Floor 21- Dark Angel Read online

  And about then’s when a Suicider overhead sends down two rockets that hit that weakened building dead on. When it happens, debris goes flying everywhere, pummeling the street in bits and chunks. Cynthia and Mandy dodge out of the way and hold back for a second, waiting for things to clear before they keep running. Then, there’s just this long moment when she’s cut off from the rest of the group, when it’s just the two of them stuck halfway between the other side of the street and the Green Zone. Caught in the crossroads. That’s when the wall of the building behind them starts leaning forward, groaning as it splits away from the rest of the structure. The whole metal cladding literally rips from its concrete base like a giant sheet of paper, and then it’s falling. Toward them.

  There’s this second when I know I’m screaming, but it’s almost like I can’t hear myself. I can just see Cynthia grabbing Mandy’s hand and trying to pull her forward, toward me. Then Mandy trips, and Cynthia hits the ground to try and pull her up, but it’s too late. They’re trapped. It’s too late for them to get away, to run. And they’re looking at me the whole time, screaming for me to do something, but I can’t get there in time. There’s just this thick piece of metal siding that’s coming down right on top of them, and all I can do is look Cynthia in the eyes as it’s happening. Look her in the eyes as she’s holding onto Mandy and clutching her to her body.

  But that’s when something . . . else, happens. Fire. At the last second, all I see is . . . It looks like a missile hits the ground, because it’s a streak of fire that just explodes around the pavement. Everything ignites just a second before the façade crashes down, and I can feel someone grabbing me to keep me from running out onto the street. To see what happened. And I’m just . . . I’m screaming, and screaming, not really processing what I just saw, but also . . . Confused, because the façade is moving. You can actually hear the metal groaning, like something’s pushing upward from beneath it. Tons of metal that’s getting pushed upward. Somehow.

  Which is when . . . it starts to lift, and I . . . I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Because standing up, lifting up the façade, is a person. They’re armored, like some of these suits we’ve been fighting, but . . . lighter. The suit’s a lot smaller, and it’s coated all in black. This person pushes upward with both of their arms and just holds up a steel façade that’s got to weigh more than a dozen people could lift. And under this . . . this person, there’s Cynthia and Mandy. They both look shell shocked, like they don’t understand what happened. None of us do.

  But they’re okay.

  I’m staring at them, waving at them to cross the street. Fire’s burning in a half circle around them, but they clear their way through it while this stranger holds the metal façade up, broad arms and shoulders bracing against all that weight. Cynthia and Mandy start to run, and the whole time, this person’s staring dead at me. They’ve got a helmet on, and all I can really make out are the two crimsons eyes that are burning against the rest of their armor. The second Cynthia and Mandy are safe, this person walks forward, steps out from under the facade, and lets it slam into the ground. Thing drops with enough force that it would’ve killed anyone.

  Should have.

  For a second, this stranger keeps staring at me. I don’t know what to say, if a thank you is even enough. I’ve got Cynthia and Mandy in my arms, and I’m staring and . . . I can’t talk. Just . . . stare. Finally, whoever this is just gives me a nod and looks up. While I’m still looking at them, the air at their back ignites with fire that rises to the sky behind them in curved directions, like wings. Angel’s wings. Then the fire cuts down into the pavement and they’re lifting off, heading into the air and burning a trail across the sky.

  For the first time, I realize I’ve got a voice screaming into my ear. It’s Colonel Martin. “Chapman? What did you see? What did you just see?”

  I shake my head and just keep staring into the sky for a second. Finally, I say the only thing I can. “The Dark Angel. I saw the Dark Angel.”

  Tommy’s Recording 14

  By the time we’re coming up on two in the morning, I’m buckled down with the rest of my guys behind the walls at Central Primary. All my communications are being channeled through the war room while the generals try and coordinate the defense. That comms traffic means my ear keeps bursting with updates every few seconds as information comes in and orders get sent out, and each time I get an update, I can feel my teeth grinding.

