Liquid Bank - Chapter 9
A Megacosm Novelette
Chapter 2 - Economically Viable
Chapter 6 - The Communication Room
Chapter 9– Rescue
“Eh, you have a light?” Murray asked.
Clements glanced at him while holding his rifle that was slung across his body, the black sling wrinkling his gray suit. “Broden said we’re not supposed to smoke in here,” he replied as his fingernails scratched his brown hair.
Murray glanced about as he put the cigarette into the corner of his mouth, looking up at the lights and dead security cameras, “what, we gonna set the alarms off in here?” He mumbled.
The two stood in a niche just outside the bank rotunda, in front of twin lacquered wooden doors that led up to the second floor. At Clements’ feet was the Mega he was told to guard, sleeping like a baby on his stomach from the dampener on his neck and with hands zip tied behind his back.
“Eh, I saw Broden smoking just after this started,” Murray continued.
“Seriously?” Clements replied, looking up from Radio.
Murray eyebrows twitched up as he put out his hands, hoping to emote the truth of his lie. “Would I lie?” He said, the cigarette dangling between his lips as he spoke.
Clements sighed, “Fine, here,” he said, digging into his pocket to toss him a silver lighter.
“Ah, you’re a Godsend, my friend,” Murray said, catching the lighter. Twisting the rifle he had slung over his body to his back, there were three clicks before the fire lit the tip of his cigarette. With a satisfied sigh, he pulled in a long drag that burned his lungs with sweet relief.
Two snaps called his attention as Clements called for the smoke before Murray could finish it all. Face twisted from having to share, Murray took two quick inhales before holding out the cigarette just as he heard a tiny voice.
“P…please, don’t hurt me,” a woman said.
White smoke coughed from Murray’s mouth as he fumbled to bring his rifle back up. Clements had already beat him to it, tossing the cig to the ground and shouldering his rifle.
“Stop right there!” Clements shouted.
The woman froze in her tracks. Waving the cloud of smoke away, Murray could see that this woman was shapely, cutting a nice figure inside a flower dress, shaking like a frightened deer with her hands up. Yet, as scared as she was, there was something off about her sudden appearance.
Behind her, there appeared to be something that twisted in the ambient light, but it was impossible for Murray to tell if it was just dust or a trick of the light.
“Eh, where did she come from?” Murray asked, still coughing.
Clements’ shoulders shrugged, “Dunno, guess she has a high tolerance.”
Glancing at each other, the two walked forward one step at a time.
“Just stay right there,” Murray said. He took in her image, noting the filth that covered her dress. “Eh, why is she so dirty?”
“Dunno that either,” Clements kept walking slowly; eyes trained on the woman. “Call Broden,” he said.
Murray fumbled with the radio on his belt, just getting the device at his mouth when the woman glanced at him and then ran.
“Stop!” Murray shouted with a tense flinch, just getting his radio back to his belt. Ear-ringing shots fired by Clements tore into the wall beside her as she turned the corner, the flower-laden dress trailing behind her.
Clements and Murray ran, feet pattering against the carpet as they gave chase. They turned the corner in unison, running into a gray cloud of smoke that filled the hallway from floor to ceiling, twirling in pale spirals where the woman ran into it.
“What the hell is this?” Murray shouted with panicked breath, his nostrils stinging from the stench.
Rifle still on his shoulder, Clements side-stepped into the thick of the fog like a hunter tracking a shadow.
“Clements, are you crazy man? This radge is going to get us both killed,” Murray mumbled, breath twisting the smoke as trails of sweat tickled down his armpits, “just hold up, and let me call Broden.”
Lowering his rifle, Murray put the radio close to his mouth.
“Gah!” Clements yelped. A line of gunfire ripped the floor as something pulled him into the fog that puffed out to swallow him whole with gray fingers.
“Clements!” Murray shouted. The radio shattered on the marble as he brought his rifle to bear.
A shadow rippled in the smoke, running as it moved from Murray’s ten to two o’clock that he followed with a burst of gunfire.
“Go!” Murray heard a male voice shout, forcing his head to the right to follow the sound.
Emerging from the fog, and running with an obvious limp, was the guard that had been the rat in their cellar, taking out his friends.
“Ah, the buftie stops hiding!” Murray shouted as he ran behind him, “don’t know who the bonnie was you got working for you, but I’m coming to get’cha!”
Watching the gunman chase after Matthew, Meagan slinked through the last of the grenade smoke that had begun to dissipate, tiptoeing around the corner. Lying on the floor was the Mega Matthew had charged her to free somehow.
He was a large man, still dressed in his black armored gear and with his hands tied at the wrists behind his back.
“Hello?” Meagan said with a poke to his side, “hey…hey!”
Yet, the Mega didn’t budge, drool dribbling from the corner of his parted mouth as he dozed like a sleeping baby.
