We ran down the last line of stairs to twenty, into an empty hallway. The floor was cloaked in darkness. The screams of women and children were muffled by distance.
Michael went into a crouch, advancing forward. On level nineteen the firefight continued. A man screamed; us or them, I couldn’t tell.
We walked unopposed into a rec room — the same one Elias and I had spoken in just a week ago. Michael continued on into a dark hallway. The level was eerily silent.
We kept moving until we reached Hydroponics. The grow lights bathed the plants, casting green shadows on the many lanes running through it. Sprinklers misted the plants, producing rainbows as they refracted the light.
Michael approached the railing, low to the floor, peeking over. He watched a moment before turning toward us, holding up four fingers.
Four men on guard. It made sense that the Lords would leave some guards here. The food was their source of power.
There was no way we were sneaking by with almost twenty armed men, so Michael took careful aim. Several more Angels approached the landing, doing the same.
One of the guards amid the plants was startled, looking at our position. He squinted at us, as if unable to believe his eyes.
We opened fire.
Two of the men fell immediately as the other two dove for the plants. From within the maze of green foliage, several women screamed.
“Cease fire!” Michael said. “They have civilians working down there.”
We backed way toward the wall and away from the railing.
“The gang lords are the target,” Michael said. “This just distracts us.”
I didn’t like leaving the civilians behind, or the Lords at our back, but Michael was right. We had to stay focused on our goal.
Michael stepped away from the railing, sidling along the metallic wall, keeping as far from the overhang as possible. The men followed suit. The Lords below couldn’t take shots unless they actually climbed the stairs that led to the overhang — in which case, we’d have the advantage.
The sound of footsteps pounded from the corridor behind. Several voices called out as we readied to defend ourselves.
“It’s us! Angels!”
Three men appeared out of the original four that had stood guard at the stairs.
“What happened?” Michael asked.
“The Lords abandoned their position on nineteen,” the Angel said. “They disappeared onto the level, so we came to find you.”
Michael nodded. “Keep close.”
He turned and waved us on. He approached the corridor leading to the hangar.
We went around the corner. Michael hung right, where a flight of stairs branched from the corridor and ran down to the hangar. The metal steps rattled beneath our boots. Michael, at last, reached the metallic door reading “Hangar.”
“I don’t know what’s after this door,” Michael said. “Be ready for anything. Go on my orders. If the fire’s too heavy, I’m closing the door again.”
The men nodded their understanding. Michael clicked off his rifle light. He waited another moment before pulling the latch.
The door swung open, revealing the hangar to be dim and empty, vast in the absence of spaceships. If there was to be any resistance, we should have found it here.
Michael stepped forward. We fanned out, forming a wide V.
I focused on a dark row of windows halfway up the right-hand wall. The control room.
“They could be in there,” I said.
Michael nodded. “We need to be careful. It’s too damn quiet for my liking. Maybe Cain went out on the attack, but I don’t think either Rey or Jade would get their hands dirty.” Michael paused a moment, thinking further. “If Rey and Jade are here, that means they have guards.”
Michael motioned us over to the right-hand wall. We followed its length until we reached a doorway. The doorway opened onto a long, dark corridor. On our left rose a set of steps, leading to the control room.
“That’s the way up,” I said.
“I don’t want to attack into a choke,” Michael said.
“We don’t even know what’s up there,” another Angel said.
“True,” Michael said. “We need a way to flush them out.”
I handed Michael one of my grenades. “Try this.”
Michael took the grenade, thinking on it.
From upstairs, a woman screamed. It sounded like…
“Ruth!” I said.
“Hold up,” Michael said. “They’ll kill her if we try anything.”
“Well, we have to do something,” I said. “I don’t think they know we’re here.”
“I know that,” Michael said, frustrated. “Let me think.”
Ruth screamed again. A man cursed. There was a slamming noise, like someone being forced against a wall.
That was enough. If this was just bait to get me to go up the stairs, then I guessed it was going to work.
I charged ahead, my feet slamming on the steps.
“Alex!” Michael said.
It became silent upstairs. I threw my AR over my shoulder by the strap, instead reaching for my Beretta. I rounded the flight, only to see darkness ahead. I was beginning to regret my decision, and it felt as if my heart would pound out of my chest. I forced myself onward, before I could second-guess myself.
I burst onto the landing. My first sight was of Ruth lying in the corner, her face bloodied. The second was of Jade, shirt off, blue eyes looking at me with shock. They were the only two in the room.
A guard burst into the room, aiming a handgun my way. I ducked right before a bullet was fired. It whizzed over my head. I returned my own fire with the Beretta, not really having the time to take careful aim.
Time seemed to slow, each bullet taking an eternity. The guard got several more shots off, and it was only the darkness of the room that saved me. Each flash gave me a brief, terrifying glimpse of the guard, appearing at a different location with each shot. His eyes were wide with fear.
Finally, the man cried out. I thought I’d gotten him, but he kept on shooting, seemingly unaffected. By this time, four shots had been fired at me, and each had missed. I couldn’t stay lucky for too much longer; it was only a matter of time until one of them connected.
I adjusted my aim upward, toward the neck and face of the guard. This would be a hard shot, in the darkness and with a small, moving target.
I fired twice, nabbing the guard in the jaw. He gave a bloody scream as I fired again, right between the eyes.
During the few seconds the gunfight happened, Michael and the other Angels had charged up the stairs from behind. Meanwhile, the Weasel had been searching for his weapon.
I didn’t give him another second. He turned away just as I fired into his back. He gave a horrible, parched wail that seemed more Howler than human. I fired again as he sprawled onto the floor and went still.
I scanned the rest of the control room, adrenaline coursing through my veins. There was another door, at which I pointed my Beretta with shaking hands. I held this position for several seconds, my hands shaking, as Angels entered the room.
Finally, I forced myself to relax. Ruth was in the corner, fighting tears. There was a tightness in my throat, and an anger in my gut for what had happened, or what was about to happen. At least Jade was dead, and Ruth was safe.
“Here,” I said, handing her my canteen.
She took it, taking a drink. I set my pack on the ground, opened it up, and pulled out a clean shirt. I knelt beside her.
“Here,” I said. “You can clean up with this.”
I looked at her face, which she turned aside. A deep bruise had surfaced below her left eye, while her nose had been bloodied. It could have been worse, but it looked like we came along just in time.