Chapter 40

Rob's voice was cryptic.

"See the drain gulch behind my left shoulder?"

I was thrown off as his head gave a subtle twitch and gesture eastward. The angle cut it to somewhere behind his back, toward the shoreline. It was a direction almost, but not quite entirely opposite of where Sam and I had been the entire time.

I blinked in confusion.

McCreed didn't give obvious reactions as he turned to stare off and into the distance. "I see no one," he said flatly.

Sam's laughter, sharp, sudden, and far too loud for the enclosed room, caused me to flinch as the sound ricocheted off the walls like a stray bullet squarely in my ear. Her head dipped as she was overcome by a sudden fit of surprisingly girlish giggles as a delicately curled finger swept the corner of her eye.

"Rob, you sly bastard!" she said when she could finally speak. "You actually had me fooled for a second!"

My head spun. "What is happening right now?"

She turned to me; the remnant of her smile lingered in her eyes. She let out a single huff, partially in relief and partially to recalibrate to the seriousness of the situation.

"Everything he just said to McCreed?" she said. "Totally fabricated."

I narrowed my eyes and scanned her face. "How do you know that?"

Her eyes snapped onto me, a brief flicker of annoyance, as if I'd missed something obvious.

But I stood my ground. Trust wasn't something I was ready to instantly jump into again. The last few hits were...too fast, too close.

Her irritation faded, replaced with comprehension. Rob's possible betrayal had shaken me, probably more deeply than I'd realized. She'd recognized that, so didn't push as hard as she likely would've.

"Owen." She said quietly, "Let's look at the context. Rob and I have been running together for a while. I can tell you, for a fact, one of the dumbest things we ever tried was pretending to be IIB agents on a sting. At best, it's a stall tactic. The cover crumbles the moment someone does something as simple as a cross-check of names. IIB is pretty secretive, and that's kind of why it works."

She straightened, arms folded across her chest. Her tone sharpened with a fierce, convictive protectiveness. "With Rob's history, it's very...VERY unlikely they'd ever recruit him for an IIB operation; that alone should add weight to it all being a bluff. But," She glanced back at the screen. "McCreed doesn't know that."

On the feeds, the underground became a flurry of movement and activity. Goons dressed in security uniforms ran within tunnels to pick their way toward stairwells scattered around the facility. I wasn't sure how it all laid out, but the outer feeds displayed their shadowed figures as they quietly made their way toward the hillside nearest the drain gulch.

Had McCreed relayed the information, or was it just someone who paid attention like we were?

I wasn't sure, but the teams in view had reacted VERY quickly. That made them dangerous.

"There, see?" Sam said. Rob's maneuvers made it so McCreed faced away from the Lock side. "As far as we all know, nobody on McCreed's short list has any direct ties to IIB; he's too greedy and itching at the chance to get his hands around some Black-Level Tech."

"Black-Level?" I asked, "You mean like your transposal suite?"

"Among others," she said with a tilt of her head, "and Rob's banking on it. He knows McCreed is aware IIB agents have a bypass to keep unlicensed mods running even with lockouts. I'd bet chits over scrit; it's why he kept his eyes normal. Anyway, the point is, he could've given us up but instead led most of the goon force away. That should be proof in itself."

Logical. I had to admit.

My thoughts drifted to the unlicensed status of Rob's Amplified Physique Mods. Clearly there was more going on than I was aware, but all that mattered in the moment was Rob hadn't betrayed us.

I cast a glance to where McCreed and Rob stood silently. McCreed's voice flowed steadily, a continuation of a conversation I'd mostly missed. "And what would you expect me to give in return?" he said.

"Nothing." Rob replied. "Those two will be a freebie, provided you can get them off my tail. I'm tired of the constant need to dodge them. They've raised uncomfortable questions from upstairs."

"The storm is...convenient, then." McCreed said in a murmur. Thunder rumbled above as Rob gave him a dry, humorless smile.

I shivered at a sudden chill down my spine.

How many people have disappeared while we were all "directed" not to realize it?

The memory of my mother's death notice surfaced and stopped me cold.

Wait. Hold on...

Suddenly, every monitor lit up with a new icon in the top right corner. An alert notification scrolled across the upper section of my optic feed in a harsh red.

[WARNING: PURGE OPERATIONS IMMINENT. THRESHOLD LIMIT EXCEEDED!]

