81 — Sanguine Dawn

Kaite watched as the glow of the flare faded. Slowly, the world returned to its natural hue, the rooftops and windows that surrounded the plaza once again dark.

She let out a long breath, and without looking at Nate, said, “So this is it, we die and it’s over. I guess here with you, of all people, is still better than biting it on a delegation job gone wrong.”

Nate scoffed. “Acerbic to the last. But turn your mind from thoughts of a romantic last stand, my fateful warrior. Look.”

Kaite humored them. She shifted to see above the fortified handrail, and looked. 

She saw soldiers. She saw guns. She saw them shouting at the police, who were inches away and hidden behind her manifested metal sheet that would vanish at any instant.

She saw a light on a rooftop. 

Curious, she reached for the eyepiece of her com’ask instinctively, but it wasn't there. She had torn it off.

Then she saw more lights on more rooftops, and then more, and more.

“What… the—” she said, nearly under her breath. 

Nate let out a little laugh. “Did you imagine that the combined connections of Jaegré, Emmett, and myself, were fictional? Theoretical? Who do you think was handling the lion’s share of the evacuation? Did you not imagine that some who were evacuated wouldn’t also volunteer to assist?”

The lights were torches and lanterns, each held by someone — each illuminated many more someones.

“— fuck.” Kaite completed her sentence as she slowly took it in.

The soldiers and police had noticed it too. Kaite could see the marksmen changing firing positions.

There suddenly came the scratchy tone of a loudspeaker activating with the words, “Good morning!” The voice was a woman’s, who Kaite didn't recognize.

She searched the edges of the rooftops facing the gathered soldiers, and soon found the speaker, silhouetted against the sunrise.

The stranger wore a fantastically ostentatious hat, its brim as wide as her shoulders. Her long coat flared in the light breeze. She was holding a large speaker in one hand, and a microphone in the other.

“Oh good,” she said in a smoky voice, “Got your attention. I don't seem to recall giving you lot permission to play bullet-tag on my turf.” Her accent was melodic — her words flowed.

“The fuck is that?” Kaite asked Nate in a hushed tone. 

“Wait,” Nate uttered, incredulously. “Jaegré never introduced you two?”

“Introduced me to who?” Kaite barked, wide eyes peeking over the railing at the commanding woman. Something Jaegré had said about a contact of his suddenly tugged at her mind — heart of gold.

The soldiers and police were all shouting, overlapping, words indistinguishable in the noise.

“Wait,” the woman on the rooftop said into her speaker with a laugh. “None of you know? This is Four-Toe territory. No? Not ringing any bells?” She then turned to someone next to her, but her words were still picked up by the microphone. “Was this batch born yesterday? Fresh off the self?” Scattered laughter erupted.

She returned to the mic. “Well, I’ve got to hand it to you — you’ve done an awful good job at pissing off a whole lot of people. You’ve got that nasty killing machine in the sky careening back and forth right over people’s heads — the people are anxious! People have questions! Why, they might even ask them!”

“Surrender yourselves immediately!” was shouted by a particularly loud uniformed man who was standing in a cluster of other uniformed men, all with guns raised to the rooftops.

She laughed. “Got anyone up here who wants to surrender?” There was another scattering of laughter, this time accompanied by jeers and cries for revenge.  “Doesn’t sound like it — sorry, love. Say, ever heard of a message in a bottle? We’ve got a few of those up here. Let's get those questions asked, shall we? Firestorm, loose!”

There were suddenly many more lights. Flames were being lit on rags attached to bottles. They were then lobbed into the streets at the soldiers. Big balls of flame bloomed as they hit cobblestone and helmet alike.

Gunfire rang out directly to Kaite's left — the police had opened fire on the figures on the rooftops. More flashes of light appeared chaotically — the Four-Toes were returning fire.

Kaite and Nate ducked down even farther. “Fucking — shit-fuck!” Kaite shouted.

Nate was plugging their ears with their fingers.

There was then a dark shape in the sky. It took a half second for Kaite to realize what she was seeing — the leader of the Four-Toes had become airborne. An instant later Kaite realized that she was swinging from a rope that was somehow attached above their heads. 

