Five Moons of Pluto (6 page)

Everyone joins in on the laughter except Porter who is reading a book with his thin

glasses which match his scrawny but surprisingly strong physique. Marko gives Porter a side-hug with his huge arms, and it looks like a bear hugging a small child.

“Saddle up, ladies,” someone says over an intercom. “E.T.A in five.”

Holleran gently wipes his katana with his long slender fingers and like a master swordsman he quickly sheaths his blade. His thin face grins at Janovsky who twirls two guns in each hand and then holsters them. Janovsky’s creepy, psychotic smile is more than enough for Holleran to back away. Sonya ties her dark hair into a long ponytail as the Rhino finally comes to a stop.

“All right, boys and girls,” Boston commands. “Gather ‘round.” A small table emerges from the floor and a map flickers on. “Intel reports of a small vulture camp on the twentieth floor of this building.” Boston points to the building on the screen. “So far they have raided numerous ration trucks form Zone Epsilon.”

“Nothing like secret favors for Zone civilians,” Javonsky says. “If I remember correctly,
they
told us to pack up and get the fuck out.”

Sonya rolls her eyes, disgusted at
Janovsky. “They’re humans. Doesn’t that matter?”

His smile darkens as he returns her gaze. “I’m sure they said the same thing when they wasted your father.”

In an instant, Sonya tackles him to the ground and punches him repeatedly. Marko grabs Sonya off of Janovsky. Backing away, Janovsky grins as he licks a drop of blood from his lips.

“Get it together, you two!” Boston yells.

Porter extends his hand to Janovsky, who smacks it away and gets up on his own. Sonya takes a deep breath and tries to refocus. Everyone is quiet as they wait for their leader to speak, the one with the most experience and knowledge. They gather around the table again.

“Here’s the plan,” Boston begins.

Two Vultures stand guard in front of a building. Most Vultures look the same, with red and black clothing torn and dirty. Their faces look mean, twisted, and disturbed. But all wear black feathers. Not in the same places, necessarily, but they can be seen by all. It’s a sign of death.

Holleran quickly dispatches the first two guards with his katana. He rushes down the hallway through a door downstairs where he takes down another three guards. He opens a door to a room with servers and generators, and he places a small gizmo on one of the servers. It beeps, then a green light comes on. He touches his ear.

“
Holleran. Complete,” he says, and then jets off.

The chairs and tables of the cafeteria have been thrown aside in a corner or used as extra protection being nailed to the doors and windows. Graffiti, food stains, and dried blood give the room a more chaotic feel. A gang of Vultures participate in their normal ritual after a successful raid, eating, drinking, and partying hard.

The lights go out. Gunshots, screams, and breaking glass echo throughout the room until only hard rock music plays from a nearby Stereo. Janovsky shuts it up with two bullets.

“Sound off,” yells Boston.

One at a time they each repeat their names.

Sonya squints as she peers out the broken window. Two yellow lights float towards them

like a ghost. Boston catches Sonya staring. He turns his head to see that behind the two yellow lights is a Raven approaching them at full speed.

“Take cover!” Boston screams.

The Titan crashes in through the window, sliding along the floor and bursting through the cafeteria walls into a large room full of cubicle offices. Hundreds of Vultures emerge from the stairwells and office rooms and a fire fight soon begins. Bullets fly in every direction, trying their best to hit their intended target.

The cargo door from the Titan opens and out steps a man who many don’t fear but should. Dutch has a lean and muscular body, as if he only does cardio workouts. His body is covered with so many tattoos that he looks like a living painting. His face and hair is painted red and black and when he smiles he looks like a devil. In front of him crawls the Raven pilot. Dutch shoots him in the head without a second thought. He stands out in the open as the bullets fly around the room.

“It’s Dutch,” Boston whispers.

Sonya reloads and watches the fear in Boston’s eyes, a sight she has never seen before. If he’s afraid, it’s for a very good reason.

“Gas ‘em up, boys,” Dutch orders.

Small canisters bounce into the cafeteria and explode with white smoke.

“We gotta get outta here, Boston. Whats—”

Sonya tries to squeeze the trigger, something she has done thousands of times but is now the hardest thing to do. The sounds around her are muffled like something has plugged her ears. She drops her gun. Her hands begin to shake.

Dutch rushes through the cloud of smoke and shoots Porter in the chest. His moves are fluid and smooth as he slices Marko’s throat while holding the blade in his mouth. Holleran jumps in but Dutch takes him apart by breaking his leg, bone by bone. Sonya reaches for her sidearm and aims at Dutch.
The sidearm is much lighter in her hand compared to the rifle but that too will soon change. She inhales a huge gulp of air which improves her aim and concentration just a bit. She slowly pulls the trigger with the last ounce of strength in her index finger until the butt end of a rifle connects to the back of her head, sending her crashing down to the floor and putting her to sleep.

****

A small light bulb dangles from a wire, swinging back and forth in the empty darkness. Sonya’s eyes follow the rhythmic pattern of the bulb as she thinks about her friends...her family. It’s been days since she heard the screams of her brothers, the sound of fists pounding into bones, and the sound of a machine being powered on. The sadistic laughter.

They made sure that escape would be impossible. Two thick chains are wrapped around a concrete pillar. At the end of the chains are wrist locks causing Sonya to constantly wiggle her wrists around for a comfortable spot. The chains give her just enough slack where she can reach the metal bucket in the corner to do her business.

The iron latch unlocks and a flood of light enters the room. Various types of pipes run along the walls and ceilings of the room, some rusted, leaking red water. A huge heating

machine for the building makes its usual humming noise. Next to the machine sits an iron table and many instruments used on Sonya.

