A/N
I said this last chapter, but I want to say it again. There is a lot of violence in this chapter and the next few chapters; in fact, this chapter certainly kicks things up a notch. So if you're uncomfortable with that stuff, you've been warned.
Chapter 47…
Ashley's cramped steel-toe boots were starting to come loose. But at the present moment her uncomfortable footwear was the least of her problems.
Problems? Well… she had a whole list of them…
First, there was the giant welt on the back of Ashley's shoulder. The dark haired woman's adrenaline was still pumping; but Ashley could feel the painful sting gnawing at her muscles.
Second, were the painkillers Ashley needed to keep the pain from the aforementioned welt at bay. There was no time for a drink of water so Ashley popped two of the pills in her mouth to eat them dry. The painkillers tasted foul and left an even worse taste in the back of Ashley's throat - but it was manageable.
Third, was the barrel of the pistol digging into her thigh. The dark haired woman had taken the time to gather up all of the weapons in her vicinity - including the stolen pistol she kept underneath the floorboards of her room. Thankfully, her jumpsuit came with many large pockets; but Ashley felt like she was walking with a bunch of stones tied to her. The R-101 was easily the heaviest out of Ashley's many new armaments; the weapon was dangling from her shoulder by its black strap.
"C- Can you please loosen up a little bit?"
Of course, Ashley couldn't forget about the man she was currently holding at knifepoint. He was a big problem in his own right.
"Shut up…" Ashley growled through gritted teeth. The foul tasting painkillers were still rolling around on her tongue. "Walk…"
Ashley and her hostage advanced down the main hallways of the inn. The dark haired woman was being cautious - having her hostage walk forwards with his back pressed against her chest. Ashley was holding a combat knife against his throat - her other hand occupied with the grip of her new R-101.
"I ask, you answer…" Ashley muttered in a low, dangerous tone. She and her hostage continued to walk down the length of the corridor. "Who are you and why are you here?"
"My name is J-"
Ashley surged her left leg up and delivered a vicious knee jab to the man's tailbone. The hostage cried out in pain and stumbled for a moment - quickly bracing himself so that his throat would not be drawn against Ashley's knife.
"I never asked for your name!" Ashley spat. "You and your buddies! Why are you here? How many of you are here? Talk!"
"What do you think?" Ashley's hostage spat through pained gasps. "Easy pickings!'
"What?"
"Sleepy little town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere…" The man continued, his voice strained. "Easy pickings…"
"You're wearing IMC gear…" Ashley narrowed her eyes. "Did you loot it?"
"Same armor I've worn since the IMC pulled out…" The hostage spat.
Ashley felt her pace quicken. "You… were left behind?"
"Of fucking course we were!" The man swore. He and Ashley had reached the end of the hallways and were entering the small lobby. "After Demeter, do you think the IMC command gave a shit about contractors like us?"
Ashley felt the man relax against the blade of her knife.
"Did you serve?"
"Huh?" Ashley responded.
"You took out Mark…" The man gasped. "And you know where to put that knife…"
Ashley hostage was clearly very observant. Underneath the razor sharp edge of Ashley's knife, the man's carotid artery pulsed in a steady rhythm.
"Shut up… I ask the questions here…" Ashley growled.
"That wasn't a no…" The man chuckled. "Militia? IMC? Independent?"
Ashley felt her face tighten a little. She looked to her left, where the reception desk for the inn sat. A pair of legs was sticking out from under the desk, along with a large smear of blood.
The men attacking the village had shot the clerk dead. Clearly they had no qualms about causing collateral damage...
"That's not your business…" Ashley sent another flying knee into the man's tailbone. The dark haired woman could feel anger simmering in her chest. "Out the door… now…"
Her hostage fell silent as Ashley pushed him towards the inn's front door. Over the distant gunfire Ashley could hear several voices outside.
"Truck's loaded and ready to go?"
"Are Mark and the other guys done in the inn yet? Told'em it was a waste of time, better pickings elsewhere…"
"Fuck'em…" A third voice warbled. "Help me get the generator on the back of this truck…"
Ashley paused by the closed front door of the inn. She tightened her grip on her hostage and raised her head to speak into his ear.
"Call them…" Was Ashley's one simple order.
"What?"
