They retraced their steps, going back the way they had come with Amy in the lead. They had to go even slower this time. They were accompanied by wounded, the elderly and small children, and their greater numbers meant they had to be far more careful about noise. Still, nobody jumped out of the shadows at them as they made their way back towards the access point in the square. All was quiet, which Amy hoped meant good news, that Austin's forces had been largely broken up and pushed back by the Wilkes-Vines mercenaries. Still, something about the atmosphere made her clench her teeth.
"We're almost there." Amy whispered as they took the last few turns. "All of you stay down here until Jake and I sound the all clear. Whiskey, you'll be their rear guard until it's safe to move o-"
Amy's words died in her throat as she rounded the last corner. Only just visible in the near darkness, a dozen men waited between them and the access ladder, spread out with their weapons pointed down-range. It was am ambush. They must have found the bodies back on the street, spotted the open man-hole, and put two and two together.
If Amy had allowed shock to petrify her for just a second, they would have filled her full of holes. As it was, she was already on the move as twelve fingers tightened around twelve triggers. Her arm went out to halt the person following immediately after her, and bodily threw the both of them back behind cover. A fraction of a moment later the corner of the brick wall the had fled behind exploded into dust.
The sound of so much gunfire reverberating in such a claustrophobic space was excruciating. It felt like every bone in Amy's skeleton was humming like a tuning fork, turning her insides to jelly. Between all the dust, and the darkness juxtaposed with the rapid strobing of the muzzle flashes reflecting of slick, wet walls, she could barely see. Utterly pinned down, the most Amy could accomplish was to poke half her head out for just a split second, before retreating with a curse as more of the wall she hid behind was blasted apart. From what little she could make out in such short a time, it would seem that the enemy was advancing on them. Slowly, carefully, one move at a time, they were getting closer. A part of her brain that mercifully remained analytical in the face of such chaos, realised that these men had likely been driven underground by the Maiden's own forces in the city. They weren't actually advancing, they were themselves retreating from a larger foe, and Amy and the refugees were standing in the way of their salvation. They were desperate, and they'd got the jump on her. Amy was helpless.
'No. Never helpless. This is not the darkest place you've had to claw your way out of.'
"Why won't you people just LEAVE US ALONE!" came a yell to her left. Rob, whether out of bravado or blind hope, abandoned his composure, and leaped out of cover to fire at their attackers. He stayed alive long enough to fire two shots from his pistol, before a hail of assault rifle fire peppered his torso. His blood was warm as it spattered Amy face, and he fell right next to her. His death prompted two more. A young woman cradling a toddler to her chest wailed in panicked anguish, and bolted, perhaps hoping to make it to the other side of the intersection and disappear once more into the labyrinth of black tunnels. Amy wanted to stop her, but she was too slow. The woman had almost made it to the other side before they shot her in the back, the high calibre rounds tearing through both bodies. Still embracing each-other, the mother and child teetered, and fell silently into the black water.
It would seem that Austin's family were no longer concerned with their 'rescue' operation. Children were fair game, when they stood in the way.
Something came over Amy in that moment, as she watched them topple in slow motion. It wasn't rage, or at least, it wasn't Pixie's red hot blood lust. A force seized her heart, a force darker than black, and colder than death. It was the same thing that had coiled around her when she had served her laced concoction to her childhood tormentors, and then cut their throats down to the bone as they lay slumped in their stupor, all in silence, without a single vengeful curse or twinge of satisfaction. The Thing had her now, and her heart was only beating because it made it so, making her body dance to its own rhythm.
"Stay here." she told the others, her voice powerful despite the volume barely carrying over the sound of the gunfire. "Nobody else move."
Beneath the gunshots and their ricochets, her footsteps made no sound as she slipped away from the wall. Kneeling by the edge of the filthy, ice-cold water, she slipped down into it. First one leg, then the other, barely making a splash. Amy breathed in, slowly, but deeply, before she submerged herself fully beneath the stagnant river. Then, she began to swim, her strokes slow and broad, taking care to not let any part of her body break the surface of the water.
