II. CENTER CANNOT HOLD
Booker Dewitt breathed, and found himself on his hands and knees. When he stood up, he saw the twins standing by the door of the office, side by side.
"Bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt!" They said at the same time, their voices mixing and then it changed, it sounded deep and harsh but at the same time monotone, far too mechanical. For a moment, just for a moment, he wondered if they were really there. Then, that thought banished, like water on a really hot day.
"No." He heard himself say. "No. You have played with us, both of us, but that is all over now. She has a life. She is happy. You won´t get in the way of that, or I kill you."
"We had a dealt, Dewitt." They took a step forward. "We had a dealt. Mister Comstock can wash away your sins, but first you must pay. Is just a means to the end-the means for your revival. So bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt."
"No! Is over! Is over!" Booker screamed, and turned around sharply, nearly losing his balance. He ran for the stairs, hit the chair and knocked it out. When he was about to turn the corner, the window exploded into a shower of glass, and the stairs and the walls were riddled with bullet holes. With dream like slowly, Booker looked out of the ruined window, and saw New York on fire. Somewhat distantly, though still painfully clear, he smelled burn flesh. The sky was as red as everything else, as red as it had been when he had ascended to Columbia. Airships descended into the world in neat lines, like a flock of birds.
"As it was written!" Comstock screamed, and it carried out over the world, booming like the voice of God itself. "The seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne, and drown in flames the mountains of men!"
Booker turned away for that vision, and saw the twins just behind him, in the middle of the stairs. He opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a terrified gasp. He ran upstairs, his heart beating so hard it was painful it became painful to breath, and outside of his office, in the city, he heard the shots behind fired, the screams and the smell of burned things. He shoved the door opened, closed it behind him and closed all the locks. And then, he turned around, and saw her, Anna, standing in the darkness with her head down, her hair covering her eyes. The reddish light fell on her for the only window in the room, so that it looked, somehow, like she was standing upon a stage.
"Anna?" He said. "What are you doing here?"
Silence. Booker approached her.
"What´s wrong?" He said, grabbed her shoulder and then she looked up. He wished her hadn´t done it. Her face was a mesh, nothing but tattered flesh and thought he knew, just simply knew, that she was looking right at him she had nothing were her eyes were supposed to be; they were just two black, hollow pits.
"Booker." She croaked; that thing that looked like his daughter, her teeth gridding together, and sounded like she had her mouth full of dirt. "Come with me, Booker. Come."
Booker waked up, sweating, his night clothes stuck to his body and almost afraid of the darkness of his room, but he didn´t scream. He grasped for the switch of the lamp at the bedside table, blindly nearly expecting that something inhuman could grab his hand and drag it down, but he turned on the lamp and nothing happen. He was behind an idiot; nothing more. The dream was still stuck on his head, but it was just that, a dream. Except…
(it hadn´t fell like a dream)
it had unnerved him. Not just those damned twins, with their distorted voices. That was almost normal; they appeared on his nightmares every once in a while. But what he had seen upon reaching that other room, while the city burned… it was hard to even think about that. It was just so…
(she was asking him to be together in death, yes, together in death)
horrible. Yes, that, but it was more than just that, really. It had been so horrible that he felt like he was dying. Booker stood up, turned on the lights and went out of the room. Maybe he was just being paranoid-god, what a surprise that was- but it was better to make sure. He had to do it. So headed for his daughter's room. He knocked twice and waited.
"Anna?" Silence. "Anna? Do you hear me?"
Nothing again, nothing. Booker struggled to keep his cool. Songbird had taken her, he thought and that single thought destroyed all his efforts, making him breath unevenly. That damned bird had just swooped down for the sky, broken the window and took her off from her bed. Right under his nose.
"Anna?" He said, his voice more high pinched that he could have admitted. There was no answer. "Anna? Anna! Anna!"
