“No!” She had to run. Had to move, never grow still, never stop until she and Andrew were together again, because he was all she had left in the-
From deep within the hotel she heard the sound of gunfire.
Lucy-Anne burst through the fire-exit doors into blazing sunlight, and the streets of the Toxic City resounded to the sound of her footfalls.
The Chopper soldier who had come through the door was kneeling, trying to turn his machine gun in the confined space. The one standing in the doorway behind him was far enough back to be able to aim properly, and they were his bullets that struck Gordon in the face and chest. The Irregular fell sideways and tumbled down the stairs.
Jack had only ever seen people killed on grainy internet images, and it was nothing like this. He heard Gordon's death, smelled it, tasted it as blood splashed the air and landed warmly across his face. He opened his mouth to shout, his voice adding to Emily's cry of horror.
Something blurred above his shoulder; Puppeteer's hand. His fingers flexed, knuckles seeming to ripple beneath the skin, and the kneeling soldier was snapped upright into his companion's line of fire.
Jack saw his second real-life death in the space of two seconds.
The standing soldier stepped back from what he had done, and the door swung shut until it rested against the fallen Chopper's hip.
Scryer, having dropped onto her stomach as soon as the door opened, threw herself across the dead soldier and fired a pistol through the half-open door. Jack heard a grunt and the sound of something hitting the carpeted floor beyond.
He turned around and looked up to the half-landing between floors 4 and 5. Sparky and Jenna were huddled there, pressed back against the wall, and Sparky's faced was dusted with plaster from where bullets had taken chunks from the masonry inches above his head. His eyes were wide with shock, but Jack could see that he was still alert.
Scryer crawled over the dead soldier, peered briefly into the fourth floor corridor, then ducked back into the stairwell. “More coming.” A burst of gunfire confirmed her statement.
“Why are they doing this?” Rosemary hissed. She was looking down at Gordon, angry rather than shocked, and Jack wondered just how many people she had seen killed. If they got away from this he would ask her. If they got away, there were
“Us,” Puppeteer said. He seemed to be agonising over something, staring at Jack and Emily and blinking rapidly. Then he bent down, snatched up the dead soldier's machine gun and offered it to Rosemary. “Take them down. We'll distract the Choppers. They probably don't even know you're here, so-”
Scryer fired into the corridor, ducking back and forth from behind the wall to loose two rounds each time.
“They might be coming up!” Rosemary said, pointing down the stairwell.
“That's why I'm giving you a machine gun.” He pushed the weapon at her and she took it. The tall man stepped past her and drew a pistol from a holster beneath his jacket.
Someone shouted from far away, someone else responded, and an object bounced through the door.
“Stun grenade!” Scryer said. “Cover your ears, open your mouths!” She kicked out at the grenade. It skittered across the landing, slipping beneath the stair railing and falling down the stairwell. Seconds later it exploded.
Jack had never heard anything so loud. The blast wave punched his head, his ears, his eyes, and for a moment afterwards all he could hear was his heartbeat, muffled and fast with the fear pumping through him. Then, with a whine, the sounds from around him came in again, shouting and shooting and someone calling his name over and over again. He opened his eyes and Sparky was there, not more than a hand's breadth from his face but his voice coming from miles away. Behind him Emily was sitting on a stair, slowly unravelling the carry strap of her camera, looking into the lens, checking every setting methodically as though their survival depended on it.
That brought Jack around, more than Sparky shouting into his face and slapping his cheeks. Emily was in shock, and he had to look after her. He crawled to his sister, grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly past the half- open door. Scryer was still there shooting into the corridor beyond, and Puppeteer watched them go.
There was so much that Jack did not understand. One minute the Superiors were treating him and his friends as less deserving than animals, now they were fighting Choppers to give them a chance at escape. He was certain it was not simply a case of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” It had something to do with their father, and the person called Reaper, and from what Rosemary had said back in that room…
They were one and the same.
Rosemary was already heading down towards the third floor. She carried the machine gun like a baby, and Jack had serious doubts about whether she'd even be able to use it. But the most he'd ever fired was an air rifle when he was younger, and his head was still ringing from the stun grenade.
They passed Gordon, and they could not help stepping in his blood.
“Faster!” Sparky shouted. “Have to go faster!”
Gunfire, shouting, the stink of violence, Emily coming along behind him, seemingly back to reality now but still frighteningly blank-faced; Sparky and Jenna behind her; the tang of Gordon's blood on his tongue; a scream from above, androgynous in its pain…and they passed the third floor access door without pause.
Rosemary was setting a fast pace for an older lady, and Jack could not help being impressed. But her fear was obvious, and it transferred easily to him.
There was an explosion above them, and the stairwell sang with shrapnel. Something cold touched Jack's ear. Dust stung his face. He kept running, step after step, holding Emily's hand with the grim certainty that her survival depended upon it.
“Grenade!” someone shouted, and he heard the metallic clash of something bouncing from the stair railings.
Emily screeched and fell into him. He had no chance, tripping forward with his arms outstretched to break his fall. He struck Rosemary's back and she fell as well, striking the landing and twisting, rolling, and Jack was down with her, Emily clasping onto his back.
Clang…clang…the grenade still fell, and though he had no idea where it would explode, moving felt better than lying still.
Rosemary had found her feet and was starting down the staircase to the second floor, and Jack and Emily were following, when the explosion came. It did not seem as loud as the first, but it blew him against the wall, snatching Emily's hand from his and spinning the world around his head. He was being struck from all sides, battered and thumped and cut; falling, or being hit by debris, he was not sure. When he gasped in a huge breath it was laden with dust and smoke. He opened his eyes, saw nothing, and for a few seconds he was terrified that he had been struck blind. But then someone wiped a hand across his face and Jack saw the blood.
“Jack?” Emily said, leaning over him, crying. He smiled and she cried even harder, and he thought,
His head hurt. Everything hurt.
There was more shooting from up above, but it seemed to be receding.
Someone was shouting-Sparky-and the words faded in as if he was rushing in from a great distance.
“…outside and meet you behind the hotel, find somewhere to hide?”
“Okay!” Rosemary called from much closer.
Jack sat up, and used the wall for support as he found his feet. Looking up, he realised how lucky he was to be alive. The whole flight of stairs they had just come down had collapsed, sending a shower of concrete, tiles and reinforcement rods tumbling below. On the landing above the gap, Sparky and Jenna were already peering cautiously through the door onto the third floor. Jack wanted to say something, but with a quick glance back at him, Jenna was through and gone. She looked terrified, and there was blood on her neck.
“Can you walk?” Rosemary asked him.
“Of course.”
“Don't worry, dear,” she said to Emily, “it looks worse than it is. Head wounds bleed a lot.”
“Can you fix it?” the girl asked.
“Soon.”
This time it was Emily leading Jack. They went down to the second floor landing, then had to climb carefully
