Freelancers: Falcon & Phoenix (6 page)

T
he rain turns
to a light sprinkle as the sun’s evening rays break through the dark, parting clouds. One of the rays hits Falcon and Phoenix right in their eyes. Phoenix is the first to put her hand in front of her face, blocking out the intense orange glow. She squeezes her eyes tight and starts to sit up.

Falcon’s head rests on the open window of the door. He tries to bring his left hand up to block the sunlight but the unexpected drag of Phoenix’s arm stops him. “Oh yeah,” he says, displeased at the situation.

“You, too,” she comments as she pulls her arm back towards her, finding some kind of middle ground between the two of them. She looks down at her jacket and her legs. They’re covered in bits of glass from the blown-out windshield. Popping her jacket gets the glass chunks off of it and she carefully brushes away the shards on her legs.

Little Wang sits up in the back seat and looks around at the car. More glass is in the back and the interior has dents pushed in his direction, making the rear seat feel claustrophobic. His hand goes to his head. “Anyone get the number of that—”

“Bad joke.” Falcon slowly turns around to shoot Little Wang a scolding look. He looks down in his lap and finds the gun. He ejects the magazine. Empty. He drops the useless weapon to the floorboard.

Phoenix looks over Falcon then back to Little Wang. “We’re ok.” She opens her car door and it falls off of the hinges, crashing to the ground. She takes a disbelieving glance at Falcon before stepping out of the wreck of a car, dragging her sluggish prisoner behind her. They both look the car over as Little Wang stumbles out of the back seat and falls to the ground.

“We’re ok. The car, though…” Falcon says, looking at the busted out glass and the bullet holes littering the hood. The roof looks as though it had bowling balls dropped on it.

“The other car would have taken a better beating.” Falcon admits he may have been wrong about his choice of vehicle.

“I won’t say I told you so.” Phoenix rubs the back of her neck with her right hand, pulling Falcon’s arm up with it. “At least we landed upright.” She points across the road. The Marauder bus lies on its side.

“Think any of them survived that?” Little Wang tries to look for any signs of life. The top of the bus faces them, making it impossible to see inside.

“We did,” Falcon tells him.

Little Wang watches the Marauder vehicle, knowing that Falcon is right.

“Still,” Falcon continues. “There were more of them in there than us. That many bodies. That many guns…”

“They probably all shot themselves during the roll.” Phoenix adds as she walks to the front of the car. She pops the hood and the Freelancers examine the engine. “It looks ok,” she says.

“Yeah.” Falcon reaches for one of the bullet holes in the hood. “Maybe we got lucky.”

“You got a funny idea of luck.” She slams the hood shut and pulls him back around to the doorless driver’s side. Phoenix reaches inside for the keys and turns them. A sigh of relief escapes her when the car starts.

“Like I said.” Falcon looks at her. “Lucky.”

“Ok. Get in,” she tells him. He climbs back into the car through the driver’s side. Phoenix follows.

“Wait. You’re not leaving me here,” Little Wang protests.

“Your brother tried to run us off the road and you climbed in, trying to stop us,” Phoenix tells him.

“You took me to the Emperor knowing what he would do to me. What makes you think we’d let you back in here?” Falcon asks.

“I can see why you might—”

“Good luck in Marauder country.” Falcon says as Phoenix hits the gas. The car lurches forward but doesn’t go anywhere. Phoenix floors it but the car stays in place.

“Same to you, huh?” Little Wang crouches down and looks at Falcon before shifting his gaze to the rear tire. Phoenix looks back at the object of his attention.

The tire is in a small rut. She hits the gas but the wheel just free spins, slinging mud behind it and along the fender. “We’re stuck in the mud,” she says, more for her benefit than Falcon’s. Phoenix steps out, dragging her prisoner with her. The three of them stare at the muddy rut. “Go check if there’s anything in that bus we can use.”

Little Wang stares at her like she’s joking. “I’m not going over there. You know what they’ll do to me?”

“I want to know what
you
did to
them
,” Falcon says.

Little Wang smiles. It’s a fake smile, expressing regret over a stupid act. “Marauders have chiefs. Chiefs have daughters. You do the math.”

Phoenix raises an eyebrow. “You know some of them are cannibals, right? You’re lucky you got away from
her
.”

“I hope it was worth it,” Falcon tells him.

“Well up until now…”

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get this thing moving again. You.” She points to Little Wang. “Get in.”

“Are you kidding?” Falcon starts. “You’re gonna let him drive?”

“Someone needs to push and I'm not letting you go.” She holds up her cuffed hand. “He has to drive it out.”

“Un-cuff me and the problem is solved.”

“I’m not risking you running off again.”

“You’d rather let the guy who helped try to kill us drive off, than just trust that I won’t run.”

“If there’s more Marauders, I’m not walking. I promise I won’t run,” Little Wang says as he gets in the driver’s seat.

“I feel a lot better since you promised,” Falcon says as Phoenix jerks him to the rear of the car.

