Safehouse

The First Breach

Aira

5092

***

"Get your gear together," the leader of Fighter Group 43, Chrysa, growled as she stormed into my room with a scimitar strapped to her back and two hunting knives at her side. Chrysa was built like a tank: 6'6 with pale skin and heavily muscled. Her blond hair was cut above her shoulders, her dark eyes serious. I yawned as I sat up in my bed, waking up from my nap. The clock beside my bed read 12:30 AM. "There's been a breach in District 15."

I jumped up and ran for my dresser. "How many?" I asked as I took out my machete and throwing knives. I strapped the machete to my back and the knives around my waist.

"Three," she answered as I followed her out of the room and down the hall. "No casualties yet. The residents have been moved into the Business District."

"Good," I said.

"Aira," she said, addressing me. "Your first job can be frightening. Be ready for anything."

"I'm ready," I told her.

"No one ever is," another voice said as we entered the main room. It was Nairo, the most unpleasant person I had ever met. He seemed to just generally hate most people. He was the same age as Chrysa, 28, with red hair, blue eyes, tan skin, and was about 6'5. "Saying you are is just bullshit."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said to him. I looked around. "Where are the others?"

"They went ahead of us," Chrysa answered. "I sent them to make sure you don't get eaten."

"How sweet," I said dryly. "Ready?"

"Yep," Nairo said, adjusting the twin swords across his back. "Just waiting for you."

I flipped him off after he turned around. "I'm right behind you." I followed him and Chrysa outside to the jet-black motorcycles. There were only two. 

"Hop on mine," Chrysa ordered as she swung her leg over the one on the left and started the engine. I walked over and hopped on behind her, bracing my hands behind me as she sped off down Main Street. I watched the number streets pass by on either side of us. The Fighter's HQ was placed in the center of the Safehouse, the metal dome in which we all lived. The place was lit up by white lights meant to simulate the sun, complete with UV rays. At night, they were switched for softer lights meant to simulate moonlight. The streets were laid out like a grid: the number streets ranging from 1 to 15, with Fighter HQ on 8th along with the main government building. The other streets were A through N, with Main Street between G and H street. The Districts were the residential sections at the alternating ends of the number streets, Odds on A Street, Evens on N Street. Our target was at D and 15 Street.

Chrysa turned right as soon as we hit 15 street. "Get ready."

I drew one of my throwing knives as we passed E Street. The sound of screaming was growing, as well as the amount of people fleeing towards us. "Ready."

Chrysa stopped the motorcycle and parked it on the side of the street. No Fighter ever feared having their motorcycle stolen because no one was stupid enough to steal one. They were practically made of trackers, and Fighters can make the difference of everyone living, or everyone dying. We hopped off and started going on foot towards the breach.

Nairo was already there, helping up one of the other Fighters. It was Yara, a dark-skinned woman a year younger than him and Chrysa with black hair pulled back in two thick braids and light brown eyes. There was a long gash along her left leg from the top of her thigh to her knee.

"It's just a scratch," Yara gritted out. "I'm fine. Go help Iseo."

Nairo hovered his hands over her wound, a soft glow forming around his hands and flowing into her gash. His healing gift. "I'll handle this. You two go."