Gamma Protocol (110)

[110]

Things hadn’t gone dark. To my eyes, the world had just lost all color.

The air tasted of pulverized concrete, dirt, and iron.

Silver chains surrounded us in every direction, a warped cocoon centered around Bear. She stood in the center, knees bent, arms raised like she was trying to punch the sky. The chains wrapped around her forearms, stretching upwards and overhead like an umbrella before bending around us and reversing course to wrap around her shins.

“Anyone alive?” she rasped, voice strained, teeth gritted.

“Alive,” I answered, moving to what was left of the truck cabin, thankful for the printed-mask’s in-built filter. One passenger. “Vesper’s alive.” I declared with a mix of concern and relief as I saw her labored breaths.

“Probably broke something,” she croaked, eyes wide as her hands pulled out her gun. “I can’t see anything.”

“Same,” Bear added.

“I can see,” I reported.

“Then get yourselves closer,” Bear barked, arms shaking. “Can’t keep the bubble this large for much longer.”

I nodded. “Vesper, I’m going to reach out to you. Don’t shoot.” She flinched but began moving stiffly as I helped her maneuver her way out of the cabin. I hesitated as I looked around. “Where’s my gear?”

I’d insisted on bringing my shield and some basic low-caliber bulletproof gear available in case things went sideways.

“Arnold’s half of the cabin,” she gasped. “He opened the door when the bombs went off and everything flew out. I would’ve too if I hadn’t had my belt on… I don’t think he made it.” She leaned into me. “I’ve got a couple broken ribs,” she added. It felt odd how she looked around with her eyes open so wide, but it was understandable considering that to her, this was absolute darkness.

“Will you hurry?!” Bear let out a short wheeze, arms tightening slightly. The chains shivered all around us, and the sound of shifting rubble overhead made my hairs stand on edge.

Rather than wait, I picked Vesper up and crossed the distance, ignoring her slight yelp of surprise. “We’re here.”

With a hasty nod, Bear began shifting her stance to something closer to a standing position. The bubble of chains shivered, retracting into her body slowly, shrinking the space around us from something comparable to a full apartment down to a living room, then smaller still until it was small enough I could lay down on the floor and touch either end at the same time.

Though the chains obstructed the view, they didn’t obstruct the cloud of dust and powdered cement, nor the deafening sound of a building or two shifting to fill in the space. The weight over us was still trying to crush us, and the only thing keeping it at bay were Bear’s chains.

“I can’t send a ping. We’re being jammed.” Vesper’s grip on my arm tightened. Her words faltered, then looking up at me, she brought a digit up to her lips and made a shushing gesture, then emphatically shook her head.

My stomach did a flip. I had to remind myself that Bear couldn’t see the gesture. She didn’t think it was a good idea to transform. And I had to agree with the assessment. Even if we assumed Bear would have no problems with this reveal, there were too many potential complications that might come from revealing that secret to others.

Especially if it were others watching.

That, and making myself larger in this cramped space could put Vesper at risk. “Bear, what’s the situation?”

“It’ll take some time, but I can get us out, just…” She groaned, pulling her arms closer to her body. “...never done this with passengers.”

“I bet,” Vesper whispered under her breath.

There was a pause. Bear frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She grimaced. “Nothing. We don’t have time to waste.”

Bear’s face made clear she wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, I have no time. You can just sit back and let the meguca do the dangerous work.”

The words hit a nerve. Vesper’s whole body coiled like she was ready to draw her gun and do something with it. I squeezed her hand, then tightened the grip until she stopped glaring in Bear’s general direction. “I think I can hear gunshots outside,” I said, trying to break whatever was going on between them.

“This was an ambush. A stupid one.” The meguca was moving her arms slowly, and though I couldn’t feel what exactly she was doing with her powers, the sound of shifting rubble never ceased. “This is what happens when you don’t put your foot down, Axel.”

Her statement caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Not saying that you should’ve been running around while you were injured, but your absence has been giving people ideas.”

“Ideas?”

“Ideas that you can be killed,” Vesper growled.

