Purge of Prometheus (19 page)

Run, you idiot
, the Voice screamed.
 
It’s the tracker for an automated turret!

Keryn stood, hypnotized.
 
The automated turrets had motion and heat censors.
 
Even if she ran, there was a very high chance that she’d never make it across the field before she was torn apart by the automatic fire.

You don’t have to get across the field
, the Voice yelled.
 
You only have to find the sewer.
 
Now run!

Breaking free of her daze, Keryn rushed across the open ruins, darting between low walls and piles of rubble.
 
The laser tracker immediately shifted, following her movements, and flames leapt from the barrel of the automatic rifle as it turned mechanically in the turret.
 
Rounds struck the ground around her as she ran, their detonations sounding like muffled cannon blasts in the thick snow.
 
Stone and ice pelted Keryn.
 
As she ran, the turret decimated the small amounts of cover she used to avoid the deadly barrage.
 
Shifting back and forth, Keryn tried her best to avoid both the hail of gunfire and, covering her face, tried to keep the flying debris from tearing through her soft flesh.

There
, the Voice cried excitedly.
 
There’s the sewer!

Keryn peered through the darkness as she ran.
 
Directly ahead, the stone slab the trio had pulled to cover the sewer entrance slowly emerged from the gloom like a beacon of salvation.
 
Feeling rejuvenated, Keryn sprinted the rest of the distance, the turret’s continuing fire still close on her heels.
 
Dropping to her knees, she slid underneath the low overhand, never once in her life assuming she’d be so excited to see a sewer.
 
Reaching out, she found the entrance, the hole a deeper black amidst the darkness.
 
Above her, the rounds slammed into the thick stone slab, vibrating the ground beneath her.
 
Taking a deep breath, she slipped into the sewer’s entrance, her feet dangling as she tried to locate the rungs of the ladder.
 
Finally, her feet struck the first metal rung, and she lowered herself into the consuming darkness.
 
After climbing nearly halfway down the ladder, she heard the gunfire above her subside, both the motion and heat sensors losing her signal.

After climbing for what felt like an eternity, Keryn finally sloshed into the stagnant water in the sewer pipe.
 
Without constant water flow from the surface, the waste had pooled in the pipes.
 
The smell assaulted Keryn’s senses, the air hanging thick with the scent of dust, bile, and human waste.
 
Gagging from the scent, she focused hard on controlling her stomach contractions.
 
If she started vomiting now, it would be a long time until she was able to recover enough to move on, time that she wasn’t sure she had.
 
When she felt under control of her reflexes, Keryn unclipped the flashlight from her belt and turned on the narrow beam.
 
Flashing the beam down both directions, she grew content that nothing waited in ambush within the pipe.
 
The light did, however, dance across objects floating in the water, items she preferred not to analyze too deeply for fear that the urge to vomit would return.
 
Recapturing her mental compass, Keryn turned to the right and set off, sloshing through the knee-deep waste.

She knew before she set off that the edge of city was no more than three thousand feet away from the rubble they had been clearing during the day.
 
On the surface, that would have been an impossible distance.
 
In the sewers, however, she felt more freedom of movement than she had in the past two weeks of occupation.
 
Covering the distance quickly, eager to be free from the city, Keryn’s heart sank when she entered a round chamber, a stagnant pond filling the center of the room.
 
She had assumed that the tunnel would run straight all the way to the edge of the city with a drainage pipe releasing the waste into the wilderness.
 
Looking around, though, she found two large pipes bisecting the room, one leading off to both her left and right.
 
Directly ahead, the direction she needed to be heading, she saw only a small pipe covered by a grate.
 
She cursed herself for making such a foolish assumption.
 

Climbing into the stagnant water, her breath caught in her throat as she sank to her waist, the frigid water quickly soaking through her clothes.
 
Shivering uncontrollably, she moved through the water, feeling the muck under the surface pulling at her legs while she walked.
 
Halfway through the pond, she paused and flashed her light down the two bisecting tunnels.
 
As far as her light would reach, the tunnels continued straight and true, no side passages apparent from where she stood.
 
Following either side passage would lead her further away from where she needed to go and keep her trapped within the city limits.
 
Turning instead toward the grate ahead, she pushed her way through the rest of the water.
 
Her feet and legs ached from the cold as numbness spread through her limbs.
 
She needed to get free of the water soon or she would freeze to death.
 

Reaching out, she pulled on the grate, which rattled in her hands but didn’t pull free of the wall.
 
Glancing around its side, her shoulders sagged as she saw the lock holding the grate firmly in place.
 
She shivered in the cold water, trying to find a solution to her problem, but all her thoughts seemed to move through a thick fog, coalescing but hard to grasp.

You need to get out of water
, the Voice said, though its words echoed from far away.
 
You’re slipping into hypothermia.
 
Quit worrying about whether or not they’ll hear you and just shoot the lock.

Pulling her pistol free with shaking hands, Keryn tried to hold the barrel steady as her breath passed through lips that were fading quickly toward blue.
 
Squeezing the trigger, her hands shook the trajectory off course.
 
The round struck the corner of the lock, but it stayed closed.
 
A soft sob escaped her lips.

Try again
, the Voice came as little more than a distant whisper.
 
Don’t give up.

