Skulkers

A single figure dropped onto the floor, then looked around and stood up slowly.

"Well done, Martha," she said stiffly. "Not a murmur on standard channels. I think we still have them fooled."

Martha stepped out of the way, and someone else fell from the skylight, landing with a sort of awkward slump.

It was a boy. Not only that, but the same boy I had helped capture a few hours ago. It was Petrus.

"What's Salkavar's bitch doing here?" I asked.

Petrus looked up at me and shrank back.

"My initial idea was to take Salkavar by force," said Anna. "Petrus believes he has a better option."

"Pff," I scoffed. "Leave it to a boy. I'll be ready to put her lights out when it fails."

"Please don't say that," Petrus whimpered. "Martha told me all her secrets; I know what she's been doing behind my back. But she's my wife and I love her. Can't you understand that?"

I gave him a strange look.

"Please, can we go?" he asked. "The faster we do this, the better."

I started down the hall.

"Martha, wait!" said Anna. "I should go first."

"You're the boss," I shrugged.

Anna stepped out into the hall I had come from, then looked down at her tablet, watching as little red blips scooted by on an overhead map of the facility. She motioned us to follow and took off.

"I remember this," said Petrus, his voice weak and airy. "Take the third door on the side."

We reached the third door, and Anna and I both looked around habitually. Unlike her, I remembered to check the ceiling.

Petrus stepped up to the door, grabbed the handle and closed his eyes. He heaved in a deep breath and mumbled something to himself. He pulled the door handle, and it didn't budge.

"It's locked," said Anna, handing him a metal cylinder. "Use this. It's a machine interrupter. Just attach it to the lock and press the green button, and it should force the door open."

Petrus took the interrupter, his face drawn tight with worry, and gingerly placed the interrupter over the door at hand-height. The magnetic clasps did their work, and he pressed the green button, then stepped back.

There was an ear-splitting snap and a puff of sparks, and the heavy metal door clanged against the wall. Inside, three pairs of eyes stared back at us, wide with shock. The first thing I noticed was a tall, hunky man standing in the middle of the room, his pants down. He had his right hand on the head of a tied-up boy who knelt in front of him, sucking him off. The tied-up boy's cock was out and hard, but I could tell he didn't want to be there. His eyebrows rose into his black hair, and his blue eyes were fixed on me. I could see him struggle to move away, but the hunky man's hand kept him where he was.

"What are you doing here?!" barked a female voice. "This is non-public!"

The speaker was a tall, naked woman with hair even darker than the boy's, and she wore a crush cap. Her face was all business, which was impressive, because I could tell from three yards away that she was horny.

The crush-cap woman examined us, one by one, then reached for her hip, her fingers grasping at a gun that wasn't there. She looked panickedly up at us, then she saw Petrus, and her face froze, then crumbled.

For three long seconds, she and Petrus stared at each other, looking like they'd just seen a ghost.

"Honey?" said the crush-cap woman. "What are you doing here? Who are these two?"

So this was Salkavar, the butcher herself. My fingers tickled the holster of my gun, every bone in my body yearning to put a bullet in this monster and be done with it. But I knew better than that. Besides, I wanted to see this.

Petrus' mouth stuttered open and shut for a few seconds, and he shifted uncertainly, then mopped his misty eyes. Carefully, Salkavar approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Honey," she whispered, looking him in the eye, "what did they tell you?"

"Is it true?" he sobbed. "Do you really just take men off the street?"

Salkavar hesitated.

"Honey," she moaned, drawing out the last syllable, "you don't understand. It's not-"

Petrus threw her hand off his shoulder said, "Answer me!"

Salkavar stepped back, horrified. She looked helplessly to Anna, then me. I folded my arms.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said at last. "I didn't have the heart to tell you..."

'Bullshit,' I thought.

"...but it's true. The people we interrogate... they're not always conspirators. Sometimes, the police will just arrest on suspicion, but..."

Petrus buried his face in his hands and wailed. Alicia's words died in her mouth, and her head bowed.

"Why?" cried Petrus. "Why do you do this?"

Alicia palmed her forehead miserably. Petrus' crying subsided, and he stared pointedly at her.

"All I wanted was order," she mumbled at last. "Do you remember what the streets looked like before the new government, Petrus? No one set foot outside at night. Men weren't even safe in their own homes! Can't you understand, that, Petrus? I couldn't let that continue. And when the new order took over, I got the chance I'd been wanting for so long."

