Part 4: Trial by Fire
So this is Fontaine Futuristics, David thought to himself as he emerged from the ocean. Frankly he had expected something a bit more impressive. The room he emerged into was almost identical to the lab, only on a much larger scale. The walls and floor were tiled, and the roof was made of steel with large I-beams stretching from one wall to the other. Lights flickered dimly, offering little more illumination than the steady glow of the ocean. It reminded David of some sunken warship, a dreadnaught lost at the bottom of the sea.
A screech suddenly tore through the silence, reverberating off the walls and echoing from beyond the room he occupied. The former assassin had to fight his nerves to keep from jumping. Instead, he pivoted around a nearby I-beam that had fallen to form a bridge between the floor and the rafters. The sound had come from beyond a set of heavy doors at the other end of the room. Doors that were labeled Train station with a glowing sign.
"Let's go boys," a voice sounded from beyond the doors. Even through the walls David could sense something wrong with the speaker. It wasn't just that it was inhuman and ragged. There was a cruelty, an unnamable factor that spoke of savagery and violence. While the man behind the voice was a stranger, the tone was familiar. As a former employee of Andrew Ryan, he had encountered the kind of man who spoke the same. They were killers. The man was a killer. They didn't do it for money or survival. This man was a killer, someone who did it for the sheer joy of slaughtering others. And as the door slid open and several beams of light split the darkness, David realized the killer was not alone.
"I want this done quick," the killer commanded as he and his compatriots moved into the massive room. Not wanting to fight four armed men head on, the former assassin looked for a spot where he could stay out of sight for the time being. The I-beam he hid behind offered a solution, forming a path to the ceiling rafters.
After taking a step back, David rushed forward. A part of him was shocked at his own grace and agility. A single leap brought him halfway to the rafters. Gripping the edges, he shimmied up the I-beam until he reached where it had bent toward the floor. Once he was among the rafter that held the ceiling in place, David found himself studying the men below.
The first thing he noticed was how inhuman they looked. What in the hell are they? As if she were reading his mind Tenenbaum's voice returned, quietly whispering the answer to his unspoken question.
"They are Splicers. Their humanity is all but gone now." There was little arguing with Tenenbaum's assessment. Each Splicer looked as though someone had taken a vat of acid to their face. Their features were lopsided, or crooked, eyes uneven, mouths twisted to one side.
"Why do we have to search this rotted piece of shit?" David looked at the speaker, a Splicer who had moved away from the group to look around a pile of rubble. Though the Splicer had injected an edge into his voice, the armored teenager could recognize the waver of fear, the subtle hint of weakness. He knew to look for the weak link, his first target.
"Because Cassidy has promised us a heap of ADAM," the killer responded harshly. Cassidy? Every fiber of David's being froze. His muscles went rigid and stiff, clenching tight as he fought to get a grip on his emotions.
"David?" Tenenbaum asked. Distantly, the teenager was aware of Tenenbaum's voice, but he was not in a state to give a rational response. "David!" Something in the doctor's tone brought David out of his stupor. Coming back from his trance-like state, the teenager realized that he'd held the I-beam in a death grip. He had to fight his muscles and nerves for a moment before they would give up on their hold of the steel, but David managed to unclench his hand. A set of indentation remained in the metal where he had gripped it.
Flexing his hand, David stared at the Splicers below. Only four had entered the room, and he saw reason to suspect one had remained behind with the train. At that moment, David wasn't sure if he was glad that there were so few, or angry that he could only kill four.
"I'm fine." Nimbly stalking the Splicer's along the beam, the former assassin moved into position over the Splicer he'd decided would be the first to die. "This won't… take long."
Noiselessly, David leapt from the rafters to land less than a foot behind the straying Splicer. After taking a moment to ensure the others hadn't heard or seen him, the armored teen engaged the ADAM needle on his right arm and slid it into the Splicer's neck. With practiced ease, David put one hand over the dying man's mouth to silence his gurgling death rattle before dragging him into the shadows.
Despite that David knew he hadn't made a sound, the killer turned his flashlight on the spot where the unsure Splicer had been only moments ago. "James? Where the hell have you buggered off to?"
Sticking to the shadows, the former assassin moved behind another Splicer. Grabbing the man's wrist, David relived the unaware Splicer of his pipe wrench before driving his elbow into his opponent's skull. Regardless of his efforts to stay quiet, there was no silencing the muffled crack of the Splicer's vertebrae snapping.
Both of the remaining Splicers turned their flashlights to glare in David's face. Before either could shoot him, David dove behind a pile of rubble. The unmistakable sound of a Thompson machinegun letting loose precise bursts of hot lead filled the lab. Because of the dim lighting, the former assassin was able to move behind the surviving Splicer who was not shooting and calmly break the man's neck.
Before the killer had a chance to train his sights on him, David threw the pipe wrench. Though he'd been aiming for the man's skull, the former assassin was still pleased when the wrench knocked the Thompson from the killer's hands. Hoping to end the fight then and there, David charged forward, ready to impale the man.
Without warning, the space between the two burst into flames, the air rippling with heat. The explosion knocked David to one side, slamming him into the same I-beam he'd used to reach the rafters. The blow knocked the wind from his lungs and left his head spinning. As the killer raised his hand again, his fingertips ablaze with an unnatural flame, David rolled around the I-beam, putting cold steel between himself and the next sheet of fire.
Struggling to catch his breath, the former assassin could feel the heat even through his dense, armored suit. The plate on the back if his hand was glowing. Wisps of smoke and steam drifted past his face plate. With a snarl, David rounded the I-beam and closed the distance between him and the killer.
As only surviving Splicer looked to snap his fingers, and presumably send another wall of fire at
David, the former assassin reached across the narrow gap between them and pulled the man's arm aside. Using his momentum to put his entire body behind the blow, the armored teen brought his other hand crashing into the man's elbow. With a hollow crack, the killer's arm snapped, his bones all but shattering.
As the killer screamed in agony, David brought his elbow to snap against the man's chin, feeling a sadistic pleasure as the metal slammed into flesh. As a final blow, the former assassin then stepped on the killer's knee, driving his copper shod boot to snap bone like kindling. With the Splicer immobilized, disarmed, and all but unconscious, David let him fall to the ground.
Fighting to control his breathing, he could see the killer vainly try to snap his fingers again. Unwilling to let even an unlikely threat go unnoticed, David stepped on the killer's hand. The killer let out another scream before finally lying still, his eyes on the former assassin. David leaned close, putting his head next to the killer's ear.
"Cassidy," he rasped. The Splicer's eyes widened in recognition. Then they narrowed to glare at David.
"Fuck you Fish Bowl." With a harsh and ragged laugh, the armored teen stood, turning his back on the killer. Stay down here and rot, David thought. I hope it takes a long time. Without another glance back, he went to the train platform and found a train car that looked like it would fall off its rail at any moment. It'll have to do, he thought, both of the train and of his violent reaction to hearing Cassidy's name. For a moment, David wished that Tenenbaum hadn't bothered to bring him back. He wished that she had left him in the dark emptiness where he didn't have to fight and kill for his survival. Where the ghosts of his past didn't haunt his every waking moment.