"You heard me…" Ashley hissed, her grip on her R-101 tightening. "Tell them to come to the door…"
Ashley pushed her R-101 forwards so that the barrel was pressed against the door. She moved her thumb upwards to flick off the weapon's safety switch.
"G- Guys!" Ashley's hostage yelled. The dark haired woman heard the voices outside the inn stop.
"James?" A voice called from outside. "What is it?"
"Bullshit them…" Ashley warned. "Do it…"
"Mark and I found a big sack of credits!" Ashley's hostage, or "James" as she now knew him, lied. "We're gonna need you three to help us!"
"Three!?" A voice from outside warbled. There was a worrying moment of silence before there was any more response. "Alright man... we're coming!"
James fell silent in Ashley's grasp. The woman tightened her grip even further on her R-101 - the barrel of the gun still resting against the door.
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
Ashley could hear several sets of boots stomping up the steps to the porch of the inn. The man she was holding a knife to the throat of was making whimpering noises.
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
The footsteps sounded like they were right in front of the door.
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
Taking a gamble, Ashley squeezed and held the R-101's trigger. The rifle screamed and roared as it emptied it's entire magazine in the span of just a few seconds. Over the gunfire, Ashley could hear panicked screams being cut short.
It was over in a moment and the gunsmoke was stinging Ashley's eyes and nose.
"Y- You-" Ashley's hostage stuttered.
"Open the door, James…" Ashley growled.
The man tentatively obeyed Ashley's command. He reached out a hand and pushed open the chewed up wooden door. Lying on the steps of the inn's porch were three mangled bodies; their armor may have been white once, but like the boards on the stairs, they were now stained red.
"You killed all three of them…" James whimpered. "You-"
He never got the chance to finish. One quick twist of Ashley's wrist drew the combat knife against his throat. There was a horrifying gurgling sound as the man's hands flew upwards to paw uselessly at his ruined windpipe.
"Four…" Ashley whispered. She raised her left leg and delivered a swift kick to her hostage's back. "James" fell forwards like a collapsing tower, rolling down the bloody steps and coming to a stop in the mud…
… he didn't get back up.
Her fingers quivering, Ashley took a few moments to breathe. The bloody knife was promptly wiped on her pant leg and slipped into a pocket. The rifle - empty - was left dangling from its shoulder strap.
Ashley could still feel anger simmering in her chest. The men she had just killed were not clad in IMC armor because they had looted it from somewhere - they had been IMC. The dark haired woman recalled her talk with Anatoly about Antheia's history… he had mentioned bandits…
Bandits moved in packs, they relied on strength in numbers rather than training. Ashley knew this well, there had been a time when the Frontier Militia had been nothing more than guerilla fighters. But the IMC contracted mercenaries - men and women who knew how to fight. If the men currently attacking Okraina were all former IMC, Ashley and the townsfolk would be up for a fight.
Having caught her breath and finished with her internal musings, Ashley took a few steps out of the inn and onto the porch. Her moment of peace was incredibly short lived; as only moments after leaving the inn did something hard and heavy barrel into Ashley's side.
The dark haired woman was lifted off her feet and sent flying off of the porch - along with whatever had barreled into her. She landed very painfully in the muddy alley next to the inn.
"The fuck?" Ashley hissed as she scrambled back to her feet. Her quick reaction time could be credited to her adrenaline.
The words had just barely left Ashley's mouth when a heavy fist mashed against her face. Her cheeks exploded into pain and Ashley was left reeling from the hit. Snapping her eyes back open, Ashley only just barely avoided another haymaker that would have shattered her nose.
There had been a fourth man by the truck…
Suddenly, Ashley didn't feel so bad about cutting "James" throat. The man had been more clever than Ashley realized… alerting his cohorts of a problem through a vague request.
"Come here, bitch…" Ashley's challenger spat. The man was built like a brickhouse and had a face like a stone wall. His shirt sleeves had been ripped off, leaving his burly arms bare.
Ashley avoided a grab and retaliated with the butt of her R-101. The weapon was completely empty, but it's considerable weight and sharp dimensions made it a decent club. Ashley's opponent dodged low to avoid the rifle swing, but could not avoid the jab Ashley followed up with.
The man screamed as the still-hot barrel of the R-101 sliced into the skin of his cheek. While the metal had cooled down a little, it was still hot enough to burn bare skin. Ashley kept up her assault, tearing the rifle back towards her and bringing it down in an overhead crack.