Above her, the drained and desperate forces of Father Austin continued their advance, taking no notice of the water. All their attention was focussed on moving forward. They'd already resolved not to look back, or in any other direction for that matter. It wasn't until one of the children at the rear of the group heard the tell-tale sound of a metal spring releasing, that he turned, to see a small, cylindrical shape arcing through the air toward the group from their rear... and a hand, disappearing beneath the surface of the pool once more.
"WATCH OUT!" he cried, but too late. The stun grenade was still in the air, in the middle of all of them, when it detonated, all he achieved was to get everyone to look around as it went off. Both the flash and the bang rebounded off the curving brick walls of the sewer, amplifying the effect ten-fold. The whole dozen of them had been reduced to staggering sacks of meat, when Amy burst back up in a shower of water and scum. Her machine gun in her right hand, her pistol in her left, soaked to the bone with her hair slick, and matted with filth. Silently, coldly, she started gunning them down one by one. Right. Left. Right. Left. She was mechanical in her slaughter. The children started firing in every direction, even hitting each-other in their disorientation. When her guns emptied, almost simultaneously, Amy tossed them both aside, and draw her knives straight away. Three left, she bounded out of the water with her face as blank as a wall of stone. Those who remained were starting to recover, but she got to them first. One got his throat slashed, front on, with the small knife, and fell immediately. The second rushed forward, trying to club the figure out of the darkness with the butt of his empty rifle, but paused mid stroke, already dead, held up only by the shock, and the larger knife that was now lodged underneath his chin, pointing upwards through the roof of his mouth and into his brain. The third had just enough time to wheel around, spraying fire wildly from the hip as his first comrade fell, the knife that had killed him now tumbling through the air, to bury itself in his heart.
When the last of Austin's soldiers had fallen, Amy did not even stop to admire her handiwork, as she set about retrieving her weapons. It was only, when the others came out, looking at her with mingled awe and revulsion, that she felt the pain. Her left leg buckled beneath her, and she fell to her knees. The sharpness of it, the heat, seemed to make her herself again, and she stared in shock at all the new-made corpses.
'Five days ago I could barely hit a paper target 20 yards away. How... what did I just do?!
Clutching the side of her leg, where the deep gash flared again, Amy drew her hand away to see her blood mingling with sewage... and saw no distinction.
"We're almost there." Amy whispered as they took the last few turns. "All of you stay down here until Jake and I sound the all clear. Whiskey, you'll be their rear guard until it's safe to move o-"
Amy's words died in her throat as she rounded the last corner. Only just visible in the near darkness, a dozen men waited between them and the access ladder, spread out with their weapons pointed down-range. It was am ambush. They must have found the bodies back on the street, spotted the open man-hole, and put two and two together.
If Amy had allowed shock to petrify her for just a second, they would have filled her full of holes. As it was, she was already on the move as twelve fingers tightened around twelve triggers. Her arm went out to halt the person following immediately after her, and bodily threw the both of them back behind cover. A fraction of a moment later the corner of the brick wall the had fled behind exploded into dust.
The sound of so much gunfire reverberating in such a claustrophobic space was excruciating. It felt like every bone in Amy's skeleton was humming like a tuning fork, turning her insides to jelly. Between all the dust, and the darkness juxtaposed with the rapid strobing of the muzzle flashes reflecting of slick, wet walls, she could barely see. Utterly pinned down, the most Amy could accomplish was to poke half her head out for just a split second, before retreating with a curse as more of the wall she hid behind was blasted apart. From what little she could make out in such short a time, it would seem that the enemy was advancing on them. Slowly, carefully, one move at a time, they were getting closer. A part of her brain that mercifully remained analytical in the face of such chaos, realised that these men had likely been driven underground by the Maiden's own forces in the city. They weren't actually advancing, they were themselves retreating from a larger foe, and Amy and the refugees were standing in the way of their salvation. They were desperate, and they'd got the jump on her. Amy was helpless.
'No. Never helpless. This is not the darkest place you've had to claw your way out of.'
