Out of frying pan….

Like deer caught in the headlights, Booker and Elizabeth stood on the stage, frozen in sight of Fink's army.

Just my luck, he thought to himself. There was nowhere to run or hide, so he did the only thing he could do. He ran at them, throwing a fireball at the closest group of men. Chaos and speed were his allies now, as he lifted the rifle to his arm and took out a man to his right as he ran forward. Tears floated above him and he would need every extra bit of distraction on his side.

"Elizabeth!"

He heard instantaneous "Done" from her and a flying gun above him added to the confusion, as it peppered the soldiers with bullets. For all of Booker's speed and Vigors however, he had to contend with more men than before and a Patriot, which forced him into cover behind one of the booths in the room. He peered out of cover to throw a Bronco at a group of soldiers closing in on him but was rewarded with sharp pain and the patriot kept him pinned and a bullet grazed his arm. He clutched it and suppressed his scream with clenched teeth. He was in a tight spot.

There were no sentry tears anywhere and the mosquito drone was taken out of the air quickly. Elizabeth hid behind a booth too as she slowly made her way around the hall to the exit. They only way he could do it were by running and gunning his way to her, but that was unlikely. He snatched another glance of approaching men and he had a second to decide, no more. He decided to go for it.

Another flaming ball flew at the goons trying to surround him and he ran between them, hoping for cover or at least friendly fire from the Patriot and others. Now all he needed were the stairs and Elizabeth was already on them, emitting scared gasps as bullets whizzed past her. He got to the stairs and lifted the rifle to aim. Booker Dewitt was a proficient shooter even with a bleeding arm, and took down another two men before they forced him to run for cover again.

The patriot was proving to be the worst pain of all and Booker was out of Shock Jockey to make a difference. He peered out of cover again quickly to take couple of pot shots a ducked before automatic fire peppered him again. He needed a distraction, a decoy…

Up on the stage another tear gleamed, but what was in it was no weapon or sentry. Booker thought he was seeing things when he recognized a silhouette that was quite like his. There can't be two of me, he thought incredulously, but at the same time, it was an opportunity he wanted. Maybe tears were starting to fulfill his wishes too.

"Elizabeth, up on the stage!"

Even though a fair distance separated them on the upper level from the stage, Elizabeth's powers seemed to have no range limit as she willed a shimmering doppelganger of Booker onto a stage. He didn't move of course and the soldiers didn't seem to react to it, but it was enough to fool the automaton, who turned around and fired at Booker's ghostly image.

That was enough for Booker to get a line of sight on the gears and he leaned out to shoot. The gears made ungodly noise as they were shattered by his careful shots and sparks showered men around the downed Patriot. But they would not let up as hey tried to surround him again. Bleeding shoulder was bit of a snag to Booker, who felt the pain in the muscle as he threw Bucking Bronco to his right and took down two men and went for cover again to get rifle out and ready for another group to his left.

He looked to Elizabeth, who was alert, but he saw a glimpse of determination and focus in her face instead of fright that she showed at the beginning. She gave him a confident smirk as she saw him look at her but the incoming soldiers dispelled their moment quickly. Elizabeth was first to turn to them this time and willed a tear right under their legs, a pool of water flowing out of a broken faucet on the wall.

She did it just as one of them, a man of bulk with crystals growing in various places of his body was about to throw a bolt of electricity at Booker. The electric arc stuck to them and after a moment of pained shout they were out, their bodies fried.

Elizabeth turned away form the flash and dying people, but she didn't show much distress, keeping her composure. Either she was growing crazy on him or she had more guts than he expected. He hoped it was the latter.

"The place is clear, let's not linger here for long."

He quickly reloaded both his guns and walked over to the downed men to loot. Elizabeth, despite her willingness to fight, wouldn't touch them, only wrinkling her nose as she approached them. She noticed the bleeding shoulder.

"I'll find something for you."

He nodded appreciatively before she skipped away in search of supplies. Further to the left on the upper level she found a large private room, well furnished with a big counter on a dais, a fireplace and a large couch in front of it. There was also a safe in the corner of the room, no doubt locked and loaded with silver, just like the rest of those things in whole Columbia.

