Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

The six guards broke into three teams. Headman and Heavy stayed back while each Coilgun paired up with a Footie and started spreading out on either side of the building. But they were keeping some distance. Sky got the impression that they might be there more for observation and containment than an assault. Or they might be an advance force, staging before the rest of them got there.

“Gamble, Sky,” he whispered over comms. “I don’t think this is gonna work, Ace.”

“Nice timing,” she answered.

Sky flicked his eyes to the front door. A split-second later it slid open, and he saw a figure standing in the entrance. Straggler. Kit. She had her hood back up. Gamble had updated him about her, but as he watched her come down the stairs, Sky stood by his original assessment; she definitely walked like a dude. Why was Kit walking?

Coilgun A and Footie Two were the pair of guards closest to the front, and they reacted almost immediately, shouting and gesturing at Kit, Coilgun A with his hand on his holstered coilgun. She just kept right on walking, head down, like she had nowhere in particular to be. Sky scoped in on the Headman. He and Heavy hadn’t done anything yet, but they were intent on the situation. The other pair of guards had stopped in their tracks, but they were still far enough around to one side that there was no way Gamble and the others would be able to slip out unnoticed. Sky looked back to find the guard had his coilgun out now, pointed at Kit, and she had her hands up.

“What exactly were you expecting her to do?” Sky asked.

“Run. Why, what’s she doing?”

“Pretty much the opposite.”

Kit lowered herself to her knees, and then placed her hands behind her head. Footie Two had the stunrod out. He eased his way toward her while Coilgun A kept her covered. Sky was too high up to hear what was going on, but from the body language it looked like they were talking back and forth. Was she giving them up?

“She’s talking, Ace. She’s talking to ’em.”

Footie Two had stopped about six feet away from Kit, and he turned back to look at Coilgun A. Coilgun A turned back and motioned towards the Headman. He and Heavy started approaching. Sky started sighting in again. Headman, Heavy, Coilgun A. Hopefully the grunts would just scatter and at least they’d get to go home.

“Finn, can you get a bead on those two around the side?” Sky said.

“Stand by,” Finn answered. This was exactly how it wasn’t supposed to go. Both sides just doing their jobs, and people ending up dead for it. “Yeeeah, I can get ’em if they don’t move too much more your way.”

“Check, I’ll pick ’em up last if I have to.”

“We going?” Finn said.

“Not yet.”

“Alright, on your shot.”

“Check.”

Kit laid back her hood, and then pointed away up the street, back towards where Headman had been standing. What was she doing?

“Sky, status,” Gamble said.

“Bad, getting worse,” Sky said.

And just as the last word was leaving his mouth, Kit was in motion. It was tough to follow exactly what happened after she closed in on the grunt, but somehow she ended up with the stunrod. There was a burst of shouting and commotion, and Heavy stumbled back a couple of steps. Sky snapped his weapon up and sighted in on Heavy, just as the guard was shouldering his weapon. But something made Sky hesitate, something almost reflexive, too fast to consciously process. If Heavy had wanted to fire, Sky had just given him the chance. But neither of them had pulled the trigger.

And now Sky saw why. Footie Two and Coilgun A were both on the ground, out cold, and Kit had an arm around Headman’s neck, using him as a shield. She had the stunrod held up right in front of his face, and he’d gone real quiet. Heavy was tracking her with his weapon, but Kit was doing a good job of keeping the Headman between them. She started backing slowly up, towards the alley across the street from Mister Sun’s.

“I’m losing ’em,” Finn warned. He was losing his shot on the other two. But that was actually good news. It meant they were moving towards Kit, which meant they were moving away from the back door.

“I think she’s actually gonna pull this off,” Sky said. It wasn’t going anywhere near according to Gamble’s plan, but if Kit could just get clear…

“Sky, what’s going on out there?” Gamble said.

“Get ready to move,” Sky said. “On my call.”

Kit was walking backwards slow and steady, maybe fifteen steps from the alley. Twelve. Ten. Coilgun B had his gun out, but his angle was worse than Heavy’s. Footie One just kind of stood there, slightly behind Coilgun B, looking lost. Headman must’ve been talking, judging from the look on Heavy’s face, but Kit just kept retreating towards that alley. Sky was going to lose her once she made that corner, but he didn’t want to risk repositioning at such a critical moment. He just kept on Heavy, watching the man’s face through that optic. Heavy was intense, grim. A total pro. Just waiting for his opening.

“Let her go, man,” Sky whispered. “Let her go.”

If Sky could’ve talked to her, he would have told Kit to just keep backing down that alley until she could make a lateral move. Dump the Headman and take off before Heavy got a clean shot. Unfortunately, Sky couldn’t talk to her.

The Headman went limp, and then violently ragdolled forward, straight at Heavy. But Heavy leapt sideways and dropped to a knee, and got two shots off before Sky could reacquire him.

“Sky?” Gamble called.

“Go, Gamble, move!”

“Moving.”

The other two guards rushed over to the fallen Headman, and Coilgun B knelt beside him, checked for a pulse. From the looks of it, Kit had hit him with the stunrod and then tossed or kicked his body at Heavy. Heavy was still on one knee, at least. Kit was gone, somewhere down that alley. No way to tell from where Sky was whether she’d been hit or not. Judging from the fact that no one was chasing after her though, he had a pretty good guess.

“Sky, Finn,” Finn said. “Precious cargo is away. We need to roll out, brother.”

“Alright, check,” Sky answered. He gave one last look at Heavy, still in his sights. It’d be so easy. But now it’d just be revenge. Heavy stood slowly and advanced cautiously into the alley, weapon still shouldered. “Sky moving.”

Wren was trembling, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or the nerves, or a combination of the two. He felt it mostly in his chest, and no matter how hard he squeezed his arms into his sides, his ribcage just kept on vibrating like he had some kind of machine stuck inside. He pulled the hood up on his coat. It made it a little harder to see what was going on around him, but maybe that was OK. Wren was just focused on keeping near Mama anyway. And Wick. His job was to stay with Wick.

He hoped Kit was OK. He’d heard the shots, of course. But everything had happened so fast after that, and no one had mentioned anything, and he wasn’t supposed to talk or ask any questions. He’d always liked her, even though Wren didn’t know her very well. She’d been one of the first he’d Awakened, even before Mez, and she’d been the easiest to help. And now Mez was dead, and Luck, and now maybe Kit too. It seemed especially cruel, to him; like life had been twice stolen from them. The hollow promise of a second chance, snatched away.

The heavy quiet still seemed eerie, like the silence that falls after some background noise everyone had grown accustomed to suddenly goes away. And everything they did seemed too loud in it. Their footsteps, the jangle of their gear, even their breathing. Wren found himself breathing through his mouth, just to try to keep quiet.