Chapter 24: Silence

  Olivia rolled her shoulders, trying to alleviate the ache at the back of her neck. Her forearms and calves groaned in protest with every little movement after the tension of her amateur surgery. Stop complaining. Focus. She forced herself to ignore her neck and keep studying the three members of the Phoenix Watch across the table from her. Preacher and Quarrel took seats alongside most of Olivia’s friends, leaving Roach the only one standing, his thick, scarred arms folded across his chest.

  Preacher twitched as they conversed, though no more than she’d seen from Ben or Rob. It struck her that he’d walked completely normally into their hideout. Chris and Ben, whenever carrying a concealed pistol, compensated with baggy clothes and adjusted their posture for the increased weight at their belt. She’d seen it, no matter how much they tried to hide it. Much like the feral institute staff, and wildly unlike the various gangs who’d tried to kill her over the past month, all three of the Watch struck her as nervous, but not hostile. Despite his physical nervous ticks, Preacher’s voice held steady. They somewhat smelled of sweat, though no more than her friends in the desert sun.

  I think they’re telling the truth. She raised her head and sniffed the air again, trying to confirm her suspicion, only to be struck by something much different. Is that oil? “Do you guys smell that?” asked Olivia, interrupting the conversation.

  “Smell what?” asked Chris as he reached for his weapon.

  Olivia puffed her wings out as she recognized the scent. I’m so stupid, I wasn’t paying attention. “Oil,” she hissed, staring at the ceiling as she heard light footsteps up above.

  At that moment, a portion of the ceiling exploded. Two dark figures rappelled from the brand new hole, aiming rifles on the way down. The barrels of the rifles they held flashed, though Olivia saw no sign of recoil. Roach took three bullets to the head. Amanda curled up and dropped out of her chair as one bullet caught her in the gut. The figure responsible froze for a split second as it took her in, then spun to train its rifle on a new target. To Olivia’s left, the back wall began to peel away like tin foil, despite being made of brick.

  “Shit,” yelled Ben.

  Beside Olivia, Miya backed away as the figures hit the floor. Quarrel’s shot plinked off the chest of one of the figures. Nonononono. Amanda! Get away from her. Olivia roared and charged as Chris shifted to liquid form and barreled towards the other. A metal face locked in a perpetual scream met her furious gaze. Before she could make more than two steps, the robot screamed, “Wait! No, please don’t kill me. Please don’t. No!” The screams dissolved into ragged sobbing.

  Olivia’s fury and momentum cut out in an instant at the pitch perfect sound of a woman pleading for her life. Was that Amanda? No. What? The robot showed no such hesitation, firing a three round burst point blank into Olivia’s face with unerring aim. She growled and staggered back, holding up a hand to ward off any more bullets.

  Olivia forced herself to focus on the robot. Despite the screaming, it reeked of oil, not blood and sweat. No heart beat under its metal skin. It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real. She rushed forward and rammed into the robot with her shoulder, heedless of the next burst of gunfire. Its rifle took the brunt of the blow, bending down the middle. The robot staggered back a few paces before righting itself.

  The wall to her left stopped peeling and a cone of fire burst into the warehouse. Someone had flipped the table they’d been using previously towards the wall, and people Olivia didn’t recognize rushed in right behind the covering flames. The mass of fire sucked her breath out, though the heat itself felt almost pleasant on her skin.

  Her world devolved to a single room filled with chaos as gunfire picked up. The robot dropped its useless rifle, ducked under Olivia’s follow up swipe, and rolled behind her. Before Olivia could turn, the still screaming robot pinned her tail to the ground with a dark knife it had produced from a slot in its wrist. Shut up. Olivia hissed and tore her tail free as she whirled around to face the robot again. The knife, now twisted and useless, clattered away. Two bullets from someone connected with its leg. The robot ignored the two new holes in its leg, simply shifting its weight to the undamaged one, even as it played the sound of someone screaming in pain.

  A fireball flew in from the peeled brick wall, whizzing past Olivia. Chris, distracting the other sobbing robot in her peripherals, snapped back to human and recoiled from the projectile.

  More gunfire filled the room, some striking Olivia on the shoulder. She shot her wing out just in time to catch a handful of bullets headed for Miya. The force pulled on her back, but failed to break the skin. Her attention slipped for a fraction of a second, just long enough for the robot to slash at her face with another knife.

  A massive man bulled through the fire and wreckage of the wall with a laugh, toting a makeshift shotgun as large as Miya. Each of the three barrels seemed to be made of steel pipe welded together. Two crossbow bolts sprouted from beneath his clavicle. The man rumbled with laughter and took aim at Quarrel. There’s too much.