Holding the pistol to the lock once again, Keryn allowed the muscles in her chest to constrict, limiting the shaking in her extremities.
 
Pulling the trigger a second time, the bullet slammed into the core of the lock, shattering the brittle metal.
 
Scrambling, she pulled the remains of the lock from the hinge and, throwing the grate open, climbed inside.
 
Though the tunnel was little wider than her shoulders, Keryn was glad to be out of the freezing water.
 
She lay in the tunnel, her face collapsed into the slime-encrusted floor of the pipe, and she panted heavily into the darkness.

Please keep moving
, the Voice pleaded, now so distant that its words rolled over her like emotions rather than sound.
 
You are so close to your freedom.

Pulling her flashlight free from under her body, Keryn pushed herself ahead through the murky tunnel.
 
The filth of the pipe coated her clothes and collected oily on her hair and skin.
 
Though exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, she kept pulling herself through the tight tunnel, her breathing labored and lower extremities burning in the cold.
 
Stopping, trying to catch her breath, the flashlight rolled from her limp fingers, its beam coming to rest pointing at the wall.
 
Moaning from the strain, Keryn lifted her head to find the flashlight.
 
To her surprise, she found herself able to see in the cramped tunnel, far beyond the reach of the flashlight.
 
Picking up her light, she pointed it ahead of her and was barely able to suppress a cry of happiness.
 
Her beam reflected off of piled white snow, its drifts beginning no more than ten feet ahead.
 
Scrambling forward, ignoring the scrapes and tears she received in her hurry, Keryn clawed through the accumulated snow and dropped, unceremoniously, from the end of the tunnel and onto the piled snow a few feet below.

Laughing, Keryn collapsed into the snow and stared up at the inviting distant stars.
 
After nearly four hours of hiding, being shot at, freezing, and climbing through human waste, she was finally free of Miller’s Glen.

CHAPTER 16:

Yen’s eyes narrowed as he entered the War Room, the dim lights casting heavy shadows on the faces of the Officers assembled.
 
The atmosphere was greatly changed from the strategic conference that had previously been held around the round table.
 
The laughter and camaraderie that had been shared between the Warrants and Officers of the
Revolution
was replaced by a brooding darkness worn on the faces of all assembled.
 
Captain Hodge looked up from the table as Yen entered, her face hidden behind her folded hands.
 
Worry lines cut creases across her forehead and spread like spider webs beneath her eyes.
 
She looked as though she had aged greatly over the course of the night.

The muted conversations quickly died as the last of the staff assembled, the door to the War Room sliding silently closed as the last entered and took her seat.
 
All eyes turned toward the Captain, who had placed a ship-wide call requesting the immediate presence of all Officers and Warrants.
  
Though all eyes remained locked on Captain Hodge, she sat wordlessly at the head of the table, her feathery wings quivering slightly in rhythm with her quick breaths.
 
Yen squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable as the anticipation built in the room.
 
Knowing why the meeting had been called did little to alleviate his impatience.

After long moments of silence had passed, Captain Hodge dropped her hands heavily to the table.
 
“We have a problem,” she stated bluntly, her voice devoid of the airy singing that normally accompanied her words.
 
“This morning, Eminent Merric failed to report to his duties as the ship’s Tactical Officer.
 
All of you are aware that this lapse is highly unlike the Eminent.
 
Though repeatedly called throughout the morning, he failed to respond to any transponder calls.
 
We pulled up the ship’s tracking system, which should have identified his exact location based on his unique transponder signal.”

The Captain paused, drinking in the sight as the Officers and Warrants around the table leaned closer.
 
“We were unable to find his transponder signal anywhere on board.
 
As I’m sure you are all aware, that can only mean one of two things: either Eminent Merric is no longer on board,” she paused, scanning the gathered faces, “or his transponder has been destroyed.
 
We already checked the records for the airlocks.
 
None were used in the past seventy-two hours, meaning that Merric did not leave the ship.”

Yen looked at those sitting around him.
 
Their faces all reflected the same expression that he had so carefully crafted: a look of utter surprise and dawning realization of the Captain’s implications.

Captain Hodge chose her next words carefully, speaking slowly in order to emphasize her points.
 
“If Eminent Merric did not leave the ship, as we are now forced to believe, that only leaves the option that he is still on board.
 
With him failing to arrive to his shift this morning and his transponder being destroyed, we can only assume that something malicious has occurred, something that is keeping the Eminent from responding.

“I do not wish to make accusations to anyone in this room.
 
I am forced to believe that the Officers and Warrants under my command are above reproach and above the scandalous accusations of which I am forced to make.
 
Unfortunately, I do not have that luxury.
 
Until my Tactic Officer is found, I have to assume that everyone, including those in this room, is suspect.”

The assembled crowd broke out in insulted outcries, rallying against such accusations.
 
Yen listened to their cries of indignation, nodding slowly as though in approval, though it was unclear as to whether he approved of the Captain’s decision or that of the Officers and Warrants.
 
After a few moments had passed, Yen stood slowly, gesturing for the members in the War Room to settle.
 

Though his voice was soft, it carried clearly across the wide room.
 
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice barely calling over the outraged defiance of some of the more outspoken members.
 
“Ladies and gentlemen, please be seated.”
 
As the din in the room lessened, even the louder members of the War Room turned to the new speaker and, hesitantly, took their seats.