"Uh..." I said, and relayed the message aloud to Sam. "Should we be worried about that?"

Sam dragged her hands in frustration down her face and swore softly.

"Okay. Fine. Great. Sure..." she said at last, though her expression made me think she wanted to kick the cabinet again. "It will be if we don't get to the other side in time. Is there any way to check how long we've got until the Purge kicks in?"

"One sec," I replied, and I scrolled through menus. "Ah, here we go. The overflow log has analytical data." I leaned in to study the screen. "Historically? There's a specific level set to when it'll open each gate."

"Can you explain that back to me in Sam speak? The one that doesn't care about whatever it is you just said?"

"Right, sorry," I said and did some quick math. "If I had to guess, we've got about thirty minutes before the first of the gates opens. That's just an estimate based off what I've seen so far." I gestured vaguely at the display, and she gave a nod.

"What can you do to make it happen sooner?"

I turned to her, startled. "What?!"

She gestured toward the figures as they slowly moved along the fence line.

"Rob's plan already strung the Goon squad out over there. He told me to move us into this room, probably thinking it was a safe fallback. But I doubt he expected McCreed to show up. If we want to have any chance in hell of getting out of here, Rob needs a distraction. Something loud. Something messy." She looked back over to me, eyes sharp. "What matters is we need to go. Now. Before we lose the advantage of initiative."

I hesitated; the weight of her words sank in. The monitors and my optical feed still glowed with alerts as a countdown ticked invisibly in the background.

"Figure it out," she said, already halfway to the door. "Set it to fifteen minutes. That'll give us just enough time to reposition and maybe get Rob to the Lock Gate if we're lucky. Stay low and meet me outside when you're finished."

I disconnected and swiveled my rounded eyes toward her. "Wait, what?!"

The door opened, and I was blasted with moist air as she paused in the threshold. "Figure it out, Owen! Fifteen. Meet me outside. Move!"

Then she was gone. I was left alone with the hum of the systems and the sudden pressure of an unexpectedly assigned critical task.

"Whoa," I breathed, "whoa...whoawhoawhoawhoa..."

I spun in place to scan the room for an answer. Panic built as I was suddenly uncertain of what to do next. My gaze landed upon Rob, still locked in a tense exchange with McCreed within the monitor bank. I took a sharp breath before I released it in a sudden rush to steady myself.

"Okay." I said, and jabbed my finger onto the contact dimple to resume control. A quick dive into the controls excavated the source of the purge protocol routines. It was time to figure out something fast, messy, and potentially revolting.

For me, anyway.

I got to work. I was in the middle of a test sequence when the background chatter recaptured my attention. McCreed's voice drifted through the room.

"So comes my next question, if you don't mind, Mr. Franklin."

"Go ahead," Rob replied. His voice was calm but short. My test script continued to grind through a list of attempts, each one closer and closer to the correct sequence.

"What became of our young Mr. Price?"

Another fail.

There was a momentary pause. A skipped beat as Rob held for a moment as if confused by the question. "Pardon?"

"The last location put him somewhere around M Block, and likewise I've had multiple reports they'd seen you and Mr. Price, together, in Block N. So..." McCreed said as he glared at Rob. "Where is he?"

The next sequence came up with a different sort of failure, but still a failure.

Almost there.

"You shouldn't worry about him." Rob bluntly said. "He was an idiot."

I winced. Another fail.

McCreed grimaced distastefully. "Oh, of that I was certain." He said, and I felt a flash of irritation. "But, if we are to continue our arrangement. I must know. There are holes in your story. I seek clarity, and I need to ensure you really are who I think I'm working with."

Fail.

Fail.

Fail.

I tapped a nail on the work surface nervously; come on... Come on...

Rob's voice was firm. Unmoving. "I'm telling you, don't worry. He isn't your problem anymore."

He looked off toward the Canal, beyond McCreed's back. A smirk tugged at his lips. "In fact, I'd wager he's somewhere nearby...if you catch my meaning."

McCreed's eyes flashed as he caught the implication. A slow, cruel smile crossed his lips as he sensed the truth behind Rob's words.

"Excellent," he said, "though I do have a particular item to retrieve from his...possession."

Fail.

Fail.

Rob raised his hand. "You mean this?"