  Miya lunged in a low tackle at the back of the knee of its damaged leg. What are you doing? No! The robot screamed again and leaped out of the way. She only managed to deal a glancing blow to the leg. Olivia, however, caught the robot’s extended arm as the robot leapt and ripped it off as she rushed in to defend her friend.

  Something exploded behind them as another wave of heat washed over them. The robot shifted to a more defensive stance as Olivia followed through with another swing of her claws. However, when the robot tried to sidestep again, its leg seized up, and Olivia’s hand went through its chest plate. Scales scraped against metal as oil coated her hand and her claws curled around wiring and tubes within. The robot spasmed and collapsed in a heap as she yanked herself free, the screaming falling silent at last. Oh thank god. Then Olivia staggered to the side as people started shooting her again. God damn it. Leave us alone.

  Miya tugged on her wing, almost catching a reflexive claw for her troubles. “We need to leave!” she shouted as she took cover as best she could behind Olivia.

  Right, she’s right. Where is Amanda? She ducked to keep her profile low and spun around, taking stock. Preacher unmoving on the ground, bleeding from several bullet wounds. Rob cradled Amanda as he carried her out the back door, aided by Roach, somehow still alive after taking three shots to the head. Miya needed no urging to bolt after them. Ben and Chris did their best to contain the second robot as fireballs and bullets rained down on them.

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  Deep laughter caught Olivia’s attention. The giant man cornered Quarrel, even as she loaded a heavy bolt. He still laughed despite the bolts sticking out of his chest. A long stride closed the distance and he slapped the crossbow out of her hands. Quarrel kicked Shotty in the stomach as he raised her by her throat, his other hand still carrying his massive shotgun thing. His shoulders shook in a chuckle as he raised his shotgun to her gut.

  Once, weeks ago before everything had gone to hell, Amanda bought a collection of caramels for the group along with the regular groceries. They smelled of pure sugar, so Olivia tore into one with gusto, only to find her sharp teeth punching into a wad of sweet tar that resisted all attempts to cut and shred like other food. Her claws found much the same as she rushed in and tore into the man’s shotgun arm. They punched into flesh, but the muscle refused to give way easily. The shotgun fired like a crack of thunder, missing Quarrel and filling Olivia’s ears with ringing.

  He roared in pain and dropped both Quarrel and his shotgun, then slammed a massive fist into Olivia’s head before she could pull her hand free. Stars danced in her vision as she staggered back, her claws now pulled free from the force of the blow. He screamed something incomprehensible at her. She hissed in return, finding herself in the rare position of looking up at someone, and lunged at him.

  Too close to one of their friends, the bullets and fireballs stopped flying towards her. Some chased after Quarrel and the others, the rest began to circle around Olivia and the giant. He sidestepped with a wide haymaker, catching her in the shoulder. His quick follow up kick to her hip met with a set of raking claws. She couldn’t tear into him like a robot or person, but still drew blood from his thigh.

  He stumbled as she wrenched her hand free. She let out a roar and charged right as he did the same. Their collision broke a bone in the giant with an audible snap, though Olivia could only enjoy the victory for a split second before she slammed into and through the wall behind her. She rolled to a stop a few feet away in the parking lot, drawing a ragged breath.

  Footsteps approached, far too light to be the giant. She smelled sweat and gunpowder, and snarled to ward off the oncoming gunmen. He kept coming, so she fought through the pain and struck at his leg with a hiss. Her claws dug into the asphalt as he jumped back, shouting something else she didn’t understand. With a hiss, she began to struggle back to her hands and feet. Her right eye throbbed in pain.

  The gunman, rather than shoot, took a knee in front of her, just out of reach. She blinked. Wait. She sniffed the air, catching a much more familiar scent.

  “Olivia!” cried out Ben. “You remember me. You remember me, right?” He glanced up. The robot climbed through the hole Olivia had made. The massive man strode through the doorway, his shoulder shattering the remainder of the frame. “Come on, Olivia, we gotta get out of here.” Ben extended his hand to her. After a moment, she took it.

  He pulled her to her feet. “Come on,” he said. She took a step and stumbled into him, head pounding and legs refusing to work quite right. “Olivia, can you fly?”

  She nodded. “Sorry,” she murmured. I should have recognized you.

  “Get out of here, we’ll meet up later. Go,” he said, letting her take her own weight.

  “But-” she began.

  “Go!” he repeated. He slapped her on the back for encouragement.