Unfortunately for Ashley, the hit wasn't as effective as she hoped it would be. The weapon smacked against the man's helmet - which certainly wasn't comfortable - but the headgear cushioned the blow.
"That all you got?" The man spat as he lowered himself into a shoulder charge. Ashley tried to worm one of her new pistols out of her pocket, but the weapon was sent flying out of her grasp when the man barreled into her. He was like a charging bull, throwing his weight into the strike and keeping low to the ground. The hit was so powerful that it sent Ashley stumbling backwards - her lower back smacking painfully against the engine bay of a truck.
Ashley only had moments to get her bearings. Her opponent had shoved her against the engine bay of a parked pickup truck. The hood had been popped open and was resting on the pull-out safety stand. Judging from the vibrations Ashley could feel, the engine was running.
Once again, Ashley's opponent surged forwards in a shoulder charge. The dark haired woman had the chance to jump out of the way but didn't. Her opponent was a whole head taller than her and twice as wide - there was no chance that she could match him in a fair fight.
But who ever said that fights had to be fair?
Ashley threw her forearms up in front of her face to deflect the man's hands away. The move was not successful, as Ashley's opponent followed up with a headbutt that left Ashley's vision spinning. The dark haired woman gasped as a pair of hands squeezed around her throat; for the second time that night Ashley was being strangled.
"You're kind of pretty…" The man licked his lips as he choked Ashley. He was even uglier up close - his squashed nose and pig like eyes filling Ashley's vision. "Might just keep you alive… have some fun with you later…"
Ashley kept one hand on her throat and moved the other one down…
'Inhale…..exhale…...inhale…...exhale…'
"I always liked dark haired girls…" The man chuckled - a repulsive sound.
Ashley's hand wormed its way into her pocket…
'...inhale…..exhale….'
"It's gonna be fun hearing you-" The man was stopped in his tracks, a shocked expression taking hold on his features. A rattling gurgle escaped from his mouth as he turned his wide eyes down towards his hips.
Protruding from his crotch was the hilt of a combat knife…
The man howled like a banshee as his hands flew off of Ashley's neck. He sobbed ugly tears as he tenderly reached down to grip the knife sticking out of his crotch.
"Fuck…" Ashley panted, her face red with rage. "You…"
With an animalistic roar, Ashley shot her scarred hands forwards and gripped the screaming man around the back of his neck. She sidestepped out of the way and slammed his head down into the truck's engine bay.
The screams of Ashley's opponent intensified as his cheek was pushed against the engine's rapidly moving running belt. The dark haired woman released her grip on his neck and flung her hand to the side to knock away the hood's safety bar. As a result, the truck's hood collapsed and landed on the man's head.
But Ashley wasn't done… she worked her fingers underneath the hood panel and lifted it back up… only to slam it back down…
And again…
And again…
Five hits in and the man was sounding weaker…
Ten hits in and he stopped making noise all together…
Fifteen hits in and the man went slack…
Ashley could feel herself quivering as she pressed the hood down on the man's head. Her arms and legs felt like jelly, and the dark haired woman collapsed to the ground to catch her breath. The welt on the back of Ashley's shoulder felt like it was on fire.
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
Ashley quickly fell back into her practiced breathing pattern. She could feel the sweat around her limbs and the warm, sticky blood coating her hands.
For the first time in a while… Ashley was surrounded by carnage…
With a groan, the dark haired woman stood herself back up. She could still hear gunfire and screaming - and the scent of smoke was hanging in the air.
Taking a moment to gather whatever she could… Ashley stumbled off towards the one place in town she was sure that she could find safety…
Ashley was being very careful as she moved through the town. The dark haired woman stuck to the back alleys and side streets as best as she could.
All around her were the sounds of screams, gunfire, and the rumbling drone of nearby truck engines.
Speaking of trucks… there was one nearby…
Ashley heard and felt the rumbling of wheels on the road next to her. The woman had quickly jumped into the roadside ditch at the first sign of trouble. It had been a desperate, dirty maneuver… but it had kept her out of sight…
At the bottom of the ditch was a cold, shallow puddle. Ashley wormed her way into the muck without hesitation - trusting in the mud now staining her skin and clothes to keep her concealed.
"-they still having trouble at the bar?" A voice asked from above. Ashley noticed the man's lack of accent.