“Exactly,” Bear agreed. “No one would go after a meguca because even if they do off her, they won’t be alive much longer.” She let out a loud snort, grinding her right arm in a slow circular motion as the rumbling overhead became louder. “But as far as anyone’s concerned, the Saints don’t have a meguca, and the guy lending his strength is there for hire.” The meguca slowed a moment, enough to look in my general direction with a serious face, the following words heavy with meaning. “The impression of strength is just as important as actual strength.”

The chains rattled dangerously around us, contracting as plumes of dust began to choke out the air.

“Fuck!” Bear swore under her breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The chains were shrinking more, Bear’s arms shaking with strain. “That was a bad move.”

“What’s going on?” Vesper asked between coughing fits.

“I’m navigating blind,” she gasped, coughing. “I just knocked the support out of something heavy.”

My eyes widened. “Bear, what’s the determining factor for your chains' strength?”

“What?”

“Are the chains tied to your body’s abilities or is it independent? How does your power work?” I pushed.

“That’s a seriously fucked up thing to ask a me-” She choked, then gasped as the sound of grinding metal and stone constrained all around us. “If I can lift more my chains are stronger!”

I reached out and placed my hands on her shoulders. “This will feel weird, so don’t make any sudden moves.”

[Inheritance Protocols]

Strength (+5) -15 AP
Strength (+5) -15 AP
Strength (+5) -15 AP

Trait (Tuning Horns) -15 AP

AP: 39 / 300

The last one was a gamble. I didn’t have anything else that could potentially give her visibility beyond the chain cocoon around us. But having seen how Shadow’s powers reacted to the Shimmer enhancement, I hoped that Bear’s powers would make it easier to turn the rubble overhead into powder.

“WHAT-” Her back arched.

The change hit her instantly.

Two curved jagged protrusions of blue light erupted from her temples, trailing upwards and then back, like a crown of jagged lightning. They turned the darkness around us into a mosaic of shadows and sparkling chains. “What… what the fuck…” Bear rasped.

Then the chains started to hum.

The sound started low, a bass note that came from each individual link all at the same time. Bear’s head snapped up, eyes widening as she suddenly moved her hands towards the ceiling as if reaching out for something only she could see. “I can hear it,” she muttered, her voice layered with harmonics. “It’s…”

“Axel, what the fuck did you give her?!” Vesper hissed under her breath, covering her ears, quickly shifting from one leg to the other, as if the floor was hot.

“Tuning horns,” was the only answer I could provide, plucking her from the ground in a princess carry and ignoring the shocked yelp.

Whatever Bear was doing, it was transmitting through the chains, and I wasn’t sure it might actually hurt Vesper to be in contact with it directly. At least I had confidence that I could probably tank the blowback thanks to [Unbreakable Bones].

“The monster that power came from could shatter rocks from a distance.” I still had enough AP for two more enhancements, but I was keeping those in reserve just in case.

“Cover your ears.”

The warning came a fraction of a second too late for my senses.

I barely had time to tighten my grip on Vesper before the frequency hit.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH

It was not a sound. It was a physical aggression of the air pressure in the small pocket of space we occupied and drilling into my ears, it sank its teeth directly into the soft, wet meat of my brain.

My vision smeared into white streaks. The nausea hit me with the force of a gut punch, nausea climbing up my throat. Vesper clamped her hands on my ears but it barely did anything against the vibrations that were penetrating through my bones.

The only thought in my head being that I should’ve seen this coming.

Next time I’ll find better earplugs.

For a while there was only that one flat tone living behind my eyes. My tongue tasted like rust and old plaster.

The chains shivered.

“Quit wriggling,” Bear growled. Her voice sounded like it was coming through a bad speaker.

I tightened my hold on Vesper. “Not planning on it.”

Bear was listening to the world above us. I could tell from the way her eyes were half-lidded, head tilted, like she was catching something threaded through the grinding rubble. Her hand jerked up.

The chain cocoon lurched.

The whole mess of chains shoved upward like an elevator that got the power back on, dragging our little pocket of space with it. The sound of concrete scraping over metal bit through my eardrums. It was like being inside the dentist drill. I swore under my breath as I fought to remain standing upright even as my footing became a lot less sure.

