The Far Shores (The Central Series) (64 page)

“I know,” Drake agreed,
pausing to spit before hoisting his rifle. “Worrisome, ain’t it?”

A moment later,
Michelle’s barrier protocol activated just in time to prevent them from being
crushed as several tons of rusting metal came crashing down.

***

“This is going to be difficult,”
Karim said thoughtfully, removing the scope from the enormous and angular
length of the Barrett. It wasn’t his favorite rifle, but it was the only weapon
he had that had been altered to handle the depleted uranium rounds that would
allow him to penetrate the walls of the factory, along with whatever else might
separate him from his target. “More so than I had imagined. It’s already a
madhouse in there, and I doubt matters will grow much clearer.”

“Do you need to change
positions?” Chike offered brightly, his sunny disposition apparently
unshakable. It was one of the qualities that Karim had quickly come to
appreciate about the apport technician, who was busy double-checking the
complex wiring extending from his elaborate mess of demolition equipment. “I am
prepared to move.”

“Not necessary, thank
you.” Karim bent over the rifle, using only the iron sights, technically meant
for use only in an emergency. Given that he would be primarily using the
information he gleaned with his remote-viewing abilities to aim – information
he
felt
, rather than saw – a scope would only provide a distraction. “Not
yet, in any case.”

Chike nodded without
looking up from whatever he was soldering with a pen-shaped, propane-powered
tool.

“Very well. Let me know.”

“I will.” Karim allowed
the information from his own expanded sensory net to merge with the flood of
data relayed via telepathic link from the bank of remote viewers that Central
had focused on the site, his mind struggling to realign perceptions that
differed from his own in a variety of intrinsic ways. It was a mess, and after
a moment of contemplation, he cast it aside, to rely only on his own
impressions. They had kept him alive thus far, after all.

Moving slowly and
methodically, Karim loaded the magazine with the special rounds Vladimir’s lab
had prepared, trying to picture the shot in his mind. It was an act of near-total
concentration, but still, there was enough awareness left for him to note with satisfaction
that it would likely be the most challenging day of his career.

***

Mitsuru assumed that she hit her head
during the fall, because her memories were fuzzy, and it took an indeterminate
amount of time before she became aware of her surroundings. She glanced around,
seeing nothing but meters of twisted beams and supports, and behind that the
brief and brilliant reflections of protocols and the distant flickering of
spreading fire. Her head ached and her ears offered only a dull ringing sound,
and though she could see the occasional muzzle flare, there was no sound of
gunfire. She put her hand to her forehead, and then studied her bloodied
fingers, before pushing the information aside as of no consequence. Standing
was more arduous than it should have been, but at least she hadn’t sustained
any broken bones in the fall. Mitsuru was aware that she had probably suffered
a concussion, but that too was of little importance, as long as she could
remain standing.

What was important was
her position.

Her priority was to neutralize
the defense in the immediate vicinity of the World Tree so Chike could apport
in to destroy it. As her faculties slowly returned, Mitsuru realized that the
telepathic network had gone silent, either as a result of Haley being
incapacitated, or because of her own concussion. Slowly, the sounds of the
calamity around her filtered through the ringing in her ears, the crackle of
flame and the discharge of protocols punctuated by the sharp sound of gun
shots. Picking her way carefully through the wreckage of the catwalk and the
fallen roof, Mitsuru reached for the Etheric Network, intending to download a
telepathic protocol and resume communications, perhaps gather whatever of the
students had survived the fall to make an attack on their target.

At first, she mistook
the girl for two girls, thanks to her blurred vision.

“Auditor Aoki,” Leigh
said, crouching atop a mangled girder and smiling with satisfaction. “I am so
pleased to see you again.”

“I can’t say the same,
vampire,” Mitsuru answered, checking for her weapons and relieved to find them
intact. She was less pleased with her other finding – her connection to the
Etheric Network was severed. Mitsuru wondered exactly how bad her head injury
was. “I don’t suppose you would be interested in postponing our encounter? I
have more pressing concerns at the moment.”