  “Half a dozen tanks on approach from the eastern entryway, moving along Fifth Avenue. Raiders spotted flanking . . .”

  “Eyes on power armored walkers from the west, moving along 42nd Street . . .”

  “Furies on approach from the south along 5th Avenue . . .”

  I just mumble under my breath. “Damn. They did everything but come in by boat.” My eyes go over the garrison walls and down the street. I’m facing the direction those walkers should be coming, standing alongside a line of my guys. If they don’t have a rifle or a missile launcher in their hands, they’re manning one of the wall mounted heavy machine guns that are posted up all around the garrison. Those things are huge, bigger than anything we could ever carry in our hands. They’re also about as big as the rifles those walkers are hauling around with them.

  Patel looks over at me. “Do you think we have a chance?”

  “Oh, we’ve got a chance. Couldn’t tell you how much of one we have though. I mean, I’ve never fired on one of these walkers before.”

  “These rounds can’t penetrate tank armor, and it doesn’t look like they can penetrate that power armor, either.”

  “Well, yeah. I know that. Way to kill the mood, Patel.” I suck in a breath and almost whisper, “Sometimes you just have to hope for a miracle.”

  “Those things have to be powered by a Pocket Space engine.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. If they can be installed on a repulsor bike, then they can certainly fit in those things. Where I’m from, you’re never surprised by the kind of tech you find.” I’m about to keep talking when the map display in my goggles starts flashing. “Wait a minute. I think we’ve got action coming.”

  “Walkers?”

  “We’ll find out.” I press up against the wall, and the zoom on my visor kicks in. Suddenly, I’m seeing more than a mile down as a heavy transport starts rumbling out of a cloud of smoke. It’s loaded with speakers and flanked on both sides by those walkers. Those things are huge when you see them for yourself. Their heads clear the transport’s roof, by a lot. “Those things have got to be seven or eight feet tall. You’re telling me they’re mobile?”

  “I’m not the one to ask, captain.” He stops for a second before saying anything else. “Does their armor look thick?”

  “Well, it doesn’t look good, I could tell you that much.” I start broadcasting to everyone stationed on the wall. “I need focused fire, no downtime. Gunners, you keep the street flooded. They shouldn’t be able to walk without taking a bullet. Rocket teams, hold on my order to fire. We know how inaccurate these launchers are at long range so wait until they’re close and put so many explosives in the air that they don’t have anywhere to run.”

  I’ve barely got the orders out when I look back down the street. That transport comes to a stop, but the walkers keep marching. “Looks like the transports holding back until the walkers do their job. That’s fine, let’s just do ours.” Still, I keep my eye at the back of their lines for a second longer, until I see the passenger door open up. I wish I could say I’m surprised when I see that shaved head of Erin’s leaning out of the door, but I’m not. He’s got a mic in his hand, and a second later, we’re listening as those speakers blast his words down the street.

  “Told you we’d been doing a little digging, didn’t I, you Central dogs? Well, how’s this for equipment? How’s this for armor superiority? Because you’re about to get a little payback for all those years you grew fat here on your island. Your time’s come due, for your betrayals and crimes.” He nods our way and says
one last thing into his mic. “Do your job, boys.”

  There’s almost no time between when he stops talking and when those armored walkers start flying down the street. I can see the repulsors on their backs lighting up, throwing a blue light along the ground as they start charging at us. They must cross a quarter of mile in what I’d swear is seconds before I’m shouting into my headset. “Gunners, open fire!”

  The display on my visor’s telling me those walkers are closing distance at a speed that’s unbelievable, so I’m just glad when every gun around me starts coming to life. My helmet’s doing overtime blocking out some of the noise, but there’s still a nonstop ring of bullets filling up my ears, like a rat-tat-tat that happens without any breaks. Suddenly, the street’s just a stream of bullets from one end to the other. Every inch of the road is lit up, but as fast as I can blink, those walkers thrust upward. They’re going skyward, not like they’re flying, but like they’re leaping. At least half a dozen of them just plow right through the sides of the surrounding buildings, tossing concrete along the street. You don’t see the walkers for a second until they explode out of the opposite sides of those buildings, erupting back into the air. When they do, they start flying back to the ground, but they’ve got their rifles up and pointed right on us.

