CHAPTER 13: Fight! And flight.
Erin went back to finish dressing, and I picked up the phone, and quickly dialed.
“Randy… Yeah, it’s me again… No, fine, fine. Things are heating up… No, not in that way—well, actually, yes, in t too… Yeah, I know this is an East Quadrant number, it’s my client’s apartment… Hey now, no need to get crass… Look, no time for that now. This line has just now been cleared of bugs, and any minute now, the GovInc automatic monitors are going to wonder why they aren’t hearing anything. Randy, I need another favor… yeah, I know, but this is serious. Do you still have friends at the Ocean? ...Yeah, the Edge of the World Clan, I remember. Do you think they’d allow a friend of a friend access to their stuff? …No, seriously… Look, just make a call for me, and let me know, ok? …Yeah, leave the message in the usual place…” I heard the sound of heliplanes in the distance. “Look, Randy, I have to go. They’ve located us… Ok, half an hour.”
I hung up, and ran to the back room, where Erin had just finished packing up a bag. She had decided on a rugged-looking pair of pants, with boots to match. “Erin, we have to go. .
“What is it?”
“Those heliplanes are no doubt on their way here. Looking for us. Well, not us, but for whoever dismantled their bugs. Which is us. So we have to haul ass.”
“Not in your car, we won’t.”
“You have a better idea?”
“Yeah,” Erin said, sweeping up a set of keys and tossing them to me. “We’ll takemy car. She breezed by me, slinging the bag over one shoulder. I followed her to the elevator, scooping up my jacket as I went. We stepped into the elevator, and Erin jabbed at the button for the basement. The doors closed, and we plunged hundreds of floors, accelerating as we went. At this rate, we’ll hit free fall, I thought. Soon enough though, I could feel the huge disc brakes start to apply pressure, and after a few minutes, and several readjustments to the air pressure, we came to a gentle stop.
The door slid open, and there was a figure in the doorway. A large man, at least 6’6”, almost as wide as the doorway, with a bulky jacket, pockets strategically placed all over it, bulging dangerously. He was wearing a helmet covered with a dark fabric, and a gun belt with at least thee visible kinds of projectile weapons, including an impossibly large gun. It was a cop.
“Shit” I said.
“Fuck” he said.
“No” Erin said.
The cop’s hand dropped to his waist, and I lunged forward, jabbing him in the throat with my fingers. The cop let out an “urk,” but didn’t go down. In fact, his right arm swung around, massive fist coming at me like a hammer. I dropped to one knee, feeling the rush of air as the punch barely missed my head, and drove the heel of my hand into the side of his knee, just behind the reinforced kneepads he was wearing. Out of nowhere the old street joke of why the cops reallywore those kneepads flashed through my mind, but I was already driving my elbow into his other knee. I threw myself backwards as the cop, foundations shattered, fell forward to the ground, his arms still reaching out to try and grab me. I quickly got to my feet, and jumped up, grabbing onto the low-hanging water pipes jutting from the ceiling of the garage, and brought my knees to my chest. The cop had his hands flat on the concrete floor, and was pushing himself up as I let go, and thrust my legs down as I dropped.
My feet met his neck and drove his face into the floor with a wet smack, followed by a dull cracking noise, his neck becoming slivers of bone. The cop shuddered a bit, then finally stopped moving. I crouched down next to him, and pulled at his jacket. Fuck, this guy’s heavy. Erin asked in a shaky voice, “what are you doing?”
I turned my head, and saw that she had gone several shades whiter. “What do you mean? Do you see all the stuff he’s got?”
“But… he’s a cop. And you killed him.”
“Better him than you, darling. Now help me roll this guy.”
Tentatively, she grabbed onto his jacket, and we rolled him over. Erin winced when she saw his ruined face. I quickly unzipped his jacket, and stripped off his gunbelt. “We’re lucky he didn’t get a call off to whoever his backup was,” I said. “There’s a good chance conventional radio signals won’t carry, so his heart monitor won’t be registering any information anyway.” I slung the cop’s jacket over one shoulder and the gunbelt over the other. “Now let’s get this car of yours, and get the fuck out of here.”
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We walked quickly through the garage, and eventually Erin’s slim, delicate finger pressed the remote starter she removed from her pocket. The response was almost inaudible, but immediate. Twenty yards away, a car thrummed to life, its streamlined frame and oversized tires putting my humble carbon monoxide generator to shame.
“Wow. Is that a MobileTek 2300? Where did you get that? More importantly, how could you afford it?”
“You have your connections, I have mine.”
“Fair enough, I guess. Look, we both know you may have another episode when we leave the City proper, so I should drive. It seems almost blasphemous, though.”
“Well, thanks for saying that, at least. Mind sixth gear. It’s sticky.” She pressed another button on her keychain, and the rear door popped open. I tossed the cop’s jacket into the rear, and walked to the driver’s side, with the door already open, inviting me in. I slipped behind the wheel. As the door was closing, I caught a snippet of siren, getting closer. Shit.
Turning to Erin, I asked, “Is there a back way out, one that, say, only a building resident would know, but isn’t that suspicious?”
“Well, yes, but it’s a ways off--” she began, as I threw the car in reverse and slammed on the gas. Erin narrowly avoided bouncing her face off the dashboard, and she scrambled for the seatbelt. “What the fuck?”
“They know we’re down here,” I said tersely. “We have to get as far away from the elevator as possible, and try to blend in.” I shifted, and the car sprung forward like an eager beast, tires gripping the tarred garage floor effortlessly. I have to get me a car like this someday, I thought. We turned a corner just as a half-dozen searchlights appeared behind us, probing the gloomy air. The lights were attached to three Urban Safety Tanks, each one bristling with so-called “crowd control” armaments, each one more lethal than the last. We weren’t quick enough around the corner, evidenced by the sudden squeal of tires, and the blare of the sirens, punctuated by the standard announcement: “This is for your own good. Stand still and be recognized. If you move, you will be considered a Criminal Element, and shot. This is for your own good…”
I floored the gas, and the car shot ahead, the parked vehicles on either side of us whiffing by. I spotted a down ramp, and aimed the car in that direction, hoping that the Tanks didn’t have as much pickup as Government, Inc claimed. We had enough momentum that the car didn’t recognize there was no longer any ground below it for a second, and then we crashed downwards along a steep ramp that took us lower into the garage. I swung a hard left, and gunned the engine, which responded eagerly, putting much-needed room between us and the police.
At the far side of the garage, a small aperture in the wall was evident. “There,” said Erin, “that’s the back exit.”
“Are you fucking kidding? There’s no room!”
“Hey, you asked if there was another exit, not if I had ever used it in this car. I suppose you don’t really think things through, do you, Mr. Cop-killer?”
I glared at her, and down shifted. “Well, hold on then. It’ll be a tight fit.” I pointed the car at the opening, and gripped the wheel tighter.
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