A short hedge of bushes surrounding the fortress in a line was making all
the difference between life and death for Low-Light.
Low-Light grunted in agony as he struggled to crawl along the narrow grassy area, with the fortress wall on one side and the bushes on the other. He'd been shot in the left shoulder and in left thigh, and he was leaving a trail of blood along the grass. After crawling a few feet, with bullets whizzing in the air above him, Low-Light peered back and noticed how much he was bleeding. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a bandage and wrapped it around his left thigh to stop the bleeding. His normally calm, methodical movements were now nervous and jerky, as he wondered how much longer he had left. After finishing the dressing, Low-Light yanked both ends in a knot, eliciting another cry of pain from his exhausted body.
The events of the last few minutes repeated themselves in his mind in the span of a few heartbeats. There had been explosions and an enormous firefight. He and Beach Head had failed in their mission to kill Cobra Commander. They had killed a lot of other people, but the leadership of Cobra remained intact, and the number of surviving Joes was dwindling inexorably. Now Beach Head was gone. Soon, he thought, I might be next. For now, all he could think of was the words, "Keep moving." He could think of nothing but getting away from the spot where, moments before, he had fallen after being shot while climbing down.
Another bullet flew over his position, a few feet above him. Gathering his strength, Low-Light grabbed his rifle and struggled to his knees.
There were around ten Vipers shooting at him, approaching him from the lawn and the street, just beyond. The air was filled with chaos, and many Cobras were disoriented, running around, trying to deal with the tremendous damage and fires caused by the explosions. Apparently, a few Vipers had taken notice of him amidst the chaos, and they were angling to snuff him out.
Low-Light sighted the nearest Viper and immediately took him out with one shot. He swung his rifle around to the left and blew away a second Viper. Immediately after taking the shot, Low-Light dropped back onto the ground, partly to avoid the hail of return fire, and partly out of exhaustion.
With horror, Low-Light watched a grenade arc over the bushes and land at his feet. Low-Light summoned all his strength to get to his knees and crawl away from the grenade as fast as he could, and when he felt the grenade was almost going to go off, he lunged and threw his body forward.
He felt the shock of the explosion and a few bits of hot shrapnel bite into the backs of his legs.
Low-Light felt himself growing woozy. Surely, he would not last much longer. His energy was gone, and if any more grenades came his way, he was history. He thought back to the day it had all gone wrong. Cobra had won a tremendous victory not far from here. He had barely escaped with his life that night by diving into the sewers. So much had happened since that night, it was hard to believe he had made it this far. Perhaps this was the end of the line.
"What's the matter, boy? You afraid of the dark? You afraid of death?"
Why am I hearing his voice now, of all times?
It was his father's voice, of course. He and his father were standing over a deer that he had shot and mortally wounded. His father was taunting him, telling him that he was afraid to finish what he'd started.
That was so long ago.
"You afraid of killing?"
He had stood over that little deer with his rifle and even though he was afraid, he did it anyway. He'd pulled the trigger and blown its brains out. That day, he became a killer.
He knew it would come to this. He too would fall to the endless cycle of violence and death. There would always be men like him in the world, men who lived by the creed of kill or be killed. He was a part of this unbreakable chain. It was his turn, he knew.
Let it come, Low-Light thought to himself. I'm not afraid to die. I ain't afraid of nothing.
He dimly perceived renewed shouting and gunfire, and the sound of squealing tires. He could not have known that at moment, Mainframe and Zarana had come charging in, in a Ford sedan and a blaze of gunfire. The attacking Vipers were caught completely by surprise.
There was a brief, uneasy silence after the last shot was fired. With Zarana remaining behind the wheel of the getaway vehicle, Mainframe raced across the lawn, shouting Low-Light's name. Mainframe leapt over the bushes in one hurdle, and within minutes, he was at Low-Light's side, trying to get him to his feet.
"Holy cow," Mainframe said as he noted Low-Light's injuries.
Low-Light grinned weakly.
"Looks like I'm not quite dead yet," he said.
"You're not going to die," Mainframe said as he began dragging him to a nearby gap in the bushes, where they would be able to reach the idling car, waiting on the lawn just outside of the ring of bushes.
"What's happened," Low-Light said in a dazed voice as he felt himself being dragged on his back by his shirt collar.
"It's all gone to shit," Mainframe said, "we've lost contact with everyone. It's every man for themselves now. All we can do now is get the hell out and meet back at the rendezvous point."