The two of them put their shoulders into the vehicle. “Start slow,” Phoenix says.

The back tires slowly turn while Falcon and Phoenix push. Getting traction on their own becomes a problem as their boots slide on the muddy terrain.

Falcon readjusts his stance so his back is to the car. “Try a little faster,” he says as he digs his heels into the slick ground. The tires kick up globs of mud but don’t seem to do much more than dig a deeper trench.

“Stop!” Phoenix yells.

Movement on the other side of the road catches Falcon’s attention. He turns to face the downed Marauder bus. “No.” The side door of the bus opens and someone climbs out. Two more tumble out of the rear door. “Don’t stop. Try again.” He puts his shoulder back into the car. Little Wang hits the accelerator while the Freelancers push. The car just skids side to side in the mud, widening the trench.

“Stop. This isn’t working,” Phoenix says.

“It has to.” Falcon looks in the direction of the bus just in time for a Marauder bullet to hit the car.

Little Wang rolls out of the driver’s side to take cover. Phoenix drags Falcon around to the car to do the same.

“We’re gonna die. They’re gonna eat us,” Little Wang complains.

“No, we’re not,” Falcon says. “There’s three of us and three of them.”

“They have bullets and we don’t,” Phoenix tells him.

Falcon takes a moment to try and think of a way out of their situation. Two bullets hit the car, snapping him out of his thought. “Un-cuff me.” He holds his arm up.

“I told you—”

“I can’t get away if we’re dead. What do you have to lose?”

“I’ll think of another way.”

The Marauders start grunting and yelling unintelligibly.

“You hear that? They’ve got us outgunned and I can’t punch my way out of bullets. Can you? You want to get through this, you’re gonna have to trust me.”

Phoenix weighs her options.

“What is there to think about?” Little Wang flinches as another bullet hits the car. “They’re almost here.”

She reaches into the car and grabs her gun out of the floor board. Before joining the others, she peeks up through the passenger window to see the Marauders. They’re close enough to make out their features. One of them has missing ears. One has a missing eye. All three are horribly scarred. Walking nightmares from a bus full of even more. The one in the middle has no lips and teeth that are filed to jagged edges.

Phoenix backs out of the car, gun in hand.

Falcon looks at the weapon. “Are you going to throw that at them?”

“If I have to.”

“What you have to do is trust me.” Falcon jerks the cuffs. “Where am I gonna go? I’m in the same boat as him.” He nods toward Little Wang.

Phoenix looks at both of them, distrustfully.

A bullet goes right through the passenger side window. It hits the edge of the driver’s seat just inches from her shoulder.

“Do it!” Falcon jerks her toward him.

R
apid fire bullets
hit the passenger side of the car and the unintelligible guttural sounds of the Marauders getting closer quickly makes up Phoenix’s mind. She pulls a small key from her jacket and jerks Falcon’s arm toward her to unlock the cuff.

“Don’t make me regret this,” she tells him as she clasps the loose cuff to her wrist like a bracelet.

“If anything, you’ll thank me.” Falcon reaches into the car and pops the trunk open. The sudden movement of the hood rising makes the Marauders focus their fire on it.

“I need a distraction,” Falcon tells Phoenix.

She glares at him before crawling to the front of the car. Reaching up and banging her hand on the car hood pays off as the Marauders divert their gunfire in that direction. Falcon peeks up through the car window to see the assailants moving toward the front. He crawls to the back of the car and looks inside the trunk. No traditional weapons. Not even a spare tire or tool box. At this point he’d be happy with a screw driver. The four-sided tire iron will just have to do. He grabs it and ducks back down.

“We need a gun,” Little Wang gripes at Falcon’s defensive choice.

“
I
need a gun,” Falcon corrects him. “But this is all we’ve got. Phoenix.” He tosses the tire iron to the ground next to her.

“I’m not running out there.”

“Not yet, you aren’t.” He crawls to the fallen car door and lifts it. “It’s not too heavy.”

Phoenix’s first reaction is confusion. It only takes her another second before she looks back at the tire iron and starts piecing together Falcon’s plan.

The shooting stops for a moment as the Marauders reload their guns. The one on the left is interrupted by a gun flying at him and hitting him in the head. The other two laugh at the notion that anyone would use the gun as a projectile. That gives Phoenix all the time she needs to rear the tire iron back and let it loose. The four sided bar hits the same Marauder square in the head, instantly knocking him down. The others stop laughing as they watch him fall then return their attention to the banged up car.

Falcon charges toward the Marauder on the right, holding the car door in front of him. Both Marauders fire their newly reloaded weapons at the charging Freelancer. It’s a lucky gamble as the bullets go into the door but not through it.

Falcon crashes into the closest Marauder, knocking him to the ground and making him drop his machine gun. He scrambles to the weapon, scoops it up and fires just as the Marauder sits up to throw the car door off of himself. The bullets hit the wild looking man, knocking him back to the ground. He doesn’t get back up. Falcon turns his attention to the last one only to see Phoenix trading blows with him. He tries to get a shot but they’re both moving around too much. There’s no other choice. He has to let her handle it.