"Course they are…" Another voice huffed over the rumbling wheels of a truck. "McGraw and Wei got dropped the moment they tried to bust in… it's a standoff now…"
Ashley blinked the mud out of her eyes and continued to listen in.
"Whatever, never liked those assholes anyways…"
"That's cold man…" The second voice muttered. "Real cold…"
"Yeah? McGraw was a lazy asshole and Wei hogged all the recreational painkillers…" The first voice complained. "Nearly resorted to drinking river water to get high… or just to alleviate boredom…"
The rumbling of the truck grew quieter as it continued down the road. Soon, Ashley could hear neither the truck nor its guards.
Slowly, hesitantly… Ashley arose from the muck-filled ditch…
By this point her jumpsuit was a sopping wet mess of muck - as was any and all skin below her neckline. Ashley had been careful to keep her mouth shut when in the puddle.
"Bar…" Ashley whispered under her breath. Her voice cracked slightly under the strain that she was feeling at the moment.
Crawling out from the ditch, Ashley took a moment to readjust her new equipment. She had snagged whatever he could from the altercation outside the inn; whatever she couldn't carry she hid underneath the building's porch. At the present moment, her pockets were stuffed with pistols and ammunition magazines; while an extra R-101 was hanging off of her good shoulder.
Ashley broke into a lopsided sprint and continued onwards to her destination. Her very first idea had been to head towards Dema's bar. The surly bartender was the only person in town Ashley knew who owned a gun; that, and her newfound enemies complaints about an ongoing standoff at the bar raised Ashley's hopes a little.
The dark haired woman quickly darted off of the street and into the alleyways between Okraina's wooden buildings. She stepped over bodies as she went - all dressed in civilian clothing.
These raiders… didn't seem all that concerned with taking over the town. The trucks they were using were no doubt loaded down with loot.
"Nighttime raid…" Ashley huffed as she maneuvered around a corner. "Common tactic…"
It was, a nighttime raid wasn't anything well thought out or spectacular. Still, judging by the amount of hostiles and the equipment they possessed - the plan was so-far successful…
Ashley ceased her internal musings and slowed down to a crouch. The mouth of the alleyway she was in was dead ahead, and Dema's bar would be right across the street.
And just like Ashley had heard about… there was a standoff…
Parked in front of the steps to the bar was a pickup truck. It looked far sleeker and modern than the rust buckets that dominated the streets of Okraina. The wheels were thick and built for mud; the rivets and sheets bolted to the frame betrayed armor plating; and the faded white and black colour scheme told Ashley that the truck had once belonged to the IMC.
What really concerned Ashley, however, was the top of the vehicle. Resting in the bucket and attached to the cap was a swiveling arm; atop this arm rested a bolted-on Spitfire light machine gun. There was, of course, a gunner standing in the bucket with his finger on the trigger - the barrel of the hefty machine gun pointed straight at the doors of the bar.
Around the armored technical stood at least six other men. Five of them were standing at the ready with their rifles at the ready. The sixth had clearly taken the initiative to threaten the occupants of the bar.
It was difficult for Ashley to hear what was being said, so the woman crept closer. She flattened herself into a prone position and crawled underneath the porches of the nearby buildings.
"-know you're in there and I know that you can hear me…" The man threatening the bar occupants cried out. "Now I can have my guys shoot up your bar… but let's be honest… none of us want to destroy all the quality hooch you've got in there…"
The other men around the truck chuckled.
"Now, you did kill two of us…" The man continued, his arms held aloft as he paced around. "And I believe in an eye for an eye… and a little more… so…"
Ashley squinted to look at the doors of the bar. Sprawled out near the door were two dead bodies, each clad in long worn-out IMC armor.
'McGraw and Wei?'
"I'll let you guys pick out four of you from the bunch…" The leader chuckled. "We're going to kill whichever four you choose… but the rest of you can go free…"
Ashley resisted the urge to scoff, the man was a bad liar…
"I'm going to give you… five minutes… to sort yourself out…" The man finished.
Five minutes was all Ashley was going to need…
Still prone underneath a porch, Ashley began unloading as much weight as she could. One of her R-101s was tucked into the dirt, along with several pistols and most of her ammunition.
