Author's note: Hey, this chapter's a little shorter than the others, but given what its about, I don't think there's much point in trying to extend it.

Abigail stands in the middle of the street while the masked Vox soldiers approach, her mind racing as she struggles to come up with some sort of plan. The squad's made up of five masked men, plus the pilot who'd just jumped from the barge. All carry Repeaters or Burstguns.

The soldier who'd jumped from the barge first takes point, and comes up to her while the rest of the squad fans out some, Abigail noticing they're watching the windows and doors along the street. She hopes they're just being cautious.

"Hey, girlie," Abigail turns her attention back to the squad's point man, his brusque voice muffled by the thick mask, "Where's the rest of yer people? We'd been told ta' pick up eight of you and a Patriot."

"Wiped out." She keeps her voice quiet, Abigail hoping to keep her apprehension from showing. "B-… the False Shepherd came through, and the others… went after him and the Lamb. They told me ta' stay put, and they never came back…"

The soldier stares at her from behind the mask, and Abigail stares right back, not wanting to look suspicious; she'd had enough close calls with questions about her loyalty, and she scarcely wants another. Slowly, after nearly a minute of tense silence, the point man nods, "Alright, then. Get yerself aboard, we're headed for the airships after a couple a' stragglers get here."

"Airship?" Abigail's eyes widen in surprise, the words slipping out as her heart sinks; a Vox-controlled airship's no place to bring the family. "W-why?"

"Dunno exactly, but word is we're preparin' to make a final push on Comstock House. Been a tough nut to crack so far, but the Prophet's definitely inside; his airship's docked there. We're takin' it, and his pelt tonight!"

A cheer goes up among the other soldiers, and Abigail groans slightly, "Definitely no place for 'em." Abigail glances over at the store the family is hiding in, or at least trying to; she can make out the mother hurrying her children behind the counter.

"What're ya… whoa!" Abigail snaps her gaze back to the point man and curses beneath her breath; he'd followed her gaze, and is now staring directly at the family's hiding spot. "O'Malley, McCarthy! Get those-"

Her Repeater is up before he gets the first word out, the barrel digging into his sternum before he finishes, cutting the soldier off. "Leave. Them. Alone."

Her voice is deathly quiet, slow and deliberate as Abigail stares back at the point man, cold anger swirling up from within. She can only imagine the look she's giving him, for he hesitates and falls silent. The soldiers he'd called look over as they start towards the shop, but the point man is between them and her. Abigail gets a quick look at the pair as they slow to a stop, and she sees the same look in their faces as she did in her own squad mates' earlier.

Finally, the soldier looks down at the weapon pressed against his chest, "You turnin' on us, girlie?"

"That family's under my protection. If your intent's ta' harm 'em," she glares at the soldier, her quite voice practically burning with ill-concealed anger, "then yes, I'm turnin' against ya'."

She can almost see the point man seething beneath his mask, his shoulders shaking with rage as he brings his gaze up to meet hers. Abigail can read the writing on the wall, and she breathes a curse, "Dammit…"

"Traito-!" The report of the Repeater silences the soldier, his body crumpling on the street with three gaping wounds in his chest.

"I did it…" The thought crosses Abigail's mind as she watches him fall, the ease with which she'd done the deed drawing a mirthless grin across her face; there's no turning back now. Tearing her gaze from the corpse as it hits the ground, Abigail moves even as she begins to process her situation; the rest of the Vox stare back at her in shock, their weapons just starting to swing her way. Her left hand is up before the first of many shouts break the silence.

"Ya' want blood? Here!" Blackened, hooked claws spring from her fingertips and dark feathers cover her hand as Abigail calls upon her Vigor. Shouting turns into screaming as swarms of angrily cawing crows descend upon the Vox squad, the birds clawing and pecking each and every soldier bloody. Abigail can only stare in horror, transfixed by the carnage she'd wrought.

But the hesitation only lasts a moment, Abigail shaking herself aware as she reminds herself what was about to happen. The anger returns, coursing through her as Abigail brings the Repeater to bear and squeezes the trigger. The nearest Vox catches a quartet of bullets, the first tearing into his shoulder before the rest trace a path along his collar and up to his throat.

