Adam (16 page)

Adam couldn’t believe the bastard shot her. He’d shot Laura, but she wasn’t dead. Yet. If he didn’t stop the bleeding, though, she wouldn’t last more than a few minutes.

What to do?
If he attacked the general, she would bleed out. But if Adam stemmed the blood, he left himself vulnerable.

The analytical part of his brain insisted she’d die no matter what he did, but his heart insisted there was only one viable choice.

Dropping to his knees, he ignored the general and the threat he posed to press his hands against the hole in her shoulder, the warm, slippery wetness of her blood frightening against his skin.

Prone beneath him, Laura didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Her eyes, wide with shock, said it all.

He could have sworn he heard her say,
Why? You should have saved yourself.
He knew she said it, and yet her lips never moved.

The cold muzzle of the general’s gun pressed against his forehead. Welcome to the end of the line. While Adam could survive many wounds, a direct hit to his central cortex, and his brain computer interface, would signal lights out.

He and Laura would both die here. Unless he removed his hands and hastened her death. The logical part of him insisted he listen to reason.
I can still live.

He couldn’t do it.

The ruthless killing machine couldn’t steal what precious moments of life she had left.
I love her too much to let her go.
She saw the choice he made in his eyes, heard it as well, or so it seemed, because she replied in his mind,
I love you too.

And then his crazy human doctor pushed away from him, with more strength than her fragile frame should have held. She grabbed the general around his ankles, her sudden movement throwing him off balance.

The gun went off, but the general’s aim had shifted from Adam’s forehead with the motion, and the bullet lodged into the vest Adam wore. Before the bastard could fire again, Adam threw himself at the man, grasping the wrist of the hand wielding the pistol while his free hand palmed a knife and slid it with ease into the heart—if the general even had one—of the man who’d caused so much pain to cyborgs. The man who’d just taken away the one thing Adam cherished in life.

The wound he delivered was a killing blow, one Adam didn’t need to watch, not when Laura probably breathed her last. Without his hands stemming the blood, she’d bleed out. Or already had.

He made a noise, half rage, half disbelief when he grabbed at her and realized the wound no longer pumped wetly.

Too late. It was too late. She was gone. Dead. Lost to him. And now he was lost. Alone. He hugged her to him, trying to grab what warmth he could from the dying woman trying to speak her last words.

“Um, Adam, I feel kind of funny.”

Already the cold fingers of death came for her. Cradling her in his arms, he hugged her tight. “It’s the loss of blood, Doc. I’m so sorry this happened. I never wanted you to get hurt. If anyone should have died, it should have been me. Not you. Never you.”

“Are you sure I’m dying?” Her tone emerged uncertain. “Because I don’t feel like I’m dying. As a matter of fact, I’m not in any pain at all. Which is weird. I mean the general was smacking me around, and he shot me, and while I do feel a weird tingling going on in my shoulder, I don’t feel like I’m breathing my last.”

She was also talking an awful lot for someone who’d pumped out so much blood. Adam angled her away from him to take a closer peek at her. No pallor marked her skin. On the contrary, her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. Odd.

He leaned her farther back to glance at her wound then blinked, not because he needed to in order to maintain his human guise but because he needed to refresh his visual receptors.

“This can’t be. It makes no sense.” He brushed his fingers across the hole in her shirt, across pale flesh knitted together with only a red mark to show she’d gotten shot. He rubbed at the spot, a spot bereft of blood, almost as if her skin had absorbed it. But only cyborgs absorbed through their skin.

A niggling suspicion made him ask, “Laura, did the general do anything to you? Inject you with something, perhaps?”

“No. Why?” She peeked down at herself but, being unable to see, reached to feel for herself. Then scrambled to her feet with way too much energy for a dying woman. “What’s happening? He shot me. I know he did.”

“Oh, he did all right.” The most terrifying moment of his life. “But the wound is practically gone now. As is the blood on your skin.”

Her lips rounded into a shocked O. Her eyes widened as she mused aloud. “It can’t be. I mean, I just got a dab of it, and not even in a cut. But what other explanation is there?”