She was grabbed a small med kit off the counter just as Booker entered after her.

They took to dressing of his wound without a word, both of them already acquainted with the procedure while Booker eyed the Vigor bottles laying all over the counter and shelves behind, as well as a Nostrum bottle glistening among them.

"You didn't seem so scared this time," he inquired.

"Well, I said I do not want to be dead weight to you, didn't I?"

As soon as she was done bandaging his arm, she started working on the safe. No doubt the girl was eager to set herself with funds once they got to Paris…

Booker had to stop himself. Since when was Paris was their destination? It wasn't his idea of course but he had to look back at the circumstances as they were - he wouldn't be able to pull another fast one on her and he had no intention of doing so. His employers were of a different mind no doubt. He would have to figure a way around it, but he was stuck in Columbia for now and more immediate worries.

Booker never enjoyed the taste of Vigors and they were every single bit as vile as when he tasted them for the first time, but at least he had a chance to restock on them now. He also drank the Nostrum, that alone among the various ether-infused drinks didn't' taste totally awful and the tonics made him much faster and resilient, be it on the skyline or with Vigors. Some had funny effects too, like replenishing his energy with various Vigors after he killed a man or gave him literal immunity to bullets when he jumped off from the skyline. Booker wondered briefly who made such things and why were they scattered all over the place, but it didn't change fact that he was acquiring an immense arsenal of supernatural powers.

As he was chugging the last bottle, Booker heard a click of the opened safe. Elizabeth rooted around the big metal case for a before finding a purse and scooping coins into it.

"Here Booker, more money." She put the heavy purse on the counter in front of him.

"These are getting heavy, you know." Booker wiped his mouth as he set last of the empty bottles besides the purse and suppressed a burp. His hand drifted into the purse and hefted it.

"I am more than able to help you, but the supplies aren't always at hand. I can't conjure up a rifle or a pistol in an instant for you to use. These vending machines are good for it though."

I don't think I can spend it all in here." He said practically. "There's more than enough here to spend a comfortable couple of months in New York."

"Or Paris…" she added innocently.

He gave her a weak smile. Yes, Paris… it wasn't a bad thought, but that wasn't his choice. However, to convince her to come along to New York would be impossible now.

"Alright, I think we've stayed here long enough, lets move."

"Where to now?" Elizabeth asked as they descended the stairs to in the entry hall.

"Chen Lin is dead and we have no guns. A place like Columbia must have a weapon depot somewhere."

"Where can we find it?"

"That's the tough part. But we must find a safe spot and wait for things to blow over."

They left the theatre and were welcomed by darkness, punctuated by street lamps. Their escapade took long enough for sun to set and they didn't even notice. The theatre glowed with its lamps and signs, bathing the square in front of it with light, but so far there seemed to be little in way of pursuit or reinforcements. Booker looked around watchfully for any sign of trouble before aiming for the cover of darkness in the alleys. Booker recalled large shipping area that was to the side of the square, unused. They would be hunted if they stayed in Finkton Main; they had to move quickly there.

The road up ahead to the Finkton Wharf Shipping led them back through the main plaza, now quiet and full of shadows cast by the lamps. The gate to the shipping area looked relatively safe to pass, and the plaza itself was still and silent. For a brief moment Booker caught himself glimpsing left and right, worrying that another creeper with trumpets for ears was prowling around. But he could hear Elizabeth skittering behind him, delicate as it was with her heels making a distinctive noise on the cobblestone and his own steps alongside hers. The sounds might have been too loud, he thought, them alone out here. They made their way all the same and crossed the gate, scurrying along the wall.

"Booker." He heard her whisper behind him.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know what those are?" He turned around to face Elizabeth, and she pointed to something attached to the brick wall as they passed it. It was hard to see in the dark exactly what was it, but as he approached, he saw a rough sketch of Elizabeth's face. Her short hair, large eyes and apparently, a sprinkling of freckles on her nose and cheeks that he never noticed before. Next to hers was his own picture, warts and all, framed with a large caption over both of them.

'WANTED'

A detailed description at the bottom of the pictures was barely legible in the dark but the posters alone were enough of a problem for the former Pinkerton.

