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Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

OCTOBER 23RD, 11:04 P.M.

--TOMMY--

ACT 3

WARNING: INCOMING FIRE

Please save my daughter! Please!

WARNING: INCOMING FIRE

Tommy?

WARNING: SUSTAINING DAMAGE

NO! TOMMY WHAT DID YOU DO?!

TOMMY?!

It was never ending. Haunting. He couldn’t stop seeing it. Over and over. He sat on the asphalt, covered in dust and ash, leaning against a concrete barrier that was crumbling rapidly from incoming bullets. Accurate shots struck the robot on the back of the head that stuck over the barrier, deflecting off his metal exterior, his head jerking forward from the impact. He remained still. All he could see was the face of the hysterical mother holding onto her daughter’s corpse.

WARNING: SUSTAINING DAMAGE

“Tommy?!”

A firm hand grabbed his ankle and dragged him forward a few inches, pulling his head down below the barrier and into safety, and back into reality. The all too familiar amalgamation of gunfire echoing in the sky became full volume. He looked around in confusion, finally identifying the culprit. Leo crouched beside him, his face tense and focused, covered in ash and cut marks. His axe glowed in his hand, the blade dripping with blood. He was wearing his full gear; a quick trip to their motel room before they left the NLV allowed them to recover their equipment, which was being put to good use now.

“Get your shit together!”

Tommy turned over, peeking beyond the barrier. A fierce battle as far as he could see. The destroyed vehicles of those who were less fortunate in their escape littered the street. Shops and offices were smashed in; their fires acting as the light source to the chaos, overpowering the delicate glow of the moon.

“We need to go right!” Leo yelled at him. Tommy was too captivated to answer. Not by the fighting: that was his specialty after all. But by something he couldn’t shake. An unfamiliar phenomenon that he couldn’t explain. A feeling more human than he’s ever experienced.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“What? Nothing,” he replied.

“Right!” Leo repeated, pointing towards a ravaged store on the other side of the street. A quaint laundromat. Or at least it used to be. “St. Grad is on the other side of that building. I’m not waiting around for you.”

Leo took off, his body forming a golden aura around him as he braced his arm by his side, like a shield. He ran across the street; bullets harmlessly impacting the barrier.

St. Grad. Right. Tommy regained his sense of direction. They were fleeing to St. Grad, only a few hours from the NLV. The only safe place left for them in the country, and their best hope in gathering a resistance to fight back against Rayshe and his fanatics. They ran with two Pieces in their possession, but it still didn’t feel like a victory. The whole reason they found themselves in this situation was because of Tommy. He killed Rayshe’s daughter. He started this. This civil war kicked off because of the announcement from the nation’s commander and chief, but because of what Tommy did. It all led back to him. To pile it on, Rayshe just missed them at the NLV, putting him just a few steps behind. They couldn’t afford to be out in the open for too long. If Rayshe catches them vulnerable…

He’s not to blame here, he knows that. America had been dancing on the edge of anarchy for some time now. Starting all the way back after Regis decimated the world. All this would have happened anyways when Boreas arrived and Rayshe took to them with violence. The remaining people with even a shred of morality in this country wouldn’t have let it happen without a fight.

He wasn’t in the wrong for stopping a catastrophic event, he knows that. One hundred times out of one hundred he does it again. It’s a difficult choice but it is the best one. One life for thousands. It had to be done. Not many would’ve had the courage to do it, but he did. Even if he had known it was Rayshe’s daughter. Even if he knew this would be the aftermath. Like he said to himself before, this was unavoidable. Either it happened just like this, or tomorrow, or next week. The only difference was it’s happening with them in the advantage. It starts with them beating Rayshe at his own game. They have two Pieces with one more left until victory. In other scenarios, Rayshe starts this civil war regardless, except with The Key completed, and not a chance anyone could stop him. He told himself all of this. He knew he was right. So, what was the problem? Something was still gnawing at him, no matter how much he justified the situation. He couldn’t describe it.

He couldn’t get that little girl out of his head. He couldn’t stop hearing the screaming of her mother. Tommy was no stranger to this. He had killed many before, and surely will kill many more. It never scared him like this. Never. He never had to deal death to a child before. An innocent girl, who was unfortunately afflicted by a disease she couldn’t control. He shuttered at that thought. He couldn’t think of her as a little girl. He needed to disassociate from it. It was just like all the rest. He’s killed many people before. This was the same.