Sonya covers her eyes as tears run down her face. Not tears of sorrow or from the pain she endured but from the fact that this
thing
is going to receive a quick and painless death when he deserves eternal torment and suffering. Her torture device is a six-inch rusty nail that somehow got loose from supporting an air vent cover from the ceiling. The rusty nail is too big to pick the lock but just right for tearing an artery. Where could she cause the most pain, the same pain he caused her time and time again? Unfortunately it would have to be swift and quiet; there’s no telling who might be outside. He’s lucky.

Sonya is bruised and covered with dry blood. Her back is marred with scars from the flogging. Her outfit is only a skimpy bra and panties.

Her overweight abuser walks up to her, grabs her, and begins licking and sucking her face.
Now is not the time
, she thinks. He could easily overpower her in this position. His filthy hands grope her butt and breasts. He turns around and walks to the torture table and Sonya makes her move once he’s out of reach. She rips the nail out of her hair and places it between her middle and ring fingers, making a tight fist. Then she dashes up to him and jams the nail repeatedly into his throat. Blood spews out onto her face and body. She watches as he tries to pronounce words like
help
,
bitch
, and
die
.

She grabs his sidearm and keys. Her hands shake at the thought of freedom, making it difficult to place the key inside the lock. She takes three long breaths, places the key in the lock, and twists. The first shackle drops to the floor and makes a small sound. Her eyes land on the door.
Did anyone hear that?
She moves onto the next shackle, keeping her eyes on the door. This time she’s careful not to drop it. She rubs her wrists frantically, getting the blood to return. She spots her cargo pants and t-shirt that they tore off of her by the metal table. Lucky they left it here; they probably thought she wasn’t escaping anyway.

She looks around the room for an escape route but soon realizes why they put her down here in the first place. There’s only one way in, one way out. She makes her way to
the metal door and peeks through the opening. Satisfied, she slowly opens it and walks up the stairs.

Another door stands in her way. She puts her ear near the cold metal. Nothing. She grasps the doorknob and twists. The door unlocks and Sonya opens it slightly to get a clear view. She sees a hallway with school lockers and a classroom door. Then she tries to adjust her body to get a better view into the hallway. Further down she sees a Vulture guard sleeping in a chair. Sonya opens the door and peeks into the first classroom. It’s empty.

She moves on until she hears a soft laughter of madness coming from one of the classrooms behind her. She checks a few rooms before finding the right one. She sees Janovsky beaten and bloody, with his left leg chopped off from the knee. The machine noise and screams had come from him, she sees. He hangs in mid-air supported by two chains which are wrapped around his hands.

When Sonya enters the room, he looks down on her and smiles widely enough to expose his bloodstained teeth. She looks up at him for just a moment, then she grabs a desk and positions it in front of him.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “Leave before they find you.”

“I’m not
gonna leave one of my brothers behind,” Sonya says as she climbs to stand on

top of the desk. She reaches up and works the key into the first lock. It unlatches easily. Then she wraps her legs around
Janovsky’s waist, so she can reach higher up. Her arms squeeze tightly around his bare chest as they swing from side to side. She reaches for the last lock and fits the key in.

“All right, here we go,” she says.

She twists the key and just like the first, it unlocks. They both fall to the ground. She’s sure someone had to have heard them this time. She quickly gets to her feet and grabs Janovsky.

“Come on. No time to sleep now, soldier. We got to find the others.”

With the little strength she has left, she pulls Janovsky up and props him next to her with his arm over her shoulder.

Janovsky
holds his head down, not sure how he should tell or how she would react. “Sit me on the chair over there, Sonya,” he says.

She’s not sure why but she follows his instructions. He sits in the chair and takes in the moment of how good it feels. He looks at Sonya and breaks the news.

“They’re all dead. I overheard them talking...they were saving you for last.”

It takes all of her strength not to burst into tears. Her brothers, the men she spent so much of her time with laughing, training, and killing, are now gone. This was not the way she pictured it. Sure, if you're a part of a Sentinel squad, death is a lot closer than you think. But dying in the hands of a Vulture is considered a curse; your soul never rests and it wanders around the nether realms until your murderer dies. Sonya never believed in this superstition but her brothers did.

“We have to find a way out of here,” she says, looking around the room.

“There is a loose board on the window. You can get out from there.”

“I’m not leaving you, Janovsky. I—”

“We’ll both die if you try to save me.
Gimme your sidearm. I’ll stall them long enough for you to escape.”

Sonya hands him the sidearm. He checks the clip and loads a round into the chamber.

The wooden guard comes off with little effort. Snowflakes enter and dance in the air before melting. She sticks her head out the window. Snow has covered the ground and for once the world looks much like the old one. She is three stories high.

She turns around and sees
Janovsky has found a piece of lumber and uses it as a crutch. She watches as he awkwardly walks to the door.

She takes one end of the chain and secures it onto the pulley, then throws the other end out of the window.

He turns to her as she inspects the strength of the chain. “Sonya.”

She stops.

“Your father was a brave man.” He exits the room before she can say anything. For Sonya, that was enough.

She climbs out of the window and scales down the building. Gunshots ring out. She scales down a few feet more and releases the chain.

Sonya lands on her feet and quickly crouches down behind a bush. A Vulture patrol car pulls up to the side entrance. Vultures exit the car and rush inside the school.

This is her chance thanks to
Janovsky. She rushes to the car and enters. She puts the gear in reverse and smashes the pedal. The car whips around the correct way and speeds off. Sonya looks into the rearview mirror just when an explosion erupts from one of the classrooms.