hands and onto the floor. He heard it
clatter as it fell.

He didn’t waste time looking for
his rifle. He looked to Shaw instead. The man remembered how uselessly his
bullets had been before and shifted on his feet. Burke anticipated his next
move and slid his feet into a better position to meet the man’s attack. Shaw
kicked off the floor and raced forward. Burke held his hands out and braced
himself.

“Are you ready?” he asked quickly.

“Yes,” Cass answered.

Shaw jumped from the floor and,
like he had on the bridge, led with his feet into Burke’s chest. Burke latched
his hands onto his legs as they made contact, leaning into the force of the
double kick just as Cass locked the suit in place. Burke’s augmented leg and
armor tensed in time with the release of Shaw’s legs, absorbing the blow enough
that they only shuddered in place. The man began to fall and Cass released the
armor’s legs. Burke held on as he swung the man in place, doing a full turn
before he released the man’s legs and sent him hurtling wildly across the room.

Burke moved quickly for his rifle.
He had the weapon back in his hands before Shaw was back on his feet. Burke
turned to see that Lumen was still seemingly incapacitated in the corner of the
room. He turned away from her to face Shaw.

“I’m keeping watch on her,” Cass
said.

Burke nodded once and then raised
his rifle. He lined up a shot as Shaw surged forward at him for another attack.
He fired one bullet as a warning: the armor piercing round blasted from the
barrel of the rifle, spinning rapidly through the air between them and landing
in Shaw’s right shoulder. The bullet bored through the outer portion of the
augmented arm and then slashed through its inner circuitry. It broke through
the other side of the man’s shoulder in a shower of shredded parts and fluid.
Shaw stopped in place, clearly shocked that the bullet had dealt him damage.

“Stop now!” Burke shouted through
the helmet. His voice was loud through the helmet’s external speaker.

“Broken,” the man said back and
raced forward again.

Burke gritted his teeth. He aimed
the rifle again and then lowered it instead of taking another shot. He held the
weapon in only his right hand as he twisted in place to meet Shaw’s attack,
triggering the blade in his left forearm as he did so. The blade streaked
across Shaw’s augmented arms in a flourish of sparks, denying the man’s attack.
Burke twisted his arm again and then punched the man in the stomach, driving
him back away from him. He raised the rifle again.

“Stop!”

Shaw took another step and Burke fired.
The bullet punctured Shaw’s left leg and was quickly lost inside of it, tearing
up the inner machinery as it lost its momentum. Shaw stumbled forward, nearly
falling when he put his weight on the broken leg.

“You’re not taking me back,” the
man muttered as he fell forward, raising an arm in a punch that landed
pathetically on Burke’s chest.

Burke raised his right leg and set
it against Shaw’s stomach. He triggered the leg and sent the man once more
flying through the room. His back struck against the far wall and he fell down,
slumped on the floor with the back of his head on the wall. He was twitching in
place, moving what limbs he could while the others creaked, unable to work.
Burke walked slowly toward him.

“Not. Taking. Back,” it took effort
for Shaw to say each word.

His chest was heaving with each
breath. More dark fluid was leaking from his wounded shoulder and leg. A
whirling sound emitted from his shoulder as he raised the gun in his arm toward
Burke. Then it fell to the floor and he lifted it with his other hand, twisting
it in place like it was a tool rather than one of his own arms. He kept moving
the barrel of the gun up, at Burke, then past him, and turned it at his own
head.

Burke narrowed his eyes. He knew
the same protective plating had been installed on Shaw’s face. He saw the faint
hexagonal scales under his eyes and around his nose. Still, the man turned the
gun on himself, placing it against his cheek and then moving it up.

“Wait!” Cass yelled suddenly. “No!
Stop him!”

The barrel of the gun passed over
his left eye just as Burke understood her warning.

“Not. Back. Broken,” Shaw breathed
and the gun fired. Three bullets spurted into his eye and ripped into his head.
The armor plating stopped the bullets from exiting his skull. They bounced
inside of him, rending his brain and all of its implants, before they finally
stopped. The man went limp against the wall, dead.

Burke stared down at him. He felt
the rifle go loose in his right hand. He trusted Cass to cover his back while
he looked down at the dead man. He thought he had been prepared to kill the two
fugitives if they gave him no other choice, but he felt only defeat as he stood
over the dead body. The blood from the man’s ruptured eye fell and was lost in
the dark liquid from his broken augments.

“Burke,” Cass said softly. “The
other one might still be alive.”

He turned slowly and walked across
the room. He walked through the artificial light from the window and ignored
the sound of the water flowing outside. He looked over the woman, still on her
back on the floor, and saw that her eyes were closed and that she wasn’t
moving. Her stomach was exposed and he kneeled down to look at the small amount
of blood that had leaked from where he had shot her.

“She’s alive,” Cass said.

Despite how he felt, he didn’t
release his face plate. He knew all too well how quickly she could stab him
through the gap in the helmet. He leaned closer instead, and spoke clearly
through the external speaker.