Phoenix blocks the rifle swing at her head and snaps her foot forward, kicking the Marauder in the mid section. The wild man topples over, jabbing his rifle in the ground as a crutch. Phoenix spins to the ground and kicks the gun away, bringing the Marauder to his knees still gasping for breath from her kick to his stomach.

She rushes to pick up the rifle. As she stands back up to take aim, the Marauder tackles her to the ground. A jagged knife falls down toward her eye. She brings the rifle up to block the fatal attack. Falcon finally has a shot lined up. Before he can fire, Phoenix flips her attacker onto his back and shoves the rifle down at his throat, making him drop the knife as he tries to push the gun up off of him. The angle and leverage make the task impossible. He switches tactics and kicks her up and over him.

The two lay on their backs, neither releasing the gun. They roll over at the same time and get to their feet. As they stand, fighting over ownership of the rifle, Falcon tries again to get a shot but just as before, the two keep moving.

The Marauder starts to get the upper hand by pulling her towards him. He looks in her eyes and yells at her. Not words. Just sounds. And a horrible stench rises from his body. Phoenix remains resolute. She uses the rifle as a bar and swings both of her legs up to the man’s chin. Her feet hit him before she hits the ground. The move pays off and the Marauder releases the gun, stumbling backward.

Phoenix quickly rises to one knee. She aims the gun and fires. One shot through the chin knocks the Marauder down into the mud, lifeless.

Falcon and Phoenix walk to the man she hit with the tire iron. A massive purple spot is on his forehead. “Think he’s dead, too?” She nudges him with the rifle. The Marauder doesn’t move.

Falcon watches his chest. There is no rise or fall. “He’s gone. Well?”

“Well, what?”

“I’m waiting.”

Phoenix looks at him, incredulously. “I’m not thanking you.” She crouches down and starts rummaging through the Marauder’s various pockets and pouches. Falcon does the same.

“What’s with the football pads?” she asks.

“Their idea of armor, I guess. I hear they’re big in Australia.” Falcon grabs a handful of ammo magazines.

“Are other countries going through what we are?”

“A whole world divided by race and religion? Who knows?” He looks back at the bus. “We should see what else they have. Wang.”

Little Wang rises slowly from the other side of the car. “Are they dead?”

“We need to see what’s in the bus. Come on.”

“I’m good right here.”

“Is he worth anything?” Phoenix asks.

“Never seen a contract on him or his brother.” Falcon starts to walk toward the downed bus.

Both Freelancers approach the bus with their newly acquired guns ready to fire. They ease to the roof and post up against it. Falcon glances back at Phoenix. She nods her head. He dashes to the back door. There is no movement. Cautiously, he puts his hand on the door handle and looks at Phoenix to see if she’s ready. She keeps her rifle aimed at the door while Falcon swings the door up. Phoenix quickly steps ahead, sticking the gun inside the bus. She swings the weapon left to right but is met with no resistance or movement of any kind.

Falcon holds the door open and looks inside. He points his gun backwards and pulls the trigger. The blast makes Phoenix jump back. She glares at him.

“Just checking,” he tells her.

Phoenix steps inside the bus, keeping her gun ready, just in case. Falcon steps in behind her, letting the door slam down. She spins around, annoyed that he keeps making so much noise.

“If no one moved from the gunshot, the door is fine.” He makes his way in front of her.

Men and women are piled on top of each other inside the modified bus. Falcon and Phoenix climb over the upturned jet turbine as they try and keep from tripping over the arms and legs of the fallen Marauders.

“What were they doing so deep in the empire?” Phoenix asks.

“Marauders go where they want. I heard a story where one actually got near the King.”

“Which King?”

Falcon crouches down and lifts the arm of a black Marauder. “
The
King.”

“The BSN wouldn’t allow that.”

“Unless he was black, how would they know?” Falcon grabs a nearby pack and slings it over his shoulder. He doesn’t even bother looking in it. “Every now and then, one of these crazies gets a smart idea. Easy to blend in when you look like you belong there. And Marauders will take anyone.”

“Just like Freelancers.” Phoenix thinks aloud.

“Just another group of law breakers and rabble rousers. Only we have a conscience.” He looks back at her for emphasis.

She narrows her eyes in response, wondering if there is some kind of meaning in his emphasis.

Phoenix notices a pair of hand guns. She picks one up and slides it into her holster. The other goes into her belt.

“Better take this, too.” Falcon hands her an ammo belt. Of the four slots only two have magazines in them. She takes the belt and straps it around her waist.

The sound of an engine revving surprises both of them and they share the same questioning glance. Falcon jumps up to the windows above them and pulls himself up. Poking his head out, he sees their car moving, slowly, forward. “That damn…” Falcon watches as their car drives through the field.