Of course. The rendezvous point. They both remembered the last time the surviving Joes had gathered together, just after the great Battle of Washington, DC. How many Joes would be there this time? It would be a miracle if anyone was even still alive after this catastrophe.
Zarana was waiting just beyond the bushes, firing a rifle through the driver's window at oncoming Cobras, providing cover fire for their getaway.
"Move it, Low-Light, on your feet soldier!"
Mainframe jerked Low-Light to his feet and together, they tumbled into the open back passenger door.
"Go, go, go!"
Mainframe hardly needed to tell Zarana to take off. She floored the gas pedal immediately, and the car took off, zigzagging wildly as Zarana swerved to avoid various piles of debris and dead bodies.
After a few bumps, they managed to make it back to the street, and Mainframe untangled himself from Low-Light. He sat up in the back seat and turned around. Someone was pursuing them at high speeds.
With a jolt of horror, Mainframe recognized their pursuer. It was the Dreadnok Thunder Machine. Thrasher was at the wheel, and Zartan was sitting in the passenger seat, yelling and gesticulating wildly to Thrasher, no doubt egging him on with the chase. Zartan pointed a submachine gun at them through the passenger's window and began spraying bullets at the fleeing vehicle.
"Zarana, its'-"
"I know," Zarana said. Her face was grim, and her eyes flashed back and forth from the rearview mirror. The frenzied car chase continued for several blocks, moving farther and farther away from the fortress.
The rear window shattered from the impact of Zartan's bullets, and both Mainframe and Zarana ducked their heads in reflex. Mainframe pulled out his handgun and looked to Low-Light. The Joe sniper was propped up in the back seat next to him, his head lolling back and forth. He appeared to have lost consciousness. Mainframe turned his attention back to the pursuing Thunder Machine and squeezed off a few rounds at the occupants.
Mainframe saw Thrasher's head jerk back, and he quickly perceived that he had managed to nail him. He barely had time to register a feeling of grim satisfaction. Zarana screamed as she swerved rapidly to avoid a collision with a bus in the middle of a four way intersection. The tires screeched madly as the vehicle swung around in a 90 degree angle and crashed into an oncoming car with a loud scream of tortured metal and broken glass. Another crash followed just seconds later as the Thunder Machine hurtled out of control into both vehicles.
* * *
"Blaine?"
Zarana weakly called out the name of her beloved as she regained consciousness. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but it couldn't have been long.
Must have blacked out, she thought. She winced and put a hand to her chest, where the driver's wheel had knocked the wind out of her. She didn't think anything was broken, but her chest now throbbed with pain. The right side of the car had smashed against a second vehicle. There was blood all over the driver's window of the second vehicle; evidently, whoever was driving that car had not survived. The Thunder Machine, wedged in an awkward angle between both vehicles, was a spectacular wreck as well. Slowly, Zarana opened the door on her side and tumbled out of the vehicle.
She took a quick look around. There was a crowd of onlookers, but no one was coming to help. There were no other Cobras in sight, either.
Zarana, feeling a terrible queasiness in her stomach, found the back passenger door on the left side and yanked it open.
"Blaine?"
Mainframe was unconscious. He did not appear to be bleeding from anywhere. Zarana could see the rise and fall of his chest as he lay sprawled across the back seat. Lying on top of him was the still, slumped-over body of Low- Light. Zarana could tell right away that Low-Light was dead. She knew even without reaching forward to try to push him off of Mainframe. His eyes were closed, and his face was serene.
"Zarana, is that you?"
Mainframe's voice was slurred and heavy. He appeared to be not quite with it at the moment. Zarana reached forward and grabbed him by the legs.
"Come on, Blaine, snap out of it, we've got to get out of here."
Zarana heard a footstep directly behind her and froze. She knew even without turning around. Her hand went to her pistol immediately.
"It's been a long time, dear sister," Zartan said coldly.
Slowly, Zarana turned to face her brother. The last time they had met, it had been on the Brooklyn Bridge, and she had kicked him in the stomach, allowing her and Mainframe to make their escape. She had been dreading this meeting ever since, wondering at how angry Zartan must be for her defection.
Now, the two siblings faced each other across the distance of a few feet, staggering to keep their balance like a pair of drunkards. Zartan's right eye was swollen shut, and his entire right face was bruised and bloodied. Nevertheless, he still managed to hold his pistol steady, aimed at Zarana's body. Zarana, for her part, had her gun trained directly at Zartan's head.