I watched as McCreed's smile shattered like brittle glass. Rob held up a holocard between two pinched fingers. The lettering was etched into the face, laser-cut instead of holofilm projected. It was McCreed's "introduction." The one he'd forced on me after the seizure had finalized.

McCreed kept his jaw firmly clenched as Rob casually slipped the card back into his pocket and gave it a smug little pat.

"Don't worry about this little piece, okay? I'll hold onto it and keep it safe for you," he said with mock reassurance, "You know...as collateral."

Fail.

Fail.

Initializing...

I checked my own pocket, the one where I'd last put the card back at Rob's pod. Instead my fingers brushed against a triangular pendant on a chain. I could've sworn it'd been in another pocket, but without a thought, I looped the chain around my neck to free my hands and dug deeper.

Nothing. The pocket was empty.

You clever old fox. Somewhere between his Pod and here, he'd lifted the card cleanly from my possession. I still reeled from the realization when my heads-up display blinked again, a sharp pulse in the corner of my vision.

The sequence had matched. Success!

Finally!

With the proper sequence, I initiated the timer. In hindsight, it was disturbingly easy. Even with the delay.

"Ah! Golrich!"

I jumped as McCreed's voice barked out like a gunshot. "How convenient you're here! I believe you know Mr. Franklin here?"

My heart hammered against my ribs, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. This wasn't good. While Golrich didn't show any signs of recognizing Rob as he nodded politely, Rob was stone still. "Excuse us." McCreed said with a pearly smile that didn't reach his eyes. My stomach sank. Rob's reaction to Golrich back at the pod suddenly felt more significant. A new complication.

Golrich shifted his stance to angle his body toward McCreed exclusively. The two whispered low enough that the audio pickups struggled to catch more than fragments of the discussion. I adjusted the timer and trimmed it down as a cold realization hit: I needed to warn Sam. We were going to have to move faster than planned. That meant we'd need to improvise the rest. I winced as I hit the activation key and set off toward the door. The shortened timer would be like a stick of dynamite with a torn fuse already lit; I had to reach her. And fast.

I keyed open the door and looked out. The immediate area around me appeared deserted, so I bolted. The air was thick with moisture and tension. I had a sense of panic until I spotted Sam, crouched low behind a tangle of catwalks. Her silhouette was barely visible in the rain some distance off, but close enough for me to run toward.

I dropped into a half-run, half-stoop to race through a few areas that looked like connected trench runs. The layout here was as strange as it had looked from above, only three times more cluttered. Sections of the subfloor dipped into the walkway channels that led to structural supports and doorways. Utility runs for feedlines, power, and data went everywhere. It was haphazard but organized in a chaotic and purpose-built way that let me move swiftly toward her.

Her expression was carved in granite, grim and tense as I approached. Rob and McCreed stood at a distance; we were too far for me to catch their words but close enough for Sam to see everything.

“Sam!” I hissed to get her attention.

"I know," she replied, eyes still locked on the scene in the distance. “I’ve been transposing. I don’t know who the rat-faced stooge, Golrich, is, but Rob clearly hates him."

"That's an understatement," I said. McCreed and Golrich were to one side, but Rob stood behind them. His attention was locked in. Too focused. Too obvious.

Crap.

"Rob, what are you doing?" Sam muttered. "You're better than this."

"Has Rob been that locked in on Golrich like that this entire time?" I was a touch unnerved by Sam's concern. Rob was usually the calm one. The organized one. Except...

"Rat-faced? Yeah. It hasn't been good." Sam replied.

McCreed looked his usual smarmy self. While Golrich only had eyes for him, his back was to Rob as they spoke. I felt the tingle on the back of my neck and spotted McCreed's eyes as they flashed in Golrich's direction. Time seemed to slow as McCreed leaned forward, his stare transfixed on Rob as he slowly spoke, a malicious glint against pearly white teeth.

Rob suddenly stood as if shocked. If looks could kill? Golrich would've been paste; there was murder in Rob's eyes as Golrich said something, blank-faced and oblivious to the world around him.

"Sam, what did Golrich just say?"

McCreed still had eyes only for Rob, but Rob was struggling now. He was beyond angry; I could tell by the crush of his brow as he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

Sam's voice was confused, "Botched jobs? Someone or something named Brand, Parker, and, uh...Aggie?"

Oh no.

"Sam, whatever your plan was? Do it. Do it now!" I cursed as my rifle clanged. The sling tangled as I fumbled it into the walkway in front of me.