Booker couldn´t stand it anymore, he just couldn´t, so he opened the door. Anna was right there, on the bed, dressed in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes. She sleepily looked at him, and yawned.
"Father, was going on?" Anna said.
"Uh. Nothing. S-Sorry if I waked you up." Then, as suave as always, he closed the door.
Booker waited for her, his back pressed against the window, arms crossed, hearing the faint rustle of clothing just behind him. He fidgeted, uncomfortable. He hadn´t thought about her like that since the airship, but she had confessed to him just a few weeks before that, back at Columbia, she had be a little infatuated with him so moments like this made him feel bad. Like a rapist. It didn´t make much sense, but he still felt like that. Sometime later, the door opened and Anna stepped outside, dressed in a prim white shirt and blue pants.
"What happened, Father? You are not usually like this."
"No, is nothing. Just forget about that."
"Is far for nothing, and we both know it. Spill it out, please."
"I… this is going to sound stupid, but bear with me. I-I had a nightmare, and I got more than a little scared. So, when you didn´t answer…"
"You freaked out." Anna said.
"Yeah."
"What was it about?"
"I don´t want to talk about it, okay?"
"Look, father. I love you, and I want to help you and I can make a guess about your nightmare. But I can´t really help you if you don´t tell me." Booker looked away for her; she looked so honest and earnest, so full of love…
"The twins… I was back at my office at Dewitt Investigations, and they were there. They said… bring us the girl, and wipe away the debt. And I screamed at them and ran and for a window I saw the city burning, I heard that bastard´s voice. When I got to a room upstairs, you were there, b-b-b-b…" Anna put a hand on his shoulder.
"Father, please, calm down."
"You looked death, like a corpse. But you talked to me. You looked at me and said: come with me, Booker. Come with me. Come." He felt a sudden tightness on his chest, and he realized that he was about to cry. Then, Anna hugged him and he hugged her back.
"That´s was just a nightmare, daddy. They are not going to come back, and I am not going to die. I am alive, happy and I am going to stay with you forever. It has been more than a year. Everything is going to be fine."
"You are right." He said, thinking about that dream he had in Columbia-New York burning beneath him. "I am sorry."
They broke out the hug.
"Is fine. To be honest… I am kind of happy that you reacted like that. N-Not that I want you to have nightmares or get stressed out or something. Is just…"
"I understand, Anna." And he did. Love had never been a thing she had in abundance.
"Thank you." Then, her smiled grew wider and she latched on to his arm. "Well, shall we go now?"
"Uh, where?"
"Daddy! You promised me." That´s when he remembered. They had decided to go to see the Eiffel Tower again, on his day off.
"Sorry, I remember now. Yeah, let´s go. But let me get dressed first."
"Fine." She said, and pouted. "Don´t take too long, Father."
Booker went back to his room and got dressed in his customary clothes, fast, put the gun he kept under his pillow all these years on the pocket on his jacket, plus a few boxes of ammunition, and when back to his daughter. They both got out of the house, and walked towards the tower, arm in arm, instead of taking the car because that was what she had wanted. It had been more than a year, but the streets and people of Paris still held interest for his daughter. She pointed at something every once in while chatting excitedly with him, practically glowing. She had been like this, too, when they had first went to the Eifel Tower, just two days after leaving Columbia. He just smiled and went along with her; the tower was not interesting to him, but going there was worth him for sigs like this. Her smile was just so lovely...
He brought two ice cream cones on the way. They had eaten them by the time they reached the tower. Booker hated high altitudes since his journey into Columbia, but he didn´t let it show as they went up the stairs. A cold wind was blowing, making their clothes flap. When they reached the top, Anna put his hands on the rail and smiled.
"Is beautiful, father. So very beautiful." He looked at the view, the city glowing beneath the light of the sun, and thought that it was beautiful, all right. The person down there were no more than a hazy blur, and smells of food reached him. It was a view of home, as simple as that. Coming here was a good decision, and moments like that only reaffirmed it more and more.
