James Decker - Fallout

The officer fired, and the man cringed as the round struck the concrete building face to his right. Instead of backing down, he raised his bullhorn again.

“We know who you are,” he rasped, his voice beginning to go. He looked down again, as if trying to find me. “Look at my face. This is the face of belief. Watch, and—”

The officer fired again and I waited for the man to jerk and then fall, but he didn’t. The bullhorn sparked and exploded in his hand. His voice squealed into silence as the device began tumbling end over end down toward the street.

Either the bullet or shrapnel from the amplifier had struck the man’s head because on the big screen I could see the blood that trickled freely from his hairline. The wind pushed the droplets across his face, streaking it with red lines as the mob in the square screamed.

I couldn’t look away from him. The expression on his face changed, and I saw tears form in his eyes as he looked to his left. He seemed to be looking at one of the other gonzos, and he mouthed something I couldn’t make out before looking back down over the ledge. He took several deep breaths, drops of blood spitting from his mouth and nose.

He closed his eyes, and at some unseen signal, the people on the ledge dropped the banner. It fell, fluttering into a tangle as the wind carried it toward the streets below. Then they all let go of the window frames, stood up straight on the ledge, and let themselves fall forward.

“Oh my God,” Dao-Ming said, putting one hand over her mouth.

The crowd gasped as one by one they fell, white robes rippling around them as they sailed headfirst toward the pavement below. No one needed security to make them move at that point. Those close to ground zero started pushing back against the crowd behind them in an attempt to get out of the way, but were not fast enough. We were close enough for me to hear the crack as the first head hit the sidewalk. I turned away, not wanting to see, but the LCD screen across from us caught the whole thing. People turned, shielding themselves as they were spattered with blood and chunks of gore. The next body struck, then the next.

“Come on!” Vamp shouted. “We’re getting out of here!”

Eyebot showed a swarm of orange markers closing in on our position as security struggled to control the impending riot. More bodies rained down from above as the four of us broke, shoving our way through the crowd as best we could.

The square turned into a giant surging mob as people stood clustered on top of vehicles and clung to fire escapes in an attempt to get out of the flow. Security tried to hold the line, but the streets turned to complete chaos. Just ahead, a protester collided with a security officer who grabbed his arm. When the man tried to twist free, the officer hit him with his stunner and the man dropped. While he struggled on his hands and knees, the officer bashed him in the head with his collapsible baton. Someone else tried to push him away and got shoved back onto the pavement as two more officers appeared.

“This way!” Vamp yelled, waving us toward him. The gate hub had started to queue up, and in less than a minute it would be completely swarmed. We shoved our way through the crowd, Vamp taking the lead as he struggled to make a path to the closest one.

I fought to get out of the flow of people, joining Vamp, Jin, and Dao-Ming underneath a building’s awning on our way toward the nearest gate. When I looked down at my hands and my shirt, I saw that I’d been misted with blood from one of the jumpers.

“Move!” Vamp yelled at a clot of bodies blocking our way. “Go, or get out of the way!”

Something boomed near the edge of the crowd, and a beat later a pile of bodies were bowled over in a huge splash of cold water. I turned to see a riot cannon mounted on a security truck, the turret rotating a little to the left before it fired again. A compressed ball of water shot out under enough pressure to lift a man into the air and send him tumbling into the other protesters.

It seemed to be happening in a dream. All I could focus on were those falling bodies—all those bodies—sailing down, silent and almost peaceful, until they struck the ground. What could have been going through their heads as they fell? How could they do it?

“This is the face of belief….”

“Sam!” Vamp called. I didn’t realize he’d addressed me directly until he grabbed my arm, and I jumped, turning back toward him. Dao-Ming stood to his left, trying to hold her ground. A single blotch of blood had stained her shirt, spreading out like the petals of a flower.

“Everyone stop what you’re doing and get down on the ground!” one of the cops bellowed over an amplifier. Officers with body armor and shields continued to close in, trying to move the mob back away from the security wall. “Get down on the—”

Something struck him in the head, and he dropped the amplifier, which fell to the ground in front of him. The officer stumbled back, as something else—a bottle, I thought—shattered against his helmet.

In response, the officer next to him turned and fired at the man who’d thrown the bottle. The bullet hit him in the forehead, and a gout of blood popped from the back of his skull. As his body slumped, the people around him screamed. One woman stared in shock, her face painted red.

The square, already a pressure cooker, exploded. Two young men, one spattered in his comrade’s blood, clawed their way through the crowd and over a parked security car. They jumped the officer who had fired before he saw them coming and one dragged him down to the ground as he fired a single shot into the air. Then both men were on him. The other officers who’d been with the shooter were overwhelmed as the angry mob surged over them. More shots banged through the streets as rocks, bricks and bottles began to strike the wall of shields.

“We have to get out of here!” Jin shouted, his voice hoarse.

Another uniformed officer climbed up on top of a parked aircar and pounded the roof with his palm. The driver fired up the graviton emitters and took them up just out of reach of the crowd; then the man on top aimed a shotgun down at the spot where the protesters had begun beating the fallen cops. He fired, and I saw a woman’s shoulder explode as she fell facedown onto the ground. He fired again and again, sending mists of red into the air above them.

“Dao-Ming!” Jin yelled, his voice hoarse. The crowd had begun to push her away from him, and one of the men fell as a bullet caught him behind one ear. “Dao-Ming, look out—”

He started in surprise as a dark spot appeared in the middle of his throat. He looked confused, then moved his hand to his neck where blood had begun to spill out.

Dao-Ming screamed. She fought her way through the mob, eyes wide, as Jin took a step back, then fell onto the pavement.

I stared as Vamp rushed toward him, pushing people away so no one would trample him and so Dao-Ming could get through. She reached Jin, and went down on her knees next to him. She put both hands over the wound, trying to stop the blood but it just gushed through her fingers.

I heard the cannon, but never saw the shot coming. Out of nowhere, the pulse of icy liquid slammed into my chest and pulled my feet up off the ground. My back slammed into the side of a box truck, and I caromed off to pitch face-first onto the ground.

“Sam!” Vamp cried. “Sam!”

I could barely breathe. It felt like I got hit by a car or something, and my legs didn’t want to work anymore. I struggled to my feet, stumbling, and turned in time to see an elbow whip through the air as someone struggled with two more officers. It connected with my forehead, and I fell back.

“Sam!”

The sounds grew distant as I fell, fading into silence before I even reached the ground.