I stood on top of the old apartment building, my map beneath me; dry erase X's marking the alien's positions from last week's scout mission. My long hair swirled around my face from the wind and I pulled the waves up into a high ponytail. It needed to be cut, the five inches of electric blue at the end reaching my lower back and the black roots grown out long from three years since a salon visit. I erased an X on the map two streets over from my position, seeing that they had moved on. I shivered, the wind easily cutting through my gray jacket and leather vest, the only things I had to put over my black tank top. My fitted black leggings were tucked into wool socks and combat boots.
Suddenly I heart shouts echoing from around the block. I dropped to the floor of the roof and peered carefully over as three motorcycles and a truck turned onto my street. They were so damn loud. I frowned at the attention they were bringing, annoyed. But my annoyance turned to terror as I heard the familiar whir clank of a bot coming close. Straight towards those idiots making too much noise.
The group finally caught sight of the bots and the four bugs heading towards them and dove for cover behind some overturned cars. I could see one man with dark hair, the closest to the enemy, and apparently so could the bots because the car he was hiding behind was suddenly blown into the air. The man dove away from the explosion and into the middle of the street. I cursed and grabbed my bolt action rifle from the ground next to me. The closest bot already had its lasers trained on the dark haired man and the gunfire from his group wasn't making a dent. I set the rifle into my shoulder, aimed, and took a breath. Everything went quiet as both the bot and I lined up out sights. My shot echoed through the air.
The bot had a new hole through its armor plated chest and crumpled to the ground in a heap. The man, still on the ground, turned to me and caught my eye. He was younger than I had thought, with wide scared eyes and a chest rising and falling quickly from almost dying. I turned away, pulling back the bolt and reloading and quickly dropped the other bot. two bugs were already down from the group's fire but I took another one out as a present before quickly stripping my rifle and loading it into its makeshift case in my backpack. I'd have to hurry if I was going to beat those looters out of here. But as I turned to go, two were already bursting through the roof door, holding automatic rifles pointed towards me. I put my hands up. The boy immediately put his gun across his back, holding out his hands as if to calm a wild animal.
"We're not gonna hurt you," he said, his short light hair catching the sun. The blonde girl glanced at him and I used that millisecond of distraction to grab my pistols out of my thigh holsters.
"You're right," I told the boy. "You're not." I started backing up towards the overhang of the roof.
"You shot those mechs through like they were made of aluminum foil," the blonde said in a gravelly, low voice. "We can't let you go without knowing how."
"Faith, trust, and pixie dust," I spat, still backing up. "Just let me take my leave."
"I don't think that's an exit," the girl said as I stepped to the overhanging ledge.
"Guess we'll see," I muttered, stepping backwards the two lunged to grab me with incredible speed, each catching an ankle, causing me to turn upside down, my face still ten feet above the fire escape. I quickly turned my guns below me where the dark haired boy that I had saved was standing, having climbed up this way to flank me. It was silent for a second as we assessed our situation. I was being dangled off of a three story building by my ankles, but I had two guns trained at their friends head.
"If you drop me, I'll shoot him on the way down!" I called to the two holding me.
"If you put your guns away, I'll catch you," the dark haired boy claimed, quickly recovering from his surprise at having me drop beside him upside down. I huffed, my ponytail swinging around my elbows. Finally I put my guns back in their holsters and clipped the safety bands on.
"All right."
"One," the boy said, holding up his arms to catch me. "Two…..three!" And I was dropped.
My hands found the man's shoulders and I quickly pushed off, flipping my legs so I landed running away from his spiked dark air. I took two running steps and then did a baseball slide under the lowest safety rail, grabbing the ledge at the last second. I used my momentum and the change of direction to fling myself to the weighted stairs, which lowered with a loud screech as my weight forced them down. I hit the ground running.
"Don't shoot!" I heard the boy yelling to his companions as I moved quickly away. But before I could make it more than thirty yards a small boy stepped out in front of me and pulled his trigger.
My body convulsed with electricity and pain so that I barely felt the sidewalk rise up to meet me. Black spots danced in my vision and it seemed like an eternity before the pain ceased. I groaned from the ground and grabbed the wires of the Taser, yanking the prongs out of my chest.
"Kid," I gasped. "If that scars you're going to be in deep shit." I sighed as I was surrounded by the scavengers, all guns trained on me.
"We don't want to hurt you," the dark haired boy said as they all stared at me, still on the ground.
"Too late," I commented, throwing a glare at the kid, who grimaced.