Leigh laughed as she leapt
from the girder to the factory floor, landing a few meters away from Mitsuru.

“I’m sure you do.” Leigh
flexed her hands, and her fingers lengthened, morphing into claws. “Too bad I
don’t care. I’ve been hoping for this since the last time we tangled.”

Mitsuru pulled both guns
from her holsters, and activated her ballistics protocol, comforted that at
least the protocols she had already downloaded were still accessible.

“You don’t learn, do
you? This time,” Mitsuru promised, “I will kill you.”

“That’s the spirit,”
Leigh said, dropping into a crouch. “You look a mess already, though. I hope
this won’t be over too quickly.”

Mitsuru responded with
gunfire, both pistols tracking the vampire’s head. Thanks to the painful
clarity imparted by the ballistics protocol, Mitsuru watched a round sever a
strand of Leigh’s long blonde hair as she moved, her body blurring as she
shifted, always managing to be just ahead of where Mitsuru aimed, the bullets
passing through the space she had just absented.

There was no arguing
with the numbers in her HUD. There wasn’t enough space between them, or enough
bullets in her magazines. Mitsuru had only seconds before Leigh was within
striking distance. She cast one of the guns aside, holding on to the one that
had a half-full magazine, and grabbed the long knife at her belt.

Leigh disappeared, and
Mitsuru ducked. Either she guessed poorly or Leigh anticipated her movements,
because the vampire kicked the back of her left leg, hyperextending her knee
and almost sending her to the ground. Mitsuru flexed with the impact, falling
and bending backward, lunging with her knife for the vampire’s chest and
stabbing her between her ribs. Leigh brought her elbow down on Mitsuru’s
forehead, knocking her to the ground.

She twisted, so that her
side hit the floor hard, and her vision doubled again, but Mitsuru kept moving
through the pain and disorientation, dropping her gun and instead grabbing for
the vampire’s leg. She absorbed a kick to the face that snapped her jaw shut
and cost her a front tooth and the tip of her tongue, but Mitsuru spat blood
and focused on her hold, gripping Leigh’s ankle and pulling, forcing her to
shift her balance to avoid falling. Her position was too weak to actually trip
the vampire, but the maneuver bought her a few seconds.

Mitsuru lashed out at
the rear of Leigh’s ankle, slashing through silicon-fiber tendon clear to the
bone. The vampire tumbled over, pummeling Mitsuru in the sternum with her heel
until she was forced to release her hold. The space between them gave her a few
more seconds, and Mitsuru began the process of activating a downloaded
protocol, not sure where she found the strength to operate it twice in the same
day. It would leave her drained to the point of collapse, certainly, but she
could worry about that after she survived long enough to employ it.

Leigh stumbled forward,
moving clumsily as her leg repaired itself, lunging for Mitsuru’s face with
extended claws. Mitsuru crossed her arms in front of her face in time to ward
off the blow, but Leigh’s talons cut her forearms to the bone. Mitsuru cried
out involuntarily at the pain, her knife falling from her hand. The vampire’s
mouth opened in what must have been a cry of rage or victory, but Mitsuru again
could hear nothing aside from the terrible ringing in her ears. She was utterly
focused on the tremendous mental effort required to operate the protocol.

The vampire threw
herself at Mitsuru, and she rolled to avoid her, able to dodge Leigh’s strike
only because her movements were still hampered by her severed tendon. Leigh’s
claws embedded briefly in the concrete of the factory floor. Mitsuru scampered
away, until she felt metal at her back, trapped by the wreckage. Leigh mistook
her concentration for fear, and charged with renewed confidence.