"Is this how it's going to end?" Zarana asked. "With us killing each other?"
"You caused this," Zartan said. "We'd won, and you had to go and screw it all up."
"I'm sorry," Zarana said. "I never meant to fall in love."
"You had a thing for him, all these years."
"I love him."
"What do you expect me to do, let you go?"
"Yes."
"And why would I do that?"
"You're still my brother, Zartan. You're my brother and I love you. And I'm the only sister you have."
"You're no sister of mine," Zartan said bitterly.
Brother and sister continued staring at each other, down the barrels of each other's pistols.
"I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do," Zarana said after the long silence. "I'm going to put my gun away, and I'm going to take Mainframe, and we're going to walk away from here."
They continued staring at each other. Zarana's expression softened, and perhaps her brother could tell from the look on her face, just how much she loved Mainframe, how she would have done anything for him, even if it meant doing the unthinkable and switching sides. Perhaps something in him at that moment stayed his hand, for reasons even he himself could not understand. He had never been in love. He could not know how Zarana was feeling. But something in him touched him, for one brief moment, and he felt compelled to listen to her.
"Perhaps we'll meet again," Zarana said. "And we'll be enemies again."
"When that happens, if I have to kill you, I will not hesitate," Zartan said. "Not for a second."
"And I will not hesitate, either," Zarana said. "Not for a second."
"If that's how it's going to be, so be it," Zartan said, "sister."
Zarana put her gun away and reached into the car for Mainframe. Mainframe, fully conscious, moaned and put a hand to his head as Zarana helped him out of the car and to his feet. Zarana, supporting Mainframe with one of his arms around her shoulders, looked up to Zartan one last time. He was still pointing his pistol at them.
"Goodbye, brother," Zarana said finally, as she turned away.
As Zarana and Mainframe limped away from the crash site, to freedom, she heard Zartan fire his gun three times into the air. For a moment, she felt a brief shudder, thinking that he had decided to shoot her, after all. But when she realized that she and Mainframe were still walking, she felt an upwelling of sadness. This was her brother. They had grown up and played together, fought with each other, ridden the mean streets together. She had an inescapable feeling that they would never meet again, and the thought brought a strange ache to her heart.
Low-Light grunted in agony as he struggled to crawl along the narrow grassy area, with the fortress wall on one side and the bushes on the other. He'd been shot in the left shoulder and in left thigh, and he was leaving a trail of blood along the grass. After crawling a few feet, with bullets whizzing in the air above him, Low-Light peered back and noticed how much he was bleeding. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a bandage and wrapped it around his left thigh to stop the bleeding. His normally calm, methodical movements were now nervous and jerky, as he wondered how much longer he had left. After finishing the dressing, Low-Light yanked both ends in a knot, eliciting another cry of pain from his exhausted body.
The events of the last few minutes repeated themselves in his mind in the span of a few heartbeats. There had been explosions and an enormous firefight. He and Beach Head had failed in their mission to kill Cobra Commander. They had killed a lot of other people, but the leadership of Cobra remained intact, and the number of surviving Joes was dwindling inexorably. Now Beach Head was gone. Soon, he thought, I might be next. For now, all he could think of was the words, "Keep moving." He could think of nothing but getting away from the spot where, moments before, he had fallen after being shot while climbing down.
Another bullet flew over his position, a few feet above him. Gathering his strength, Low-Light grabbed his rifle and struggled to his knees.
There were around ten Vipers shooting at him, approaching him from the lawn and the street, just beyond. The air was filled with chaos, and many Cobras were disoriented, running around, trying to deal with the tremendous damage and fires caused by the explosions. Apparently, a few Vipers had taken notice of him amidst the chaos, and they were angling to snuff him out.
Low-Light sighted the nearest Viper and immediately took him out with one shot. He swung his rifle around to the left and blew away a second Viper. Immediately after taking the shot, Low-Light dropped back onto the ground, partly to avoid the hail of return fire, and partly out of exhaustion.
With horror, Low-Light watched a grenade arc over the bushes and land at his feet. Low-Light summoned all his strength to get to his knees and crawl away from the grenade as fast as he could, and when he felt the grenade was almost going to go off, he lunged and threw his body forward.
He felt the shock of the explosion and a few bits of hot shrapnel bite into the backs of his legs.
