Freedom
Chapter 43
During the brief fight – if you can call it that – there had been no time to recognize that the suspiciously short soldier in black had a conspicuously generous bust. I'd been occupied with guns, knives, and martial arts skills almost to rival my own.
Now Velvet was lying in front of me with a broken neck. She had attacked me. There was no shortage of light. The sky overhead was dark and gray, but we could see. She would have recognized me, even in these clothes. I'd left the coat behind – there couldn't have been any confusion. It was impossible. She had seen me and tried to kill me. I'd jumped the gun a little when I knocked her pistol out of her hand, but instead of backing off she'd pulled a knife. How could I explain that? I couldn't.
I sat down against the wall in shock. I couldn't take my eyes off the corpse – and after six days in the Zone, I knew a corpse when I saw one. On impulse, I got up and crawled over to her to look more closely. It was her. There was no two ways about it. You don't forget Velvet's face once you've seen it.
I felt sick. I got up and staggered down the stairs. It was only the third floor – but it felt like I had to go down a long way to reach the ground. I bent over, but the nausea was content just to be there, so I straightened and staggered into the street, as though getting away from the building would help me breathe easier. It was snowing, and I began to hear a rumbling behind me.
As I turned, a sizeable tank rounded the corner. I'm not an expert on these things. I couldn't tell you what kind it was. It was big. It ground to a halt. The top – you know, the bit with the cannon, turned ponderously toward me. I'd just killed Velvet and I was about to get vaporized by a tank. Only one thing came to mind.
"Are you freaking serious?" I asked. My voice echoed in the empty street. Nothing happened for several moments.
A hatch on top of the tank opened, and a figure in black emerged – just shoulders and a head, hidden by a black mask and helmet. I stared at it. It stared back, then slumped over. I saw a trickle of blood run down the side of the tank.
There were running footsteps behind me. I turned. A figure was making its way toward me. It wore solid olive drab fatigues in a decidedly old-fashioned cut – like a World War II-era GI. And under the oversized, round, green GI helmet was blonde hair. I stared in disbelief. It was Velvet. There was a BAR slung over her shoulder, and on her narrow back, it looked frighteningly big. She appeared to be struggling with its weight.
She ran right up to me, grabbed me by the shoulder, and started dragging me out of the road. This couldn't be Velvet. Not just because Velvet was dead, but because Velvet doesn't touch people. She doesn't even like being near me. But here she was, if you'll pardon me, my shocked brain was thinking some peculiar things: large as life, twice as pretty.
She pulled me around the corner, pushed me against the wall, and leaned out to look at the tank. It just sat there.
A shot rang out somewhere in the distance, and she turned to look, but then looked back to me.
"Who the hell are you?"
I blinked down at her. "What?"
"What is your name? Where do you come from?"
I didn't get a chance to answer, or even process that – because someone started shooting at us. She pushed me down and pivoted, unslinging the BAR and opening fire. The recoil drove her back into the wall, where she slipped on the rubble and fell down.
I saw a black-armored figure emerge from an alley, but before it could open fire again, it dropped dead in the middle of the road. She had been masked, and the black fatigues were a little ambiguous – but the blonde hair and the figure are hard to hide. That was another Velvet, and I was ready to bet that had been one in the tank, too.
The – the, uh – GI Velvet was getting to her feet, grimacing in pain and rubbing her backside. She picked up her BAR and shouldered it, looking up and waving. A figure on a nearby rooftop waved back and disappeared.
"We can't talk here," she said, hustling me down the street. Her helmet kept slipping over her eyes.
There were running footsteps, and GI Velvet looked back in panic as yet another Velvet in black burst from an alley we'd just passed. I tensed – but GI Velvet relaxed. The newcomer fell into step, jogging along with us. She was wearing black, but it wasn't the ominous tactical gear the others wore. She had on a long black coat over black clothes. Her eyes were covered by sunglasses – but I recognized her easily enough. I decided this one was Matrix Velvet.
"Who the hell is this?" she panted.
"I don't know," GI Velvet replied. "We have to get him to the line."
"There's more than we thought."
"I can see that."
"Down!"
We dove behind a particularly large pile of rubble as something screamed past overhead. I didn't get a good look at it, but I thought it was some kind of unmanned drone.
GI Velvet swallowed. "That's not good."
"Where'd they get that kind of tech?" Matrix Velvet demanded.
"No time."
We were running again. I didn't say anything. What could I say? What would you say? Would I ask them who they were? I could see who they were. Whatever drugs I was on, I hoped I lived long enough to find out what they were.
A troop of black armored Velvets poured out of an alley ahead, and we skidded to a halt. They raised their weapons.
There was a sound that was, even under the circumstances, to me, unmistakable – the deployment of a lightsaber
A Velvet in Jedi robes sprang down between us and the troop of soldiers, charging straight into them. A couple of broad swings cut down half of them, and she whirled, throwing out a hand, pushing the rest off their feet. I didn't get to see any more, because GI and Matrix Velvets were dragging me up and away.
As we passed an alley, I saw a figure jump the gap high above, keeping pace with us on the rooftops.
"Who's that?"
They ignored me, steering me down a side street. I could hear something loud – but that's all I can tell you about it. It was loud. There was a burst of machine gun fire in the distance. We were approaching a wide street.
"Wait." Matrix Velvet dragged us both to a halt. She pressed herself to the side of the building and peered out. "No good," she reported.
"Can we go around?"
"And leave them here? Have you got smoke?"
GI Velvet nodded. "Just one."
"Do it."
She pulled the pin and threw it around the corner. I heard it begin to hiss. Matrix Velvet pulled off her sunglasses and tossed them aside, reaching up to smooth back her blonde hair. That done, she walked boldly around the corner, straight into a hail of gunfire.
"You are nothing to me!" She vanished without a trace – or I think she did, but I'm not sure, because suddenly GI Velvet and I were running through the smoke and trying to stay under all the bullets. I definitely heard some chaos from the direction of the shooters, but that was all I got before I was led through the wall of a bombed-out building and out the other side. From there it was an alley – then through another building. Then more running.
As a bomb exploded less than a block away, leveling an entire building, I didn't even think about it. I paid no attention as the structure crumbled in front of my eyes, throwing up great clouds of dust and debris, things I'd only seen in movies.
I didn't care, because I was in a war zone. A war zone populated by Velvets. Conspicuously recognizably dressed Velvets, no less. If that situation would have been comprehensible to you, then my hat's off – but it wasn't to me. I had no explanation for it. All I could do was run – following GI Velvet even deeper down the rabbit hole.