Leigh came at her with
claws extended, and Mitsuru took a chance and kicked between them, planting her
heel into the side of the vampire’s face. The girl’s own momentum contributed
to the force of the blow, knocking her to the side, but she still managed to
lash out at Mitsuru’s leg, tearing gouges in the flesh of her calf, claws
passing through the armor as if it weren’t there. Leigh shook her head and
recovered, again lunging for Mitsuru. She caught one of the vampire’s wrists
coming in, but the other impaled her left shoulder, shredding flesh and
snapping bone. The vampire smiled and sunk her teeth into Mitsuru’s
outstretched arm, fangs driving through her forearm.

Three seconds.

Mitsuru feinted weakly
at the vampire’s chest with her good leg, but the vampire brushed the strike
aside, driving her claws into Mitsuru’s other shoulder. This time there was no
pain, only a faint awareness of the tissue and nerves being severed.

Two seconds.

The vampire reared her
head back briefly, her eyes gleaming savagely.

One.

Leigh bit down on
Mitsuru’s neck, and Mitsuru’s vision blurred in a red haze as she struggled
weakly. When her vision cleared, Leigh was kneeling atop of her, a chunk of the
skin and muscle torn from Mitsuru’s neck dangling from her mouth. The protocol
pressed against the edges of Mitsuru’s mind, driving out room for all other
concerns. Leigh moved in for the kill, while Mitsuru released it into the open
air.

Shining Cloud.

***

The fall passed before his eyes like
a series of still photos arranged in a slideshow: the catwalk tilted at an
impossible angle; Katya reaching for his outstretched hand but falling away
faster than she could move, obvious fear in her eyes; the faint green aura of
Min-jun’s protocol distorting the air around him as he went into freefall, the
odd exhilaration of the fall and the surprising pain of impact. Then for a
brief moment, there was nothing at all.

When he woke, he was
looking up at the sky where the ceiling should have been, Haley’s astral form
hovering over him in obvious concern. Alex shook his head to clear it, which
was a painful mistake, and then sat up, which was an equally bad decision. He
was forced to wait until his back muscles relaxed before he attempted any
further movement.

“Alex?” Haley’s voice
was a ghostly whisper – and it took a moment before his sluggish brain remembered
that it was supposed to be like that. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive,” he
muttered, standing up slowly. “That’ll have to do.”

It was true, if a bit
dramatic. Nothing was broken, and if he was bleeding from anywhere, then he
didn’t notice it in a brief self-inspection. Alex surveyed his surroundings,
noting with worry that he could see a number of partially obscured bodies
beneath the rubble around him, caught beneath the falling catwalk or the more
sizable bulk of the ceiling. None of the bits and pieces he could see looked
familiar, so he took a certain amount of encouragement from that. Their fall
must have ruptured a fuel tank, or something of the sort, because the ruins to
his right were part of a quickly growing fire. Nearby, Min-jun was sprawled out
across an intact meter or so of the catwalk, apparently intact. Alex hurried
over.

“Haley,” Alex said,
crouching beside Min-jun and checking him for injuries. “Do you see Katya or
Mitsuru?”

He didn’t like the way
that Min-jun’s arm was trapped behind him, the angle of his shoulder making him
vaguely queasy, but he appeared to be intact otherwise, though unconscious.
Alex took hold of him by his collar and belt buckle, then slid him across the
catwalk, freeing his obviously broken arm. If Min-jun’s neck wasn’t broken,
then that probably constituted a minor miracle.

“No,” Haley said,
floating up cautiously for a better view. “I don’t see anyone.”

Alex slapped Min-jun
across his face, and shouted his name a couple of times, with no obvious
result.

“What about telepathy?”
Alex asked, glancing over at Haley. “Why can’t I feel you in my head?”

Haley’s form swirled and
flickered.

“I don’t know,” she
admitted, clearly on the point of tears. “It’s all I can do to keep projecting.
There’s some sort of interference isolating us.”

“Great,” Alex said,
pausing to control his breathing. “That’s fucking perfect. Listen, Haley – can
you scout around a little? Maybe figure out where we are?”

“Don’t have to,” Haley
said, pointing over his head. “It’s pretty obvious.”