His friend, a tall, skinny man with a thick mustache, tilted his head. “Yer wearin’ all black…” His breath stank like liquor. He pulled a flask from his pocket and took a swig. “Whaddya doin’ that fer?”
I saw Kindred taking deep breaths to calm herself. Sparky eyed the stairs that would carry us back to the basement.
The skinny one squinted at Kindred. “Yer not lookin’ so good…”
Kindred’s face went white, and she curled her hands into fists.
“Knuckles,” she said, “prepare yourselves!” She couldn’t be serious—she was still wearing the pink flip-flops, after all. What did she think she was doing? “For today,” she continued, spinning her fists in the air, “we serve knuckle sandwiches.”
With a single jab, she smashed the skinny guard in the face, and he crumpled to the floor. Immediately, she clutched her hand. “Mother—”
“Kindred!” I said.
She blushed. “Sorry, dear.”
Before the other guard could react, she decked him too. He fell harder than the first. As we stole their guns, I noticed that the fat one had a headset shoved in his ear—he was miked. The rest of the guards had surely heard our encounter, and would come looking for us. There wasn’t much time.
We ran up the stairs after Sage, who seemed to know every step and turn of this building by heart. How long had she lived here? At the fifth floor’s landing, we heard guards pile into the stairwell from the third floor’s landing, swarming like bees as they climbed.
Sparky turned toward Sage. “What floor is Security’s main office?”
“Fifteenth floor.”
“Think you can hack it?” I said.
“Affirmative. I suggest we implement a bomb threat procedure.”
“A lockdown?” I asked.
He nodded.
“What good will that do? We’ll be trapped.”
“The alternative,” he said, “is letting the reinforcements, which they’ll inevitably call, take this building by storm. And they’ll be armed with things far worse than these guns. Just look at the walls,” he said. “The Light House is like a giant bomb shelter: if we can’t get out, they can’t get in. It’ll be better if we take this fortress from the inside out.”
I nodded. Better to be locked inside with the building’s existing defenses than allow the entire might of the Federation to be brought in.
When we reached the eleventh-floor landing, I stopped, but the others kept going. “But, Charlie—”
They shook their heads.
“She’ll be here when we get back,” said Sage. Guards were still bursting onto landings on the floors below. They were only one floor behind us now—we had to keep moving. “C’mon, Kai.”
Sage seemed to have realized that what we were doing involved far more than just making her a few new friends, though she didn’t seem to mind. I nodded, and followed her up the stairs.
At the fifteenth floor, the door to exit the stairwell was secured with a retina scanner. Just below us, more guards burst onto the fourteenth floor’s landing, joining their comrades who were, at this point, breathing raggedly. One groaned something about “NEVER. TAKING. THE STAIRS. AGAIN.”
I grabbed one of the guns we’d stolen from the guards and fired at the retina scanner. The bullet ricocheted right off it. One of the guards in the fray yelled: “OH MY GOD, CRAIG! MY SHOULDER!”
The lights in the stairwell began to flash what was by now a very familiar red. The woman’s voice came on the speakers: “This is not a drill.”
Firing at the scanner had sent the building into lockdown. I smiled weakly at Sparky. “At least we don’t need the security office.”
He shook his head. “Negative. External systems can override normal lockdown procedures from the outside: the reinforcements can still get in. The bomb threat protocol can be activated only from the central security office. It’s the only procedure that can prevent them from getting in.”
“And you know all of this, how?”
His face flushed red. Tim patted his cheek. “Er—I might have hacked the security system a time or two before they activated the new protocols. I’ve got a lot of free time, okay?” I guessed never sleeping would do that for you.
Just then, the door to our landing was kicked open, and six guns were immediately pointed at my face. My chest tightened.
“Well, hey,” I said, trying to keep things casual. Sage curled into the space between the door and the wall, hiding in the shadows. “It’s nice of you guys to—uh—help us out… in a weird way.”
Kindred shoved her gun in a guard’s face. “ON THE GROUND!” She fired a round of bullets in the air. “ALL OF YOU! GET ON THE GROUND!” She took a deep breath. “Dears,” she added quickly.
Three men turned their guns toward her. “DROP YOUR WEAPON,” one shouted.
Kindred’s hands shook as she dropped her gun. She pulled off a pink flip-flop, and tore its strap. A crumbled gum wrapper fell into her hands—one of Bertha’s bombs. If she set it off, the whole stairwell was going down.
Like a giant bomb shelter. If the bomb exploded, the Light House’s walls would absorb its force, and the building would implode, collapse in on itself. The guards exchanged confused looks, but kept their guns focused on her chest.
Kindred held the wrapper in the air. “Two kilotons,” she said. “At least, that’s what they tell me.”
“Horse shit,” muttered one of the guards.
“It’s your choice, dear.” She moved to slam it against the ground. “Not like I have a wife and kids… What do I care if we die?”
“WAIT!”
Kindred smiled. “Hand over the guns, dears, or we’re all dead.” They passed them over without hesitation. She pushed past the men into the hall. “Now, if you’ll excuse us…” We moved past the guards, slammed the door shut behind us, and hurried down the hall, now fully armed.
Outside the central security office, more guards waited, but again Kindred led us through. A giant 360-degree screen wrapped the central security office’s walls, showing footage from cameras across the fortress. Sparky immediately pointed to one image—reinforcements closing in. The Light House was surrounded. Within minutes, the reinforcements would be inside.
Sparky ran to a keyboard in the corner and clapped his fingers on the keys. The massive screen went black, then a flood of green scrolling ones and zeroes appeared. Sparky was hacking the system. Occasionally, Tim slapped a claw on the keyboard and Sparky gave an approving nod.
Suddenly the screen flashed to an outside view of the building. Guards hurried toward the fortress, but before they could get there, sheets of metal slammed over doors and windows. Sparky had activated the bomb threat protocol. The guards threw themselves at the doors, calling for backup.
Sparky stared at the guards. “No use calling your friends,” he said. “I’ve blocked all signals within a one-mile radius.” He smiled at the keyboard. “This thing’s got some wicked controls.”
Kindred nodded. “It’s wicked, all right.” She raised the gum wrapper bomb in one hand. “I say we still take this place down.”
Sage nodded. “To the ground.”
“But first,” I said, not wanting them to forget about Charlie, “the others.”
We were so close. I’d see her in minutes.
“GET ON THE GROUND!”
A guard stood in the doorway, his gun aimed at Sparky, his finger caressing the trigger. Sparky started spinning in his chair—a feeble attempt to dodge the bullets, I guessed.
The guard fired.
Kindred fired too.
The guard fell to the floor. Blood pooled around his limp body.
“Oh—oh my god,” said Kindred. “Oh, dear.” She threw a hand over her mouth and sobbed as she stared at the man she’d killed.