Bullets whiz past Abigail, forcing the redhead to duck to the left and run, she snapping off a short burst as she goes and hearing a pained cry for her effort. From the corner of her eye as she takes cover behind the Market District archway, Abigail notices that most of the crows had already dispersed, the remaining Vox rallying even though a handful of birds still peck and claw at them. Of the original six, only three remain standing, her last burst catching the hapless pilot in the stomach.

And then all three open fire, Abigail hitting the deck on instinct as bullets pang off the metal and shatter the green-tinted glass of her hiding spot. With glass raining down all around her, Abigail pushes herself up to crouch behind the archway's stone pillar, trying to get a shot off but nearly always being forced back into cover.

"Son of a…" Peeking out from behind the pillar, Abigail curses as she jerks back to avoid being shot; the soldiers are advancing on her position. What's worse, they're alternating fire, always one able to take a shot while the others reload. "And," she chuckles as she thinks, "they spread out so the crows won't get em' all at once."

"I need ta' move… I could run…" Abigail glances down the street leading back to Market District, but she slowly shakes her head, "No… can't run. I'd be leaving the babes at the mercy of this lot…" Looking up at the sky and resting the back of her head against the pillar, Abigail groans as hopelessness starts to take hold, "What should I do… what would he…"

An eerie sense of calm settles over Abigail as an idea comes to mind. Not a smart idea, not even a safe one, but for some reason, Abigail thinks it'll work. "Still got my Vigor, after all..." Rising to her feet, Abigail breathes a deep, slow breath, calling on the Vigor once more.

Dashing out of cover, Abigail sprints straight at the rightmost Vox, gritting her teeth as she tries to fire the Repeater one-handed. Bullets whiz by all around her like bees from hell, but Abigail pays them no mind. Even when one of tears into the soft flesh of her left shoulder, leaving a long, angry looking gouge.

'Click'. The soldier she's charging lowers his weapon, fumbling for a new clip even as the others resume firing. Just as Abigail hoped; her left hand comes up again, dark feathers and claws sprouting as she summons the crows. But she doesn't target the Vox she's charging; Abigail swings to the left, her outstretched hand directed at the other two.

Piercing screams replace the harsh reports of a Burstgun and Repeater, the murder of crows returning to peck at the solders' already ravaged skin. "It's just you an' I now, friend!" This time, Abigail doesn't spare the swarming crows a second glance, yelling instead as she charges. She can clearly see panic in her target; his hands shake as he tries to reload, looking up at her and back to the weapon frantically.

Slipping the Repeater's makeshift strap from her shoulder, Abigail roars as she slams the stock into the panicking soldier's jaw. A crunching sound emanates from beneath the mask, but Abigail's already turned away as the soldier falls, firing into the mass of crows until another pair of corpses fall atop the flagstone paved street.

"Oh my God…" Doubling over, Abigail drops the Repeater, out of breath and panting hard. The calm that'd come over her has vanished, leaving Abigail with the enormity of what she'd done; she'd finally betrayed the Vox Populi proper. Up until now, she'd only subverted her companions' bloodlust, but now… now it's official. She'd been right at the onset of the fight; this was the point of no return, and she'd gladly stepped past it. "Had ta' be done… right?"

A groan catches her ear, Abigail straightening after a concerted effort only to groan herself; the Vox soldiers whose face she'd rearranged with the butt of the Repeater stirs, trying to rise. But it's what he's reaching for that really gets her attention; a Burstgun, dropped by one of the soldier's dead comrades.

One last shot rings throughout Market District.

"I… I'm sorry…"

"What're you sorry for?" Abigail glances back at the woman. She'd spent the last few minutes dragging the fallen soldiers out of the sun, paying final respects of a sort to those she'd once considered comrades. For reasons she didn't quite understand, the woman had emerged from the store and stood nearby, watching quietly.

"You had to do… this… for us, Ms. Abigail…" The mother nods at the soldiers.

"Yeah… but it ain't your fault. Couldn't let them harm ya' or the kids…" Abigail shrugs, reaching back and drawing her braid to hang over her shoulder.

