Floor 21- Dark Angel Read online

  “I mean, yeah. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to do than take on those walkers. We’re not going to have a lot of luck with them running around though.”

  “Those are mine.” When she says it, I feel my heart stop, like there’s something personal about dealing with those things. She gives me a nod before she turns and just . . . just explodes upward in a trail of fire, the sky behind her burning as she arcs away and toward whoever she’s targeting next. I feel like I’ve just seen something otherworldly, but I don’t stop to think about it long. I want to, don’t get me wrong. I really just want to run after her, but instead, I start moving from man to man, helping a few get up and gathering whoever’s mobile. The second I’ve got a group, I start heading for the east wall that faces Madison Avenue. The whole time we’re running, I just keep telling myself to keep calm. Handle these tanks. Protect the men. Then, you can worry about whoever this person is. Still, as we’re running, I hear a roaring and see that streak of fire burning its way across the sky. I’ll be honest. Right then, thinking that this person’s helping us, I feel a hundred times better about our chances.

  Battle of Central Debriefing

  Subject: Jasmine Khavari

  “I was securing the Green Zone and holding back raiders who were trying to break through. We weren’t the hardest hit, not from what I heard, but the raiders started to push our way later during the night. Maybe it was the chance to get food . . . I don’t know. What I know is it was just me and my section when two transports showed down the street. Both of them had heavy machine guns mounted on top. Pretty standard, but nothing we were equipped to fight. They were driving straight for us . . . I think they meant to smash through the Zone’s walls, bring down the greenhouse. We opened fire, but nothing we had could penetrate their armor. I could see Sergeant Astle getting ready to tell everyone to run, but right before he had a chance, we saw her fall out of the sky. It was like she was riding on fire, and when she landed, she came down right on top of the turret. She grabbed the raider mounting it, pulled him out, and threw him into the street. A second later, she dropped something through the top, like a bomb or something. She leaped and flew upward right before the bomb went off. It wasn’t lethal—we checked the transport for bodies after—but it knocked them all out. She went flying into the transport next to it and sent it tumbling onto its side. While they were down, we moved to take prisoners, but by then the Dark Angel had disappeared. All that was left of her was fire in the sky.”

  Subject: Michael Patel

  “After we finished bombing the first wave of tanks coming across Freedom Bridge, we got separated from the rest of our troop. We had to back off when the transports trailing the tanks pulled ahead and started firing on us. The walkway doesn’t offer a lot of protection, but we had enough cover to get away, at least until the Suiciders got there. I’m not sure we would’ve been able to get back to the ground . . . but we’d known the risk when we went up. It was never a question. I still kept trying to keep the team organized, but once the bombs started hitting, the walkway started to fall apart underneath us. One of the guys nearly went falling through. I barely had the chance to grab him and pull him back before he went tumbling over into the river. When the Suiciders circled around and started coming back for us though . . . that was the first time I thought we were going to die. A few seconds later, we saw this . . . It’s hard to describe. It was a streak of fire across the clouds. Right after that, a few of the Suiciders go flying into the river. Something knocked them out of the sky. We see a bunch of guys tumbling into the water, and that gives us just enough time to get off the walkway and back onto the ground. I didn’t get to look at her. I just mean I never saw her. I’ve been hearing the talk though. I know it was her. That Angel.”

