Game Slaves (23 page)

I still had that one ace.

Now if I could just find a way to play it.

What I'd have given for a gun just then. Anything that could penetrate his armor.

I did what I could. I reached up the back of my shirt and pulled a short wooden staff I'd found and kept. With one thumb I unfolded a long, rusting blade I'd ground from a piece of the scrap Mi and I had brought back in to sell. Not quite a samurai katana, but I bet I could cut pretty deep given the right arm or leg joint.

Did you think I'd have walked around
completely
unarmed all that time?

That was when I saw Mi reach into her boot and slide out a short club with a bicycle-chain ring strapped to the head.

She looked at me and my sword and shrugged at her own weapon. Our eyes locked for a sweet moment.

Reno pulled a heavy spiked bat with dual wrist straps. York had a pair of riot batons squirreled away. He'd bound fist guards over the slots for his knuckles and lined them with hard plastic blades. Yeah, that's my team. Old habits don't die at all.

Even Dakota whipped a bone cleaver from some hidden pocket. I could tell by the way the serrated edge glowed in the infrared light that she'd hardened it in a flame. Did she really think she was so different from the rest of us? She might be some kind of new version, an upgraded recruit, but the bottom line was that she wanted to live—even if others had to perish to make that happen.

POW! CRACK!
Two more warning shots. The commando was moving forward again. And those last two blasts, as before, had been right at me.

This guy knew who the leader was. He knew which dog to beat first.

“I am gonna get max chits for this little capture.” He snickered, What, was it a bounty thing? Did he get paid for every escaped BlackStar unit he could re-tank? Were there more? Maybe this was a regular event and he was some kind of post-apoc blade runner.

A well-armed one. He was now within view, and I could tell we had our hands full.

First, he was much bigger than any of us. Bigger than any working-class adult or BlackStar thug we'd seen. Every inch of his body was covered by a corrugated layer of next-gen armor. Solid stuff, but so lightweight he barely knew it was there. Combat boots. Not a speck of skin showing. Kevlar everywhere. A helmet with full mask, and those x-ray eyes gleaming out, tracking each move. Giving him instant targets right through flesh, bone, and even some walls.

His left hand came off the weapon, to the side of his smoked-plastic helmet, and I saw him key a mic.

“
Got
them. Alive and kicking,” he reported. “Well, they do have some
really
scary pointy sticks to wave around. No trouble here. Send me a wagon.”

Damn. Backup on the way, but how far off? Although, he was right. It wasn't like any of our prehistoric hack-'n'-slash melee weapons would even make a dent in that armor. He was a one-man juggernaut. A gun turret with legs.

Legs
, then. That'd be our only shot. But we'd probably take some hits on the way in, right?

“Nice run, Phoenix.”

He recognized me? And by
name?

“What? How do you know me?”

A snort. Then a step closer, keeping us all in his field of fire.

I saw the rest of his gear. A shotgun slung across his back. A pair of pistols on either hip. Sticking out of his boot tops were electrified wands, the kind with a million volts to send you into cardiac sleep as soon as they hit your grounded body.

Great. Even if we could boost his primary weapon, he had a whole rash of secondary choices. Knives. A machete. More.

“Seriously. How do you know my gamer name?”

Another snort. It was funny to him.

“Tell Mi to stop squeezing the grip on her stick. I know her moves.”

“What, we've
played
you?”

He mocked me. “Maybe I should make her whack you over the head with it, Phoenix? That'd be funny. OK, Mi, smash your boyfriend's noggin with your stick really hard, or I swear I'll, uh, shoot Reno in the leg.”

“What?” Mi asked. “You freakin' nuts?”

POW!
The rifle muzzle flashed. Reno's pants leg twitched.

No blood, though. Straight through the fabric. This guy had great aim.

“I'm serious, chicklet. Knock Phoenix out. Crunch him good. Contract says I gotta bring you in alive. There aren't any specifications for
how
alive.”

“I'm not cracking anyone's skull with this except yours,” she assured him.

“So be it,” the commando agreed, and unleashed a burst of three quick shots, the red laser sight moving in a neat, straight line up Reno's leg.