  “Hit the deck!” I scream, and suddenly everyone’s throwing themselves aside just a second before the floor underneath us goes flying apart. In my ear, I’m hearing chattering as voices scream. It’s all focused on one word. “Energy weapons?” They’re right to be worried. Those damned rifles tear through the garrison wall like it’s not there. The walkway underneath us buckles as blue beams of light tear holes right through the deck, and I see guys around me dropping the entire fifteen feet to the pavement below. My gut twists when I see them slam hard into the ground, but I’ve got zero seconds to focus on it, because I barely get away myself before the floor underneath me falls away.

  I’m panting as I jump onto an unmanned machine gun and start scanning the street. My hands lock around the two handles and I start squeezing on the triggers, turning an arc and following one of the walkers as they speed toward the walls. “Gunners, keep your aim high. Missiles, weapons live,” I bark as I see the raiders getting so close that I can almost see the words stamped onto their guns. There’s at least a half dozen walkers scattered across the street, but every bit of the pavement beneath them becomes nonexistent in the next second. Fireballs start erupting into the sky as explosions practically tear the foundation of the street apart, the air around me starting to smell like ash and evaporated concrete.

  Just like I’d predicted, these walkers are fast, but once they go skyward, they’re not that mobile. They’re stuck on their trajectory, and that’s where they’re vulnerable. My gunners are smart. They notice it too, and every rifle barrel follows the walkers as they fall back to earth. I can feel my breath get stuck in my chest when I see them shrug off almost every round, but a few bullets strike an exposed joint or hit the powered armor at a bad angle. When the walkers hit the ground, they slam hard into the pavement. Maybe it’s a gyro not working or something bad in their power source, but a few struggle to get up. When the next wave of rockets hit, they send those powered suits exploding in a thousand directions.

  I have zero time to celebrate before the wall gets battered again. Down the defense line, I see another half dozen of my men dropping as the wall underneath them crumbles apart. My eyes go back over the wall to see that armored transport closing in, clusters of rockets firing from its topside launcher. There’s a second when all I see are a dozen streaks of smoke headed my way, and I’m immediately jumping off of the wall. Literal Hell opens up around me as the explosion sends fire washing over me, my skin burning and my body flailing as I spin circles toward the ground. When I hit, I feel the air in my lungs burst out, and for a second I struggle just to understand what’s happening.

  I’m able to get myself onto my knees, but a second later I’m getting tossed forward again. I’m struggling to breath as everything around me turns into clouds of evaporated concrete, like there’s just a wall of grey fog and smoke surrounding me. Then, the screaming starts. My ears are filling up with rifle fire and more explosions as the walls explode apart, my guys getting sent rolling along the ground as bright bursts of energy fire cuts through them. In the smoke and darkness, I can see the silhouettes of giants, huge hands and glowing thrusters sending them tearing through our defenses.

  That’s when I feel myself just lifted off the ground. It’s not the first time in my life I’ve been tossed around like a doll, but it’s still completely terrifying. Through the smoke, I see a blue flash of light as one of those hulking walkers holds me up in its hands. It’s literally got its giant, robotic fingers locked around my waist, and nothing I do pries them off. I only struggle with it for a second before I hear a voice coming out of the smoke.

  “Thomas, my boy.” A second later, I see him walking into view. Erin. He’s wearing that smug grin of his, like he always does. “I seem to recall us being in a similar situation to this before. How’d that one end again?”

  I stare down at him. The guy’s half the size of the walker, but he’s staring at me like he’s the one who’s larger than life. “If you’re talking about the shootout at Minnewaska Preserve, then you must be talking about when I blew up your water station.”