“You’re talking in riddles.” And for once, he couldn’t decipher it.

“That live sample I had. I touched a tiny portion of it with my bare finger.”

He took the next logical leap. “The live sample was absorbed by your body and the nanotechnology began replicating.” He frowned. “Plausible yet also impossible. You don’t have a brain computer interface to govern them, do you?”

“If you mean has anybody been chopping into my brain and inserting microchips, then the answer is no.”

“That you know of.”

She glared at him. “I’d know. Up until a few days ago, I was one hundred percent human.”

“Was. You’re something else now, Doc. But we’ll have to figure out more on that later. We’ve still got a rescue mission to finish.”

The distant sound of gunfire reached them.

“Let’s go find our friends and blow this joint.”

And he meant blow.

Close. So close.

Avion could sense her presence, almost like a pulse vibrating through his body on a mental wave.
I am so damned closed,
but he couldn’t move, pinned in place by more guards than he’d yet encountered in this place. He’d only narrowly avoided having his head blown off when his fingers found the edge of the wall and he waved a hand past it.

To those who thought him crazy for attempting to rescue another when he couldn’t see and had no nanotech to protect himself, yes, he was nuts. And dying. Huddling and evading danger wouldn’t extend his life by much, but he could perform one more meaningful act. More meaningful than just blowing away a few soldiers on his way here.

He still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here, alive. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t encountered any resistance on his way. But while he couldn’t see the enemy coming, he could hear them. As soon as he suspected a threatening presence, he dropped to the ground, splayed much like a corpse. Only to rise and smite those who walked past him.

Lax idiots.

An internal instinct guided his direction. He trusted it even if it made no logical sense. Too many things no longer made any sense. Whatever force steered his steps had led him to where he now hid.

The corner he shielded behind wasn’t ideal. He kept having to split his attention, which, if his nanos functioned, wouldn’t have taxed even a small portion of his brain but now took his entire focus. He could only pay attention to one direction at once. How inefficient. He tried to make sure he kept his ears attuned to anyone possibly sneaking up behind him, but given his prize resided within reach, he kept most of his attention on what lay just around the corner.

Judging by the distinct voices, he counted eight soldiers, armed and very aware of his presence. Every time his nose so much as poked out, they began shooting. Luckily, none of the missiles ricocheted, else he might not be contemplating his next move.

How to get into that room? Old him, cyborg him, would have stepped into the open, aimed both weapons, and grinned while he took a few hits as he shot the enemy down.

Broken Avion had to work strategically on less brain power.

It sucked, but he never complained aloud. Once a cyborg, always a cyborg, and cyborgs didn’t whine. They got the job done.

Hoping they might have lowered their guard, he eased his face around the corner, his hand tucked just behind the bend, ready to come into play.

Breath held, ears straining, he felt a hot puff of air in his face as he almost came face to face with a creeping soldier.

“Argh!” Ancient cyborg cry. Okay, maybe more a gurgle of shock. Either way, the frantic and sharp adrenaline flooding his body had him moving as fast as his reflexes, his human reflexes, would allow.

Even though Avion was greatly damaged, his skills gave him the extra burst of speed he needed to fire first.

With a grunted exhalation of breath, a body slumped to the floor, and Avion withdrew as bullets sprayed the area. Once the wild melee died down, he heard it. The thump of feet—from behind!

Shit, reinforcements.

Avion spun and aimed, his finger easing off the trigger at the last moment at Seth’s announced, “It’s us, dude. Don’t shoot. The cavalry has arrived. Giddy-yup.” The sound of a hand slapping a body part was all too easy for Avion to picture.

“Laura’s right. We really don’t take anything seriously,” Adam remarked. “And just so you know, the cavalry yells charge. Not giddy-up.”

“Maybe you clowns don’t take this seriously, but I do. We came here to rescue Avion,” Anastasia said. “And now that we’ve found him, we must hurry. While the upper floors are more or less clear, I heard through one of the soldier walkies that more troops are on their way, along with an airstrike team. We need to exit this establishment as soon as possible, or we will get buried in the rubble.”