  Subject: Tiffany Anne

  “Yeah, uh, I saw it. Her. I’ve seen them before though. I recognize it. The armor, I mean. Not her, exactly, but the armor . . . We’ve seen Angels before, you know? I’ve seen them, I mean, me and my friends, from when we used to live in the Tower. You can tell. Their armor’s like a second skin in some places. That walker armor the raiders use is bulky. Angels . . . It’s like their armor’s a part of them. I mean, they’re obviously still bigger than us, with those shoulder pads and gauntlets and stuff. It’s just, their body armor’s a lot more sleek, like, it’s what I’d rather be wearing to a fight. But, yeah, I was helping get people into the Green Zone. I don’t know when one of those tanks managed to get away from the rest. Maybe it got lost. I don’t know. It’s easy to get lost on the island. Still, I remember when we turned a corner, and it’s just like, there was the tank, staring right at us. There’s a second where all I could think was that, it’s over for us. I mean, its barrel is pointed right at us. And then, she just cuts out of an alley, right out of the shadows. And she does this thing where, one second, there’s nothing in her hand, but the next, it’s like a sword appears out of nowhere. I don’t know how it works, but she cuts right over the top of that tank, and I see her sword cut straight through the tank’s barrel like it doesn’t even exist. The whole thing just goes rolling off like was never there, and maybe five seconds later, she’s ripped the top of the tank off of the thing. I had to get everyone across the street, so I don’t know what happened to the crew inside. All I can say’s she did something with them, because that tank never started up again.”

  Subject: Carlos Martin

  “Are you kidding me? You can’t believe what I saw. Won’t believe what I saw. I’ll lose my position in the militia because everyone will think I’m insane. But I’m telling you, she cut right through the walkers that were hitting us. I know for damn sure she took out at least three of them in front of my eyes. She danced around them like they weren’t there. This lady, she must have jumped straight up ten feet and onto the head of one of those things. One of his buddies took a shot and blasted the head right off that walker suit. That rifle shot never came close to hitting her though. This woman summersaulted backwards and behind this guy who’s firing on her, and she cuts him right down the back when she does it. His whole repulsor pack explodes and shuts him down. Half a second later, she’s running away as the last of those walkers is taking shots at her. This person leaps up to the wall, kicks off it, rolls along that walker’s feet, and cuts out its legs at the kneecaps. Whole suit just goes collapsing. I never seen nothing like it. Yeah. I keep hearing the name. I know what they’re calling her. The Dark Angel? You better believe it.”

  Tommy’s Recording 15

  From what I can tell, Colonel Martin is barely holding himself back. I swear, it looks like he’s about to erupt or something. The guy’s face is so red you’d almost think he was a cherry. There’s video of the Dark Angel running on the screen behind him. The battle’s only been over for maybe half an hour, and already he’s having a meltdown over everything. “What the hell am I looking at here, doctor? I thought this was your area of expertise. Old World tech? This isn’t Carthage technology, I’ll give you that much.”

  Doctor John Watson. I swear, sometimes that man feels like he came from another world or something. He’s barely even paying attention to anything the colonel’s saying. Instead, the old guy’s got this smile on his face, like he couldn’t be happier to see this Angel on the screen. “Oh, my, no. It is certainly not Carthaginian technology. Those left footed amateurs could never engineer something so . . .” There’s this long pause and I swear, the man’s got a twinkle in his eye. “So elegant.”

  “Marvelous? Doctor, this thing is an existential threat to our city. I have video of this person cutting the arms off of walking robot suits strapped with armor plating that can withstand rifle rounds from the largest guns we have in our arsenal. Can you even explain that?”

  “Well, maybe if you’d stop panicking like a whimpering dog, you could wrap your mind around the basic principles behind how her sword works!” he growls, and for a second, everyone in the room’s eyes just go wide. We all know the doc gets like this, when he switches into that
other person he can be. A second later, he puts a hand to his temple and leans over. The poor guy’s bracing against the table like he’s about to collapse. “I . . . apologize, Colonel Martin, I sincerely do. It’s just the . . . My attacks, they do rile me up from time to time.”

  “I can appreciate that, doctor, but do we have any answers?”

  President Branagh raises a hand. “Doctor, we just want to know what we’re dealing with. Like the colonel said, this is a woman with power that’s almost unbelievable. Can you give us any insights into what we’re looking at?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. The, ah, the suit is quite obviously Apeiron technology.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Why, isn’t it obvious? The underlying design was common use for them before the Following Fall. Don’t you remember?”

  The president shakes his head and looks as confused as I’ve ever seen him. “Ah, no, doctor. Not all of us have lived for five hundred years, as you say you have.”