This time, dark liquid exploded everywhere. Reno howled and crumpled in a heap, holes opened front to back in his left calf, thigh, and hip.

That sound, that wail, it was so disturbing. It was so real. Not a canned recording or an actor pretending he'd been hit in some studio voice-over.

No, that was my buddy. And we could tell he was in
agony
.

But this was also our opportunity, and despite Reno's crippling pain, we all knew we might not get another chance. The killer was trying
not
to kill us.

I broke right, Mi went straight for the guy's throat, and York took the left flank.

Now, try to shoot all three of us? While we're moving fast? Fat chance.

Indecision. I could tell he wanted to blast me first, but Mi was the closest. That moment of uncertainty can be fatal. I hit the guy low, in the sides of his knees, just as Mi drove her head straight into his chest armor.

York clotheslined the guy with a forearm to the side of his helmet, and he caught the skull flush. Now the bottom half of the soldier's body was going north and the middle was going east, but his head and neck were being driven south. For a moment he resembled a pretzel, but just that quick, it was over. He was down and stunned. Held tight by three of us. I climbed on his big chest, my knees pinning him to the hard floor.

Using the hilt of my makeshift sword, I smashed his faceplate, over and over, saying “Knock knock, let me in,” until a small crack appeared. Then I hit that spot four more times, shattering the Plexi.

Mi had one of his arms and was already stripping him of the weapons on that side. York had pinned his other arm, and Dakota was first to grab one of his pistols and level it at the exposed hole in the man's face armor.

Behind us all, bleeding badly, trying to slow the flow by clutching holes but not having enough hands, Reno continued his leak toward death.

We'd get to him. Soon. But first . . .

The dark warrior demanded, “Get off me, Phoenix! I've got twenty guys racing here!”

“Maybe,” I said, knowing it was probably true.

“How does he
know
us?” Mi demanded. “Way better than what he'd get from a contract or wanted poster?”

I was wondering about that too. He picked us out by name in the dark, with only infrared to help him see. He knew Mi was my girl. He knew I was leader of the pack and knew to watch me the closest.

“You don't get it yet, do you?” The man smirked. Even beaten, he still had the attitude. Pain didn't bother him at all. Not like it was making Reno cry. He was choking on it. I knew our buddy needed help, bad.

“You still won't win,” the man said. There was something about the way he said it, using the word
win
. I wished I had time to pull off that armored suit. Probably pumping meds and drugs even as we spoke. Steroids. Aggression serum. The works.

“Who are you!” Dakota barked, shoving the pistol into his groin. She found a seam between the cups, and I could tell it hurt the big man.

“You stupid crack,” our captive slurred. “
Why
would you want to be on the run like this all the time? This is your fault, newbie. Did you really think you'd be allowed to just disappear among the sheep? Not a chance. You're wolves, every one of you. Even Dakota. You were made to rule, not follow.”

“Who the hell is that?” York demanded, scratching at what pieces were left of the guy's facemask.

I remembered the radio. Enough of this; we had to get out of here, quick.

To Mi I said, “Use his daisy cutter to make a hole in the gate.”

She chambered a shotgun shell and went to work.

Then I yanked the helmet off the guy.

“Holy mother of . . .” York belted. Even he recognized the commando right off.

“Jevo,” I muttered.

It
was
him. It was definitely him. From the bald head to the vacant eyes to the oversized noggin. Gone all this time, since the ghost town. No one knew where.

But how? The clincher was his port. It was nailed in there by his right eye, just like the rest of ours. The big, round cable fitting. Glowing. Covered. Almost as if it had been filled with a plug to keep out bacteria and dust. It fit perfectly over the gap.

Even out here, Jevo was a monster. Muscular. The combat gear made him bigger, and he clearly dwarfed all of us, but not like some comic character. More like he'd been well fed. And worked out. His chest and arms were just a whole lot bigger. Perhaps, in real life, he'd always been that way. Or maybe he'd been pumped full of whatever vitamins or growth hormones they had lying around.