Except it wasn’t. He couldn’t shake it. Why did he feel this way? Was this something that humans felt? Maybe he doesn’t want to be so much of a man anymore.

A booming, guttural roar vibrated the ground. Tommy peeked over the barrier again, where he saw what looked like a giant, clad in dark silver metal, smashing their enemies.

“Frank?” Tommy muttered. He finally regained his full attention to the current situation. They needed to get to St. Grad before Rayshe caught up to him. He was surely pursuing them, and they were running out of time.

With his adversaries occupied with the ravaging beast, he took off for the laundromat. Leo was already gone out the back door, not waiting for Tommy to catch up.

Right as he reached the entrance, an explosion rocked the roof, causing the front façade to cave in. Tommy caught a chunk of rubble above his head, discarding it and quickly running further into the laundromat to avoid the rest.

Behind him, a battle cry, followed by pounding footsteps.

IMMINENT THREAT

His optics flashed red with an arrow advising him to a combatant approaching for a surprise attack. Tommy spun around, grabbing the assailant by the collar of his shirt and launching them into the stacks of washing machines. He crashed into the metal boxes, falling onto the floor with his back propped against them. Tommy quickly shifted his right hand into a firearm and stepped up to his attacker, planting his foot on his shoulder and taking aim.

He stared down the sights, just as he did thousands of times before. He readied to pull the trigger, just as he did thousands of times before. The little girl flashed in his head. The desperate pleas of the mother replayed. He froze.

The man, now given a window of opportunity, reached into his jacket and retrieved a hefty revolver. It had a short, but thick barrel with a wide cylinder, loaded with buckshot. He blasted Tommy, striking him below the chin, toppling him backwards into a parallel row of washing machines.

Tommy cursed to himself; his pride more hurt than anything. The man’s moment of success was cut short as Tommy shot him down with two precise shots from his position on the floor.

Another roar shook the building. Powerful slams vibrated the ground. Frank continued his rampage. The shockwaves of his destruction served as a reminder to Tommy to recoup his focus and catch up with the team. The robot scraped the pellets off his chin before rising to his feet, exiting the building through the back door.

Before him he saw the coastline, burning and bleeding. Standing stout despite the battle was a grand fortress, sheltered with massive concrete walls with its tallest buildings on the inside just barely rising above it. Its entrance was restricted by a tall, metal gate, riddled with dents but still strong. St. Grad, once a critical monument to the war effort for the U.S.S., now a bastion for the rebellion. All that remained in the way between Tommy and the safe haven was the width of the main highway. But in the battle gripping the city, it has become a hotspot for the combat.

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Tommy quickly took cover, climbing over the barricade onto the road and sliding behind an abandoned vehicle. He peered through where the windows once were, assessing the battlefield before planning his next move. It was then he noticed streaks of pink essence rocketing across the lanes, lighting up the night. Laurel flew above him, dodging income fire as she cast back. Tommy expended shots down range, revealing his position but providing cover for the sorceress. Laurel noticed him, quickly gliding down, slamming into the car in a rough landing.

“I need your help,” she panted.

“We just need to get across the street,” he mentioned. “We’ll move one at a time, I’ll shoot, you move cover-“

“Tommy there’s people trapped up there!” she interrupted him. He paused, examining the war zone. “In the grey sedan up there. There’s two people stuck inside.”

“Shit. Okay, how do you want to do this?” Tommy asked.

“One of us grabs them while the other covers. Can you do that?”

“You take them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You’ll be able to shield them better than me.”

“Okay,” Laurel said, wiping dirt from her chin. “Okay, I’m going to go up. Ready?”

Tommy’s right arm disassembled, rearranging, forming a heavy barrel and receiver, with a belt of ammunition feeding into the weapon from inside his ribcage.

“Wait until I get beyond the car,” he commanded, standing up and exiting his cover. He placed the machine gun over his left arm, using it as support as he advanced, sending a hail of rounds at his attackers. Shells flew from the weapon, creating a trail of hot metal as he approached undeterred, drawing fire from all combatants that could see him. Small arms fire struck his body, but none were able to maintain sight on him for long enough to do damage.