"I'm Colonel Dan Weaver, leader of the 2nd Massachusetts resistance group," a rough voice sounded from a man with a graying ponytail and a baseball cap. I glared at them. The two who had caught my ankles came jogging up and I tensed when I saw metal protruding from their spines. That could only mean one this.
"Resistance, my ass," I said bitterly. They all exchanged glances.
"All can be explained later," the colonel assured me. "Right now we have to get out of the open. And I'm sorry but we have too many questions for you to let you go." The kid came forward and slowly took my pistols and, with a motion from the colonel, I took off my backpack and handed it to him.
"If you're taking me somewhere, at least get all of my stuff," I complained. "I have a duffel in that car over there." I motioned to a wreck across the street. I was still sitting on the ground but I tensed as the boy with the spikes went to the car, preparing to run. His hand went to the handle.
"Hold on, razorback!" called another man, walking towards us. He examined the car and peered through the window. "She has this thing rigged to blow," the man revealed, shooting me a leering glance. He had long greasy hair and a necklace of bug claws around his neck. The group turned to me with newly wary eyes. I rolled my own at them but stayed silent.
"Would it have killed Ben?" the kid asked.
"No," the biker man admitted. "Just enough of a boom for a distraction." The colonel nodded.
"People only go to such careful measures when they're protecting someone," he said to me. "If you take us to them, we'll take them with us, get them something to eat." I sighed and lay down on the concrete, taking stock of my options. They wouldn't last long without me.
"Fine," I grumbled, standing up. I led them silently to a burned out building down the road. I kicked open the door and a low growl emitted from the corner. I clicked my tongue and Backup, my white pit bull, sat obediently. I walked past him.
"Come on, old man," I said, moving a piece of cardboard to reveal Gregory. I helped him up, putting his hands on my shoulders to lead him out of the room. "There are some people that are going to take us away from here." Gregory squeezed my shoulders sharply and stopped walking. I patted his hand, coaxing him to keep going. "Even prisoners get three meals a day," I comforted, eyeing the colonel who was squinting at me. The others were staring at Gregory, slowly realizing that the wrinkled old man was blind.
"Matt, why don't you take this fella to the truck? He can ride up front," the colonel said. The kid came up cautiously and I moved Gregory's hands from my shoulders to the kids.
"It's just a little ways," Matt said quietly. The boy they called Ben and his blonde led me back to the truck, Backup following silently and soberly to my left. When we got to the truck the man with the greasy hair eyed Backup and then pointed a pistol at him.
"We aren't taking your mutt," he said. I grabbed his elbow with one hand, using the other to force his pistol back into his nose. I quickly disarmed him, then kneed him in the groin and pushed his bent form to the ground. I pointed his own gun at his head, Backup sitting patiently next to me.
"You point a gun at my dog again and you'll get a bullet in your knee cap. Understand?" I asked. The man snarled at me. I shot the pavement barely an inch away from his knee and he froze. "Do you understand?" I repeated calmly.
"Yes! Fine you crazy bitch!" he yelled. I dropped the mag from his pistol, released the bullet in the chamber, and then tossed him his emptied gun.
"Maggie, secure her," the colonel said but then he glanced around at his group, his eyes landing on the man on the ground. "Nobody touches the dog," he ordered. The blonde walked up and I offered my hands for her to zip tie. Judging by her look and the sluggishness of stepping in, I could tell that the man I had just beaten up wasn't well liked. I watched as the colonel ordered him to take the dark haired boys bike. He grumbled but walked away, giving me only a scathing look. I watched him go. The rest moved to their bikes and the colonel got in the front of the truck with Matt and Gregory.
There was a loud bang as the dark haired boy dropped a plank onto the edge of the open truck bed.
"For your dog," he explained. Backup turned his head to look at me and I inclined mine towards the truck, giving him permission. He walked up the ramp and into the truck. I joined him at the front of the bed and sat with my legs outstretched, Backup laying down and resting his head on my thigh. The boy climbed in and then closed the truck, hitting the side twice to signal we were ready. He sat easily but his automatic rested lazily across his lap.
"What's your name?" he asked. He looked like he was in his early twenties, with dark hair and eyes, wearing fingerless gloves and layers that made him seem bulkier than he probably was. He was cute, not up to par with my normal standard but definitely boy-next-door appealing. When he saw I wasn't going to answer, he sighed. "Well, I'm Hal. Hal Mason and my kid brother Matt was the one who got you with the Taser," he explained. When I narrowed my eyes at this he looked away but kept going. "And my other brother is Ben. The one you almost blew up." He gave me an amused glance.