Leave? Not quite yet. “We can’t leave. I need to get her first.”

“You found the woman you were talking to? She’s here?” Seth asked. “But where? All my sensors indicate this is a dead end. Beyond this corner is an empty room with some heat signatures indicating soldiers. Which, on second thought, makes no sense. Why guard an empty room?”

“Are you sure she is nearby?” Anastasia asked. “I also detect nothing, and the schematics of this place show no excavations beyond that space.”

“She’s here.” Avion couldn’t explain how he knew for certain. He just
felt
it.

“Good enough for me.” As Seth answered, the distinctive click of him checking his munitions magazine helped Avion tune in to his location. “If my man Avion says she’s here, then I believe him. We should check the room, see if there’s any hidden passages. Just give me a minute to clear the joint.”

“A minute? You take too long,” Anastasia retorted.

“Funny, you like it when I do that in the bedroom.”

“And as usual, it comes back to sex,” Anastasia replied with a forbearing sigh.

“It’s what keeps my old parts lubricated,” was Seth’s snickered reply.

“I can’t believe I married you.”

“It’s true love.”

“Or defective programming.”

“Entertaining as this is, can we get back to the mission?” Adam inquired.

“One ass kicking coming up,” Anastasia announced.

Blind or not, Avion had no problem following the unfolding events. Gunfire erupted, and Seth uttered, almost reverently, “Isn’t she perfect? A blend of hot, bitchy, and talented. She drives me nuts, but man, she keeps my circuits buzzing.” Such a cute declaration ruined by Seth’s yodeled, “I’m coming to protect you, wifey poo.”

“Don’t make me blow your head off,” she yelled back, making herself heard over the gunplay.

“They’re both nuts,” Adam said, his tone bordering on wonderment.

“No kidding. Oh poor, Avion. You can’t see what they’re up to. It’s wild. They’re doing some weird zigzag thing,” Laura explained to Avion, her hand on him guiding him past the corner into the last hall.

He could have told her not to bother. Even without sight, he knew how to get around. Trailing his fingertips along walls and listening, feeling the air currents, using all his other senses. Especially one he’d not relied on before—a sixth one. The human one that not so long ago had been suppressed by his BCI.

However, being able to get around, and in general knowing what surrounded him, wasn’t as much fun as hearing Laura recount in absolute awe the way Seth and Anastasia moved.

“Holy Hollywood moves. They’re more or less bouncing off the walls and doing somersaults. That’s insane. Especially considering they’re firing at the same time.”

Firing and hitting. It wasn’t long before the last gunshot echo faded.

“Nice job,” Adam praised from a spot ahead of him.

Despite Laura’s guiding touch, Avion leaned into the hallway wall so that he could place his hand along it. His fingers ran across the metallic surface. Smooth. Cold. A ridge.

His fingers bumped over the raised edge of a doorway as he entered a room. A seemingly empty room, or so Adam announced.

“There’s nothing here. Just a table and some chairs.”

“Don’t forget the bodies,” Seth added.

“She’s close,” Avion whispered, the tug in him practically pulsing.

“Or not. Unless she’s invisible, I hate to break it to you, Avion, she’s not here.”

“She’s here.” No question. What weren’t they
seeing
?

All his focus attuned to his fingers, Avion trailed them along the seamless walls. He went all around the square space until he ended up where he started at the other edge of the door. In between where he began and finished, he encountered nothing. No other doors. No seams. Nothing. Where was she?

She’s here. I know she is. It’s almost as if I’m right on top of her.

Despite his blindness, Avion looked down. “She’s under us,” he announced.

They didn’t question his certainty.

“Remove the rubber mats,” Anastasia ordered. “Let’s see if the military isn’t hiding something under them.”

The rustle and slap of rubberized sheets getting peeled off the floor took the place of conversation. It didn’t take long before Seth muttered, “I’ll be damned, we found a hatch. And a heavy-duty one, too.”

“It’s made of lead and some other weird alloy,” Anastasia added. “No wonder we couldn’t sense it. I wonder what’s hiding under there.”