"That's not what you're doing," said Petrus sourly. "Can't you see? I'm still not safe. No one is."

"And you've only got yourself to blame," I threw in.

Anna motioned me to keep quiet.

"I'm sorry, Petrus," said Salkavar. "I am so, so sorry. If I could do it all over again, I... I don't know what I would have done. Will you ever forgive me?"

Alicia held open her arms and stared imploringly at Petrus.

Petrus stood where he was, his face contorted with grief. His eyes closed for two long seconds.

"Take off the hat," he said. "And I will."

Alicia swept her crush cap off her head and stared at it for a moment, as though she'd never seen it before. She tossed to her feet and kicked it disgustedly away.

Petrus let out a bare hint of a smile, then stepped up to Alicia. The inquisitor wrapped her arms around him and mashed into a kiss. When their lips came apart, Petrus laid his head on her shoulder.

"I still love you, Alicia," he mumbled. "But this can't go on."

"I know."

They stood there for a whole minute, breathing heavily. I shot a worried glance at Anna and tapped my wrist, indicating time.

"Mrs. Salkavar," she said, "I have a proposition for you. If you will resign from your position, we can get you and your husband safely to the Harava republic."

"Will they know who I am?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"No."

I gritted my teeth. So this was what Anna and the bitch had in mind. After all that, the butcher was getting off the hook.

"Martha," said Anna, "retrieve Charles, please."

I looked around for a moment, confused, then saw the hunky man standing unassumingly in the corner of the room. The black-haired boy sat beside him, untied.

All at once, I recognized him. That was Charles. I stepped up to him and knelt.

"Holy shit," I whispered, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," he muttered, not looking me in the eye. "Just a bit shell-shocked."

I looked accusatorily up at the hunky man, then softly back down to Charles. I noticed that he didn't have a shirt.

"Here," I said, shaking off my overcoat, "you want this?"

"Thank you."

I laid the coat gently over his shoulders, and he carefully fitted his arms through the sleeves. He crouched, then wobbled to his feet.

"Let's move," said Anna, as Petrus and Alicia kissed again. "Charles, are you alright?"

"Alive and kicking," he answered.

"Good."

We all filed out, Alicia first. When I came out, at the back of the line, I started to ease the door shut. Then it occurred to me look in. The hunky man still stood there, baffled and scared.

As soon as we established eye contact, I pressed my thumb and forefinger together, then drew them across my lips. He nodded hastily.

With that, I shut the door.

Charles-

I kept an eye on Salkavar and her husband, waiting for them to try something stupid. Instead, they kept their eyes trained on my boss, listening to her like it was going to save their lives.

I looked back. I knew I should have been worried about being spotted by guards, but all I could think was how ugly I looked with Martha's jacket on instead of my vest. If I'd been a girl, I probably would have said something about it. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and stayed with the pack.

Martha started walking beside me. I was almost in the mood to hit on her. After Salkavar and her muscle man had gotten fresh with me, I figured I'd be out of action for a while, but Martha was making me uncomfortably horny, looking as suddenly confident as she was. Without her coat, she wore a tank top, which exposed her nicely rounded, muscular shoulders and clung to her small but nicely rounded rack. I looked over to her, and she looked back. But she wasn't checking me out. Her head turned down and her mouth frowned hard.

"This is bullshit," she said. "After all that monster did, she's getting off free?"

"It'll mean a big enemy out of our way," I shrugged. "Right now, that's all I want. You score a victory, you don't get to complain about it."

"I can't believe Anna expects me just sit here and let her go. And, mark my words, she'll act surprised when I'm still pissed off about it a month from now."

"I know how you feel. But you ought to do your best to take it down a notch."

"No. No way in hell am I forgiving her... either of them. I'll never forgive Salkavar for all the people's she's tortured, and you bet I'm never going to forgive Anna for letting that worm get away. Salkavar even got to keep her bitch!"

"Hey, don't blame the guy. None of this is his fault. And I didn't say you should forgive them. I said you should try and be less angry about it."

"No. I don't tone done my spirit like that."

I thought for a moment.

"Alright," I said, "let me just put it this way. Boys always like a girl who can keep her head screwed on straight."

Her face softened, and she went silent for a minute.

I smiled; now I was talking her language.

"What else do they like?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

Just like that, I had a bite.

