Crack in the Kill Code (AmpCore #2)

60 - Ding, Ding, Ding: Tell Them What They Won

Given what they'd already been through, it worried Arrow that the pain they felt now was worse than anything they'd experienced before. Even when they'd been stabbed by a codewraith, and when Holly had tried to kill them, and they'd fallen through several levels of rock and rubble – it hadn't hurt like this.

They moved gingerly. Arrow let out a faint whimper, feeling a surge of blazing agony in their shattered wrist. They'd lost hold of their wand in the fight; had no way to check how bad the damage actually was. Their windpipe throbbed and they struggled to get breath into their lungs. They blinked, eventually opening their eyes to find a film of crimson over everything.

Arrow remembered the lacerating shards cutting through the skin of their face, and Piper confronting that crimson-eyed fucker.

It took what felt like years, but they managed to struggle into a sitting position. That's when the silence really hit home. No life, no light, just the faint rumble of the city overhead. Peering into the gloom, they could just about make out the wrecked forms of the codewraiths and mechs, as well as some bodies from their unlucky security detachment.

They moved some part of their body that they shouldn't have. Agony slammed through them so violently that they couldn't even really pinpoint where it had originated. They waited. Counted to ten and waited for the pain to ebb away. It didn't – not really, but it deadened enough for them to open their eyes again.

Dark. Very dark. They remembered dimly that only their left arm was usable. Moving with agonising care, they squirmed up into a sitting position. A fresh tsunami of pain crashed against the back of Arrow's eyes. They breathed. In and out. As quick as they dared. Their eyes slowly adjusted.

Some of the lighting fixtures sputtered in vain, their sparks providing a little bit of illumination.

Piper's gone.

The words finally surfaced into their mind. Arrow let out a choking noise – part grief and part rage – trying to piece together just what the hell had happened down here. A trap. It had all been a fucking trap, just for Piper.

Why? Why, why, why? How did any of this fit together. They couldn't concentrate. The logical threads were knocked loose by a fresh jolt of agony every few seconds. Then something else punched through that fog of frustration and pain.

Noise. Footsteps. Some voices. It all sounded muddy, as thought it had been passed through a blender and they now had to try and pick out the individual ingredients. Arrow gingerly swivelled in their sitting position, cradling their shattered arm with the other hand. They could see gun-mounted flashlights cutting into the dark.

That was good. Hopefully. Arrow hadn't seen any of the machines carrying guns. They waited, unable to even muster up the energy to call out. Just waiting, waiting, waiting, until an errant beam of light swept over them.

"Sir!" someone shouted, agonisingly loud. "Over here!"

The trooper came into view a moment later – a bulky silhouette of armour just visible beyond the glare of his gun-mounted torch. Arrow closed their eyes, unable to look at the brightness without fresh cascades of pain rattling through their skull.

"Fuck sake, ease off!" snarled a familiar voice. "Gonna burn their eyes out with that thing."

Then firm hands on their shoulders. The smell of that dumb, over-blown fucking cologne that most people couldn't have paid for with a month's salary. A tone of voice that could have scorched earth all on its own.

"Arrow?"

"Hi... Mr. Knox," they managed in a weak croak.

"Jesus," he grated, shaking his head and doing a very bad job at making them feel particularly optimistic.