Thirty guards, eleven visitors, and nine inmates, dead in the time it took to draw a breath.
On the far side of the room, Jaws straightened out of his crouch, blood dripping from clawed hands. “Firewall. What’ve we got?”
The Technomancer held up an index finger. A few seconds later, he nodded. “I’m in.”
“Both elevators?”
“Yeah. Give me one more second, and…” Sweat beaded on the inmate’s scalp, then he smiled. Around us, I felt the dampeners go offline. “That’ll do it for the dampeners, too.”
“What about the cameras?”
“Overrode them as soon as the device came into play. No alarms registered on the network. We should be golden. I can hold this all as long as it takes.”
“You’ve got twenty-five minutes before we’re supposed to head up, hon,” called the tired-eyed woman who’d smuggled in the Legion device. “It’s going to be tight.”
“We knew it would be from the start,” Jaws growled, turning back to the Technomancer. “What about the dampeners in Cell Block F? Can you shut them down?”
“No dice. Every block’s on a different network, and all of them are out of my range. If I came down with you, I might be able to…”
“Nah, we need you up here, keeping the cameras looped and the elevators running. Red?”
“Yeah?” replied the Pyro who’d just killed a good thirty-five people. He was heavyset and blunt-featured, his smile almost as greasy as his hair.
“You’re on crowd control. I’m going to get the VIPs.”
“You sure you don’t want any backup down there?”
The Shifter took the bloody device from his wife, his clawed paw dwarfing her human hand. “The VIPs know we’re coming. This little thing should be all the backup I need.”
Moments later, he was on the second elevator and out of sight.
•—•—•
“Listen up, all you fine, law-abiding motherfuckers,” drawled Red, swaggering around the room like he owned it, “if you do exactly as I say, some of you just might make it out of here alive. Do otherwise, and you’ll share his fate.” He gestured, and one of the remaining prisoners was engulfed by a column of fire, the flames so hot the man barely even managed a scream.
“What the fuck, Red?” complained Firewall.
“Guy narced on me to the guards back in 69.” He scanned the room, and just that quickly, a second orange-clad inmate went up in flames. “And that one looked at me funny last week. As for the rest of you shackle-wearing assholes,” he continued, addressing the last six inmates, “I don’t know you, and I don’t give a fuck who you were before this. This is your shot at freedom. Join the cause if you want a place in the new world order. Stay out of our way otherwise.”
“You’re insane if you think you’re getting out of here alive,” declared the old man with the bushy eyebrows. “Just give up before you make things worse on yourselves.”
“Funny thing about life in the Hole, old man,” said Red, his grin going dangerous. “Ain’t much left to scare us with. And we’ve got a few surprises ready for the assholes upstairs. Too bad you won’t be around to see it—” He cut off as the imposing figure that had been seated across from the old man rose to his feet. “The fuck you think you’re doing, Stalwart?”
With Jaws gone, the Stalwart was the biggest guy left in the room. He looked across the table at the old man, and then back at the Pyro. “He’s my dad. I’m not going to let you hurt him.”
“Your dad’s got a big mouth. Someone his age should have learned better by now.” Red cocked his head. “How long has is it been since you saw daylight, Stalwart?”
“Nineteen years.”
“Nineteen years? God damn! That’s a whole fucking life already. How old were you when they sentenced you? Twelve?”
“Sixteen.”
“Ain’t that the way it goes. Just a kid but one mistake costs you the rest of your life. And here’s your old man, still kissing Cape ass. Maybe you should be the one killing him, not me.”
“Killing people is what got me here in the first place” The Stalwart shook his head. “Three dead in an armed robbery. All of them innocent. Nineteen years is less than I deserve.”
The Pyro spat to the side and looked past the Stalwart to his father. “Hold your head up, old man. You should be proud. It takes a special kind of stupid to spend nineteen years here and still feel guilty.” His hands came up and fire spat across the room at both of them.
Apparently, nobody had told Red that alcohol was the only way to surprise a Stalwart. As quick as the Pyro’s flames were, the other man was even quicker, rolling across the surface of the table to knock his father out of his chair and to the ground. A moment later, the Stalwart was back on his feet, the chains that shackled his arms and legs tearing apart with a noise that echoed through the room. He ducked another ball of fire and charged.
Every eye was fixed on the two dueling Powers. I reached into my suit coat and let the Legion gun fall into my hand. My father hadn’t even reacted to the mayhem around him. He was still in his chair, lost in his own world, pale lips flapping open and closed like a fish out of water.
I raised the gun and placed its oddly shaped barrel directly between his eyes.
“This is for Mom, you piece of shit.”
Even then, he didn’t look at me, pale grey eyes still fixed over my shoulder on my mother’s unsmiling ghost. I watched his mouth form unvoiced words, watched something like a smile spread back across his face.
I pulled the trigger.
•—•—•
In Weapons class, Jessica Strich taught us that every gun had a different trigger pull. The Legion weapon’s trigger
