Chapter 6: No Turning Back

The world outside is a jumbled blur as Rina steers the vehicle to the left, tires shrieking on the damaged pavement. My heart hammers in my chest, and adrenaline floods my body. Milo curses loudly from the front seat.

BANG BANG.

The next shots hit the back of the car. Stopping before they can do much damage. Milo curses loudly, "Dammit, I knew this route was too good to be true!" he shouts, scrambling to grab his rifle. He has that wild look in his eyes that tells me he is more excited than scared, as if he has been looking for an excuse to shoot something all day.

Reza is already active, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Rina, get us some cover! Everyone else, get ready to move on my signal.”

Kana is silent, her face a mask of concentration as she pulls out a small device from her pack. She mutters something under her breath that I can’t quite catch. Probably a string of curses, given her track record.

Jax, surprisingly calm, leans back in his seat and cradles his weapon with almost casual ease. “Always the same story in this city,” he says quietly, almost drowned out by the clamor of guns. “People are becoming desperate, seeking to take what isn't theirs. But they forget: there's always a bigger fish.”

The car lurches to the side again as Rina makes a quick curve, the tires barely maintaining grip as we slide in behind a massive fallen concrete pillar.

I can see the horror in her eyes when she opens the partition but she's holding it together, her hands firmly on the wheel. She is the only one who is not attempting to appear brave; she is just doing her job.

Her voice is an octave higher than normal, “This… BANG… This is the best spot I could find. They will be right on the other side of the pillar. We are underneath the roof of a massive bank.”

Reza looks out the cracked window with a cunning glance. “It's an ambush,” she says, more to herself than to anybody else. “3-5 people, if I had to guess. They will have a spotter on top with the best rifle they have. Rina, you and Kana will try to take the spotter out. Jax, you will protect our backs and the right flank; you can bet they will have someone trying to attack from the building behind us or from the one to the right side. The left flank doesn’t matter because if someone attacks from there, then we are already surrounded and good as dead. Dev, take one of Milo’s backup pistols; your knife won't do you any good.”

So that leaves me, Reza and Milo to face our attacker head on, which I’m not really happy about. But arguing right now would be digging my own grave.

My heart races as I fumble for the pistol Milo shoves into my hand. It’s heavier than the last one I used, and I can’t help but notice the scratches and dents along the barrel—a weapon that's seen better days. Milo is already grinning like a crazy man, ready for the fight.

“Don’t get yourself killed, kid,” he says, clapping me on the back. “First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, first and last, if I screw up,” I mutter, trying to steady my shaking hands. My mind is racing as I try to remember every bit of combat training the Doc has given me.

The moment we climb out of the car, there is a BANG and a flash of light from the top of a building opposite and right of us, as the spotter fires a bullet that clips the edge of the roof before shattering the wooden desk near the entrance of the bank.

I duck behind one of the other fallen pillars. Rina is racing away into the lobby of the building, trying to get to the top? While Jax rushes to the right and takes cover behind one of the pillars that still stands. Partially protected from both directions while Milo and Reza stay near the car and behind the same pillar as the car.

The world snaps into sharp focus as the sound of gunfire increases. My breathing is shallow, and my heart is thumping as if it wants to leave my chest. I press my back against the cool concrete pillar, the pistol grip slipping in my sweaty palm. I feel like I'm holding a live grenade, not a gun, and the prospect of using it makes me want to vomit. I can't help but think how silly this is: me, Dev, trapped in some post-apocalyptic warzone, fumbling with a rifle that's probably older than I am.

“Stay low and keep your head on straight,” I whisper to myself, trying to force some of that Doc’s calm into my brain. His voice echoes in my head, reminding me of the basics: breathe, aim, don’t waste your shots, always keep moving. Easier said than done when every muscle in your body is screaming to run the other way.

Milo is already out in the open, his rifle drawn and ready, moving with a strange combination of wild zeal and lethal accuracy. He's like a kid in a candy store, except the candy is bullets, and I'm pretty sure he'll devour the entire bag.

I take a deep breath… Lift my pistol and peek out… I catch my first glimpse of the enemies.

There are well over 10 of them, contrary to Reza’s prediction. One is crouched behind a rusted-out holocar, and several have taken cover in what used to be a storefront, and the spotter is perched on top of the building. The muzzle of his gun points down at us, trying to line up a shot on Milo. He’s got the best vantage point, but also the biggest target on his back. Rina and Kana have to be moving fast if they want to take him down before he picks us off one by one.

I pick my target, a young woman with bright pink hair who holds a pistol like me, I fire a shot into the cover she hides behind, trying to gauge how much my shot drifts downwards and to the side because of the wind. It's a couple of inches from this far, which is workable. Duck behind my cover, then I rush over to another pillar and peek out again. This time the woman's head is up, her pistol pointed at my old position.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

I squeeze the tigger, my hand bucks and I duck behind my cover again.

Peeking out again, I find her slumped against her cover, her pink hair matted with blood.

I choke back the bile rising in my throat, my hands trembling so much that I can barely hold the pistol. I’ve never killed anyone before. Sure, I’ve seen dead bodies—more than I ever wanted to—but this… this is different. This is my doing. I did this.

The image of her slumped over, blood staining her ridiculous pink hair, is seared into my memory. I try to push it down and force it out, but it sticks and twists in my stomach like a knife. But it's a pointless effort; I know it'll linger around, much like my parents' deaths, who were also shot in the head.

I want to drop the gun, run away, disappear. But I can’t. Not now. Not when we’re all about to get shredded if I don’t keep it together.