  Olivia jumped into the air and spread her wings. She kept climbing, even as men flowed from either corner of the warehouse and opened fire on her. From her vantage point in the air, she could see her friend split into two groups. Rob still carried Amanda, with Miya and Roach guiding the way. Quarrel, Ben, and Chris fought a rearguard against the gunmen down a separate street. Both surviving members of the Watch seemed to be taking the lead.

  The robot sprinted after Roach’s group, its head half severed from its body and dangling from its neck. It still gibbered in terror, now with a young man’s voice, even as it stalked forward with rifle in hand. Oliva took a deep breath. The one she fought in Westward kept its distance, and retreated when it could. Something is going on. And not just the awful screaming.

  She tilted to the side and glided to intercept it, eyes laser focused on her prey. By instinct, she pulled her arms and legs in as tight as she could, keeping them from catching air and making noise. It gave no sign it noticed her, as high up as she was. She dove.

  Her speed built and built. Wind tugged ever more incessantly at her hair and clothes. The robot reacted far too late. Before it could even start its dodge, she snapped her wings and arms out, bringing herself rocketing forward three feet off the ground and straight into the robot’s chest. Her hands ripped through the second robot’s chest, snapping the thing in half and silencing the sobbing. Oh, that worked, she thought as she spat out a fleck of metallic debris that got into her mouth. We should be outside more. It didn’t seem ready for that.

  She climbed once again. Quarrel’s group piled into a car Olivia didn’t recognize, with no one near enough to threaten them. Roach’s group seemed in far more dire straits. They’d evaded the gunmen, and the whine of approaching sirens no doubt kept them from any serious pursuit. But Roach now carried Amanda, and Rob leaned heavily on the much smaller Miya.

  Even from her vantage point in the air, Olivia could smell blood. She’d better be OK. Finally, they came to a stop next to a familiar pickup truck. With no threats on the immediate horizon, Olivia landed next to them. Roach laid an unconscious Amanda down in the bed of his truck and removed his shirt, revealing a bloody and sweat stained tank top beneath. He waded up his shirt and pressed it to Amanda’s stomach. He looked up at Miya and Rob and said something in a language Olivia had never heard before.

  Without missing a beat, Miya checked Rob’s leg. Olivia followed her gaze to find a bullet wound on his leg, forming a short but deep gash. “Hurts like hell,” said Rob, noticing her gaze. “What’d he say?”

  “Sit down,” said Miya as she released him. Her voice tense and eyes on the verge of panic, Olivia thought the better of adding to her stress by talking. “Need to bandage your leg.” After only a moment of standing on his own, his leg buckled.

  “Whoa, that ain’t good,” groaned Rob as he sat on a curb.

  Roach spoke some more. He and Miya swapped places. Amanda, though unconscious, twitched a bit. Her head rolled to the side. What do I do? What can I do?

  “Oh, this is a lot of blood,” said Miya.

  Roach called out something to her as he tore a length of Rob’s shirt off for a bandage. Miya replied in the same tongue, though far more hesitant and halting.

  Amanda started coughing. “Amanda, Amanda, can you hear me?” asked Miya, swapping back to English.

  Amanda’s breathing quickened. “Mom?” gasped Amanda. She coughed again, then passed out. Olivia’s jaws clenched hard to stop herself from letting out an agonized scream.

  “Fuck, she’s bleeding out. Fuck. That’s dark blood. Um, fuck, platelets. Those stop stuff like this. I read that once.” Miya freed a hand from the sticky, blood-soaked mass of cloth and grabbed Amanda’s arm. Olivia spotted streams of blood red begin to weave their way in and around Miya’s arm. “Platelets stop bleeding. Platelets come from bones. Um, more platelets. Go. Work, work, work.” She laid streams of magic over Amanda’s major bones.

  “Organs. Those need help. Those aren’t bones though.” At a loss for what else to do, Olivia put a gentle hand on Miya’s shoulder. “You’re right, I could still get them back where they need to be. That’s simple enough.”

  With another stream of magic Olivia didn’t pretend to understand, Amanda’s breathing at least stabilized. Roach stood up from Rob’s injury and started talking.

  “What’s he saying?” asked Rob.

  “Oh yeah, he’s speaking Nahua.,” explained Miya. “He has some friends at a local hospital, he’s offering to drive us there.” Roach spoke some more. “He says hopefully we can have a small section to ourselves if they’re not too busy.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Rob with a weary shrug. Roach asked something.

  “Do we know where Quarrel and the others are?” translated Miya.

  “I’ll call them on the way,” offered Rob.

  Olivia helped him into the shotgun seat of the truck as Miya and Roach got Amanda laid out in the back. Only when in the air and away from anyone else did she allow herself to let out a scream of rage and frustration.