The woman landed with a roll, narrowly avoiding the dozens of burnt corpses that littered the platform.

“Hey Nate!” she shouted as she stood. Both hands were going for pistols in hip holsters. “And you must be Kaite. Charmed. Know where I can get a clear shot at those buggers behind you?”

Kaite needed a moment. The strange woman was almost as tall as she was, and probably five years her senior. Her ice-blue eyes were smeared with ashen makeup that deepened the shadow her hat’s brim cast on her generously freckled face. In stark contrast, her lips were crisp candy-apple red.

The moment passed. 

“Here,” Kaite said.

The metal wall vanished.

The woman blinked in surprise. “Oh, fuck — that’ll work.” 

The police twisted to their right, shocked at the sudden change in geography.

The woman pulled her triggers, fire charging fourth from both pistols rapidly, repeatedly.

The gunpowder explosions split Kaite’s ears as shots rang out; one, two, five, six, eight…

The police scrambled, but the gunfire at such close range at their flank had them tumbling like dominos. Any who managed to raise their gun to return fire immediately felt a bullet tearing through them.

Ten, eleven, twelve.

Just when it seemed like the woman's pistols had to be spent, she reached for a pair of chest-holsters, drew a fresh set, and continued the barrage.

Fourteen, sixteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-two, twenty-three.

Over the ringing in her ears, Kaite thought she made out, “What to do with the last shot,” followed by a pause, and then a final ear-splitting blast. “Ha! Saw you there!”

The next thing Kaite knew, a deceptively delicate gloved hand was being offered to her. It was blackened from gunfire.

She took it, and was pulled to her feet.

Face to face with her savior, she blinked. 

The woman then leaned against the trolley car. She lit a match, and then a cigarette. Kaite watched in stunned silence as the woman took a long drag. “Mercy,” she said, her voice almost sultry as she released the smoke into the air. “I love it when they just… line up. I needed that.”

“Yeah, uh,” Kaite began, unsure how to interrupt what felt like an intimate moment. “Nice shooting.”

The woman grinned. “Thanks. But, got-ta say, love, you live up to your reputation. All those dead yours?” She pointed the lit cigarette at the dozens of bodies that were already there when she arrived.

“Yeah,” Kaite said cautiously.

“Fuck, you must be knackered. But you don't disappoint. Just like Jaegré described.” She brought the cigarette back to her lips for a moment before continuing. “How is that tall drink of water doing anyway? Where the devil is he?” The question was punctuated with a stream of smoke. Both hung in the air.

“Ah,” Kaite said, her heart was suddenly like fire in her chest. She shot a glance at Nate. They hadn't told her. It was starting to be a pattern.

Kaite broke it. “Afraid he's dead.”

“No shit,” the woman suddenly said, her entire demeanor changing. She took off her gigantic hat, revealing dirty-blond hair that was tightly braided up. “Fuck me. I want to say something helpful but… damn. I'm so sorry, love. When’d it happen?”

“Few hours ago. Also — who are you exactly?’

The woman looked hurt. “He never told you about—? Fuck. He'd better be glad he's dead. Some boyfriend he was. Asshole never shuts up about you.” She took one last drag and then put out her cigarette on the body of a slain soldier.

“Wait — hold on — what? Who? Who the fuck are you?” Kaite nearly stumbled over.

“Rémi Meribor of the Four-Toes, and underboss of these fine streets, at your service my love,” she said, and then made a dramatic bow, and began to reload her pistols, one bullet at a time.

“And Jaegré is your—”

“Ex. Sort of. It's complicated. Or, it was. God-damn it. Sorry again, by the way. For your loss. Damn. Fuck.” Rémi seemed to be struggling to slide each bullet into place, and growing increasingly frustrated. It was a stark contrast to the absolute composure of the first impression.

Without knowing what she was doing, Kaite closed the gap with the woman and put her arms around her. Rémi tensed at first, but quickly relaxed. Kaite clung to her, eyes pressed shut.

Rémi returned the hug lightly at first, but then squeezed. “Yeah. Feels bad knowing he's gone.”