"I can't speak for all boys," I demurred, "but there's a special place in my heart for strong women."

She perked up.

"And I don't mean just huge muscles," I added. "I mean strong on the inside. I mean they need to be cool-headed and determined. I like women who know how powerful they are. Women who don't get insecure and have to prove it to themselves all the time."

"So... women like Anna."

"Kind of. Make no mistake, though, I like ladies with fire. Anna is stable, sure, but there's just no energy in her. But you? You've got it to spare."

She stared excitedly at me.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm thinking the same thing over here. So how about this: we missed the martial-arts tournament, right? So if you can get us back to the hideout without losing your cool, see me at the tool shed. I'll have a cot lain out for us."

"You're on."

Martha-

Halfway back to skylight where Anna came in, the air came alive with screeching. Everyone stopped at once, and we looked everywhere, trying to find who had noticed us. The hall was empty.

"They've made us," said Anna. "Damn. We should have been outside by now."

"What are we waiting for?" I cried. "Come on, let's move it!"

"Wait!" said Salkavar. "I can stop them!"

As the screeching continued its assault on our ears, Salkavar broke from the group and scurried up to a console on the wall. She pressed a button and pulled out a microphone.

"Stand down!" she yelled into it. "This is Inquisitor Salkavar! That's a false alarm! I repeat- false alarm!"

She set down the microphone and looked expectantly up. The alarm kept screaming. Before I could yell at her again, she turned and bolted back to us, then we all sprinted for the entry point.

In fifteen seconds, we were at the offshoot hall. After five more, we stood under the skylight. I fetched the footstool from the closet where I had found it last, then put it under the skylight again. Everyone helped each other up, and I went last. I did my best to kick away the footstool before the rest pulled me up.

The exact minute I was on my feet, Anna pointed to the street and said, "This way, and don't hurry. Better to be stealthy than fast."

'Bullshit,' I thought again.

Under the grey sky, with nondescript sirens warbling in the background, we tiptoed across the metal roof of the interrogation house. Anna kept in a spot of the roof that was lower than the others, giving us a couple feet of cover, and I followed her.

Then, at the edge, she stopped all at once. Salkavar stumbled behind her, but stayed on her feet, and Petrus nearly ran into her. Charles crouched and touched a hand to the ground like an animal ready to charge.

I didn't see how stealth was important, but I didn't want to disobey Anna, so I stooped a little.

A metallic shearing noise rang in the silence, then a hard clank.

"It's secure," said Anna. "Follow me. One at a time."

With just that, Anna climbed over the edge of the roof and shimmied down. Everyone else went, in their usual order.

When Charles went down, I finally got a good look at the edge. A grappling hook held onto the lip of the roof. A couple of grey bulges marked servomotors on the claws of the hook, and a cable with built-in footholds dangled from the head. Leaning over, I saw a narrow alleyway beneath, with the opposite wall rising to a roof that was just a little more than ten feet away from me. Directly beneath us, a low vehicle sat on the smooth concrete, smothered by a black tarp. Unless someone had screwed up, that was the Scorcher.

The rope shifted under my hands as I climbed down, measuring my movements carefully. When I finally reached the bottom, I let go and slumped to the ground, bending my knees as evenly as I could.

By the time I was on the ground, the tarp was off the car, and most of the crew was in. I piled in after them, then knelt by the rear deck and peered out the back.

The engine snarled, and I grinned; I was back in my own element. We pulled out of the alley, and I let myself relax a little.

Then I heard heavy throbbing noise. Peeking upward, I saw a pair of headlights in the sky, then the long, slick form of an attack helicopter.

"Chopper!" I yelled. "Shit!"

A light burst out from the chopper, and a tiny black dot raced after me, billowing a cloud of black smoke behind it and grinding through the air with a candescent shriek.

I jumped forward in the car, away from the missile, and, then everything went white. Fire washed over my skin, my hearing cut out and I felt myself tumble over and over. I saw concrete, then sky, then I felt a heavy slap on my back.

First, my hearing came back, then I felt gravel beneath me. I groaned and rolled over, then tottered to my feet. I stood for a moment, nearly falling over, then opened my eyes. My vision finally cleared out.

I was under a bridge, standing in a valley of grey rocks and pebbles. Charles was next to me, looking almost as screwed-up as I was. Above us, the Scorcher sent up a column of smoke and fire, and three figures pulled themselves from the wreckage. Salkavar yelled something, then her voice was drowned out by the sound of chopper blades slapping the air.

