The magical meets the mundane, explosively
They had all taken turns choosing music and talking over it. At times, the conversation drifted toward serious matters. Luke gave Gradie reminders on combat; focus one thing at a time, communicate, if the fire stops there’s a problem. Lindsey advised him to keep his thoughts simple and let the Hardworlds figure it out.
“Subtle, positive thoughts. More like just an attitude at first, till you get the hang of pushing. Most important thing is to not over think it.”
Gradie queued up bodies on bodies by Vio-lence and bit down on the statement “I overthink everything” so it didn’t get out.
The window, cold and clear, held broken glass-shaped pieces of light that slid slowly across the matte blackness then zipped away, only to return, reborn, identical on the other side of the window as another streetlight came on.
Cars fell behind them, beaten, unable or unwilling to match their pace. No Saturday night excitement here. These were the forgotten people. On their way to weekend jobs, graveyard shifts, parking lot drug deals. The warehouse must be close. Would it feel like this, too real? Grinding across a highway, boxed in between glass and breath and metal, all those cars rubbing by. Inescapable reality.
He closed his eyes to block it out and saw the daylight shootouts, broken in pieces and lit by something not like sunlight. They all felt like dreams now, and he couldn’t believe he had been there. How had he been so scared? How could he forget none of it could harm him?
“Don’t fall asleep!” Sam swerved.
“Fuck!” He yelled.
“No naps on this field trip!”
He looked through the windows, but didn’t see the warehouse looming anywhere. He grabbed between his knees and felt nothing. Brief panic. The X95, left behind in the SUV. Cops picking over it now, or had already stuck it in some drawer, useless. He hoped not to end up the same way. His hand moved to his hip and he felt the five-seven. It fired in his mind and Paul dropped dead. The triumph was wilted by his inexplicable distance from the moment, beat away by the conversation, the car noise, the slivers of light again on the glass, obscured it. Like he had dropped the moment on the floor and after clawing it out from under the seat, found it dusty, with hair and scraps stuck to it.
Somehow, he managed to get hold of the moment again, briefly. But its context was lost. How had he done it? It didn’t even feel like him now. None of them did, those other Gradies. He was the highway. The hum, that was him. The sensation of moving, the direction of motion, unthinking, slipping away, untethered-
The music exploded as Sam cranked the dial and Gradie shot up again.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“All right. I’m good!” He shook himself. Sam flicked her blinker on and he almost threw up. They lost speed and the cars passed them now, an unsettling reversal. The ramp dropped downward like a rollercoaster, reminding him that this was supposed to be fun. An astral projecting gunfighter, that’s what he had thought he would be. All the missed shots from the past two days rang out in his head. Who misses in a dream?
“Park in the lot and look over the maps,” EP said in their ears.
Gradie pulled up his phone. The area looked like a motherboard from space, all big rectangles cut up by the grey lines of streets, surrounded by an oval of highways. The distribution center was surrounded by an empty field, the highway, and one massive warehouse. A live drone feed tagged vehicles, including theirs, and a small sedan speeding out of the DC back lot.
“Cleared out the guard,” EP said.
“He leave the gate up?” Philip asked.
“Yep.”
“All right. I’m coming in. Kate, come in behind me.” The drone tagged an eighteen-wheeler as it accelerated down a side road. Sam sped across the lot and around the DC. It was a big block of shadow and amber light that rotated like a thing waking up. headlights on the highway flew by thirty feet up in the air.
“All right team,” Michael said on the line. “Got some good news before we get started. The other warehouse to the west is vacant, and as you can see, the highway is up on an earth berm to the east…”
Luke was already smiling when Michael delivered the good news.
“So, I’m clearing you for all weapons. But watch your angles—”
Luke danced in his seat and Lindsey sighed with relief.
“—be prepared for that to change. Good luck.”
“All right, here it is,” Philip said. Another map opened on the app. This one was a layout of the DC.
“The target’s in one of the returns pallets, in this area.” He drew a circle in red around the far northwest corner of the building. “They’re shipping it all to a liquidator on Monday, so there could be a good number of them.”
“There’s twelve,” EP said.
“Shit. Anyway, Alan will start searching the pile immediately after getting geared up.”
Gradie looked at Luke, who just nodded. Was he really going to be digging through fucking retail returns while a gunfight broke out?
“The rest of us will set up around this conveyor mezzanine area.”
Another circle traced around an area that looked like mesh on the layout, just below the returns section.
“Positioning as such.”
Icons appeared on the map, initials of the team members, in spots around the mesh, and lines radiated out from them denoting fields of fire. Gradie saw his own “AL” in the corner, away from the others.
“Set-ups gonna involve a lot of barrier pallets and explosives at key entry points. As far as the actual fight, it’ll be LMGs and launchers across the board, so make them pay for every second they’re inside. When shit gets ugly, fall back under cover to the mezzanine here.” He marked the core of the mesh area.
“With a building this size, they’re gonna prod until they have an idea where we are, then try and force a single point of failure. We’ve got the defensive edge, but they can maneuver outside through the lot unopposed. Luckily, we don’t have to kill all of them, we just have to run out the clock. Assuming you do your job, Alan.”
“This is gonna be fucked,” Luke said excitedly.
“Well, we already got rule one covered,” EP said.
“What’s rule one?” Gradie asked.
“Get there first.”
Philip got out of the truck as Sam got the door to the truck office open. He was already wearing strange dark coveralls and a plate carrier, topped off with a helmet and NVGs.
“If I buzz yall it means I’ve got traffic and you’ve got two minutes to set up, so stay frosty,” EP said. Something was beeping behind her voice, and she sounded like she was in the middle of an adrenaline dump.
The door squeaked open with an ominous echo, and they all slipped inside like a knife.