During the briefing of his plan, Matthew said he saw the Mega topple when they put some device on his neck. Looking down, she saw what looked like an off-white neck brace, not the futuristic technology she was expecting. Feeling around the collar, there were no latches or seams she could feel to pull it open.
“Oooh!” Meagan groaned, glancing around when she heard more gunshots echo in the distance, followed by the pattering of rubber boots on the ground. More gunmen had appeared to hunt Matthew down in the rotunda, their sporadic gunfire shattering glass.
“Wake up you stupid Mega!” She shouted, pushing at his side. Around her were potted plants and a shiny wooden bench against the far wall, but nothing that she could use to try and pry the collar off.
“Wait!’ She screeched, reaching inside her dress pocket to find the stiletto from her broken heel.
Ra-at-tat!
More bursts of gunfire blared behind her, coming closer as Matthew was leading them back to where he hoped the Mega would be waiting. Tongue sticking in the corner of her mouth, Meagan used the broken heel to stab at the collar at where she thought she felt a soft point, yelping when it finally broke through. Several more stabs shattered the mechanisms inside and there was an audible click when the brace detached.
“Ah!” Radio shouted, perking up in an instant. His strong hand broke the zip tie on his wrists in one motion.
Leaning on his hands, his eyes were wide as if he had just woken up from a bad dream. Sweat drenched his dark hair into spikes that fell about his face, his back arching as he took in deep, shaking breaths.
“Are you okay?” Meagan asked, standing and leaning in.
Hearing her voice, Radio looked up. Seeing Meagan’s shining hazel eyes staring at him brought a stiffness to his back as he used a hand on her shoulder to rise to his feet.
“What happened?” Radio asked, palm on his forehead as if he were trying to work out the cobwebs. Gunshots made his head jump up. “Nevermind,” he said as he moved past Meagan.
Down the hall, Matthew slid into view, using a bloody hand on the ground to stumble forward as rounds sailed over his head in white streaks. After he lumbered a few steps, three suit-wearing gunmen turned the corner behind him, rifles on their shoulders and ready to fire until they saw Radio staring at the trio.
“Ah hell,” Murray said, fumbling to remove the rifle slung across his body.
The other two gunmen chose the opposite path, getting over their shock to take aim.
Teeth clinched, Radio’s eyes burned a fiery red. Murray felt a rumbling inside his rifle, the metal vibrating to a clatter.
“Eh! Drop your guns!” Murray shouted, still squirming to get out of the sling that was caught in his jacket. Working it loose from the tails in the back of his suit jacket, the black metal slammed against his chest as he slid the sling over his sweat-slicked neck.
Boom!
“Oh!” Meagan screamed, watching as the rifles exploded into the gunmen.
Black shrapnel ripped flesh into strips of red ribbons, metal tearing into the gunmen that cannoned red slicked organs through their backs, exposing jagged bones to the light.
The three fell in a splash of red, limbs twitching from residual brain function that spilled onto the marble from shattered skulls.
“Uh,” Matthew groaned as he fell facedown onto the cool floor.
“Matthew!” Meagan shouted as she ran to his prone form and went to her knees, “Let me see, are you shot?”
Huffing deep breathes; Matthew looked up at her, “No. Few scrapes. Just tired.”
He tried to stand, but his arms wavered, prompting Meagan to help him up under his arm. Radio came to lend a hand, leaning Matthew against the wall to keep him up.
“What’s the sitrep, Spark?” Radio asked, hand on Matthew’s chest and looking around.
“We’re being robbed,” Matthew replied with a swallow.
“No shit,” Radio said, and then turned his eyes back to him, “where are the guys? And why the hell hasn’t the cavalry shown up?”
“Got the drop on us,” Matthew replied, head lolling as he caught his breath.
“Bullshit!” The Mega spat, “even if they took me down, the AI would have smoked this entire facility with a sleeping agent the minute it spotted a gun.”
Matthew looked up.
“It’s a failsafe,” Radio replied, seeing the accusation in his eyes, “no one but me, Martin and the managers know.”
“Well, they got to the AI,” Matthew said, pushing Radio’s hand away to stand on his throbbing ankle.
“But…that would mean….,” Radio flustered, turning on his wrist monitor to hear it playing a whimsical tune.
“Yeah, we’re on our own,” Matthew said in a low tone.
“Not only that but the AI controls the navigation,” Radio said, looking around the ground, “without it, were a runaway ship.”
“Then we need to get out of here,” Matthew said with a sigh as he hobbled towards the rotunda with Meagan following close behind.
Bodies littered the bank floor. Armored guards, wait staff still wearing their suits and ties, and customers were sprawled out like cotton-stuffed dolls, forcing Meagan to walk gingerly over outstretched arms and legs.
“Oh my God, it’s a massacre,” she said in a hushed tone.
“I don’t remember any of this,” Radio said, his head looking about.
“They got you first,” Matthew said, “that brace’s effects were instantaneous. Do you even know what that was?”
“A device that can turn off a Mega?” Radio asked as he stepped over a body. “No, could be a Praetermind invention or M.D.C. tech, or both.”
