The Law and the Codas

Chapter Nineteen

Della tosses the boomstick through the grate. The ring of green around her irises thickens. "Activate," she says. There's a boom and then an enormous smoke cloud blows explodes skyward.

"Move!"

Placing her gun in her teeth, she puts two hands on either side of the hole and pulls herself up. She disappears, a few gunshots ring out. There's a scream and then Della's arm reemerges covered in dirt. She helps the Codas one by one through the opening. Her arm momentarily disappearing, as more shots ring out only to be answered by more screams.

Once all the Codas have been helped up, it's my turn. I raise my arm, only to have two hands, large and tan, latch on and pull me up. I'm thrown onto the asphalt, and barely have time to glimpse the person who'd helped me. Black hair, thick brows, sloping forehead, wide nose. Jensen. No Della to be seen. He kicks me in the thigh as he ducks down and, lying on his belly, proceeds to shove his arms back down below. A stream of blood flows toward me. "Get going!" he says. Something buzzes past my ears. I slam onto the ground and cover my neck. "El Accosta reinforcements showed up. Take cover!"

"Where's Della?" There's another piercing screech that slices through the air and then the ping-ping-ping of return shots. Through the cloud of smoke, shadowy figures lunge for cover behind trash cans and brick walls.

"Commander took the lead," Sam's head pops through the hole. "Get a fucking move on!" Sam's thrown to the side. He takes a moment to collect himself, before flattening himself against the pavement. His eyes bulge as he spots the blood. I give him a nod and then begin to run, without bothering to look back.

I can barely see my own hands in front of me as I meander down the road, fumbling over crumbled stone and along the sides of buildings. Gunshots ring out, alongside metallic clangs. Small explosions of concrete burst on either side of me, coating my shirt until barely any of its true color remains. More shadows skirt past me like scared beetles on the search for higher ground. I point my gun at each of them in case-- My fingers tremble. The gun shakes. In case what? They were the enemy? And then what? Could I really?

A faint glimmer of green causes me to pause. Entrenched behind a dumpster riddled with bullet holes, and shooting at an unseen target up ahead, is Della, her eyes engorged with rage. Her clothes are covered in grime, blood, and sweat. I make to raise the gun, wave it at her, catch her gaze, but a force slams my arm back to my side before it's above my head.

I throw my gaze up, only to see Keran glowering down at me. Smears of blood dot her cheeks and chin. "You wanna make yourself a target and die? Do it on your own time."

"The Commander will be fine, no need to die on her behalf." She breathes in stilted, shallow gulps. Sweat runs off her like torrential downpours. "The others are safe, too."

At having all thought swept from my brain, I do the only thing I think to do - I blink, dumbly, mouth open, like a vapid, empty flesh sack.

Keran frowns but keeps her gaze hinged on our surroundings. Her brain's firing on all cylinders as she scans darkened, abandoned alleyways, askew doors, garbage chutes, and the overhead Tram. The enemy could be hiding in any one of those places, devising a plan to rout us, kill us all, but Keran's thought carefully about this, and about ways to keep us alive.

"Your group is still alive," she says hurriedly.

The two fire off a few more shots before sprinting from their hiding places as quickly as the wind. My eyes barely manage to keep up with them before they disappear into the smoke. Screams come from the other side of the smoke, but they're drowned out by the sirens blaring in the distance. Sector police were finally on their way. Above me, I hear whirring as the blades of a sector police drone slice through the air. The sleek, gunmetal grey body dips between buildings, its bulbous front spotlight dragging along the ground. I gulp, place the gun into the waistband of my pants, and flatten myself against the brick wall.