Ashley drew her knife as she crawled out from underneath the porch. There was no possible way she could take all six men by herself. If she had access to a jumpkit… maybe the odds would be stacked in her favour; but Ashley no longer had access to a jumpkit… she was just as grounded as everyone else.
Ashley's first target was chosen simply because he was the closest to her. One of the men had broken off from the pack to pace down the length of the street. He didn't see Ashley coming and he certainly didn't see the knife in her hand...
The dark haired woman left his body in the mud… her plan relied on being quick, she had no time to stash away his body…
Ashley was almost out of breath as she reached the back of the armored technical. She clambered up into the bed of the truck as slowly and silently as she could. The truck's suspension shifted as Ashley's weight pressed down on the back bumper; the woman was swearing under her breath the entire time.
She was lucky though… the raider manning the spitfire was oblivious to Ashley's creeping advance. He too did not see Ashley coming…
The dark haired woman released a quiet, shuddering breath as the man died in her arms. Her hands were slick with warm blood, and the knife she was holding was so badly stained that she wasn't sure where the blade began and the grip ended…
With a quiet heave, Ashley slowly lowered the dead gunner onto the bed of the pickup…
"Last thirty seconds!" The leader cried out, tapping the face of his watch. "I hope that you people made the sensible choice! We're going to open fire if you didn't!"
Ashley wrapped her bloody hands around the grip of the Spitfire. She swiveled the heavy weapon downwards. The remaining five men around the truck were oblivious to Ashley's presence.
"Ten seconds!"
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
"Five seconds!"
Ashley double checked the Spitfire's safety…
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
"Times up!" The leader spat. "Fire!"
Ashley did exactly as the man requested. The dark haired woman squeezed the trigger on the Spitfire and swung the weapon in a low arc. Screams were quickly cut short as the men were taken by surprise - their flesh and armor ripped apart by the storm of high velocity rounds.
The dark haired woman squeezed the gun until it was empty and quickly fell to one knee. Partially because her ears were ringing, and partially to avoid any retaliation in case any of the men survived…
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
Ashley couldn't hear any more movement…
'Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…'
There was a weak groan coming from the ground… Ashley's eyes narrowed in response...
Eyes as black as obsidian glass peered up over the fenders of the technical. Ashley observed the five dead bodies surrounding the truck…
There was another weak groan…
Scratch that, four dead bodies…
By some stretch of irony, the leader of the small raiding crew had survived. His legs were a mess of gore from the Spitfire's heavy rounds; but his upper body and major organs had been spared from the onslaught.
With a huff, Ashley hopped from the bed of the truck and landed on the muddy ground. She slowly marched up the steps to the inn, grabbing the wounded man by the scruff of his neck and dragging him along her with.
Weak hands pawed at Ashley's iron grip, but the woman ignored it.
"It's Ishikara!" Ashley yelled at the closed doors of the bar. "I took care of them all… but I need to know that I'm not going to get shot if I come in!"
There was a moment of silence and Ashley suffered through it. She was exposed, standing clearly on the porch - a perfect target for mistaken gunfire.
"Come in!" A gruff voice echoed from inside the bar. "Slowly!"
"Will do!" Ashley called back, relief flooding her system.
Still dragging the wounded man, Ashley parted the doors of the bar and strode in.
To Ashley's surprise… the bar was almost full…
The occupants were a motley bunch, but Ashley recognized them as her fellow townspeople. Some were dressed in their nighttime clothes - no doubt having been roused from their beds by the fighting. Others were dressed in their daily garb - quite possibly patrons who had decided to stick inside the bar for its relative safety…
Dominating this small sea of frightened townsfolk was a single tall man. Dema's towering form stood behind the bar; a shotgun in his hands and a foul look twisting his hard features.
"You look like shit, Ashley…" Dema drawled in his heavy accent. The man tentatively lowered his gun - which took a bit longer than Ashley was comfortable with. "Who is your… plus one?"
"The guy counting down…" Ashley muttered. The woman unceremoniously dropped the wounded man to the floor. "He survived…"
"So you brought him in here?"
"I figured that he could get us some answers…" Ashley explained. The dark haired woman lifted her head and swept her vision around the bar. "Could you tell them that there are plenty of weapons outside? I stashed some more under the porch of the building across the street…"
Dema crossed his arms and nodded. Slamming his fists down on the bar to get everyone's attention, Deman barked something in Russian. Almost immediately, several of the burlier men in the crowd rushed outside.