The next shove came faster as we continued to move.

At first the outside noise was just a low rumble smoothed by all the stone between. Then something sharp cut through the ringing. A pop. Another. Short bursts stacked on top of each other. Followed by the sort of concussive thuds that could only mean explosives.

“Hold on,” Bear snapped.

We shifted sideways, my boots slid and my shoulder slammed against the chains. Vesper hissed and said something I couldn’t make out because the drilling sound now had a closer point of contact with my skull. The smell of smoke was mixing in with the concrete dust and dirt.

A new sound joined the torture, barely there, but present and shifting too rapidly to ignore. Not bikes. Higher. Meaner. 

“You hear that?” I said.

“I hear everything,” she grunted. Sweat tracked down her neck, cutting clean lines through the grime. “Drones.” As she said this, the chains around us began to slow down, the vibration softening.

Bear sucked in a long breath and planted her feet as much as she could in the cramped space. “Packed rubble,” she said. “Right over us. I can’t dance around it. But after that is open air, and it’s a warzone.”

Vesper racked her gun.

My Bulstra sat heavy on my hip. “What’re we up against aside from drones?”

“Can’t tell with all the buzzing and shooting.” The hum in the chains changed, dropping lower, a baritone that made the air shake, charging up, her new horns glowing with more intensity, teeth bared in a snarl.

The world screamed.

The sound turned to pressure, oppressive against everything around us, punching straight into my lungs. Like being inside a struck bell but one with a ringing too low to hear with anything other than my bones. The chains around us turned into one solid ringing object, every link vibrating in sympathy. The scream went up through them and into the rubble above.

Something gave.

Weight shifted. Streaks of sunlight pierced through the chains, carrying with them the taste of hot metal and fuel. The number of gaps intensified, until it was clear the chain cocoon was no longer underground.

“Stay put and protect Vesper, I’ll handle this.”

Bear’s warning didn’t even wait for an acknowledgement. The chains pulled away and exposed us to the blinding light of the sun. I flinched, eyes streaming, the air went from stale to scorching, feeling more than seeing as Bear pulled away. The chains unfurled like a web of living metal as she shoved her way forward.

For a second, everything was just noise. Without the rubble to muffle it, each shot and explosion was a separate blow. Bursts of automatic fire rattled the air. And through it all there were maybe a dozen still flying, scattered overhead the convoy in loose loops. I saw smashed pieces of a few more in the street, torn rotors and broken housings trail-smoking in the heat haze.

They were small, ugly things. Some had twin rotors stacked vertically, others stubby wings and top-mounted fans, all with a squat gun slung underneath and a bulge where their bellies ought to be. The engines gave off that sick climbing whine as they dived, dropped as they climbed again, never quite in tune.

“Don’t,” Vesper whispered harshly as she clutched my leg. She was pale, covered in dust, her violently pink hair looking more like snow, and her face twisted in a mix of fury and fear. Her eyes were shifting every which way as she held her gun with the other hand, but kept going back to me. “We can’t lose you.”

The drones were improvised, built in someone’s garage, and there’d been at least a few dozen more of them judging by the debris strewn all around the convoy. The Saints and the Paws were huddled and taking cover within the buildings at the opposite side of the street, having abandoned the vehicles since they provided no real protection from overhead gunfire.

I counted at least a dozen bodies between the convoy and the buildings.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” I grit out the lie, feeling my blood boil.

We had a good line of sight with the fight, but if the drones took notice of our location, we would be forced to make a run for it. My gaze kept tracking them as they hung over the other building and keeping it surrounded.

They were not being remotely controlled. You could see it in how they flew. The exact same angles, same arcs, same patterns. One peeled off its attack run, climbed, circled, then repeated the exact line, stitching fire over a car that was already burning.

Bear approached the swarm the same way a grenade would a Mouther pack.

Her glowing chains had shoved her into the air in an arching trajectory as they coiled around her, turning her figure into a tight ball. The moment the drones had noticed her approach and turned to open fire, she’d reached the zenith, unfurling the metal chains like a dozen separate whips, spreading out in every direction with the violent sound of an explosion.