"Something tells me he would have made it," I bit out before I could stop myself.
"You mean the spikes?" Hal asked. "Well, his healing isn't what it used to be. Not since he gave three of his spikes to Maggie." At my look of alarm he continued. "Relax, he can't just hand them out. She was paralyzed from the neck down and fading fast, so he had a surgical procedure to give her some. They helped her heal." I processed this silently.
"There weren't any side effects?" I asked curiously.
"Other than she's his girlfriend now instead of mine? No, not at all," Hal said. He was teasing, but his tone was still bitter. "How long have you been with the old man?" At my silence he gave another frustrated sigh. "We're going to take care of him but we have to know how."
"Two weeks," I offered. Hal raised his eyebrows.
"Do you know how he survived this long?"
"Nope. He doesn't talk," I said.
"You don't even know his name?"
"I call him Gregory." Hal nodded and we spent the rest of the ride in silence. After about an hour we came to an intact sheriff's department. There were almost a hundred people milling around.
"We have a lot more," Hal said to me as we parked. "They're at home base, all the civilians and guards. The fighters are here preparing to free another ghetto camp." I had heard some rumors that there was a resistance group fighting for the camps after the explosion on the moon had taken out the beamers and power to the zeppelins. I looked around, wondering if this could be them. I was taken quickly into the sheriff's station and locked in an interrogation room.
HAL
"What are you going to do with her?" Maggie asked. We were gathered in Weaver's office, all those who had been on the scouting trip.
"Well, we need to know how she took out those mechs. And honestly, we could use a fighter like her from what I've seen," Weaver replied.
"She doesn't trust us," Ben pointed out. I wasn't sure if he meant us as a whole or only those of us with spikes.
"She wants to," Weaver insisted. "She talked to Hal on the way here." Everyone turned to me.
"I didn't get her name. All she said was she's been with Gregory for two weeks," I said. Matt had come into the room to heat that much, having dropped the man off at the clinic to get him checked out and fed. "He can't, or won't, talk so she doesn't know how he's survived."
"I say we play it safe and put both of them in the ground," Pope added.
"We can't kill off everyone that bruises your pride, Pope," I bit back. Weaver watched my reaction.
"Alright, then," he said. "Hal, bring her some food and see if you can get her to talk. Meet me back here in two hours. The rest of you, get some shuteye."
As I was filling a tray in the kitchen, Matt peeked around the corner hesitantly.
"Hal?" he asked. "Could I bring something for her dog?"
"Yeah, I think that's a great idea buddy," I said, ruffling his hair. He gave me a glare for that but quickly got some things together. We made our way quietly to the interrogation room.
She had shed her vest and jacket, leaving only a tight tank top underneath. She was lying on her back on the metal table, stretched out with one knee bent up and her hands behind her head. She was definitely sexy, curvy but still long and lean. Her fair skin was flawless. She had artfully sprinkled freckles across her nose and cheeks, huge blue eyes framed with amazingly thick eyelashes. She had taken her hair down, the bright blue ends skimming the ground. From one glance you could tell how confident she was about her body. She was one of those people that stands out in a crowd and was probably constantly being stared at.
"What? No torture instruments?" she asked.
"Afraid not," I retorted. "Just a warm meal." She sat up and slid smoothly off the table, lithely moving to a chair across the table from us.
"I brought your dog some food," Matt offered shyly. The girl moved her owl-eyed gaze to Matt, her eyes steady, and he shrank a little under her stare. "We found some old stuff in the back for the police dogs, so hopefully he likes it." She continued to stare at him. "And I'm sorry for electrocuting you." The girl sighed.
"It's all right, little man," she said. "You were just doing your job." Matt smiled and set two bowls down for her dog, which hadn't moved from lying down next to her chair. Matt pushed the bowls forward to him but the dog still didn't move. "Go on," the girl said to the dog and he finally stood up, lapping the water, I set her tray down in front of her.
"For me?" she said sarcastically.
"We want you to trust us," I said. She narrowed her gaze at me as her dog finished his food, and then turned to Matt.
"Hey, kid, come here," she said. Matt started to move forward but I put a hand on his shoulder, eyeing the pit bull. She scowled. "You think I'd have my dog attack a child? You know, trust goes both ways." I reluctantly let go of Matt. "Okay, now come here and hold out your hand for him to sniff. Not too fast," she said. Matt followed her directions. The dog tensed and looked at the girl again, who nodded. The dog turned back to Matt and gently licked his hand. Matt laughed and scratched it behind its ears and the dog's tail started wagging.
