Page 78 of Immune

Some people are trained into that.

Some people are hurt into it.

The vending machine slams against the grate just as the fast Rot hits it from the other side. Metal yells, but it holds for now.

The next problem comes from above, when the looters start pushing down the stairs. I catch sight of a yellow scarf just as the bastard fires. The bullet pierces the wall just beside my head, and I return two shots. He ducks back with a laugh.

An actual laugh.

And that’s all it takes to make the decision for me.

These aren’t desperate survivors. They’re not just simple scavengers. They’re men with enough training and discipline to plan. These are men with enough cruelty to enjoy that plan, and I don’t like that combination.

“Smoke!” one of them shouts suddenly, a mere moment before a canister clatters into the service hall and coughs out gray smoke.

“Masks up!” I snap.

The girl is already moving again, bandana tight and eyes narrowed. She kicks the canister back toward the stairwell before it fully blooms and it rolls to a stop near the looters. Their own smoke swallows them whole, and Ewan grins despite everything. “Tiny Terror is packing some jokes.”

She gives him a look that could kill. “Tiny Terror is packing knives sharp enough to skin you alive.”

Ewan only nods. “I’m capable of respecting both.”

The smoke only gives us three seconds, so I use them instead of listening to Ewan cracking jokes.

“Xeon, pilot. Ewan, cover. Kaito, you’re with me.” I look at the masked girl. “You know the route?”

Her eyes flash at me giving her a job instead of grappling for control. She nods once, sharp and almost invisible, right before she bolts for the maintenance door next to the grate instead of the grate itself. It’s smaller, half-hidden behind pipes, but she saw it before I did. Because of course she did.

“Locked,” Kaito says.

“Everything is locked,” the girl snaps. “As soon as the world ended, the doors decided it was their time to shine and grew smug.”

Then she pulls something out of her pocket. A bent tool of some sort, made of thin metal. A hairpin, maybe? Or a part of one. Hell, maybe it’s just scavenged scrap. Whatever it is, she uses it with fast hands and a determination that almost impresses me.

A fast Rot slams into the grate again, rattling the vending machine, and the grate buckles inward.

“Kota,” Kaito warns.

Her hand slips, and she freezes for all of two seconds at the name. Another shot bursts from the stairwell, and she goes straight back to work, gritting out, “Don’t call me that right now.”

“Sorry,” Kaito breathes quietly.

Just then, I hear a click and the door opens. The girl doesn’t acknowledge the apology, simply orders, “Move.”

This time, nobody argues, not even me.

We all pile into a narrower passage, Xeon hauling the pilot through first. Ewan backs in after him, firing shots through the door. Kaito follows after, stumbling just enough for the girl’s hand to twitch toward him before she catches herself and turns it into a gesture to the doorway.

I catch that, too. And I hate how much I’m seeing.

I’m last to go through the doorway just as a looter finally frees himself from the smoke at the same time the fast Rot finally bends the grate enough to force an arm through.

Yellow Scarf raises his rifle, ready to shoot, but then the masked girl steps into the doorway next to me and throws her knife. It buries itself into his shoulder instead of his throat in a move that looked purposeful. The shot goes wide and he falls back with a nasty snarl.

Yanking another blade from somewhere I didn’t see, she points it in Yellow Scarf’s direction and says, “That’s the one that took the helicopter pack.”

The bastard in question scrambles back through the smoke, clutching the stolen cargo strap in his good hand. Two of his people pull him away, and I realize then they’re retreating. Not defeated, but choosing to leave with what they already have.