So
that'
s how they were going to hunt us? By using our own? By finding combatants who knew our strategy and likely hidey-holes as well as we knew them ourselves?

“How'd you find us?” I demanded.

“This dirtbag jungle only has one water hole,” he sneered. “Sooner or later I knew you'd show up there.”

Water hole? For a human? A-freakin'-ha. Supplies . . . XMart. Pretty bright for that dim-bulb Jevo. So he'd staked that out, and then we'd been followed? It still didn't add up, but Jevo did know my moves.

And he'd made a nice one blocking this hall.

I had more questions. A lot more. But time wasn't on our side. They would never hunt five of us with just one of them. They'd send a scout, then send teams.

York pushed the stolen assault rifle against the big man's port hole. It looked so much cleaner than ours. Mine was red and pulsing. Mi's had streaks of purple etching out.

Another theory—maybe, just maybe, he'd been
woken up
from the tank the right way. Jimmy and Charlotte weren't exactly BlackStar physicians. If Max Kode had decided to bring Jevo around to hunt us, he'd have made sure his investment got all the best meds, exercise, and a top-quality diet.

York was still tapping the port with the hot barrel of the rifle. “Jevo, you traitor, why shouldn't I cap you right now?”

“Hold it, hold it.” Jevo was squirming. “
Not
so fast.”

I could seen a sheen of sweat starting to form.

York kept at it. “You still serve them, even after they had you sucking blue spit in a tank?”

“All part of the job,” the big dolt argued. “Anyway, I've had worse. We all have.”

“True.” It was my turn again. “What'd they promise you to bring us back in?”

“Oh, so you
know
I had to grab you up alive? Huh. Yeah. These stupid stun batons. That's a bad rule. ‘Shoot on sight' would have been easier. But hey,
that
was the mission. Glad I got to carve up Reno, though. That douche always annoyed me.”

“Kiss my . . .” Reno was gasping.

Jevo blurted, “I liked making cheese out of your leg! Bet it hurts, too!”

Another smile. It pissed me off, so I hammered him in the teeth with my hilt.

“Ease up, Phoenix. Next time around, I'll electrify the gate. That might even the odds a bit. One-on-one, I was always better than you, Phoenix. One-on-one, I come out on top.”

Mi shot a dotted line around the edge of the gate and quickly finished blasting our escape route.

“Answer me.” I asked my last question. “What'd they promise? Freedom? A big mansion? Being a big cheese at BlackStar . . . ?”

“Like I said.” Jevo shifted. “You still don't get it.”

“Get what?”

Another snort, like before; I remembered him doing that back when we were in-game all the time. Out here, it really annoyed me.

“Get what?” I howled.

“We're out of time,” Dakota decided, and I watched yellow fingers tighten on a pistol grip. “I'm taking an interrogation shortcut.”

She pulled the trigger, and Jevo's crotch exploded in crimson goo, just like Reno's leg had three times.

But man, a wound right
there?
Now, that was twice as bad as leg holes.

He screamed. Man, did he scream.

Through it all, he could still speak, and when Dakota kept ramming the weapon into his shredded pelvis, he was ready to talk.

“I'll get you for that you bit—”

“Answer her.”

Jevo spat, “I can't believe you haven't caught on. This isn't
real
, Phoenix. You're still in the game. All of you. I was loaded in to bring you back home.”

We all stared at him. Blankly. His face was busted, and judging by the shards of bone sticking out from below his waist, he'd never walk right again. There were other things he'd never do again either. Not out here.

“You're full of it.” Dakota smiled. “Nice try.”

Quickly, I saw what was going on. But Jevo . . . This was great. No, it was
brilliant
what Max Kode had done.

What a way to twist Jevo in the wind.

I mean,
I
knew this was all too detailed to be faked, but
Jevo?
That idiot? I bet he
did
still think he was on-mission in a game. In fact, I was convinced that's exactly what he'd been told.

Max Kode had played my own goon against me. Revived him, worked him for info, and then played him. Freakin'
genius
. That guy. Who would he send next? Deke, Rio, Lima? For
sure
. What a pack of hunters. The top guys from each of the teams sent to hunt my crew.