"The whole goddamn town now knows what we look like and put a price on us." he spat.

Something made a noise in the dark as Booker angrily remarked at their situation. He pulled out his gun. More noise followed and suddenly they were covered in light, spotlight illuminating them as they stood with their backs to the posters. Elizabeth gasped and Booker took a step forward, shielding her with his own body.

"There he is, we've got them!"

From one trap to another, Booker and Elizabeth couldn't stave off the trouble. The yelling got worse as soldiers started approaching them on the walkway to the wharf, until now hidden around the area. Somewhere in the distance a loud whistling noise could be heard and they saw a flare burst in the air high above them, flashing with red light.

Not only they found them, they were calling in a whole damn party. It was time to run again, and they darted for the wharf, escaping the light and the incoming soldiers. Bullets whizzed past them as they ran. The wharf was not very different from other places in Finkton, with bricks, steel, wood and containers, be it cargo or giant steel cisterns. Elizabeth ran for the nearest cover of crates while Booker stood his ground with the revolver in hand, laying down those who came into the circle of light that trailed on him from a gunship above. He had to duck and jump away though as automatic fire from above intensified. Loud droning noise could be heard in the distance and the flames and whizz of boat engines brought in more troopers.

Despite incoming fire, Booker did not fall back, tossing a fireball at a boat above him silencing the gunfire as men fell to their deaths in flames. But that was just one out of many. He threw a Bronco at another band of men approaching him up front and took them down with aimed shots. Do they ever learn, he thought incredulously. That's when he felt a painful shock course through his body and he yelped out in pain. It took him a second to realize that indeed they were learning and throwing their own Vigors at him. A bullet grazed him on a head and he felt the sharp stinging as it left a red line on the side of his head. He had to put something solid between himself and them. He looked grimly at the men swarming around and making approach at their position behind the crates.

"Elizabeth, you see anything?" Booker was in middle of reloading his rifle when he spoke, a stream of blood from his grazed temple now staining his face. A bullet flew right past him and showered him in splinters of wood as it hit the crate few inches away form his face.

Elizabeth looked equally stressed, but she did not lose her temper. "No, but I got an idea."

She took in few deep breaths and despite the hail of bullets, stood up and stretched her hand forward. Faint bluish glow appeared around the palm of her open hand and a gust of wind begun to pick up. After a short moment the wind got stronger, sweeping hats off soldier's heads and forcing them to cover their eyes.

Booker looked on with amazement as a cloud generated above them, right atop of all the swarming soldiers.

"Booker, use the Shock Jockey!"

He looked at the cloud again and the soldiers that were trying to make sense of the new power she unleashed on them. He didn't hesitate with launching a bolt of electricity that seemed to expand as it hit the cloud and blasted every man in its vicinity. It was a painful lightshow as the men screamed, lighted up by the thunderbolt and dropped to the ground dead as soon as the cloud disappeared.

No doubt more troops were on the way but for now, their path was clear. All he had in sight were empty boats hovering above.

They got out of cover moved forward along the wharf. Skylines were hanging along the pier, an escape route they were looking for.

That's when they heard a noise, akin to a crackling radio or a scratchy gramophone record. The sound became clearer after a moment and otherworldly singing could be heard. Booker and Elizabeth were startled, looking around nervously. They saw something shimmering in the distance, floating among the crates. It got gradually closer to them and the crackling and the music got louder. Booker wondered if it was another musical tear and eased, lowering his weapon but Elizabeth didn't.

"Booker I don't think this is a tear…."

The apparition became clear now, a translucent figure of a woman, shrouded in a cloak, her eyes aglow.

He faced metal giants, automata wielding machine guns and people juiced up on Vigors, but this sight raised hair on his neck.

"Elizabeth, why is there a ghost following us?"

The ghost became aware of them as he spoke and suddenly rose a mournful sound, unearthly wailing escaping from her, as she darted in the air, first in Booker's direction but soon afterwards soaring above their heads and stopping at the dead bodies of soldiers that littered the place.

Her shrill cries grew as the apparition raised her hands. Two dead bodies rose in the air as if they were puppets on string and lighted up with the same glow that emanated from the ghost. They were standing now, eyes shining with white light and their bodies dark, ready to fight.

