Kristi Helvig: Burn Out

“Settle down, sweetie.” Markus turned to the group. “No one’s going to shoot anyone. Let’s calm ourselves.”

“If you kill me now, you’ll never get the guns. Right, Markus? Except that didn’t seem to bother you earlier when you were all shooting at me.”

He laughed. “I already told you … we were trying to incapacitate you, not kill you. Besides, you can’t kill us either—I doubt you’ll escape the Consulate lackeys out there on your own.”

I flashed him a withering look. Of course they wanted me alive; Markus must have told them only I could fire the guns. If it prevented the Consulate from killing me outright, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. “I was doing just fine before you all came along. And they didn’t seem to be shooting at me.”

The largest of the suits spoke. It was the deep voice from earlier who’d asked to check on his dead guy. “Look, we’re all in the same situation here. See, I’m putting my gun down.” He turned off the trigger and placed the gun at his feet. He reached up and slowly removed his helmet. His short hair was drenched in sweat.

The smaller of the other two suits—it had to be the girl—yanked off her helmet. “It’s too frickin’ hot for this shit. Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on out there? Aren’t they supposed to be on our side, Kale?”

She was small, dark, and bony. Even her cheeks looked sharp—like those mean-looking birds I’d once come across on the GlobalNet. I’d been glad they’d died out before I came along. She lowered her gun, but didn’t drop it.

I glanced over at Markus, annoyed at the amusement on his face. Bad choice on my part. The humming sound warned me just in time, and I dove to the floor and rolled. The laser hit the wall behind me and created a shower of sparks. I came up, my weapon aimed at the girl who’d just fired at me, but the tall man, Kale, had already knocked her gun out of her hands.

“That’s enough,” he boomed. “You never shoot without an order. Got it, soldier?”

The girl glared at me. She kicked the floor with her boot. “Got it,” she mumbled.

My relief lasted only for the second it took for him to hand the gun back to her. “Next time I take your gun, it’s for good.”

The girl grunted in reply. It seemed clear that Kale was in charge, or was supposed to be anyway. He looked older than Markus by a good decade. My pulse wouldn’t stop racing, and I stood slowly, not lowering my gun. Had Kale putting his gun down been a trick? Did they think I was completely stupid?

That was when the third suit, which either had to be a guy or quite a strapping young lady, put down his gun in a halting way, as if reluctant to let go of it. He took off his helmet and laid it carefully by his weapon.

I sucked in my breath when he looked directly at me. The guy had an intense stare. His sandy blond hair matched the scruff on his face, and he didn’t look much older than me—I’d say three years max. He might even be considered sort of cute if I didn’t count the whole killer-for-hire thing against him. Which I did. Of course, maybe he only seemed cute because, before today, I could count the number of boys I’d seen in the past year on one finger. His eyes held mine for an instant before he turned to the older man. He didn’t say a word, just eyed him with a questioning expression.

Kale sighed. “One of my contacts must have gone to the Consulate after we left Caelia. Sold me out for some currency.”

I frowned, confused. “What are you talking about? Didn’t the Consulate hire you?”

Scruffy boy chimed in. “They probably figured out he wasn’t going to hand the guns over.” His voice sounded deep and rough, like his vocal cords had been rubbed with sandpaper. I wanted him to say more but he didn’t. Why hadn’t Kale planned to hand over the guns? It wasn’t like any greater payment than a UCC existed.

Markus whirled to face Kale. “What? You wanted to double-cross the Consulate? Well, I want my UCC.” He punched the table with his fist. “I never would have agreed to this if I’d known about this bullshit.”

“Exactly,” said Kale. “And we needed you in case Tora needed some extra persuasion. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I planned to pay you myself for your services.” He gestured above us. “But first we need a way out of here.”

Markus glanced at the girl. “Were you in on this too, Britta?”

Somehow the name fit her. Britta just shrugged.

I laughed at Markus. “Aw, you poor thing … doesn’t feel good to be screwed over, does it? Well, now the Consulate knows where the guns are and don’t need any of your sorry asses. There’s no way they’ll let you live now.”

Britta whined. “I didn’t sign up for this. I just want my money and I want to go home.” She glared at me with her beady black eyes. Britta the bird. “But first, I really want to be the one to hurt her.”

“I don’t think anyone’s going home anytime soon, Britta,” Kale said. “And there will be no hurting anyone tonight.”

I noticed the “tonight” qualifier. Should I be grateful they wouldn’t maim me until morning? Maybe I should let them know that my finger wouldn’t work on the weapons security door if I was dead.

The aerial attack continued a bit longer above us, and then came to an abrupt halt. Maybe it dawned on them that I could easily take them down with one of my father’s super-guns. Or they were just changing strategies.

Britta grumbled as she peeled off her suit. “I still don’t get why the government would kill their own?”

I yawned in mock boredom. “They must not see you as valuable. You’re certainly not a very good shot.” I eyed bird girl and scruffy boy. “Let me guess—you’re two of Earth’s last juvenile delinquents. You already got in trouble on Caelia and this mission was your chance at redeeming yourselves. Sorry it didn’t work out so well.”

Britta lunged at me, barely held back by Kale.

Scruffy boy shot icicles at me with his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Give it a rest, Tora,” said Markus. “We’re all tired here.”

He sounded eerily like Dad, who used to ride me for my “relentless sarcasm.” My mother defended it, saying it made me a fighter and that it was “better to have dark humor than none.” She’d said once that if she’d had some of my spunk, she might not have needed so many meds.

Kale shifted and cleared his throat. “Um, Tora, can I use the bathroom?”

I suppressed my laughter. Their fearless leader went from trying to shoot me to requesting to take a piss. It’s amazing the difference an hour can make in one’s life. I pointed to a small door off to the side and snorted. “Make sure you aim into the center of the machine—we recycle here.”

A container in the room collected and sterilized urine before running it through a tube in the wall back to the W.A.R. unit. Even though it tasted like water again once it was recycled, drinking my own piss was one thing—I cringed at the thought of drinking theirs. I kept my gun lowered but refused to let my guard down, trying to remember if there was anything in the bathroom Kale could use against me. Not unless he gets really creative with the waterless toothpaste . My shoulders relaxed a little when he came out empty-handed.

“Let’s all take a load off and sort this out,” said Markus, gesturing to the empty seats around him. He sounded genial but I caught the suspicious look he sent Kale’s way. Maybe Kale screwing him over could benefit me. I had a shortage of allies at the moment and could use someone on my side—even Markus.

Markus parked himself in Dad’s chair. I still couldn’t bring myself to sit in the ones that my mom and sister used. Let them sit. I’d stand. I waved my arm toward the table in mock hospitality.