Indomitable

As Booker suspected, they would have to make the road to Emporia on foot. Central station was devoid of viable transport and no gondola could be summoned. Fortunately, he was somewhat familiar with this part of the city, having passed through it once on his arrival to Columbia.

"Do you think it's wise to roam the streets at night?" Elizabeth asked him as they stepped outside the station. The bridge leading to the front gate was empty, but the angels on each side were lit up from below, giving the place an eerie atmosphere.

"I don't think it makes much difference now, you saw what crawled up on us back at the club." Booker knew that they were taking the risk by travelling at night but ever since he saw those unstable men roam everywhere, he figured that it was pointless to hide. "We need to make our way to Comstock as fast as possible."

So far, there was nothing in sight to worry them, but they knew better. Elizabeth was alert as much as Booker, watching shadows and looking around carefully. They passed through the welcome pavilion without a longer pause, despite Elizabeth's piqued curiosity at the assortment of patriotic trinkets and novelties. She stopped in few places to look at one or the other item, but Booker's impatient expression prevented her from straying away or taking her time with things. He could see her embarrassment when he caught her stopping behind, but he didn't say anything.

The girl was free for the first time in her life. As free as she could be, away from her tower and away from her jailer. Her enthusiasm was understandable, infectious even. Booker felt her relief and himself was eager to get her out. The deal he struck in New York seemed more like a distant and unimportant detail with each passing hour.

They were out of the pavilion and tread across the silent street. Devastation was apparent here too, with torn decorations left over from festivities of the days past and the broken shop windows and shattered carts and furniture cast out of buildings littering the street. Booker remembered that path, having been here on his way to Monument Island. The contrast between the sunny July day and the desolation in front of him was unsettling, especially when it appeared that not all the damage was directly man-made.

Both Booker and Elizabeth looked with awe and disquiet at a building on their left as they passed it, half of it looked as it was melted and mixed with something else, while bits of plaster and masonry were falling off and crumbling, looking hundreds of years old. The distortion and shimmering were ever-present and as they pressed on more parts of the city appeared distorted and phasing in and out.

"Do you think this is my fault?" Elizabeth wondered aloud as they looked on at the shimmering pockets all around them.

I don't know but I wouldn't blame you. We both know these things aren't in your control."

Elizabeth only crossed her arms and walked on. Not completely carefree, thought Booker. This was yet another reason why they had to move quickly. Booker didn't want to think about it more than he had to, but Elizabeth was a puzzle. Was she worth dying for? The secret of what the girl was seemed less important to Booker than the fact who Elizabeth, the person, was. He was happy to wait for Comstock to answer the mystery.

They were now coming to the fairgrounds that Booker passed without a second glance on his way to the Tower few days ago, By now, the street and the square were in almost full metamorphosis; past mixing with the future, the realities melding and the very air around them was distorted and grainy. One thing that seemed solid and of this earth were the bloodied and broken bodies scattered all over the fair.

"Booker, I can feel something."

"You aren't alone," he replied. He had no magical powers, but the hair on his back was already standing up. He half-expected the wailing and the banshee-like call that eventually manifested after a moment and gradually grew closer and closer.

"Elizabeth, cover now!"

Booker readied his gun and looked around the place again, looking of extra aid or a weapon. The shotgun was useful, but he was short on shells by now and if he was going to fight another ghost, he had to find something that would not need him coming face to face with the thing. There was nothing to help him, he noted grimly. He swallowed hard and ran towards the apparition that was now coming into the fairgrounds, ducking behind a turned over cart nearby.

He fished out last two shells out of his jacket and reloaded the half-empty gun. Here they come, he thought, as the wailing of the ghost intensified and Booker could hear people move across the street. He peeked out to only confirm his fears - same grey-black bodies and glowing eyes as before, with the banshee creature in the middle, lifting them up in the air and turning them into her servants.

Booker noticed that it was the Founders and Vox alike that lay scattered around them. Ironic, he thought, how both fought on the same side in service of an undead apparition.

There was no time for further pondering on the nature of afterlife as wood splinters exploded around Booker. The undead were laying down accurate fire; he had to get to them somehow. He quickly turned around to find Elizabeth. He had to make sure she was in his sight. He didn't bank on her summoning anything yet, if anything at all for the reminder of their journey but he still needed to be sure. There she was, skulking behind a stack of crates at a stall further behind him.

Another burst of splinters and footsteps echoing closer brought his attention back to the fight. He leaned out and fired twice, taking out three of the undead servants. He saw them drop their guns, but they were still too far away for him to try anything. He thought about Vigors and his hand immediately begun to itch and burn and he saw it scorch and glow. He leaned out again and threw a fireball, taking out another pair of resurrected men.