This brought a glance from Matthew.
Radio met his gaze. “So, what’s your master plan tyro,” he asked.
A furrow creased on Matthew’s brow, the pain wracking his body making him less tolerant of the jab.
“What’s a tyro?” Meagan asked.
“Nothing,” Matthew replied.
A smirk spread across Radio’s face as he glared at the rookie guard.
“My plan is that we walk right out the door. You know the customer gangway extends pretty far from the ship. If we can get the door open, we can get past whatever interference that is keeping the comms down.”
“And what are we going to call them on, genius?” Radio replied.
Matthew knelt, hovering over a red puddle, and turning over a body. As the body turned, Radio recognized Martin’s face, half painted in blood. “Those bastards,” he gasped.
“Sorry friend,” Matthew muttered, turning over Martin’s body until he found the device in the back of his belt.
“His radio?” Radio asked.
“It has a sat-phone setting,” Matthew looked up, “another failsafe.”
“Let’s check the door,” Radio said, walking past Martin’s prone form to grasp the gilded golden handles.
Back flexing, Radio gave it a strong push outward, but the door did not move. Taken back, Radio’s face stiffened, and he put his shoulder into the door that barely disturbed the hinges.
“You son of a…,” he muttered, grabbing hold of the handles in a tight grip. With a steel gaze, his eyes burned a soft red, using his power to probe the door to blow off the locking mechanism, before he let go of the handles as if stung and took a step back.
“No good?” Matthew asked next to him.
Radio looked around the edges. “We’re on lockdown,” he said, “it seems like the one thing that did work on this barge was the locks that activated when the sensors detected lead dust or cordite. They even used a material that negates my power on the locks. Unless you have several bricks of C-4 somewhere, we’re not getting out of here.”
As the two guards were talking, Meagan looked down at Martin’s body, and then at a well-dressed woman she remembered seeing at the departure zone. The woman looked peaceful lying on her side. Her red lipstick still appearing fresh and Meagan wondered if the woman was a wife or mother with kids who would never see her again. Looking at her dress, she noticed something odd about its appearance, the lack of blood from a wound.
“Guys,” Meagan said as she walked towards the woman, “guys, I think I found something.” She knelt, touching the woman’s throat, and then twisted to look at the pair of guards several feet away. “Guys!” she shouted that got their attention. “This one is alive.”
Duck-walking to a white-haired man who was flat on his stomach with arms outstretched over his head, her fingers went to his neck.
“This one is too,” Meagan said, standing and looking about, “I think they are all alive.”
“Not Martin,” Radio said.
“Or Roland,” Matthew added.
“No,” Meagan said in a low tone, remembering the young guard, “but I think them and the woman are the only ones.”
“Can we wake any of them up?” Radio asked.
Squatting down, Meagan pealed back the man’s eyelid, staring into the pupil. “There are some stimuli to the light, but he looks like a patient under general anesthesia. He’s not coming around until whatever is in his system wears off.”
“Tranq rounds. They didn’t want to kill anyone,” Radio did a full turn, looking about, “what the hell is going on here then?”
“Who knows,” Matthew said, showing Radio his arm, “the bullet shot at me was real enough. Nothing has changed. We need to get out of here.”
“How many more thieves are there?” Radio asked.
“Enough,” Matthew said, leaning his back against the barred door, “too many for even you.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, body relaxing.
“Can we force them open?” Meagan asked.
“I just tried,” Radio said in a kurt tone.
“No, I mean, tell the doors to open somehow,” she replied.
“How? Plutus is wasted,” Radio said and patted his sides, “and I don’t have a key.”
“Meagan you’re a genius,” Matthew’s eyes shot open. “We need to get to the generator room,” he said, looking at Radio, “If we can overload the genny then that would reboot the system…”
“Forcing the doors to unlock! That might even fix the AI,” Radio finished, but then his face fell, “but we don’t know what shutting down Plutus will do to this barge. We could stop in an instant, killing everyone inside.”
“You have a better idea?” Matthew asked.
Radio glanced at Meagan, who shrugged, then looked at the floor.
“Guess we have a plan,” Matthew continued as he leaned off the door with a groan, “think you can overload it?”
“Never tried something that size,” Radio said, “plus my power doesn’t work that way. We want to disable the generator, not destroy it.”
“Guys, I found this,” Meagan said as she walked towards them holding Martin’s service firearm. As organized as the thieves were, they somehow missed accounting for the gun.
“Guess we’ll have to figure it out, Radio,” Matthew’s face stiffened, furrowing his brow, “and at least we’re armed now.”
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:
"A chance encounter introduces Linda Mark to Henry Collins, a recently discharged Green Beret. Used to dealing with war veterans because of her husband Shawn, a former Army Ranger, they quickly strike up a friendship."
"Yet, events spiral out of control, and Linda and Shawn struggle to survive as Henry’s affection for Linda turns into a deadly obsession."
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