Low-Light felt himself growing woozy. Surely, he would not last much longer. His energy was gone, and if any more grenades came his way, he was history. He thought back to the day it had all gone wrong. Cobra had won a tremendous victory not far from here. He had barely escaped with his life that night by diving into the sewers. So much had happened since that night, it was hard to believe he had made it this far. Perhaps this was the end of the line.
"What's the matter, boy? You afraid of the dark? You afraid of death?"
Why am I hearing his voice now, of all times?
It was his father's voice, of course. He and his father were standing over a deer that he had shot and mortally wounded. His father was taunting him, telling him that he was afraid to finish what he'd started.
That was so long ago.
"You afraid of killing?"
He had stood over that little deer with his rifle and even though he was afraid, he did it anyway. He'd pulled the trigger and blown its brains out. That day, he became a killer.
He knew it would come to this. He too would fall to the endless cycle of violence and death. There would always be men like him in the world, men who lived by the creed of kill or be killed. He was a part of this unbreakable chain. It was his turn, he knew.
Let it come, Low-Light thought to himself. I'm not afraid to die. I ain't afraid of nothing.
He dimly perceived renewed shouting and gunfire, and the sound of squealing tires. He could not have known that at moment, Mainframe and Zarana had come charging in, in a Ford sedan and a blaze of gunfire. The attacking Vipers were caught completely by surprise.
There was a brief, uneasy silence after the last shot was fired. With Zarana remaining behind the wheel of the getaway vehicle, Mainframe raced across the lawn, shouting Low-Light's name. Mainframe leapt over the bushes in one hurdle, and within minutes, he was at Low-Light's side, trying to get him to his feet.
"Holy cow," Mainframe said as he noted Low-Light's injuries.
Low-Light grinned weakly.
"Looks like I'm not quite dead yet," he said.
"You're not going to die," Mainframe said as he began dragging him to a nearby gap in the bushes, where they would be able to reach the idling car, waiting on the lawn just outside of the ring of bushes.
"What's happened," Low-Light said in a dazed voice as he felt himself being dragged on his back by his shirt collar.
"It's all gone to shit," Mainframe said, "we've lost contact with everyone. It's every man for themselves now. All we can do now is get the hell out and meet back at the rendezvous point."
Of course. The rendezvous point. They both remembered the last time the surviving Joes had gathered together, just after the great Battle of Washington, DC. How many Joes would be there this time? It would be a miracle if anyone was even still alive after this catastrophe.
Zarana was waiting just beyond the bushes, firing a rifle through the driver's window at oncoming Cobras, providing cover fire for their getaway.
"Move it, Low-Light, on your feet soldier!"
Mainframe jerked Low-Light to his feet and together, they tumbled into the open back passenger door.
"Go, go, go!"
Mainframe hardly needed to tell Zarana to take off. She floored the gas pedal immediately, and the car took off, zigzagging wildly as Zarana swerved to avoid various piles of debris and dead bodies.
After a few bumps, they managed to make it back to the street, and Mainframe untangled himself from Low-Light. He sat up in the back seat and turned around. Someone was pursuing them at high speeds.
With a jolt of horror, Mainframe recognized their pursuer. It was the Dreadnok Thunder Machine. Thrasher was at the wheel, and Zartan was sitting in the passenger seat, yelling and gesticulating wildly to Thrasher, no doubt egging him on with the chase. Zartan pointed a submachine gun at them through the passenger's window and began spraying bullets at the fleeing vehicle.
"Zarana, its'-"
"I know," Zarana said. Her face was grim, and her eyes flashed back and forth from the rearview mirror. The frenzied car chase continued for several blocks, moving farther and farther away from the fortress.
The rear window shattered from the impact of Zartan's bullets, and both Mainframe and Zarana ducked their heads in reflex. Mainframe pulled out his handgun and looked to Low-Light. The Joe sniper was propped up in the back seat next to him, his head lolling back and forth. He appeared to have lost consciousness. Mainframe turned his attention back to the pursuing Thunder Machine and squeezed off a few rounds at the occupants.
Mainframe saw Thrasher's head jerk back, and he quickly perceived that he had managed to nail him. He barely had time to register a feeling of grim satisfaction. Zarana screamed as she swerved rapidly to avoid a collision with a bus in the middle of a four way intersection. The tires screeched madly as the vehicle swung around in a 90 degree angle and crashed into an oncoming car with a loud scream of tortured metal and broken glass. Another crash followed just seconds later as the Thunder Machine hurtled out of control into both vehicles.