"S-she's resurrecting them" Elizabeth stammered with disbelief.

"Then I'll have to put them down." Booker didn't wait for the undead to get to them but instead lifted the rifle and fired several shots at one of the resurrected troopers, a woman. Only with his fifth shot she went down, undeterred by damage done to her. The other one already got back his machine gun and fired at Booker while the ghost flew over the dock again and raised another pair of soldiers.

Booker continued firing at the other trooper and put him down quickly with a well-placed headshot. But by the time he was down, another pair was resurrected to take his place. Booker was firing like mad now, spent shells surrounding him, but the ghost only increased its pace. His fight seemed in vain as the siren started raising the corpses he just shot. Finally, Booker was forced into cover as the undead begun returning fire. He was back to square one.

"Elizabeth do you think you can do it again?"

"It won't work, she will bring them back right up!"

He gritted his teeth and loaded his remaining ammunition into the rifle. He felt the familiar heat in his hand as he willed Devil's Kiss and threw a fireball at the group of undead. It was enough to stop them firing for a moment as they flailed around and Booker moved forward, with his sights on the wailing specter. His bullets weren't silver, but they had an effect, the spirit screamed as rounds from the rifle pierced through its airy form. The undead were on him again, but he swatted them away with a quick Bronco.

The siren did not stay still, floating around the area, looking for more bodies to raise, but those put down by Booker were now set ablaze by his vigor and were charred beyond use. He dropped the empty rifle and followed the ghost with his hand cannon. Booker did not let up until she screamed one last time, sharp noise followed by a shockwave as she popped like a soapy bubble.

Booker walked back to Elizabeth, exhausted. He picked up a machine gun from one of the bodies before he sat down on a crate nearby. Elizabeth now began their ritual of tending to his wounds with supplies found among the soldiers.

"What the hell was that thing?"

"I don't think that was a ghost." Elizabeth replied thoughtfully as she cleaned Booker's head wound with antiseptic. "Ghost can't be hurt with bullets. It must have been someone who didn't quite go to the other side, or had ability to contact the dead."

"Dead or not, she screamed like a banshee." Booker remarked.

"Maybe she was a singer before, and now she's a siren." Elizabeth said wistfully. She put away the medical supplies and Booker got up slowly. "It seems like she followed us all the way here from the theater."

"You are magnet for trouble, you know that?" Booker joked and smirked, but Elizabeth only gave him a threatening glare and pursed her lips.

"If you think I'm funny Mister DeWitt…"

"Alright, I didn't mean it." He sighed. "We need to lay low somewhere. That Shantytown place seems good for it."

Elizabeth eased up and searched her memory. "I recall the maps showing Shantytown somewhere below us."

"Then there must be an elevator somewhere here." Booker declared. They set themselves looking around and Elizabeth was somehow able to find a sign guiding them to the "maintenance elevator". There were no more obstacles or sounds and the place was quiet once again as they entered the small building where the elevator could be found. Unlike other, big entrances with security posts, this one was plain, unguarded and locked away. Elizabeth swiftly opened it and they stepped inside.

The ride was slow and the view of the town below them was obscured by the darkness, only illuminated by the dim lights of people's dwellings.

"You must think me some sort of... freak," Elizabeth said sullenly all of a sudden. "A girl that warps reality around her. Whose only acquaintance is… a giant bird creature." She threw her arms up in air. "I must seem ridiculous."

It seemed that Booker's earlier remark got to her. "You just got dealt a bad hand."

"I am not going back to that tower, no matter what happens." She now turned to him, determined look in her eyes.

"They won't stop until they have you."

"Why? What did I do to them?" Her eyes were now two narrow slits, expecting the harsh answer from Booker.

"You are unique. The things you can do, it frightens them. But at the same time, they crave your power."

She sighed sadly, dropping her head.

"They will have to go through me first if they want you." He added. Elizabeth looked up at him and smiled weakly. Even at her lowest, she still looked beautiful to him. He wouldn't let her down.

The elevator stopped and opened. They were now at the bottom of Finkton, in its lowest, dirtiest part.