He reached the grey sedan with the stranded civilians. He stood close by but didn’t use it as cover so that gunshots weren’t attracted to it. He saw the stranded civilians inside through the exterior, a young man and a pregnant woman.

Tommy rushed up, putting himself beyond the car. He peeked behind him, seeing Laurel escort them out of the vehicle, shrouding them with magic. He continued to provide cover for them, firing an endless stream of bullets.

“Laurel!” he yelled. She didn’t answer. “Laurel!” he tried again. He was unsure if she could hear him, but he continued anyway. “When you make it to the other side, come back-“

Before he could finish, a violent beam of energy struck the ground from above him, sweeping across the highway horizontally, with a wall of fire erupting in its wake. It completely eviscerated the shooters in its path, and now the façade of flames served as visual cover. Boone sped past above him, flying above the battlefield.

The fighting halted, for a moment. The booms of gunshots and explosions faded, replaced with the crackling firewall. Tommy climbed over the medians in route to the fortress, still on high alert.

The grand walls grew taller as he grew closer. The worn asphalt turned pristine as he reached the much less traveled driveway to the main gate. A crowd of civilians were gathered at the entrance, clamoring and crying to be let in. The metal doors creaked and whirred into motion, opening to allow the team and refugees in, but something was still not letting them in.

Tommy approached from the rear, meeting back up with Laurel and the two civilians. The young woman was in hysterics, crying and latching onto the sorceress, thanking her repeatedly for saving them. Laurel held her in a comforting embrace, hiding her own pain and exhaustion as best she could as she kept her guard up. The robot stood in front of them, his weapon drawn.

“Thanks Tommy,” she said weakly.

“Have any idea where the others are?”

“They’ll find their way here eventually,” Laurel huffed.

“You should get your hand checked out,” he commented, referring to her four-fingered hand.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get everyone inside first.”

The gates were open, yet the line wasn’t moving. Tommy slowly rounded the crowd, keeping his sights behind them. No one dared to give him any resistance as he skipped them in line, creeping his way to the front. An officer and a few soldiers met him halfway.

“What’s the matter? Why aren’t we letting them in?” he asked.

“We need to run a check and process them before they can gain entry,” the officer replied, visibly stressed. He established a defensive formation with his soldiers, holding up the rear of the swarm.

“We can check them inside,” Tommy said. “It’s too dangerous to keep them out here.”

“We can’t risk letting a potential threat inside.”

“Hold them at the front, but inside the walls. We’ll keep it contained until everyone’s cleared.”

“Who are you? You with the QRF?” the military man inquired.

“No sir, we work independently.”

“Who’s we? There’s more?”

“Four others. You’ll find all of them very capable.”

“I understand. Let’s get them in. Open checkpoint!” he yelled, instructing his men to lead them into the base.

“Bring them inside! Inside the walls and close the gates!” The refugees wasted no time complying, quickly funneling into the fortress. Tommy and the soldiers walked backwards, barrels down range and ready to retaliate if the fighting were to resume.

“I’ll tell you, you’re an answered prayer bringing five enhanced personnel to my door. Are you the captain?” the officer asked as he stared down his scope.

“Of a sort,” Tommy replied. “I wouldn’t call us an answered prayer either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Rayshe Hall is on our tail. Not going to sugarcoat it.”

“Then nothing’s changed,” the officer clarified. “One of the first directives he gave his forces was to seize St. Grad. We’ve went under siege not long after his declaration of war.”

“No movement!” Snipers atop the wall above them signaled to them. They remained alert, backtracking into the base but more relaxed than before. They turned once they crossed the gate’s threshold, overseeing the crowd as they received asylum.

The fortress opened up, revealing blocks of buildings, all made from dark stone with thick wood trim, none higher than a few stories. The streets were stone brick, all the way around, perfect for walking or driving. Deeper into the city, a second, smaller wall fortified the center. Inside, taller, more grand structures peered overhead, containing high quality technology and defense buildings, as well as room and board.

“What did you do to get in Hall’s sights?”

“Information I can’t share. You’ll just have to trust me here.”