She is.

“That’s weird. It’s got no electronic lock. Just a giant padlock holding closed a hand wheel on the hatch.”

Avion could barely restrain his impatience as they snapped the lock then cranked the mechanical wheel. What would they find?

With a creak of metal and air pressure being released, the portal must have popped open because suddenly Avion could
feel
her.

Hello?
He sent a mental query, but she didn’t reply. Then again, she probably heard the door to her prison open and prepared to meet them.

Oh shit. I’m going to meet her.
He doubted she’d be impressed with his broken exterior. It didn’t stop his excitement.

Approaching the edge of the opening, Avion found himself halted as Seth put an arm out. “Hold on, dude. You don’t want to take a header down that pit. It looks deep, and who knows what’s at the bottom?”

“She’s in there.”

“Let us just peek at the situation first before you jump in the hole. Anyone got a flashlight?”

“A girl never leaves home without one,” Anastasia replied. A rustle of canvas and a click.

“What’s down there?” Adam asked.

“It’s like some kind of cylinder-shaped shaft. A deep one.”

“For what?” Laura asked. “I mean, it looks empty so far. Nothing in there at all.”

“You missed the far corner,” Seth said.

“Hold on to your panties, old man, I’m getting to it. Holy shit, there’s someone down there.”

Of course there was. Avion had told them.

“How do we reach her?”

“There’s some kind of mechanized ladder, but with the power out, we’ll need something else. Anastasia, you hiding a rope by any chance in that knapsack of yours?” Adam asked.

“A lady is always prepared,” she announced. “But all I’ve got is modified, control-top panty hose, and it’s not long enough to reach.”

“Women and their purses,” Seth teased. “I’m surprised she hasn’t pulled out a tank. I am so disappointed, but at least I packed for the occasion. Multi-purpose rope, my friends.”

A rustle of another backpack getting rifled and then the hum of cable being spooled out. Why was it taking so long? All these delays, even if miniscule, just increased Avion’s impatience. Did no one understand his need to finally meet the owner of the voice who’d spoken to him?

“Grab hold. We’ll pull you out,” Adam shouted down the shaft, his words getting swallowed by the dull acoustics in this place.

“She isn’t grabbing the rope,” observed Seth.

“Maybe she’s deaf,” replied Anastasia. “I mean, it’s possible. Just look at Avion.”

“Could be she’s scared,” said Laura. “Or doesn’t speak English.”

Or she needed a reason to leave. Without thinking twice, Avion leaned forward until his fingers gripped the cable. He swung himself over the edge and tried not to wince as the metal bit into his palms.

It sucked not having nanos to send a message to toughen the flesh on his fingers and palms. All he possessed was fragile, prone-to-rope-burn human skin. How he’d kill for a pair of gloves, even if his cyborg buddies would mock him for going human soft.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Seth said in a perfectly scolding parental tone.

Wasn’t it obvious? “To get her.”

“Let one of us do it. Come back here.”

Where it was safe because he was useless. The broken one. The most expendable one.

It made him the better choice to go. Before anyone could stop him, Avion rappelled down into the prison they kept her in. And that was what it was. A prison to keep her hidden. Contained.

No longer.

“Twenty feet. Ten.” Seth counted out the depth left as Avion plunged downward, the temperature cooling and giving him goosebumps. “Five. You can let go now.”

With a heavy clomp from his borrowed combat boots, Avion landed on the floor and wobbled. Some hero. But at least he’d kept his promise. He’d found her.

Even without seeing her, he could feel her, sense the energy of her presence, and almost see it like a shining light in the darkness. He smiled in her direction, oddly excited and yet subdued now that he was in her presence.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, her voice the softest of sounds. Into his mind ghosted,
but I am glad to see you.

“I came to save you. Like I promised.”
Trust me.

“Why?” Genuine curiosity in her query.

“Because it’s what I do. It’s what we all do,” he added, gesturing above him to his friends, who surely crowded around the hatch. “We’ve made it our life mission to save all of our kind. To save other cyborgs in trouble like you.”