Half the drones got caught up in the attack, either exploding or turning into debris that was scattered in every direction. The other half abruptly turned to ignore her and lurched straight towards the half-torn building.

A suicide run.

“Shit!”

I pulled out the Bulstra and took aim, with Vesper doing the same at my side, both of us unloading what little we had on the drones. Four of them exploded midair before they could make it. 

On the far side, a guy in a jury-rigged harness braced himself on a car hood, firing a launcher that spat a thick cable instead of a bullet. The tether wrapped around a low-flying drone with a hard metallic slap. The engine pitch jumped as it fought the drag. The guy swore, hit a stud on the side of the launcher, and the cable went rigid.

The drone yanked sideways into a wall and burst, its explosive charge going off in a dirty flash that peppered brick and showered the street with dead metal.

Mid screams, someone else tossed a metal can the size of a fist into the path of a diving drone. It pulsed once in midair, silent and sharp. The drone’s whine cut out mid-note. It just fell, slamming into the asphalt so hard the casing shattered, the explosive inside spilling uselessly across the road in pale beads.

Bear intercepted the rest, having speared a chain into the asphalt and yanked herself forward like a bowling ball, her chains wiggling wildly midair and tearing everything else out of the sky.

“Cute toys,” the meguca spat, making her way inside to check on the survivors. “These aren’t factory made.”

“We-” I’d almost stepped out of the hole when Vesper yanked me back inside. “What?”

“This isn’t a monster fight,” she hissed, eyes searching wildly around us. “It’s never clear even after things go quiet. Sometimes they have a second wave and are just waiting for everyone to lower their guards. And we’re still being jammed.”

So the drones had been on some complex auto-pilot, that explained the behaviour. If they’d been remote controlled, then they could’ve likely had a better chance at overwhelming the gangs. Either that, or Bear was right and I’d been the objective all along. With the drones being the Plan B in case I’d dodged the demolition.

“Have you done this often?” I asked back, warily searching for any sign of trouble.

“Had a cousin, she ended up as fodder for inner city gang wars.” Her lips thinned. “We never had that sort of violence out here, monsters are what matter most to fourthers, but I wouldn’t discard the possibility just yet.” She eyed the building Bear had gone into. “Whoever did the attack knew Bear would survive this, but was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“That’s a lot of assumptions.” I replied. “If I were targeting Bear and had nothing but cheap explosives and drones, dropping a building on her would be my best bet.”

“If you were targeting Bear you would’ve done your homework and known someone had tried that before and failed.” Vesper replied flatly. “You were the target.”

“But why?” My gaze kept shifting to the bodies littering the street. Did I know any of them? We were too far to be able to tell, but at least three had Saints shirts on them. Who were they? “Why do all this just to get to me?”

“You showed up in the stream yesterday, and the Saints have a monopoly on the food supply. This was a golden opportunity for them.” She growled, slowly standing up to check the perimeter again. “Thank fuck we took steps to keep your face hidden or they could’ve just done a hit on you while you were just going for a protein shake or something.”

As I was looking around, I spotted a glimmer coming from one of the rooftops and immediately ducked, yanking her down with me. “Sniper!” I hissed. “Are we still being jammed?”

“Yes.”

What was the point of jamming? It took away tactical advantage in a fight, preventing communication with your own tools. But there was one more possible reason. 

I leaned down to the rubble, hefting up several torso-sized chunks, creating a small pocket for someone to hide in. “The jamming is probably to keep them from being spotted by one of our drones.”

Vesper tensed. “Axel, do not-” She looked at the hole. “...no.”

“It’s the best-”

“If you take a step out of this hole, I will shoot your foot.” Glaring, she held the gun at her side, not aimed at me, but clearly ready. “Let Bear deal with this shit.”

I hesitated. “She’s a meguca, if-”

“If you die, the Saints die.”