“Really fucking bad,” Kaite choked.

“Okay,” Rémi said, releasing Kaite. She holstered a pistol, and drew another, continuing the reloading process. “Looks like reinforcements just arrived in the streets. I'm going back in. I'll get my feelings out skull-fucking those assholes. Want to join me?”

“Another time,” Kaite said. 

“That so?” Rémi replied, clicking fresh bullets into place one by one. “Alright. It's a date.”

Kaite laughed. She was surprised at how good it felt. “Sure, a date. Why not.”

“You going to be alright, love?” Rémi asked as she clicked the final pistol closed, holstered it, and swung her large hat back in place.

Kaite nodded. “Yeah. I'll be okay.” She then snorted. “Enjoy the skull-fucking. I've got my own asshole to deal with.”

“Always do,” Rémi replied with a wink.

Shots zipped overhead. Kaite and Nate both ducked for cover. Rémi jumped off the platform, and vanished into the fray.

Kaite caught Nate staring at her. “What?” she demanded.

“Well, clearly Jaegré had a type.”

“Oh, you've got a death wish little man.”

Nate looked taken aback. “Need I remind you that I am almost certainly not a man? Now, as much as I’d like to discuss this delicious new complication in your life, I must remind you that we're not out of the fire yet — in fact…” They checked their pocket-watch again.

“Wait, what’s going—?” Kaite nearly stuttered, overwhelmed.

Music was approaching — somehow even louder than gunfire and explosions that were still ringing out in the streets. It was coming from the rail-line, in the opposite direction from the crashed police trolley.

Kaite cautiously stood as she looked in astonishment. It was a bright blue trolley with brassy horns adorning the top. They were sounding triumphantly in a tune that every citizen of Rivton knew by heart. 

“The fucking postal service?” Kaite balked.

Nate had left her side and was bounding towards the approaching carriage. Before it could fully screech to a halt, a small round man who seemed to be built entirely from smiles jumped out onto the platform and tackled Nate in a warm embrace.

“Johnathan!” He cried out. “I thought you had been vanished!”

“My dear old friend — it's Nate now. It is likewise delightful to see you again. When I had heard that you were part of Emmett's network I dared chance a reunion. Make haste! Emmett grows weaker by the minute.”

“At once — and my apologies, Nate!”

Kaite watched in stunned disbelief as several dozen postal carrier entourage manifested and formed a wall blocking the platform from stray gunfire. Meanwhile, Nate's entourage emerged from the wrecked trolley carrying the stretcher with Emmett, and sacks of tablets. A cowering Greg was right behind them. Tony brought up the back, quickly going to Nate.

“My dear Tony,” Nate explained quickly, “this is Roth Xavier, postmaster, traitor to the delegation, ally to Emmett, and once-again friend!”

Kaite caught her breath, and moved to stand. For the second time, a hand was offered to help her up. 

She managed a smile, and grasped it. Nate couldn't exactly help her up, but she appreciated the gesture. 

“We're all loaded into the postal trolley. Are you coming?” They asked.

“Guess I was wrong,” she said, ignoring the question. “Sometimes… yeah. You were right.”

Nate smiled warmly. “We're anything but alone in this fight, my dear friend.”

“I'm going back for her.”

Nate blinked. “For—?’

“For Sheam. I left her. Fuck that. I'm going back for her. I don't care where she is or what's left of her. I'll tear the entire delegation apart if I need to. I love that woman.”

“I'm coming too!” Greg shouted, running over. His very likely unfired sidearm was still shoved under the waistband of his trousers. 

“Greg, isn't your place by Emmett’s side?” Nate protested.

Greg waved it off. “Emmett will be fine. Roth and you will get him to the lab, I have no doubt. I owe this to Sheam. I still have so much to make up for.”

Kaite balked. “Do what you want, but I'm not waiting up.”

“Godspeed,” Nate said, throwing their arms around the large woman.

“Yeah,” she said, surprising herself by returning the hug. “You too.”

She broke free, and took off in a sprint, back in the direction they had spent all morning fleeing.

“Be alive, asshole,” she hissed. “Only I'm allowed to kill you.”