"Bring me that chair…" Dema growled, his thick finger pointing at a nearby chair. "Put it in the center…"
Ashley did as requested and grabbed the indicated chair. She dragged the piece of furniture into the center of the room.
"Now hoist our new friend into it…" Dema indicated. The burly man then turned around to peruse the large shelf of liquor he kept behind the bar. His burly finger traced along several of the top shelf bottles before moving low to snatch a low quality bottle of booze.
As Dema walked around the bar, Ashley carefully hoisted their new hostage into the seat. Deep down, the dark haired woman felt a pang of sympathy for the man…
… then she remembered the bodies she had seen, and that pang of sympathy was promptly smothered.
"I hate to do this in front of a woman…" Dema mumbled in a tone that was unlike him.
"This woman just killed quite a few of this guy's friends…" Ashley crossed her arms.
"How interesting… that a simple machine operator would be so comfortable making that statement…" Dema clicked his tongue. He observed Ashley with hard eyes and the dark haired woman felt herself quiver a little.
If Dema suspected anything, he didn't say it, instead turning his attention to the matter at hand. The man barked something in Russian and the crowd of onlookers turned away.
"Now… you…" Dema pressed himself forwards. The man's burly fingers gripped the top of the bottle of alcohol he had grabbed; with a slight twist the container was uncorked. "It has been some time since we had to deal with you people…"
Ashley raised an eyebrow.
"Banditskaya svoloch," Dema growled. "Were you not satisfied the night you came a year ago? To steal our crops? Perhaps you are no longer IMC but you still take like they did…"
Ashley felt a nervous bubble in her stomach. She crossed her arms tighter against her chest.
"But why did you come tonight?" Dema muttered. The man tipped the uncorked bottle forwards and dribble of alcohol landed in the fresh wounds on their captives legs.
There was a howl of agony from the man in the chair. His legs were ruined beyond any hope of repair - there was no way he could avoid the pain.
"Answer… and I make the pain stop…" Dema hissed. "You think you are the first man that I have done this to? I tortured plenty back when we were driving you scum from this planet…"
Dema tipped the bottle forwards to spill more alcohol on the man's wounds. Ashley grit her teeth and tried her best to drown out the screams.
How long had it been since Ashley had been in this position? Standing by while others suffered. It wasn't the first time she had stood by while another was tortured; the IMC had been rather… heavy handed… when first rooting out signs of resistance on the Frontier…
She hadn't enjoyed it then, and she wasn't enjoying it now…
"Believe me… I take little pleasure in this," Dema scowled. "Talk… and I make the pain stop-"
"We came for the titan!" The man in the chair cried. He flung his arms out uselessly to his sides. "We saw that you got it working again… 'figured the town would be easy pickings too…"
"Ah…" Dema's eyes lit up. "The titan…"
Contrary to what he had said before, Dema tipped the bottle forwards again. This motion was interrupted by Ashley, who shot a hand out to grab the neck of the bottle.
"He talked already…" Ashley growled, staring Dema dead in the eyes. "Leave him be…"
"Hmpth…" Dema huffed. The man wordlessly tilted the bottle back upwards into an upright position. "Fine…"
Dema turned back to the broken man in the chair. "How many of you are here? In the town?"
"Ugh…" The man groaned. "Thirty… maybe forty of us…?"
"I took out…" Ashley pondered for a moment. "Fourteen of them…"
"Fourteen?" Dema scoffed. "On your own?"
Ashley gave the man a dark look. Knowing that she had no other choice, the woman pursed her lips.
"Later…" She whispered.
Dema gave Ashley a hard look but did not press the issue further. "Where did you leave the titan?"
"Back at the mill…"
"Go get the titan. I don't know what they plan to do with it… but it cannot be good..." Dema muttered. The man then turned back towards the man in the chair. "I can… dispose... of this one…"
"Alright…" Ashley nodded. She jerked her head in the direction of the bar's other occupants. "And these people?"
"I will keep them safe…" Dema responded. "Now go!"
Without another word, Ashley darted in the direction of the bar's door.
"Wait!"
Ashley stopped in her tracks and whirled around. Her eyes widened and her hand shot up to quickly catch the handheld radio Dema had tossed in her direction.
"Keep me informed…" Dema scowled.
Ashley nodded at the man and darted out through the doors...