  “Of course. My apologies. Well, the suit’s design was standard for elite Security forces of the time. Although, this present variety has been heavily modified. There are quite certainly some more recent adaptations to the suit.”

  “Such as?”

  “The speed, amongst other things. Not to mention, these suits were never designed to fly. I’m given to understanding this young woman has been seeing flying through the air.”

  “Quite frequently, especially today.”

  “Well, as such, I’d say it is not beyond speculation that a very intelligent and very skilled scientist or engineer of some sort had this suit modified at some point in the past . . . hm. Two hundred? One hundred years ago? Yes. Yes, I’m quite certain of that.”

  “Great.” The president looks over at Martin. “Well, we’ve got a time frame. A five-hundred-year-old piece of Apeiron tech that was souped up at some point in the last century.”

  The colonel shakes his head. “But where the hell did it come from and what does it want?”

  “Well, it looks to me like it wanted to help tonight, Martin.”

  “And we know that’s going to be the case forever, Mr. President? We know we can trust this random would-be hero to be on our side forever? Do I have to remind everyone in this room that Apeiron played a part in letting the Creep invade our world? Or have we just forgotten?”

  “Nobody in this room’s forgotten, Martin.”

  “Then can you look me in the eyes and tell me this person won’t betray us? That we won’t have a knife stuck in our backs again?”

  Branagh’s about to answer when the whole room’s interrupted by a channel from the main control room. “President Branagh, this is Central Primary central comms.”

  “Yeah, Central, I know. You’re right outside the door.”

  “Yes, sir. I have . . . We’ve received reports that someone’s here to see you.”

  His hands run over his face. “If it’s anyone from Fort Silence who’s come here to rub their fingers in my face . . .”

  “No, sir. It’s . . . it’s her.”

  “Her?” For a second, it feels like everyone in the room sucks in a breath. “Her, who?”

  “. . . The Dark Angel, sir.”

  When we hear those words, there’s nobody in the room who doesn’t look like they’re both excited and a little scared. The president probably takes at least a minute before he finally says anything. “Well, if she wanted to bust in here, considering what she’s capable of, then I guess we’d already be looking down the edge of that sword of hers.” He takes a second to get ahold of himself, pressing out the wrinkles in his uniform before he talks again. “Alright, Command. Tell her . . . tell her we’re looking forward to meeting her.”

  “She’s coming in now, sir.”

  There’s maybe a few seconds between the time the line goes dead and when the door in the back room slides open. When she walks in, she’s just as impressive as I remember. Even in full light though, she’s just as intimidating as she was in the smoke. Tall, athletic, with that slick body armor that’s covered in plating. I realize for the first time that the tips of her gauntlets have openings, like claws could slide out, and her boots, for as sturdy as they look, are practically silent. Despite the tight layers of plating around her chest and shoulders, everything looks light and flexible. You can see why she’d be able to take a bullet and keep moving faster than almost anyone else. Then there’s that helmet. Everywhere she looks, those crimson eyes keep leaving trails, like fire. There’s no coverage over her mouth, so I’m not able to tell where the voice modulator she’s using is. Maybe close to her neck. I guess it doesn’t matter.

  The whole time I’m staring at her, she doesn’t say anything, almost like she’s shy. A little strange, right? Who’d be shy when they’re wearing a battle suit that can take out a tank? I guess the president picks up on it too, because he gets out of his chair and opens his arms wide. “Welcome to Central Freedom. My name is President Branagh, and . . . honestly, I couldn’t be prouder of what you did out there tonight. I don’t know who you are, or what you want. But, you saved hundreds of lives this evening. Thousands. Hell, if the raiders had cut us off from our food supply, then it would probably have been close to a million lives at risk between here and the outer colonies.” He points a finger at her. “You didn’t have to do any of this, but you did. So, from the bottom of my heart, for every man, woman, and child living on this island, I give you my eternal gratitude.”

