Chapter 79: Eye of the Fight
The revolutionaries fought harder than ever, their survival chance nil, their deaths preordained. None fell without taking an opponent.
But fall they did. Chaos grew, courage became fear, battle cries became tragic yells.
All that remained was to take as many foes as possible with them.
Kasia struggled against an officer. She was unmasked and startled by roaring guns. Her opponent was berserk.
They slammed her into a window. A web of cracks spread. The window collapsed. Kasia fell through it, grabbing the frame as she swung through the sky and hit the outer wall. The darkened grounds below threatened a brutal end. Her katana waved mid-air in her free hand; Kasia swiped it at the lieutenant but the distance was too great.
The lieutenant stabbed at Kasia's hand.
Someone fired. The opponent toppled over the windowsill to her death. Kasia pulled herself inside and found Luis throwing his rifle away - empty, though Kristoff's fifth bullet had been honoured.
Luis switched to his blade and charged into the melee.
Kasia doubled over and groaned with pain. Her leg could barely move. Her throat and nose stung from vomiting. Her arms throbbed.
She grit her teeth and followed Luis in.
Two men circled each other. The crowds they commanded - Black and Red - parted way.
Varma removed his helmet. His matted hair glistened with sweat. His skin had been darkened by burns and blood.
He snarled.
"We should have fought together doctor! We could have turned the Republic in to something better for all of us! Why can't you see that!?"
Andrez glanced at Varma's sword, then pointed at himself. His mask chattered.
"So close... if only this little guy had stung you'd escape the big push..."
Varma reeled. Skye's voice. An old viral of her flirting with Private Varma before she was slaughtered. Varma had indulged to rewatch it many times - to be haunted by the lilting Bristolian of a woman followed by millions, until death rendered her obsolete.
And tonight, in his final hour, his rival saw fit to mock him with it. All Varma wanted was take his rival with him.
He attacked. They clashed for several bouts, each waiting for a mistake to seize. Andrez wanted to goad the captain but Varma stayed in control. All his focus was on overcoming this singular enemy.
And Andrez was flagging. He felt he was losing. He felt Varma's stance shift as Varma figured it out.
He opened his mask with white light. It glitched. Sparks fountained from where Sermon had struck it.
Andrez was blind. He moved back. Varma closed in.
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A wide slash severed the mask's beak off. Another uppercut it clean off. Andrez stabbed air and found his arm locked.
Varma looked upon the doctor at last. A slim raven, androgyne and frightened. It emasculated him that such a man could have caused so much trouble.
No more. He disarmed Andrez and threw him down. Andrez lifted a leg to kick Varma back and Varma slashed again, cutting Andrez's thigh. Andrez clutched his leg and curled up.
Varma's sabre fell on him. Someone attacked from behind. Their mask screamed in Varma's face but he banged his head against it. The scream deactivated. The terrorist attacked with wild strikes - fast, close, unpredictable.
But not enough to beat Varma. As if bored he dropped and circled back, sweeping his leg around. The attacker tripped. Varma leapt away.
He saw a pistol rest in the fingers of a fallen marine.
The attacker ran at him. No time to check. Varma prised it free. In the terrorist's gaping eyes he saw himself raise the gun. In the terrorist's gait - in their faltering run - he knew he had them.
Varma pulled the trigger.
The shot flashed in the terrorist's bruised eye.
Their knives dropped. Their body stiffened and collapsed beside Andrez.
Andrez watched his closest companion's head slacken. Her masked head drooped to face him. Her fingers twitched once and relaxed open.
All else became a distant irrelevance.
Esmé was dead.
* * *
An unrecognisable mound slumped on the floor. A detective, motionless save for her rattling breath.
Vagrants surrounded her. They hesitated to get close. Two of their own were dead, another six badly injured.
A man with spiky blonde hair and frantic eyes cursed them. His arm had been broken. All between his legs was aching and swollen.
"You fuckin' pussies what you holdin' back for!? Worried you can't manage her like this!?"
He spat on the downed woman. But his followers shrunk away. Some were on their phones, gawping at a trending news story.
Their leader swore. He pulled an iron pipe from a vagrant and went for the kill.
"Stop!"
Eva ran out and placed herself between him and Gemma. A taser shook in her hand. A soft moan escaped Gemma's mouth - a desperate sound - but Gemma was too injured to save the girl.
The leader shifted towards her. His followers joined. Eva's taser flit between them.
"You can't kill her! I'm beggin' ya!"
"Why the fuck would you help a policewoman little girl? Do you know how corrupt these cunts are? What they do to people like us!?"
"I know! They're pricks!" Eva stepped back before he could swipe her gun, "but this one's legit. She's all I got left my mum died for the revolution! Please, she's all I got left!"
Eva burst into tears. She lowered her arms and stomped the ground.
The vagrants were restless. Some were leaving.
One of them approached their leader, phone in hand.
"Mate..."
He brushed her off. The other vagrants were leering at the crying teenager. She looked pretty, and profitable. The leader snorted.
"Cute little thing ain't ya? What a price you'd fetch, assumin' I wouldn't keep you for myself..." he looked Eva up and down; chewed his lip as he thought to himself.
He cocked his head sideways.
"Fuck off look. Follow one of the women outside and stick with her. And if I were you girl, I'd be careful fightin' back against men you don't know. Society ain't designed for girls like you to win. Not with your snizz intact anyway."
The vagrant behind him tugged his shoulder. He sneered.
"What."
"We gotta go. The Red's fuckin' lost. They're on the run. Guvs are headin' back."
"They lost?" at once the leader sighed and laughed, "can anyone this country get a fuckin' thing right? How did they lose!?
Jesus let's get out of ere', but I'm takin' 'detective' off my bingo chart."
The vagrants made their escape. Their leader pressed towards Gemma. Eva held her hands up. Her legs shuddered.
"Please don't-"
"Out the way little girl!"
He backhanded her. Eva flew aside screeching. He smirked and rolled the detective over.
The taser stuck into his jugular. It's cartridge whined shrill enough to hurt his ears - maximum voltage. Gemma's eyes said 'I've got you'.
She fired.