* * *
"Blaine?"
Zarana weakly called out the name of her beloved as she regained consciousness. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but it couldn't have been long.
Must have blacked out, she thought. She winced and put a hand to her chest, where the driver's wheel had knocked the wind out of her. She didn't think anything was broken, but her chest now throbbed with pain. The right side of the car had smashed against a second vehicle. There was blood all over the driver's window of the second vehicle; evidently, whoever was driving that car had not survived. The Thunder Machine, wedged in an awkward angle between both vehicles, was a spectacular wreck as well. Slowly, Zarana opened the door on her side and tumbled out of the vehicle.
She took a quick look around. There was a crowd of onlookers, but no one was coming to help. There were no other Cobras in sight, either.
Zarana, feeling a terrible queasiness in her stomach, found the back passenger door on the left side and yanked it open.
"Blaine?"
Mainframe was unconscious. He did not appear to be bleeding from anywhere. Zarana could see the rise and fall of his chest as he lay sprawled across the back seat. Lying on top of him was the still, slumped-over body of Low- Light. Zarana could tell right away that Low-Light was dead. She knew even without reaching forward to try to push him off of Mainframe. His eyes were closed, and his face was serene.
"Zarana, is that you?"
Mainframe's voice was slurred and heavy. He appeared to be not quite with it at the moment. Zarana reached forward and grabbed him by the legs.
"Come on, Blaine, snap out of it, we've got to get out of here."
Zarana heard a footstep directly behind her and froze. She knew even without turning around. Her hand went to her pistol immediately.
"It's been a long time, dear sister," Zartan said coldly.
Slowly, Zarana turned to face her brother. The last time they had met, it had been on the Brooklyn Bridge, and she had kicked him in the stomach, allowing her and Mainframe to make their escape. She had been dreading this meeting ever since, wondering at how angry Zartan must be for her defection.
Now, the two siblings faced each other across the distance of a few feet, staggering to keep their balance like a pair of drunkards. Zartan's right eye was swollen shut, and his entire right face was bruised and bloodied. Nevertheless, he still managed to hold his pistol steady, aimed at Zarana's body. Zarana, for her part, had her gun trained directly at Zartan's head.
"Is this how it's going to end?" Zarana asked. "With us killing each other?"
"You caused this," Zartan said. "We'd won, and you had to go and screw it all up."
"I'm sorry," Zarana said. "I never meant to fall in love."
"You had a thing for him, all these years."
"I love him."
"What do you expect me to do, let you go?"
"Yes."
"And why would I do that?"
"You're still my brother, Zartan. You're my brother and I love you. And I'm the only sister you have."
"You're no sister of mine," Zartan said bitterly.
Brother and sister continued staring at each other, down the barrels of each other's pistols.
"I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do," Zarana said after the long silence. "I'm going to put my gun away, and I'm going to take Mainframe, and we're going to walk away from here."
They continued staring at each other. Zarana's expression softened, and perhaps her brother could tell from the look on her face, just how much she loved Mainframe, how she would have done anything for him, even if it meant doing the unthinkable and switching sides. Perhaps something in him at that moment stayed his hand, for reasons even he himself could not understand. He had never been in love. He could not know how Zarana was feeling. But something in him touched him, for one brief moment, and he felt compelled to listen to her.
"Perhaps we'll meet again," Zarana said. "And we'll be enemies again."
"When that happens, if I have to kill you, I will not hesitate," Zartan said. "Not for a second."
"And I will not hesitate, either," Zarana said. "Not for a second."
"If that's how it's going to be, so be it," Zartan said, "sister."
Zarana put her gun away and reached into the car for Mainframe. Mainframe, fully conscious, moaned and put a hand to his head as Zarana helped him out of the car and to his feet. Zarana, supporting Mainframe with one of his arms around her shoulders, looked up to Zartan one last time. He was still pointing his pistol at them.
"Goodbye, brother," Zarana said finally, as she turned away.
As Zarana and Mainframe limped away from the crash site, to freedom, she heard Zartan fire his gun three times into the air. For a moment, she felt a brief shudder, thinking that he had decided to shoot her, after all. But when she realized that she and Mainframe were still walking, she felt an upwelling of sadness. This was her brother. They had grown up and played together, fought with each other, ridden the mean streets together. She had an inescapable feeling that they would never meet again, and the thought brought a strange ache to her heart.