Lifel1k3 (Lifelike #1)(101)
Lemon’s skull was still throbbing, concussion pounding in the back of her head. But her anger was building, too, bubbling up inside her in a blood-red flood. She reached out, letting the fury ripple from her fingertips. A psychic shockwave blasted outward, frying every circuit inside the Goliaths. They staggered, sparks spewing from their eyes and chests in crackling waterfalls. The terminal controlling Myriad shorted out, and the holographic angel flickered and disappeared as every globe in the chamber exploded.
Gabriel, Mercy and Faith dashed out of the strobing gloom. The three lifelikes moved quicker than anything Lemon had ever seen, a terrifying blur that even Cricket couldn’t match. Faith drew her electrified sword and started swinging at the pistons and hydraulics around Cricket’s knees. Gabriel and Mercy leapt atop the big logika’s shoulders, tearing away the armor plating, hoping to get to the vital cables and relays beneath.
Lemon squealed and ducked behind the bay doors as the logika and lifelikes fell into a tumbling brawl. She didn’t dare risk another surge of her power—she might fritz Cricket by mistake. She watched as the big bot tore Gabriel from his shoulders, hurled him like a thunderbolt back at Myriad’s door. Fresh blood spattered across Gabriel’s Three Truths as the lifelike crumpled to the deck. Cricket danced with Faith, the logika’s fist crashing down as she darted aside, lashing out with her arc-sword. Mercy was still up on Cricket’s back, shredding his armor with her bare hands, face illuminated by bursts of current.
“I’m … sorry, kiddo,” Silas said.
The old man raised the Preacher’s flamethrower, so racked with coughs, he could barely heft the weight. But still, he pulled the trigger, a burst of homemade napalm streaming up onto Cricket’s back. The big logika caught fire, the fuel setting his paint job ablaze. But along with him went Mercy, the lifelike screaming as her shift and curls burst into flame. She fell off the logika’s back, flailing as the fire began consuming her. And with a final agonized wail, she tumbled over the railing and fell into the abyss.
Gabriel climbed to his feet, gasping and unsteady, roaring Mercy’s name. Lemon saw him raise his pistol in slow motion, the world slowing to a crawl as he opened fire. She screamed, hand outstretched, helpless as she watched two shots catch Silas in the chest, a third in his belly, the old man crying out and staggering.
“Silas!” Cricket bellowed.
“Mister C!”
Lemon dashed out from cover as the old man fell, skidding to her knees at his side. Silas’s face was twisted, scarlet spilling from his lips. His chest was soaked with blood, her hands sticky with it. She pressed at the awful wounds, tears streaming down her face.
“Mister C?”
The old man could only groan, blood bubbling at his mouth. Lemon looked around desperately for some way to stop the bleeding, some way to make it better.
“Somebody help me!” she wailed.
“Lemon, take cover!” Cricket roared.
The big bot and Faith had resumed their throwdown, trying their best to kill each other. Cricket’s shoulders and left arm were now ablaze, but he didn’t seem to notice. Lost in fury at seeing his maker get shot, the logika was swinging his burning limb like a massive club. Lemon grabbed Silas by the coveralls, face reddening with strain as she dragged the old man behind the outer doors. Her hands were drenched in red, cheeks wet with tears. Looking for a blanket, a rag, anything to stop the bleeding.
Anything.
“Hold on, Mister C,” she wept. “Just hold on.”
“Sorry, k-kiddo,” he gasped.
“No, you hold on, dammit. You’re gonna be okay… .”
The old man took her bloody hand in his, squeezed it tight. “Look after our g-girl. She’s going to … n-need you now.”
Lemon winced, glancing at the brawl between Faith and Cricket as the floor shuddered, the bridge shook. The pair were going at it like Domefighters. The lifelike was faster, but the logika’s sheer brawn was enough to keep her at bay. Faith was slipping between Cricket’s haymaker, slicing away with her arc-blade, hoping to keep her distance long enough for her brother to rejoin the fight and even the odds.
Lemon turned away from the brawl, back to Silas. She was all set to dash off in search of a medkit—there had to be something around that could help. But her breath caught in her throat when she saw that the old man’s eyes were open and glazed.
“… Mister C?”
She shook him, his knuckles rapping on the gantry as his lifeless hand fell away from hers. Grief dug claws into her belly when she shook him again.
“Mister C?”
No reply. He lay there, empty and still. The man who’d taken her in. The man who’d given her a roof, a family, a place to belong. The man who’d never once asked for a thank-you. Her tears burned as the sob escaped her throat.
“… Grandpa?”
Gabriel was setting his shoulders to charge back into the brawl between Faith and Cricket when he caught movement at the railing to his left. Turning, he saw Ana climbing up over the vent shaft’s ledge, gasping and breathless, clutching her bruised throat. Ezekiel scrambled up beside her, eyes narrowing when he spotted Gabriel raising his pistol.
Ezekiel shouted a warning and lunged into the firing line as Gabriel blasted away. Two bullets struck home, Ana screaming Ezekiel’s name as he and Gabriel collided, the pair falling into a snarling tangle. The smoking pistol spun out of reach when the lifelikes’ hands found each other’s throats. Ezekiel’s T-shirt shredded, exposing the bullet holes in his bleeding chest, the coin slot Gabriel had riveted there to remind him of his loyalty to Ana.