"Booker, they will keep coming back! You need to attack the ghost!" he heard a familiar voice from behind.

Of course, she was right, but he had to duck again while the ghost sailed above the fairgrounds and away from Booker to raise another squad out of the dead on the opposite side.

Another hasty peek told him to strafe to the right and behind cover to get to the phantom. He had only 2 rounds left, but he would think of something once he was closer. He felt his hand itch again and a burning feeling swelled in his extremity. He flung another fireball at another incoming group.

The burst of flames that engulfed the undead was enough to give him a window and Booker ran from cover of one stall to another, circling around the square to get closer to the Siren. But the apparition wasn't blind either and if flew forward to meet Booker as he approached his last cover behind a pile of rubble.

He didn't even bother swearing as the ghost got closer. He leaned out from behind the broken masonry and fired twice and followed up with a fireball, getting a painful screech out of the ghost. He had to fall back and stumbled, trying to cover his ears from the piercing shriek that drilled into his skull.

His vision went blurry, but he still could see the resurrected soldiers fall to gunfire from behind. The siren's attention was diverted too, as a shimmering Mosquito sentry opened automatic fire on the undead.

Booker got up, his ears still ringing, to see Elizabeth leaning out of cover, having summoned the sentry. He was in no position to say no, as much as he didn't want her to strain herself any more. He got up and backed away from both the Siren and the undead soldiers. He had to find something and fast. The undead soldiers he killed were not resurrected yet and with a telekinetic pull, he got hold of a machine gun form one of them.

"Elizabeth, hide!"

Booker renewed his attack and this time concentrated on the ghost. Booker attempted to summon a Vigor, and this time he got a weird buzzing in his head, and the edge of his vision darkened. He thought of a murder of crows, and in but moment, a flock of black birds attacked the undead gathered in the fairgrounds. Booker managed to turn towards the distracted undead to throw a Bucking Bronco towards them with a trembling hand as the sentry gave out, while the ghost backed away from the heavy fire.

"Booker, I can help!" He heard Elizabeth again. "Here, just lift this," she pointed towards a small steel tank lying in nearby rubble. He knew what she wanted to do, the same trick as they did at the bridge.

"I can handle it, just stay back."

Booker swept an ammo belt from one of the bodies nearby and pulled out a full magazine for the machine gun. The Siren was looking for new dead to fight for her, but Booker had her already in his sights. He kept his distance and begun to fire, which ended after a minute with a long, piercing cry and a brilliant flash of light as the ghost disappeared.

As soon as that happened, the shimmering and the buildings in flux around them ceased to shift. Booker relaxed and started looking himself over and Elizabeth approached him from behind the cover.

"You know, I could have helped you," Elizabeth said with discontent, her brow furrowed.

"Its ok, I handled it," he replied and looked at her. She stood in front of him, with her eyes brimming with dissatisfaction.

"I told you I'm fine now, I can tell it myself."

"It's not that Elizabeth, I just want…"

"So you don't trust me?"

"Listen, it's not that. The quicker we get to Comstock the better. I just want you out of harm's way," he stated, looking her straight in the eyes.

She would not budge, he already knew that. He hoped that he would not have to drag her there kicking and screaming just because he slighted her by mistake. Damnit Booker, get a grip. You fell for the girl and now you are fussing over her.

She pouted but seemed to accept his words. She turned around and took few steps forward to look around the area. Now that the place was quiet and stable, it seemed they would be able to have a look around.

"Do you think we can find anything here? Should we look around or move on?"

"We could use supplies, but let's not stick around for too long."

Booker absent-mindedly stripped the bodies of extra ammunition and money and Elizabeth looked at damaged stalls with interest. She walked along the damaged vigor displays and stopped by air rifle range.

"Booker! Look at all these toys and prizes. This place must have been wonderful when it was still up."

He walked over to her, looking at the range where he tried to distract the ambushers. The usual carnival junk hung on the hooks of the stall, with big teddy bears, dolls, and wooden rifles. There was also a Vigor bottle and a coin purse among them.

"Yeah, it must have been fun."

He jumped over front of the stall to grab the bottle and the purse. He tossed the purse on the counter, while Elizabeth continued to look at the various prizes.

"I can't believe how much I've missed. The boardwalk was exciting, but there is so much more out there."