"He likes you," the girl said with a smile.
"What's his name?" Matt asked.
"Backup."
"As in 'you brought backup with you?'" I asked, smiling.
"And as in 'back up I have a pit bull,'" she said. She turned back to Matt. "Hey kid, think you could take him on a walk around camp?"
"Yeah!" he said, nodding excitedly.
"Okay, but you can't let anyone else touch him, all right? Make sure they keep their distance. He doesn't like new people," she warned. When he agreed she stood up, and Backup immediately sat obediently, awaiting direction. She patted the back of Matt's ankle. "There. Now he'll follow you." Matt then walked excitedly from the room, Backup trotting happily behind. I closed the door behind them and then pulled a chair opposite the girl. She held out her hands, which were still zip tied and I used my pocket knife to cut her free, letting her begin to eat.
"You don't want me to try it, make sure it's not poisoned?" I teased. She finished chewing before she answered, her manners reminding me of fancy restaurants or garden club lunches.
"If you were going to kill me, you wouldn't have brought me all the way back here to do it," she said. After a few more bites she pushed the still half full tray away, motioning for me to start questioning her.
"Let's start with an easy one. What's your name?"
"Emery," she answered.
"Nice to meet you, Emery. How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
"How long have you been on your own?" I asked.
"Since about two weeks after the invasion," she said. That must've been really hard. I don't know what I would have done by myself all that time, without my family and the 2nd Mass. "I've met some people along the way, but you know how it is. People die easy."
"What was up with your great escape back there? And where'd you learn about explosives?"
"Gymnastics training helped me with the roof stunt. I thought you guys were common looters, and its best to stay away from them, you know, pretty girl out on her own is an easy target. And my father was a chemist so 'boom' is my middle name," she explained.
"And your sniper training? You're a little young for the military," I pointed out. She didn't answer right away.
"I used to hunt deer," she lied but I nodded as if I believed her.
"And these?" I asked, letting a few bullets roll across the table to her. We had gone through her backpack and found the specially made bullets and her bolt action.
"Bot metal."
"You mean the mechs?"
"If that's what you call them," she shrugged.
"Well, you see, we've used mech metal before and it never made that much damage," I said. She debated with herself for a moment.
"I mix it with some liquid from the bots insides. It's hard to get to and pretty volatile stuff, but I can show you how to get to it," she offered.
"Volunteering to help us now? That's a change of tune," I said, raising my eyebrows.
"I need to make sure Gregory's taken care of before I take off. So I'll help you with this next ghetto camp, to see if I can trust you," Emery promised. "You have two weeks of my time."
BEN
As soon as Hal left the room, Emery's eyes turned towards the one way glass. She stood and walked over to it, right in front of me. She tapped on the glass with a finger, like you would a fish tank.
"Come out, come out, whoever you are," she sang. Her dark waves of hair flowed over her shoulders, reminding me a bit of Anne. But Anne's hair wasn't as thick and it definitely didn't have five inches of blue on the bottom. I exited the observation room and made sure the coast was clear before walking into interrogation. Emery was back sitting behind the table, watching me cautiously. I sat across from her. Now, sitting so close and looking at her distinctly gorgeous eyes and petite nose, I was certain of what I had only guessed before.
"I know who you are," I said. "Or, who you were before the invasion." She tensed.
"So?"
"So I know Emery isn't what you went by. Why are you hiding it?" I asked curiously. She had looked so familiar but I almost hadn't recognized her before sneaking into the observation room and seeing her with…well frankly, with fewer clothes on.
"You'd think no one would care that I was photographed for a living after all this. But somehow they find a way to," she said tiredly.
"I wouldn't have thought that someone like you would survive this long on her own. Based on before, I mean." She glared at me.
"Before was a long time ago," she said and I nodded. "Are you going to tell them?"
"I guess not," I said hesitantly. "But I have to tell Maggie. She'll know if I'm keeping something from her."
"Because of the spikes?" she asked warily and I smirked.
"Because she's smarter than me. But she won't tell anyone your business. Or care, for that matter. She has enough secrets in her past to respect yours."
"Thank you," she said solemnly.
"It's not a problem. Everyone deserves their privacy," I said and stood. Before walking out, I turned back. "You're even more beautiful in person, by the way."