"Yes, it is." Booker said, and softly stroked his daughter's hair. She didn´t even seem to notice it.
"It kind of remains me of that place..." She said, and for a moment a swell of anxiety welled up him his gut. "But not in a bad way. This... This is what it should have been."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. The view, and feeling like you are as free as a bird. The people down there, living their lives in pace and... just... just the warmness of it all, father. Is beautiful." She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, the smile never leaving his face. In his eyes, she was radiant. Booker didn´t believe in things like freedom or peace, but it moments like this he almost did. Even if it was just for a moment.
Then a siren blared, loudly, like god had fired his shotgun and the skies were dyed with red. Anna almost jumped. I know what this is, he thought, horrified. The same as that light in the light house. Booker reached into his pocket and drew his gun.
"Come on, Anna, let's go..." He closed his mouth. The skies had parted like a sea and from it descended rows of ships, with several cannons on each of their sides. He remembered his dream, the burning city and Comstock´s voice, screaming that supposed prophecy. Anna had started shaking.
"Comstock is here, he is here to take me..." He grabbed his daughter's hand and broke into a run, carrying her along. They descended the stairs two at a time. Explosions rained down on the world, making houses and everything catch fire, and shaking the world so hard he had to hang to the rails to not fall down. It didn´t take long for the smell of burn flesh to reach his nose. Soon, they were back on the ground.
There was nothing to do. What anybody could do, really, against a whole army? It was one thing to be in the heart of enemy territory and cause a mess, but like this they had no chance of winning. They would steal a car, get out of here fast and let the world take care of Comstock and his zealots. He had enough. So Booker sprinted towards the nearest car, lifted his gun and broke the window. He reached inside, opened the door and sat on the driver´s seat. Anna sat beside him. The key was right there, on the wheel. He started the engine, and stepped on the pedal. They were as far as the middle of the road when something hit them, crushing the top of the car and Booker was sent flying out of it. He rolled, and came to a stop when he hit a streetlight.
Booker spat out blood, and somehow found the strength to lift his head. He saw Songbird standing over the car, which now was nothing but a mess, its eyes shining red. The bird got off the car and jumped towards him as he tried to get away, claw extended.
"Stop! Don´t hurt him!" Anna said, and the bird stopped. Booker followed it's gaze, and saw his daughter get off the car and approach Songbird. She touched its extended claw with both of her hands. "I am sorry, I never should have left. Never should have left."
Booker felt the world folding on itself, and his head hurt. He weakly raised his fingers to his nose, and they came away with blood.
"Please. Don´t hurt him. Take me back, but don´t hurt him." The bird grabbed his daughter with his claw, and turned. Its wings hit a tree, and tore it off from the ground. No. No. This was not going to happen again. He stood up, and ran towards Songbird.
"Get back here, you fucking bird! Did you thing I going to let you go? Give me back my daughter!" The bird stopped, looked at him for a moment and then turned back. He roared, and jumped, grabbing the closed claw of the bird as it rose to the skies. Songbird noticed him, and tried to shake him off, slowing its ascend. Booker held on tighter with his left hand, raised his gun right in the eye of the bird and shot until he emptied the clip, but the bird didn´t show any signs of damage. He tried to reload with one hand, thinking that he could do just about anything for a bottle of Salts.
"Father, stop! You can´t..." The bird did a sudden turn and he lost his pistol. Then, before he could recover, he did another one that made him loss his hold on the claw. Booker fell down, arms extended towards his daughter, watching her tiny face growing distant and distant, with the rush of the wind on his ears. He broke something on his way down, and hit the ground. Everything went black.
Author´s Notes
Yeah, well... I know I said that I will not concéntrate on this story until the other one is finished, but I hit a roadblock-massive battles are hard to write- and so I turned to this history, and wrote this chapter in a hour or two. But anyway, don´t expect chapter three to come as fast as this one. Is just not feasible.