"Abigail?"

The young redhead freezes just as she's crossing the last soldier's arms. Turning slowly, Abigail groans again as she lays eyes on the speaker, "Vivian?"

Vivian Monroe stops in her tracks as she rounds the corner, her expression quickly twisting into one of shock and horror as she spots the bodies. Her mask is gone, the cowl and crown along with it, and her normally tidy hair looks disheveled. She has a handful of scrapes but nothing serious, and Abigail can't help but feel relieved.

"Wh… why? You… you killed all of them?!" Vivian's Hand Cannon rests by her side, her grip on the weapon visibly loose. Probably form the shock, Abigail decides, but that won't last long.

"Vivian, listen to me." Abigail carefully unslings her Repeater, dropping the weapon as she takes a step towards her friend, "This woman and her family don't deserve what's been happening. And they," Abigail motions towards the slain squad, "were going to do… things, to them. I'm certain of it."

"Th-the barge is here, they'd have just taken them…"

"They were headin' to the airships. Ya' think they were gonna take a Ma and her babes somewhere safe?" She shakes her head, stepping ever closer, "Viv, I know you're a believer, but this… this is wrong. Daisy didn't want this, not any of it…"

"You lie… Daisy wanted to kill all the Founders! You know what she did to Fink, and was going to do to his boy…" Vivian's spits back, her eyes suddenly ablaze as she defends Daisy's actions, and her motives. Her grip on her Hand Cannon is suddenly anything but weak.

"No, she didn't…" Abigail shakes her head, her braid falling from her shoulder, "I… I was listening in at the airship docks, just before she killed Fink." A lie, but the fragment of memory from Booker… no, Elizabeth's perspective, made it feel true enough, "She was talking with two others. She didn't want to hurt the boy, but they bade her to give the Lamb no choice… to make her into a woman. Daisy gave up her life so Comstock would fall, Vivian. So that Elizabeth would have the strength to see it through."

Abigail stops just out of arm's reach of Vivian, the conflicting emotions she can see on her friend's face giving the redhead a glimmer of hope. She still has enough Salts left to use her Vigor one last time, she can feel it, but Abigail truly hopes she doesn't have to hurt her friend. Looking Vivian in the eye, Abigail manages a smile, "I've got ta' take em' someplace safe. I swore that I would. Come with me, Viv." Slowly, Abigail offers Vivian her hand, the smile still on her face.

A tear runs down Vivian's cheek as a shuddering sigh escapes her, and she holsters her weapon before hesitantly reaching for Abigail's outstretched hand, "A-alright…" A timid smile appears as she takes Abigail's hand.

Abigail feels her smile grow as she exhales sharply, a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Oh, thank God… I'm so glad you said yes…" She nearly pitches forward, only managing to stay upright through sheer force of will; with the tension gone, all Abigail's got almost nothing left. "C'mon, let's get outta here…"

Vivian nods, tightening her grip on Abigail's hand even though her manner is still otherwise hesitant, "I don't kno- look out!"

Cawing fills Abigail's ears even as Mary and Peter's mother screams and Vivian shouts, her friend grabbing her by the shoulder and pushing her aside. As she falls away, Abigail turns in time to see the source of the noise; another swarm of crows slam into Vivian, the birds melting away into a figure clad in blood red robes and a pointed, face concealing hood. A flash of light glints off something metal as it swings down, and Vivian screams.

Rolling to a stop, Abigail pushes herself to her feet while drawing her Hand Cannon, bringing the weapon to bear only to freeze. Vivian lies in a heap on the flagstones at her attacker's feet, clutching at a slash across her shoulder. "Betrayer! You betray us, just like the False Prophet! Goddamn deceiver! " The man who'd attacked Vivian turns to Abigail, raising his longsword threateningly towards her.

"Crow. Just perfect…" Abigail grits her teeth as she growls, looking her enemy over; the Zealot wears the uniform of his former order, a sword emblazoned on his mask, and a large coffin is chained to his back. The tip of his sword drips with Vivian's blood. "Get inside." Abigail hisses, and the mother runs back into the shop.