Booker was appreciating a bottle of Devil's Kiss that at that moment he held in his hand, uncorking it and draining it quickly. He wondered how long these things lasted for. Sure as hell no one had or heard of anything like that below, he would have to take a crate with him…

"I don't care what place it is, I hope we can go there and away from here."

Booker tossed the bottle to the side and coughed, as if getting the burning taste of the Vigor out of his throat. We? It wasn't a bad idea, he was actually surprised himself that the girl was willing to stick by him. Or maybe that was just a phrase. She did seem eager to be around him, bar that little incident they had in Finkton, but it could be simply that she relied on him. Don't you go thinking things DeWitt, he told himself, but then he could not deny the satisfying feeling.

"Well, there is only one way we can get this done. I know the way here, the station isn't too far from here."

Booker picked up the coin purse and pulled out all the coins to put them in his jacket before setting off in direction if the station. Elizabeth walked along Booker, relying on his memory of the place. They moved slowly through the darkness of the streets but the sky above and around them were gradually turning from pitch black to deep cobalt. Booker could smell the coming dawn.

A familiar path led them down the street where Booker saw the changing woman, and the police barricade that blocked the station. The barricade was still there but unmanned and seemingly abandoned, with police supplies scattered around.

Booker eagerly went for those. He dropped the empty shotgun and scooped up a rifle. He still missed his pistol, and the revolver was helluva gun too. He wasn't going to be picky about weapons, but for some reason he felt more comfortable with a piece of iron in his hand rather than a long stick. In the end though, they all shot lead and he could use them just as deftly.

"Booker, look," Elizabeth pointed at silhouettes coming from the direction of the station. The dawn was slowly breaking out and the area grew brighter, but ever so slowly, with only outlines of the incoming men visible, about six of them.

Whoever it was, by now every encounter meant trouble. Whatever few souls that were still sane, they were invisible to the pair.

Booker and Elizabeth already knew their place in combat, with the girl taking up a position behind the barricade and crouching, while the detective had his rifle lowered and aimed at the incoming figures.

He didn't wait for their reactions or to see closely who it was, he'd rather not take the chance. He squeezed the trigger once and the rifle went off, with a sound of a man dropping on a pavement, his skull pierced by a bullet. Booker could only see his head flinch a little before he fell, but that was enough for him.

Angry yells were the only reaction and the silhouettes were now running. They quickly came into the view and booker recognized the dishevelled looks and madness in their eyes. He didn't wait for them to come closer, but fired on them again. He flung an earth shaking wave of Bucking Bronco at the pair that tried to encircle him. The men went up in the air with screaming and shot he them with precision.

But he still had another three to deal with, and he could see they looked mean, if not more than the others. He felt the electric tingling in his hand and a bolt of electricity flew ant the biggest man approaching him, but he did not stop. With current still coursing between his fingers, Booker threw a Jockey bolt again at the big bearded man. Maybe he missed the firs time? That wasn't the case, as she saw the brute shrug it off and absorb the hit. Only now he saw the crystals sticking out of the man's body and the bluish glow around his hands.

He was using a wrong Vigor, but before he could change and reach out for the burning feeling in his hand, Booker felt a painful electric shock paralyzing him for a brief second, followed by a heavy blow from a club.

They were quicker than him and the Vigor Junkie took him by surprise. Booker stumbled and took few steps back, staggering from the hits. Still a bit dazed but more surprised, he nevertheless felt the burn in his hand and flung a ball of fire at the two men trying to club him. Luckily, they were no Vigor men and their clothes caught on fire. That is when Booker felt another shock and he yelped.

"Booker!" He heard Elizabeth in the back.

He tried to shake off the paralysis and fired at the burning men, putting them down. The Vigor junkie was still on him and another arc cascaded from his crystal-encrusted hands. Booker barely dodged, feeling the hair on his neck stand up from the static. He fired few quick shots at the junkie, but to no avail. Booker threw his sight around for something to help, him, a tear or a weapon, while fumbling with a fresh magazine with shaky hands. This wasn't going as peachy as before.

"Booker, look over there!" Elizabeth was now out of cover and pointed at a shimmering drum of oil standing in junkie's path, its flickering contents spilled on the street. He didn't think twice about it.

"Open it!"

Just as the Jockey man stepped into the place, the puddle of oil materialized and Booker summoned fire. He tossed the fireball at the man, but the junkie was faster and managed to fire and another lighting arc at Booker.

The puddle exploded in flames and the junkie screamed horrifically as the flames caught on his clothes and beard. Booker didn't see that though, instead having being shocked for the third time. Instead of a seizing shock, he felt limp and fell, his vision going dark. Strange, there was no pain, but the sensation was definitely wrong. He was drifting away, consciousness slipping as he hit the ground…

"Nononono… BOOKER!"