Breathe, Dev, breathe.

I look over at Milo. He's laughing like a crazy man, practically dancing between bullets, his rifle spitting death with each pull of the trigger. How is he so calm? So... into this? The guy’s got a screw loose, no doubt about it. But maybe that is what you need to survive in a place like this.

“Milo, get your ass down!” Reza shouts over the gunfire. But Milo simply smiles, barely acknowledging her as he fires another round. The guy is absolutely in his element, relishing every moment of this madness.

I remain crouched behind my pillar, attempting to breathe through the guilt and panic that threaten to consume me. My hand is still shaking, and I can't get the image out of my mind. This is real. This is life or death.

“Dev, focus!” Reza’s voice cuts through the fog in my brain. “You did good. Now keep it together. We’re not done yet.”

I nod, not sure if I'm agreeing with her or simply trying to convince myself that I'm not entirely out of it. My hand steadies slightly as I tighten my grasp on the pistol, pushing myself to look at the battlefield.

Reza is already back in action, her motions are deliberate and accurate. She isn't like Milo, who appears to be having too much fun. No, Reza is all business, with every move planned and every shot aimed toward a specific goal. That has an almost soothing quality to it, as if she has everything under control even as the world around us falls apart.

Jax is holding the right flank; his expression is as unreadable as always. He fires a few shots, hitting the man who is attempting to flank us with chilling precision. He doesn't speak or respond to the chaos around him. He merely does his job as if it were any other day at the office. Maybe it is.

Another blast cracks through the air, and a chunk of concrete crashes near my head, spewing dust and debris everywhere. I sink lower, my heart skipping a beat. This is ridiculous. I am not cut out for this. I'm just a guy with a knife who was dragged into this nightmare.

But there is no going back now. I push myself to look around again, scouring the area for another target. One of the guys in the storefront is unloading; his attention temporarily diverted. I take a deep breath, steady my aim, and pull the trigger.

The shot goes wide, but it's enough to make him duck into cover. I curse under my breath and shift my grip. “Come on, Dev,” I mutter to myself, “You’ve got to do better than that.”

There is BANG and a wet thudding sound as the enemy spotter finds his mark. I look around frantically and find Milo on the ground, a bullet wound in his chest, caught in the action of reloading.

“Milo!” I yell, automatically reaching out to him even though I'm too far away to help. The sight of him lying on the ground, blood oozing through his shirt, triggers a response in me. Panic surges, yet there's also a weird clarity that drowns out the pandemonium.

He isn't laughing now. He's just lying there, clutching his chest, his grin gone, replaced with a grimace of misery. For a brief moment, he resembles a lost child, eyes wide, looking for something—someone—to save him.

Reza fires two rounds, forcing the people in the storefront to crouch, then dashes toward Milo, ducking behind cover just in time to avoid a new round of gunfire.

“Stay with us, Milo!” she barks. Her hands move quickly, pressing down on the opening, attempting to stop the blood. But I can tell from here that it is severe—too bad for quick fixes.

I should be doing something—anything—but I'm frozen, trapped in a web of fear and self-loathing. What the hell am I doing here? I'm not a soldier, and I'm hardly a fighter. I'm just an idiot who was dragged into this mess, and now I'm watching someone bleed out because I'm too afraid to move.

Then something snapped. I'm not sure if it's Reza's frantic movements or Milo's gasping breaths, but I'm up and moving before I can reason myself out of it. I duck low, zigzagging between the collapsing pillars, each step a risk with death. My hands are still shaking, but I tighten my grip on the pistol, pushing myself to focus on one thing: survival.

I skid to a halt behind the nearest cover, close enough to Milo and Reza to hear their heavy breathing through the gunfire. I glance at Reza, who is desperately trying to keep Milo awake. Her expression is a mask of controlled fear, the kind that comes when you know you're fighting a losing battle but can't give up hope.

“He’s hit bad,” she grinds out, her eyes flicking to me for a split second. “We need to get him out of here, but I can’t move him on my own.”

I nod. “I’ll cover you,” I manage to say.

“Good. We move him to the car the moment Rina and Kana take the spotter out; she should be on the rooftop by now." Her voice is all business, but there's a tremor—a slight crack in her normally steely exterior.

Her words prove prophetic, as a gunshot hits the spotter, removing him from the fight. While another hits the shoulder of a woman in the storefront.

Reza screams, “Dev now.”

Instantly, I am popping up and firing into the store, not aiming at anything, just shooting continuously, one round after another. Leaving Rina and Kana to aim and shoot at the couple of people that still remain in the store front.

My pistol is almost out of ammo when I hear Reza curse from behind me. A cold hand grips my spine as I realize Milo must be dead.

Reza's curse rings in my ears, but I can't allow myself to worry about Milo just now. My hand tightens around the pistol as I fire my final shot, and the weapon's slide locks back with a metallic click. I'm out.

I crouch behind the pillar again, my head racing and my breathing coming in quick, harsh bursts. I look over at Reza. She's still crouched over Milo, her hands drenched with blood. She isn't looking at me; she's too busy pressing down on the wound and saying something under her breath. A prayer, perhaps? I can't tell. But I can see the tension in her eyes, and her fingers tremble despite her best efforts to remain cool.

“Reza—” I start, but she cuts me off. “Dev, I bloody know that he is dead. I could feel his heart stop beating through my stars-damned hands.”

There is a yell from Kana: “They are all dead, all that I can see at least. Shot the few cowards that tried to run away.”