Liquid Bank - Chapter 12
A Megacosm Novelette
Chapter 2 - Economically Viable
Chapter 6 - The Communication Room
Chapter 12 – The Turn
Matthew ducked, taking Meagan with him by the hand as the bullets sprang off the metal pipes.
“You okay?” Matthew shouted, waving his hand through the mist.
“Yes!” Meagan replied, stumbling behind him.
The steam trick did well to hide them but the previous patience the gunmen had shown was now replaced with a spray of rounds that punctured the pipes he and Meagan weaved through.
“Where are we going?” Meagan shouted.
“Out,” Matthew replied, “How many rounds do you have left?”
Looking down at the gun, Meagan said, “Four…I think.”
“Good, make them count,” Matthew said as they exited the maze of pipes and hobbled as he ran to a service door.
Trying the handle, the door jingled in his grasp but failed to open.
“Figures,” Matthew said.
There was a black card reader next to the door, but a quick check of his belt proved that he had lost his ID somewhere in the steam.
Matthew scanned down the wall, seeing red in the shadow that caught his eyes.
“Stay here,” he said and limped down the wall. “And keep an eye out, will ya?”
Meagan turned and knelt, scanning the steam for shadows through the sights of the gun. There was a crash of breaking glass before she saw Matthew returning with an emergency ax in hand.
Matthew glanced at the ax, “Well, it is an emergency,” he said.
“Hurry!” she replied with the gun out.
A loud clang made Meagan’s shoulders flinch. This was followed by several more that sounded like shotgun blasts as Matthew struck the door handle with the ax. Holding the gun out with both hands, her arms began to tremble, knowing each strike was a clarion call for the murderers who were hunting them.
She wiped her sweaty left hand against her dress. “Matthew!” she shouted, and then heard a clang of metal skitter against the concrete.
“C’mon,” Matthew said, his strong hand lifting her by the bicep.
Turning, the door handle was on the floor, bent and broken. The door was ajar with a black space beyond. Meagan began to run into the opening until she felt a tug on her arm.
Looking up, she looked into Matthews’ eyes as he hesitated.
“What?’ she asked. “Why are we stopping?”
****
Steam misted on Finlay’s forehead as he held his rifle with both hands and waded through the maze of pipes. The boys flanked him on his left and right, just a bit ahead to flush out the rats. There were drips of blood on the ground that they followed like breadcrumbs, weaving through the metal until it led to an open door.
“Get in there Gary,” Finlay said with a nod of his head.
Gary complied and began a trot through the door. Ramsay followed close behind him and Finlay looked around, getting a sense of something off about the situation.
“Gah!” Finlay heard Gary scream and turned to see him doubled over inside the door. Hunched forward, he was clutching his gut, and there appeared to be a wooden handle sticking out of his side.
Blam! Blam!
Two shots twisted Ramsay against the wall. Two more sent a spray of red from his head.
“Son of a…,” Finlay said, turning his rifle in the direction of the shots behind them.
“No!” Matthew shouted, emerging from the shadow inside the door, pulling the ax out of Gary, who slumped to the floor. Leaping over the body, he slammed his shoulder into the Finlay, who twisted from the impact.
The blow sent the rifle flying, crashing to the ground before it slid into the steam. The gunman had recovered quicker than Matthew had intended, his blow weak from the loss of energy, and he blocked his ax swing by wrapping his left forearm around his.
A right hook followed that nearly took Matthew’s head off and dropped him to the floor. A kick sent him against the wall, dislodging the ax from his hand. He expected another kick, when he saw Meagan jump on the gunman’s back, clawing and scratching at his eyes.
“Bitch!” The gunman said, twisting his shoulder to drop her to the ground. The kick Matthew anticipated went into Meagan’s gut, doubling her over as she wretched.
Crawling off the wall, Matthew scrambled to the ax.
“You tried that one already, boyo,” Finlay said, stalking behind him as he adjusted his tie.
Using the handle to get to his feet, Matthew glanced over his shoulder and limped away.
“Oy, and a coward ta boot,” the killer laughed as his gait quickened.
The metal ax head clanged against the concrete as Matthew hobbled away. He made it several feet until he was stopped by a dead end. Leaning his head back he took a deep breath, and then looked over his shoulder, seeing the thief just behind him. Matthew turned around and brought the ax to the side of his head.
“You might as well take that final swing,” Finlay said with a grin, “because once you do, I’m gonna take that ax from you and shove it up your ass.”
“Okay,” Matthew said, before he twisted at the hip and swung the ax behind him.
Metal clanged against metal sending sparks flying, and Matthew jumped away with the ax in hand. The pipe he struck shook in its moorings as a spout of steaming hot water spat from the gash he made in its side.
Screams echoed off the walls as the boiling water showered Finlay from head to toe. The pink of his skin reddened, blistering the instant the water splashed against him. Hands clinched by the sides of his face; Finlay was frozen from the agony as the burning water trailed beneath his clothes leaving rivers of liquid hot down his skin.
With a swing of his arms, Matthew sent his ax between Finaly’s eyebrows, his eyes staring into the distance as his suffering ended.
From the edge of the steam, Meagan walked slowly towards him, still holding her stomach.
“I’m out,” she said as the gun clang against the ground.
Matthew held her by the arms to keep her up.
“You all right?” He asked, looking at the top of her lowered head.
“Can we get out of here now?” Meagan whimpered.
“We can’t,” Matthew replied, and he felt her body give a touch.
Meagan’s head sprang up. “What? Why? You said taking the generator would open the doors!”
“I’m sure it did,” Matthew said and looked around, “but don’t you see? There are only three of them. I saw more than that before. Where did the rest go?”
“Who cares!” Meagan yelled.
“Simon,” Matthew said as he looked beyond her, “God, I’m so stupid!” He shouted as he turned.
Matthew limped away, waving his arms through the steam.
“What, we’re not leaving now?” Meagan said as she followed. “We need to get out of here and radio for rescue!”
Leaning down, Matthew stood back up with Finlay’s rifle in hand.
“Don’t you see, Meagan?” Matthew said as he checked the magazine and slapped it back in, “none of these are that Broden guy we saw. He sent them after us but doubled back, and I think I know why.”
“Why?” Meagan asked as Matthew walked towards her.
“When I shut down the genny, I reset everything. Even the vault failsafe’s,” he replied.
Meagan looked around, “but the lights are on.”
“Yes, but it takes the vault systems time to fully reboot, and Broden knew that,” Matthew replied as he walked past her, “this is why he didn’t kill us when they first attacked. He wanted us to trip the power to secure the vault, then kills us. Two birds with one stone.”
“So, we’re not leaving then?” Meagan said, shoulders slumping.
Matthew turned and looked into her eyes. A sigh left his lips, and he tossed her the satellite phone.
“I can’t ask you to come with me anymore. Take the radio and get outside and make the call,” he turned, “but I need to end this.”
Meagan looked at the phone in her hands, chewing her bottom lip.
“Wait, I’m coming with you!”
Novelette
“Writing a novelette allows the writer to create all that supporting information to back up a short story. Whether a short story is meant as a scene in a larger story, or simply as a story by itself, it will always be taking part in a larger world.” -ThisIsWriting
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Plot:
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