“I’m not in a position to ask questions. I know not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” the officer remarked. “Start ID’s! I want everyone checked in at examined ASAP!” he yelled to his troops.

“What’s the situation here? What numbers are we working with?”

“We got the orders down from the commander and chief to start an offensive on our own soil and herd up quote unquote, terrorists. Defectors. We refused. Several battalions refused at that. We’ve managed to secure communications with some Colonels that are disobeying as well. They have the orders to form up here at St. Grad, but making it here is a different story.”

“Are we expecting any?”

“Am I expecting any? No. Will one show up? I fucking hope so.”

Laurel entered St. Grad with the last two refugees, the woman still clinging onto her. Boone swooped in soon after, sliding on the bottom of his shoes until his momentum died.

“What’s the report on the country? You caught word on any of that?”

“Fighting has been focused on major cities, as expected. Small towns in the Midwest have almost been completely abandoned at this point. They either all banded together on the same side, and took off to fight in the cities, or fled to avoid their neighbors killing them.”

“Is there another place like this taking in refugees?”

“Not that I know of. St. Grad stays fully equipped 24/7 for the event of an attack on the mainland. Never supposed the attacks would come from the mainland. Here’s hoping another base can go live closer to the east coast. From what we gather, Chicago got it the worst. Almost in ruins, and it’s only been a couple hours.”

Boone overheard their conversation. His body language went stiff. He began shuffling nervously. Tommy noticed all of it.

“Keep your eyes out! We aren’t at ease until we get a drone in the air!” the officer reminded his men.

“Sir, we need you over here!” a soldier booking the refugees requested for his commander. He nodded and began towards them.

“It’s Lieutenant Reeves by the way,” he said, shaking his hand. “We’ll pick this up later.” Reeves holstered his weapon by its strap over his soldier and walked towards the situation.

“Tommy… And yeah…” he replied quietly, his suspicions of Boone captivating him. He saw him pacing, breathing heavy, plotting. He was going to take off again.

“Boone!” Tommy called to him, walking swiftly over to him. He jumped after he heard his name, turning to face the robot. “What’s going on?” He put up his hand, neglecting to answer. Tommy stood tall over him, putting pressure on him, studying his behavior. His body jerked and twitched. His tattoos exuded an almost black glow. He absorbed a great deal of energy from the blast wave at the NLV, more than what he’s accustomed to. Despite the time it would take to adjust to it, he was more powerful than he’d ever been, and they needed him on the team.

“You’re going to leave again, aren’t you?”

“Tommy, you don’t understand.” Boone snapped.

“I’m pretty well sure I do fucking understand.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand.”

“I understand that we’re in Rayshe’s crosshairs, were in a civil war, and up two Pieces to nothing and we need everyone here. What don’t I understand.”

“I heard what he said. Chicago almost in ruins, I have to go.”

“For fucks sake Boone, think for a second what’s more important here!”

“Fuck you, Tommy! Don’t stand here and try to lecture me about what’s important to me!”

“We can’t afford to handicap ourselves, especially now! We’ve come to far to let it go now.”

“I can’t, Tommy.”

“Boone, just relax and think for a second.”

“I need to check on Miriam. I’ll come back.”

“And what if we get attacked while you’re gone? Huh?”

“You guys can manage.”

“Oh for fuck-“ Tommy put his hands on his head, looking around in frustration.

“I can’t stay here, Tommy.”

“Yes, you fucking can. Don’t give me that.”

“I can’t, Tommy! Jesus, just shut the fuck up! You don’t understand, you can’t, and you never will! You’re a fucking machine, you have no idea what this is like!”

“Is that the route you want to go down? You really want to do this right here?”

“Fuck. You.” Boone snarled, stepping up to Tommy.

“Watch your mouth,” he warned. “This won’t end well for you.”

A heavy silence fell upon them. They stared each other down fiercely, teetering on the edge of combat.

“I’m leaving,” Boone declared. “And you won’t stop me.” He stepped away from Tommy, gearing up to take flight.

“Don’t bother coming back,” Tommy remarked.

Boone launched into the sky like a shooting star, streaking through the night. In a matter of seconds, he was out of sight. The team was down to four.