"What are you doing?!" Sam hissed as she turned to look at me.

I gasped as a familiar alert blinked across my vision in a hazard orange.

[WARNING]

[APM: Class Fifteen] IDENTIFIED! [Effects: High Strength, Tissue Constriction, Mass Expansion, Durability Enhancement] [STATUS: UNLICENSED]

[WARNING]

Beside me, I heard Sam gasp along with me.

"No..." she said. Her voice was a low plea as her face drained of color. "No, Rob. No no no no no no..."

Without another word, she dashed into motion and sped off.

"SAM!" I hissed as loudly as I dared, but she was already gone.

Oddly. My panic went with her as a strange sense of calm came over me. A flash decision. My feet moved as if on their own accord as I funneled my shock into a desperate push to follow her as quickly and as quietly as I could.

I didn't want to be left behind. Not this time.

The unfamiliar weight of the rifle was clutched in my frozen hands. The air stung my lungs, and I felt my boots pound the plastcrete ground beneath me. The distance between us closed. Sam had already propped herself to adjust her rifle's sight in a crouched firing position against another walkway.

With the sound of a scraped boot sole, I clattered to a spot nearby with the intent to not get in her way. Now wasn't the time to complain or balk. I made sure not to obstruct my view of where she was and struggled to untangle my rifle. It was a time for action.

Beyond, Rob had fully taken the bait; McCreed’s smirk said it all.

McCreed had seen. Seen the way Rob reacted to Golrich, he pushed just hard enough to trigger an explosion.

Whatever Golrich's last compelled words were, Rob’s restraint had shattered in an instant. It was the final straw to tip a proverbial scale in his head that had been teeter-tottering this entire time. His APMs had flared to life as his body grew and expanded.

Though I had no gauges or data to scale things, the comparison between the two figures beside him made it clear Rob was just as large as he had been in his Pod. He took several steps forward and placed both hands on Golrich’s shoulders, much too quickly for Golrich to react, even if he could've.

Golrich seemed to snap out of whatever daze he had been in, and the shock was clear on his face. First from the unexpected physical contact, then at the size and bulk of Rob's new form as he was bodily picked up and lifted into the air.

The stairwell erupted as guards poured out in a frenzy, their weapons drawn and their eyes wide at the gargantuan monster that held their...well, whatever Golrich was to them. It wasn't important right now. What was important? Golrich's face was red as he sputtered. None of the guards dared take a shot as his eyes bugged out, wide and bloodshot. His mouth opened and closed uselessly. It reminded me of a glassy-eyed fish out of water as it struggled to breathe.

"P...pl...le…ase..." I assumed he managed to squeak out by the shape of his lips, but Rob's face had turned to stone. He didn't care.

Rob replied, voice soft at first as he held the rat-faced man aloft, like a doll in a giant's fist, but ended in a near shout straight into his face. Loud enough for even me to hear.

"After EVERYTHING YOU’VE DONE?!"

Golrich's eyes bugged out even more as Rob's palms compressed toward Golrich's neck. His feet dangled like an abandoned puppet as he kicked in futile desperation.

"This," Rob said, voice glacial, sharp, and chilled as a winter's edge. Clear as a funeral bell on a foggy morning. "is for Aggie.”

And then...pure horror.

Rob repositioned his hands and tore Golrich’s head clean off.

Not twisted. Not cut or severed by a weapon, tool, or blade. Tore. Cleanly. As easy as plucking a flower from a bed of clovers.

I should’ve been nauseated, but the shock had numbed everything. The motion was so swift, so surreal, it barely registered before he then brought his hands together and crushed the severed head into pulp.

Rob's face was set in a rictus of fierce rage I'd never witnessed firsthand, made even more terrifying as the flash of alert klaxons sounded across the yard and lit the area in yellow and orange strobes.

An automated voice boomed out across the region:

"WARNING: LOCK PURGE PROTOCOL INITIATED. STAND CLEAR. LOCK PURGE PROTOCOL INITIATED. STAND CLEAR. ALERT! ALERT!"

There was a large rumble as the first of the gates yawed open to the tone of a sudden, cascading torrent. A waterfall split forth from the brink of oblivion.

McCreed’s voice, clear and true, managed to cut through the chaos: “STOP HIM!”

That was when all hell broke loose.