Luxurious Anarchy (Lux/Jinx)

Chapter 20: Burn It All Down

But the most disquieting fact of all, was there was no unrest facing them. No dockside or foundry laborers trying to get back across the river, no mother with bawling babes, no cheeky salesperson with a hand cart. No protestors, no rioters, no calm and orderly listing of grievances.

That last one never happened, and Caitlyn had to shake her head to dispel the flight of fancy before it got started. Something else about the scene in front of her nagged at her mind, but she'd been on combat footing for the last twelve hours, and she felt every minute of it.

"Something is fucking wrong here," Abigail muttered, provoking grunts of agreement from Cameron and Lailha. Caitlyn nodded, and flashed a number of hand signs to her three squadmates, urging them to hang back.

The last few soldiers of First Company raced ahead, fatigue and fears left behind at the sight of allies and safety behind, and Caitlyn started forward to stop them, only to find herself held fast by a slim, pale hand.

Lailha's grip was deceptively strong for her lanky frame, and it didn't relax an iota as the undercity legend sidled up to Caitlyn. "Boss, get into cover with the others. I'll catch up with the dummies and see what's up, I still got me badge on."

Caitlyn flicked her eyes between Lailha's hand and her face, and the Special Enforcer let go after a moment.

"Just makin' sure Vi doesn't have good cause to try and kill me boss, thas all, I did promise to keep ya safe," she mumbled around yet another cigarette.

Shaking her head, Caitlyn started to move forward, precisely when the shooting started. Thirty rifles snapped off a single shot each, and the last of First Company was gunned down like dogs.

Dropping low, Caitlyn scrambled for cover as Hextech-powered spotlights swept across the avenue, searching for stragglers, for survivors. Abigail and Cameron were tucked in two separate door frames, and Lailha was nowhere to be seen.

Crouched behind a half-dead potted shrub someone had clearly taken great effort to keep watered, Caitlyn watched ten of the Home Guard soldiers march forward, five with their rifles up, five slinging their weapons to seize ankles and wrists. With dispassionate efficiency, the bodies were shoved over the side of the bridge, doomed to float out to sea. Each guard moved with surety, each motion exacting and precise, and it tickled something in the back of Caitlyn's mind. Quickly, she brought her rifle up to look down the scope, and nearly bit through the side of her cheek trying not to swear. Setting the weapon aside, she murmured as loudly as she dared, "Those Home Guard aren't wearing respirators, that's their damn faces! They are all from Clan Bolbok!"

Abigail, the closest to Caitlyn, looked at the scene with wide eyes, and sputtered, "So Clan Bolbok has at least some of the Home Guard it their pocket, fine, but why did they fucking kill the last of First Company?"

"No idea," Caitlyn hissed, even as fresh theories floated in her mind's eye. Another searchlight lazily swung over their position, forcing her to drop to the ground again. Not daring to move, barely daring to breathe, Caitlyn listened intently for the sound of approaching boots, or the click of a repeater chambering a round. Anything to signal it was time to run.

The skittering of a pebble against pavement drew her attention, and Caitlyn rolled over as best she could, bringing her rifle to bear on the noise.

Lailha crouched there in the shadows, looking supremely unconcerned by high caliber weapon aimed at her, "Ladies and lad, this way, quick and low,"

Caitlyn didn't bother arguing, but crouched low and began to walk away as quickly as she could in her hunched-over state, Abigail and Cameron right behind her. For a few minutes, Caitlyn was content to walk, doubly so once Lailha motioned for them to stand up and walk normally.