"Why won't you people just LEAVE US ALONE!" came a yell to her left. Rob, whether out of bravado or blind hope, abandoned his composure, and leaped out of cover to fire at their attackers. He stayed alive long enough to fire two shots from his pistol, before a hail of assault rifle fire peppered his torso. His blood was warm as it spattered Amy face, and he fell right next to her. His death prompted two more. A young woman cradling a toddler to her chest wailed in panicked anguish, and bolted, perhaps hoping to make it to the other side of the intersection and disappear once more into the labyrinth of black tunnels. Amy wanted to stop her, but she was too slow. The woman had almost made it to the other side before they shot her in the back, the high calibre rounds tearing through both bodies. Still embracing each-other, the mother and child teetered, and fell silently into the black water.
It would seem that Austin's family were no longer concerned with their 'rescue' operation. Children were fair game, when they stood in the way.
Something came over Amy in that moment, as she watched them topple in slow motion. It wasn't rage, or at least, it wasn't Pixie's red hot blood lust. A force seized her heart, a force darker than black, and colder than death. It was the same thing that had coiled around her when she had served her laced concoction to her childhood tormentors, and then cut their throats down to the bone as they lay slumped in their stupor, all in silence, without a single vengeful curse or twinge of satisfaction. The Thing had her now, and her heart was only beating because it made it so, making her body dance to its own rhythm.
"Stay here." she told the others, her voice powerful despite the volume barely carrying over the sound of the gunfire. "Nobody else move."
Beneath the gunshots and their ricochets, her footsteps made no sound as she slipped away from the wall. Kneeling by the edge of the filthy, ice-cold water, she slipped down into it. First one leg, then the other, barely making a splash. Amy breathed in, slowly, but deeply, before she submerged herself fully beneath the stagnant river. Then, she began to swim, her strokes slow and broad, taking care to not let any part of her body break the surface of the water.
Above her, the drained and desperate forces of Father Austin continued their advance, taking no notice of the water. All their attention was focussed on moving forward. They'd already resolved not to look back, or in any other direction for that matter. It wasn't until one of the children at the rear of the group heard the tell-tale sound of a metal spring releasing, that he turned, to see a small, cylindrical shape arcing through the air toward the group from their rear... and a hand, disappearing beneath the surface of the pool once more.
"WATCH OUT!" he cried, but too late. The stun grenade was still in the air, in the middle of all of them, when it detonated, all he achieved was to get everyone to look around as it went off. Both the flash and the bang rebounded off the curving brick walls of the sewer, amplifying the effect ten-fold. The whole dozen of them had been reduced to staggering sacks of meat, when Amy burst back up in a shower of water and scum. Her machine gun in her right hand, her pistol in her left, soaked to the bone with her hair slick, and matted with filth. Silently, coldly, she started gunning them down one by one. Right. Left. Right. Left. She was mechanical in her slaughter. The children started firing in every direction, even hitting each-other in their disorientation. When her guns emptied, almost simultaneously, Amy tossed them both aside, and draw her knives straight away. Three left, she bounded out of the water with her face as blank as a wall of stone. Those who remained were starting to recover, but she got to them first. One got his throat slashed, front on, with the small knife, and fell immediately. The second rushed forward, trying to club the figure out of the darkness with the butt of his empty rifle, but paused mid stroke, already dead, held up only by the shock, and the larger knife that was now lodged underneath his chin, pointing upwards through the roof of his mouth and into his brain. The third had just enough time to wheel around, spraying fire wildly from the hip as his first comrade fell, the knife that had killed him now tumbling through the air, to bury itself in his heart.
When the last of Austin's soldiers had fallen, Amy did not even stop to admire her handiwork, as she set about retrieving her weapons. It was only, when the others came out, looking at her with mingled awe and revulsion, that she felt the pain. Her left leg buckled beneath her, and she fell to her knees. The sharpness of it, the heat, seemed to make her herself again, and she stared in shock at all the new-made corpses.
'Five days ago I could barely hit a paper target 20 yards away. How... what did I just do?!
Clutching the side of her leg, where the deep gash flared again, Amy drew her hand away to see her blood mingling with sewage... and saw no distinction.