Elizabeth didn't pay attention to the burning tear anymore, but instead rushed to Booker. He was down, and he didn't seem to be getting up. "Oh my God, Booker, no."

She was beside him in a blink of an eye, looking at him, grabbing at his hand and his chest, looking for a wound. There was nothing, he must be in severe shock, she thought. She brought her cheek and ear close to his mouth, hoping that he still breathed. Nothing. Her hands were trembling, she couldn't let him die. Not here, not now. She quickly turned to the police cart, looking for something to help her and saw a doctor's bag, stuffed in the corner. She rushed to fetch it.

He was wounded before; she mended him as best as she could, she knew she could help him. But he never faltered, not like that. She grabbed the white bag and rushed back. A cobblestone sticking out of the pavement caught her heel and she stumbled. She fell on her hands, still gripping the bag, which made an unpleasant sound as it rattled on the cobblestones. Elizabeth felt the hard stone as she landed on her elbows, sprawling on the pavement. Disregard that, disregard the pain, get up, go. She lifted herself up and was by his side a scant moment later, looking at the man who broke her out of the tower.

She opened the bag and fumbled with items inside. She didn't know what she had to look for, but Booker had to live.

"Don't die on me Booker!"Her voice quivered. She couldn't let herself go soft now, she had to get him up.

She turned the bag upside down and tossed the contents out on the pavement. A small wooden box rattled as it came out of the bag, with a bundle of bandages and gauze.

She fumbled for a moment with the lock on the box before opening it and looking over the contents. Elizabeth saw a large syringe of green glass and several ampules and vials. She grabbed the syringe and took out a vial with 'Epinephrine' written on it.

She drew the drug with syringe and flicked it with her finger few times, to make sure the syringe was fine. She had to be sure.

Booker still did not move. What if he was dead? What would she do? Could she… nonono stay here, stay with him. He's not dead, he's just not conscious, he must be…

Elizabeth took Booker's arm and rolled up the sleeve of the shirt and jacket, almost ripping at the fabric. It was still warm, or so she thought. She found the vein and pressed in the needle with a careful, almost practiced care. Her hands shook before, but not now. She injected the full syringe and took it out.

"Breathe Booker, breathe…" She gripped his hand, wrapping her fingers around his, and laid her other on his chest, anxiously waiting for a reaction.

There was a gasp and she took her hand off his chest, as if spooked. She saw his eyes open slightly and she felt a wave of relief. She couldn't hide it and smiled.

Booker slowly opened his eyes and lifted himself slowly off the pavement. Elizabeth still had his hand and she helped him, pulling him up.

"Ohhh… what was that?" he said with a groggy voice, swaying on his feet a bit. He felt fuzzy in the head, as if he slept for too long. He also felt strange aching in his chest and massaged it with his hand.

"Thank God, Booker, you are still alive," he heard young woman's voice.

He looked at Elizabeth, who still had comforted smile on her face. Only after a moment they both realized she was still holding his hand and she quickly let go of it, embarrassed.

"You know, by the looks of it, you end up saving me more often than I save you," he cracked a grin and Elizabeth's embarrassment quickly disappeared. The relief she felt slowly turned int a warm feeling which she quietly relished.

The light of dawn was now everywhere, as sky slowly changed from deep cobalt to blue and grew brighter. Despite being up on their legs all night, neither of them felt tired. Instead, they stared at the rising sun in silence for a long moment.

Booker looked at where he fell and picked up the rifle he dropped, getting himself back on track.

"I guess we better get moving, let's try to avoid morning traffic."

"Morning traff- oh," Elizabeth looked at him with confusion at first but smirked a moment later.

The station ahead of them looked empty, and the smoldering stump of the Monument Tower still beckoned on the horizon.

Booker already unlocked the controls of the station, so he knew where to head. One more gondola was waiting for them and Elizabeth approached it, while Booker pulled the lever in the control room. This time around, he looked for manual release for the gondola before he activated the line.

He got out of the booth and headed for the gondola, with "Emporia Gardens" written in big golden letters on a sign nearby.

He stepped into the cabin and pulled the lever. With a ring of a small bell, they smoothly moved away from the station's platform.

"Our next stop, Emporia Gardens," Booker said. The name itself was a sign that they were getting close.

"I've always wanted to see how trees and the grass look like, feel them with my hands..." Elizabeth spoke up, signs of the cherry attitude coming out again. Indomitable girl, Booker thought.