  Her chest rises, like she’s about to say something . . . but she doesn’t. The president smiles and keeps talking anyway. “A woman of few words. I can respect that. I want you to know, though, that you are welcome here. Honestly, I’d love to just sit down and have a chat with you. Find out who you are. How we can help you in the very same way that you helped us.”

  This time, she lowers her head a little, and the crimson over her eyes disappears. For the first time, I see her actual eyes. Brown, like the earth. There’s a second when she looks right at me, and I just . . . I get this feeling, like something’s not settling in my stomach right. As she’s staring at me, it feels like there’s something in those eyes that I recognize, and even if I don’t realize I’m doing it, I find myself standing to my feet. I’m short of breath, and I don’t really get why. It’s like something inside of me clicks before my brain understands what’s going on. Then her hand goes to a button on her neck, and we see the helmet over her face disappear into blue light. The light fades out, and then I’m looking at her, but not . . . I just can’t believe what I’m looking at. Who I’m looking at.

  She looks up at the room, and I can see her swallow hard before she says anything. “You call me the Dark Angel. My name . . . is Jackie Coleman.”

  When she says it, when I hear her say it, my legs almost go out. I practically stumble forward, and I barely grab the table before I just pitch over onto the ground. All of a sudden, the whole room’s looking at me, but I don’t care. I’m . . . I’m stumbling. I’m stumbling toward her, and the second I’m in arm’s reach, I just grab her around the neck and pull her into me. I’ve got her locked against me, and I’m struggling to say anything. My eyes are burning, and I’m just standing there, sucking wind and practically wheezing before I can tell her, “I missed you, Jackie.”

  Her arm comes around my back, and I feel her squeezing. Her chin’s buried across my shoulder, and for a long second, she doesn’t say anything. We’re just standing together at the end of the room, holding onto each other, before she finally says, “I missed you too, Tommy. I came here to let you know . . . everything’s going to be okay.”

  OF OLD ACQUAINTANCES

  Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 09

  There’s a time for mourning, and a time for celebration. Any victory over the raiders is a time to celebrate, and the moment things calmed down, I knew our people needed some space to breathe. The men and women who came pulling into the walls of Central Primary had a reason to be proud after all they
did. Not that all of them were ready for festivities. I’ve been there. I know what it feels like. A lot of them lost friends. Some of them even lost family.

  We had the injured on beds as soon as we could, and anyone needing some space for themselves, got it. Sometimes people need to be alone. Other times, people need to talk, and that’s why we don’t undervalue how important our counselors are. Still, a lot of the men and women just needed a second to recognize what they’d done. They’d saved thousands of lives. They had a reason to celebrate that. So, when everyone was safely back behind our walls, we let everyone who wanted to celebrate have a go of it. Even rolled out the beer for the occasion. There are times when nothing beats a cold drink, and for a lot of people, tonight was one of those nights.

  I know Tommy was feeling pretty emotional. With all the commotion getting people settled in, we didn’t get a chance to ask him in any depth about how he knew the Dark Angel, but it was pretty clear they’d been friends at some point. That was good enough for me. Even Martin seemed to loosen up a little once he realized the two of them were close. Once Tommy got himself together, he marched himself out there to the courtyard to welcome back the troops. Him and the other officers had to do their duties and make sure their people were okay. It’s just good for everyone’s morale to see their leaders mixing it up after a rough night like we had. That’s why even Martin got himself out there.

  It’s fair to say that that the Dark Angel coming with us changed the whole mood of the celebration. Everyone was already relieved to be back. When she walked out there with me though, everyone got the sense that something had changed for Central. We had something new on our side, someone who could help turn the tide of the fighting in our favor. They didn’t swarm her. Either they were too afraid, or they just had good manners, but the men and women gave her some space. Still, a few came up to say thanks. She has a natural way with dealing with the troops though. Everything out of her mouth was about how she’d just been there to help and how it was the militia that really saved the day. She put all the credit on the troops. That’s the kind of attitude you can’t teach.