“If I die, then the Saints just-”

“No.” She tightened her grip on the gun, finger on the fingerguard, hand shaking slightly. “If she takes over, then the Saints die. I know you don’t get why that is important to us, but it is.” Her glare tightened. “So you can either break my hand and stop pretending I’m the leader, or stand the fuck down, Axel.”

We both knew I could get the gun from her before she could react, yet she did not waver. “This could be our only lead. I can’t just let them go.”

“And you think I plan to?” she asked with a growl. “I’m asking you to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Neither of us moved.

Slowly, I raised my hands.

“Fine.” I conceded. “There’s a building with a glimmer on the rooftop, maybe a kilometer south. I saw someone aiming at us with a rifle from inside the building, second window down, first to the left, I wouldn’t have spotted them if I couldn’t see in the dark. But I couldn’t make anything out beyond the weapon and the shape of a person.”

Vesper stared at me blankly. “How the fuck are you not augmented?!”

I shrugged.

“Can you…” She paused, then frowned. The frown deepened further. Vesper drew letters on the piece of debris.

‘Can Bear hear us?’

I shrugged. “I don’t know what we can do,” I said. [Tuning Horns] was something I hadn’t tested out yet, and there was no way to be sure how it might have interacted with Bear’s powers.

She nodded. “Bear’s our best bet, and I’m sure they’ll book it the moment they notice she’s gone.”

‘Can U track? As shush?’

I grimaced, remembering the tracking mode. If I amplified my senses far enough, maybe I could find a scent. But I couldn’t be sure, it wasn’t like I’d hunted people like this, and my combat form seemed a lot more sensitive to monster related signs than human ones. “Maybe.”

She nodded. “We’ll have to stay put for now, hope nothing-”

BOOM

I’d felt the blast through the ground before I’d heard it. Something heavy had gone off, yet neither of us moved to check what it might have been. The threat of the possible sniper remained. “We can’t stay in this hole indefinitely,” I said flatly.

“Bear! You alive!” Vesper shouted.

Silence.

“Yeah!” Came the shout after a moment. “Just dealt with the second wave. Crawler bots. Tried sneaking up on us.”

‘And sniper?’ I wrote.

“There might be shooters on the southern and eastern buildings!” Vesper called out. “Don’t expose yourselves!”

“Anyone have any idea on where the jammers are?” I called.

“No,” someone answered from the street. “Still blind.”

Vesper’s jaw tightened. “Quinn?” she shouted. “Quinn, talk to me!”

“Working on it!” Bear’s voice came. “You’ll know when we get them!”

The chains made a distinctive sound when she moved them in earnest, a scraping slither that vibrated through the rubble. It took several tense minutes before she spoke up again.

“Found it,” Bear yelled.

My earpiece cracked to life. “Testing,” I heard Vesper’s voice through the channel. It was a bit unnerving to hear the words even as she lay next to me without having opened her mouth. But that was one of the advantages of the neuralink I lacked.

“We hear you,” Quinn answered.

“Report,” she said, voice dropping.

“We lost Matthew, Lisa, Henry, Bolton, and Johnny. The Paws took more losses. Half the convoy would take hours to repair at best.” The words were strained. “The only reason they didn’t throw more at us is because Bear’s here and they don’t have a guca.”

“Or the balls to reveal their faces,” Isia’s voice was heavy with poison. “You?”

“Some broken ribs. Axel’s alive. Currently in a hole outside, got a sniper south of us somewhere, not taking any chances.” Vesper replied. “How’s the sky looking?”

“Doing a sweep. Not detecting anything on the electromagnetic spectrum. If there are more drones, they’re offline right now.”

“I’ll get you guys out,” Isia said. “Got some smoke grenades I’ve been sitting on.”

“Wait,” I quickly spoke up. “If you have smoke grenades, it’s best to coordinate with everyone. With that much cover, we could coordinate to get a proper barricade set-up. Otherwise none of the vehicles or supplies are getting out of here.”

“He’s got a point.” Vesper agreed.

“The longer we sit here the likelier someone tries to take a gamble on Axel again,” Quinn pointed out.

Vesper’s eyes lit up as she looked at me. “And that’s why we’ll split.”

Her fingers traced a single word.

‘Hunt’