  “I was thinking of a fonder memory,” he tells me as he pulls a pistol from his side. “Bring him down a little so I can get a clear shot. I want him to remember this one.”

  The giant arms of the walker drop about three feet, until my legs are dangling just a few feet above ground. I can see Erin walking up to me, waving that pistol around and trying to bring it up to my thigh. The second I kick at him, I feel those large robotic fingers squeeze, locking down around my hips and forcing all the air out of me. I suck hard and stop kicking when the fingers tighten, my sides feeling like they’re going to explode as the walker’s grip constricts around me. That’s when I feel the cold steel of that pistol push up against my thigh, the barrel pressing into my leg. Erin’s not smiling anymore. “Don’t think I enjoy this. It’s what’s got to be done.” His eyes move up to mine. “Now, last time, I took my shot from a distance. How do you think a round to the leg will feel when it’s this close? I can tell you what it’s going to look like. I’ve seen it before. Couldn’t tell you how long it’ll take your artery to bleed out, though.”

  There’s a second, when I’m clutching onto those giant hands around my waist and staring at Erin, that I brace myself for the pain that’s coming. If I’m being honest, right then, I can’t help but think . . . there’s no way I survive a shot like that. He’s going to shoot a hole through my leg wide enough to bleed me out in seconds. I’ll end up dying in a pool of my own blood, right there in the garrison, without any way to say goodbye to Mikey or Dodger. I guess it’s when I think about them that . . . that’s when I flinch.

  And then Erin’s head tilts to the sky, and he starts to say something. It never gets out of his lips. Suddenly, I see him go flying backward, like he just got slammed into by a car. Less than a second later, I’m falling to the ground as one of the walker’s arms goes collapsing into the pavement. As shocked as I feel when I hit the ground, I can’t really understand what’s happening, because everything in front of me is on fire. The walker’s stumbling back, grabbing at its side and trying to figure out what just happened to its arm, and the whole ground is burning in a circle around this . . . this person, with glowing crimson eyes. They’re standing there with a sword in their hand that’s burning. It’s a flame sword, like the ones we used to use to kill Creep back in the Tower, and the person holding it’s armored in all black.

  Erin starts screaming. “It’s the Angel! Get her!” And then there’s two walkers flying out of the shadows, riding on those repulsor thrusters and flying at this person. She turns at the last second and just cartwheels over one. As she’s turning over its back, her sword drags behind her and cut
s right through its repulsor pack. It detonates and sends the walker rolling along the ground, and a second later, she’s ducking as laser fire from the second walker start blasting through the air. She’s at least as fast as they are, maybe faster, and a hell of a lot more mobile. Its rifle follows her, blasting holes in the ground before she rolls toward him and brings her sword up, slicing the barrel clean off. For a second, that giant, robotic helmet of his turns toward his gun. The next second? The next second, she’s swung herself between his legs and clear to the other side. I don’t know what she rips out of his back, but it shuts down his entire suit of armor. All eight feet of him goes collapsing to the ground in a heap.

  The second he’s down, she looks at me. Her eyes are burning through the smoke that’s all around us, and for a second, I actually feel kind of . . . afraid? Yeah. I’m a little freaked out. She offers a hand out to me, and it takes me a second before I can actually return the gesture. Her fingers . . . They’re not like those on the walker. They’re strong, and they’re definitely armored, but they’re not big and clumsy. They feel closer to human. She pulls me off the ground and stares at me. Honestly, she’s not that much taller than me. Well, seven feet . . . Yeah. Her armor’s a lot more like an Angel’s and a lot less like a walker. Sleeker, more body tight, but you can see layers of flexible plating running down her body, with small pauldrons on her shoulders and gauntlets and boots protecting her arms and legs. When she finally says something, her voice is distorted, like it’s being run through a filter. “Are you hurt?”

  “Yeah, but . . . nothing that’ll kill me.”

  “They’re still attacking the east wall. Can you take control and push back those tanks?”