"We need to get out of here!" said Charles, his voice loud and strained. "In here! Follow me!"

Charles disappeared into a ten-foot-tall drainage pipe under the road, and I ran after him, my feet sloshing on the loose gravel. Just before I went in, I had the presence of mind to pat myself down and see if I had all my stuff. Nothing was missing.

In the cold, clammy air of the drainage pipe, my footfalls clapped on the hard concrete, echoing for what sounded like miles. I saw a spot of blue light on the ground ahead as Charles clicked on his diode flashlight.

"Hey, girl, are you there?" he breathed.

"Yeah," I said, walking next to him. "I'm here. So what's our status?"

"You mean how screwed are we?" he whispered. "How should I know? Let's just pick up the pace."

Charles started off in a sprint, leaving me behind as his swaying blue light bobbed into the distance.

'Is he pissed at me?' I thought.

His footsteps halted all at once, and his light jerked around for a moment, then shined on me.

"Sorry," he squeaked.

'Wait,' I thought. 'He's not mad... holy crap, he's scared.'

I sprinted for a bit and caught up to him.

"Hey," I said, in my calmest voice. "Don't freak out."

"I'm not getting caught again," he rasped. "Not again. We're getting out of here."

"Come on, Charles. We're out of sight for now. We'll just take this all the way back to the hideout, no muss, no fuss."

"What's that?!"

I stopped and listened. There was a mournful, drawn out mechanical wail in the air.

"Crap, they're onto us," I growled. "Hurry."

Without thinking about it, I grabbed his hand and started running again, keeping my footsteps as even as I could.

"It's coming from ahead," I panted. "I bet we turn before then, and they miss us. If we meet it, play dead and have your gun ready. Maybe we can sucker-punch 'em."

We ran and panted for a few more minutes, staring straight ahead, trusting that we wouldn't trip over anything.

"I see a right up ahead," said Charles.

"Let's go for it."

Charles pulled right, and I ran after him, pushing off the wall just so I could tell where it was.

A saw a grey concrete wall far ahead. The way the tunnel was built, I couldn't tell what I was looking at for a moment. When I did, I stopped cold.

"Charles, stop!" I yelled.

Charles froze.

I stood next to him and looked down. Sure enough, the pipe stopped a few feet ahead, opening down into a straight-edged chasm. A few more steps and Charles would have been road pizza.

"Oh, jeez," said Charles, stepping back. "Let's... let's keep going."

"Wait," I said. "Look up there."

I pointed up and to the left, where there was a maintenance catwalk that joined this wall, then ran a few feet beneath our pipe. On the other side of the chasm, where the catwalk emptied onto a prefab work shelter, there was a dormant work light sitting on a cheap metal table.

"Let's go up there," I said. "That light's off. That means the workers have all punched out. We've got the run of the land."

"Okay," said Charles.

He looked down.

"Damn," he added. "Good thing I'm not afraid of heights."

I went first, jumping off the concrete and onto the metal grate of the catwalk. The metal lurched under me for just a moment, then steadied. The chasm echoed with the high-pitched crash of taught cables tickling the concrete.

"Jeez, that was loud," said Charles.

"Hustle up!" I whispered. "We'll be in and out before anyone sees a thing."

Charles climbed down from the pipe and landed softly behind me, and I started down the catwalk, crouching as I ran. At the top of the steps, I vaulted out of the work shelter, and my feet clapped onto solid ground. The next moment, Charles came after me.

I looked ahead. The parking garage that marked the hideout was in sight only about a quarter-mile away.

"There it is," I said. "Home sweet home."

"Alright!" said Charles, "come on, let's go!"

"Hold it a sec."

I crouched by the work shelter. Charles shot me a baffled look, then tilted his head, seeming to hear something. Carefully, he edged up to the precipice of the gorge and looked up.

"Crap," he said. "Chopper."

I sidled up next to him and looked past him. The same chopper as before, or maybe just a look-alike, throbbed overhead.

"She won't see us here," I said. "We're under too much cover."

"Yeah, but there's a lot of dead ground from here to the hideout. I say we wait it out. Curfew ends in a couple of hours. Then we'll be just normal people."

"Except for all this equipment. Look at us- we could fuck up a whole station."