"Die!" The Zealot melts into a charging swarm of crows, Abigail barely managing to dash out of the way as the longsword slams into the wall behind her. Abigail spins about as she goes, backpedalling and snapping off a pair of shot as she tries to get some distance between her and the crazed Crow. But the bullets pass right through him as the Zealot turns into a cawing flock of crows again, flying straight for her.

"Dammit!" Dodging to her left again, Abigail barely manages to avoid the blade as it swoops at her head, scrambling beneath it and past the deranged Crow. "Ya just had ta' pop up now, ya' crazy piece of shit!?" The Vigor comes to life as she rages, roaring at the Zealot as she releases her own murder of crows.

But the Zealot barely notices the birds whirling around him, "She demands pain of death for all betrayers and pretenders, traitor!" The Zealot screams as he swings his longsword with reckless abandon, Abigail jumping back. But she's not quite fast enough; the razor edged tip draws a line of pain across her cheek, tracing burning agony from just past the corner of her right eye down to her jaw.

"D-dammit! Why aren't the crows working!?" Abigail curses as she ducks the blade again, trying to keep from screaming as the Zealot continues his assault, "Goddamn Crow!" She fire off another shot, the Zealot discorporating into a swarm of birds again and giving her a moment to breathe.

"Abby…" Vivian whispers, Abigail whipping around to find she's practically kneeling beside her friend, her voice weak and full of pain. Her eyes widen as Vivian struggles to draw her Hand Cannon only to have it fall to the ground, the effort leaving her spent.

Glancing back at the Zealot as he reforms, Abigail bolts for Vivian's weapon, grabbing the Hand Cannon while bringing her own to bear. But when she fires, her shot goes wide. The Zealot screams at her again as he raises his longsword overhead.

"Now the both of you die!"

Time seems to slow, Abigail watching the Zealot's blade arcing down towards her in slow motion. With Vivian at her back, Abigail can't run without leaving her friend to die, and she knows it. "Son of a…" With a Hand Cannon in each hand, Abigail screams back, raising both weapons as the blade comes down.

A clang of metal striking metal rings throughout the street, Abigail crossing the Hand Cannons and blocking the blade just long enough to parry the blow. Looking up into the Zealot's masked face, Abigail stares into his hate-filled eyes, growling, "Dodge this." She buries the Hand Cannons into his gut, squeezing the triggers as fast as she can.

Blood drips from the Zealot's mask and down her Hand Cannons, his eyes transforming from bearing fervid hatred to a look of incredible pain. The sword falls from his hands as the Zealot stumbles back, holding his bullet-riddled stomach and looking down, almost as if in disbelief. Abigail pushes herself to her feet, her weapons still raised as she stares at the Zealot.

"… you'll never escape…" The Crow falls as he spits the words.

"Son of a…" Abigail groans as she reaches for the cut on her cheek, wincing for a moment before breathing a sigh of relief. But the relief's short-lived, Abigail whipping around and kneeling to check on her friend.

Vivian's breathing is shallow but steady, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused. "But… that's a lot of blood…" Rolling Vivian over, Abigail's eyes widen as she sees the amount of blood ebbing from the gash in her shoulder, "I-I gotta stop it…"

"Here," Abigail whips around only to find Mary's mother standing behind her, strips of cloth torn from her skirt in hand, "press these against the wound until the bleeding stops. Just keep pressure on the wound."

"H-how do you know that?" Taking the offered cloth, Abigail does as the woman says even as she asks.

"My husband is… was… a doctor. I've learned a thing or two from him." A small smile touches the woman's lips, and both she and Abigail turn their attention to tending Vivian's wound.

Closing words: So, her day did get a lot worse. Fight scenes aren't the easiest thing to write, but I hope this chapter was enjoyable, even though that's pretty much all that happened. As usual, any feedback is welcome, so please feel free. I'll be fixing any errors I find as I go, too.

Edit: For the record, the assault mentioned isn't the one experienced by Booker and Elizabeth, that one's a hell of a way down the line (voxophone dates place it on, more than likely, December 23rd or shortly after.)