Gray

The sharp shot of the line stopped his heart. Tirate went down. Dieter emerged smoothly from the opening where the enemy had come from a few moments before. Blood-smeared, sleeve charred, he stepped silently. As he drew closer, he kept aiming at the black body, which showed no sign of life. Zorm and another dozen of ours appeared behind him. Alpha looked around, checking to see if anyone was here. Then, as if sensing something, he glanced upward  pointing the barrel at the same time. I felt my heart stop again — he could have shot me, thinking I was an outsider in an ambush. I wouldn't have had time to make a sound. For a second, I thought he would. Pull the trigger. The barrel went sideways. A grim shadow slid across the alpha's face, but he regained his composure and waggled his chin questioningly. I immediately returned my gaze to the screen and gestured to where and how many tyrates could observe from here. Dieter's team disappeared around the corner, and I was finally able to exhale. I didn't even realize I was drenched in cold sweat. My hands were shaking. I couldn't think... Shouldn't think about what was happening; I couldn't let fear take over my thoughts, or it would be the end. I shook my head, as if trying to shake off an impending stupor, and turned back to the screen. Ours, the ones who had knocked out the Tyrates with a grenade on the first floor, had already dealt with the group behind the cars in the hangar, and were now clashing in the courtyard. The Tyrates had eased their onslaught considerably, despite still vastly outnumbering us. As I looked around the cams pointed into the courtyard, I saw many corpses draped in black uniforms, but there were just as many of our own. I guess it was all about the lack of support. This was the first time the Tyrates had ever faced such a pushback in their lives, and now their well-coordinated and organized actions had collapsed into futile firing and aimless runs that brought no advantage. They were simply wasting ammunition, drawn into imposed small skirmishes. Our guys didn't look any better. But gangsters are gangsters, what they had was anger and reckless bravery. They were less afraid of dying, or maybe they were used to the fact that every day could be their last. They killed with passion, with desire. It wasn't work, it was life for them. And again the gunfire, and again the explosions followed. There was little I could do now. All that remained was to watch the carnage as it continued to reduce the living in favor of the dead. The Tyrates were falling, our own were falling too. I regretted that I did so little to help. About forty minutes passed, until at one point the firing simply stalled. There was a strange silence, the kind you get after a concussion when you can't tell if it's silent around you or just inside your skull. I continued to stare at the screens. A sea of bodies, smoke everywhere, fire — grenades and mixtures. Dieter's guys started appearing on the battle field. They circled the area, taking turns approaching the bodies and kicking them with their boots. Occasionally there were lone shots. They showed more respect to their own. Quietly, I watched them carry away one of ours, he was still alive. Closing the computer, I went downstairs. I didn't go through the building again. I couldn't bring myself to go into the dark passage, so I chose another way. Around the corner, I almost tripped over a body. Tirate. Crossing the courtyard, I saw the guys, about twenty of them, with Dieter at head, talking about something. Before I reached the entrance to the barn, they broke into small groups and trotted off in different directions. Probably decided to check the alley-sleeves to see if anyone was left behind. When the cams started rolling, I saw one of the transporters, the one Tirm had taken out, lying on the ground upside down, on fire. There were bodies scattered around. The second was still under fire at that time. The third hadn’t managed to leave the alley - it had a stripped rare wheel, and now a driver with a navigator were under siege. Sooner or later they would run out of ammunition and then... Then there would be more bodies. Once inside the barn, I froze for a second. The cars - a truck and four old cars - resembled a sieve. There were bodies around. Lots of bodies. What awaited me in the common room I knew. Visors crumbled in smithereens, the table and chairs were blown to splinters, the basketball hoop fell off, the coffee machine lay on its side, blinking with the light. I saw how the grenade explode here myself. How they were killed. Everything looked a dozen times worse than in the square of the screen. Blood covered the floor. I looked away and stepped back. ‘Hey, Will!’ I shouted into the stairwell. ‘Get out of there, we've got things to do.’ It took a while, but the omega showed up, followed by the rest of ours from the third floor. ‘We need to check the bodies in the barn. Maybe there are survivors among ours. Come on, or Dieter's gonna skin you!’ I spurred him on, seeing the huge dazed eyes staring at me like I was a monster. ‘I'm coming.’ The omega stammered, and on shaky legs, holding on to the bullet-riddled wall, crawled down. I turned around and froze again, as if I'd seen it for the first time. ‘Fuck!’ Seeing so many dead bodies and a sea of blood, Will ducked behind me and fell silent. ‘These are dead, the guys checked’ I said dryly as the rest of the omegas came down, and just like Will, they froze in mute horror. ‘More of ours are in the barn, but I don't know if they're alive, check.’ Dieter's probably already taken care of it, but it'd be best if everyone started moving as soon as possible. After sending the omegas off to do some business, I wandered into the kitchen and lit a fire on the stove. I set the kettle full of water, trying to keep my hands steady. Went to the table and sat down with my back to the aisle. There was a commotion all around. I couldn't see, but I could hear people walking. They were talking, but I wasn't listening. My thoughts were far away. The riots weren’t much different from what I'd seen today. Gunfire, explosions, screams and shouts everywhere. Blood. Blood stained clothes, floors, walls, things. People were torn to pieces, leaving a trail of death as far as the firepower of Tyrates allowed. During the lull, everything was brought back to certain order. Clothes were almost laundered, aside from a few grimy stains; walls were scrubbed, but the hard metal sponge scratched paint and wallpaper; bullet holes were everywhere. Small ones, as thick as a finger. I hadn't seen a smooth, untouched wall in Greystadt in a long time. The seal of massacre was everywhere. Then I stayed without my father. I remember him the day he walked out the door happy that he no longer had to hide as a rat in hope of surviving the night and finding scraps in the dumpster. About a month before that I’d turned eighteen, he had told me that I was an adult now and should take care of myself. Did I think that my father was happy to be rid of a burden and had gone off into the fog as soon as I came of age? Perhaps if it had been that way, it would have been easier. Except he was waiting for me to get on my feet, or at least become responsible for myself, so he could get revenge. To do something. The uprisings didn't scare him. On the contrary, he was encouraged and energized, for the first time in years. He believed that the hour had finally come for the people to rise up against inhuman tyranny. And he too could stand up for us and for the honor of his omega. Dad died four years earlier. A miscarriage, lack of blood for transfusion, syringes, medication and the rest. One night the tyrates knocked on our door. Dad was saving me and my father. And he succeeded. At the cost of his own life, even if it didn't leave him immediately. My father died in the uprisings. ‘Kettle, Rain!’ Will ran into the kitchen and turned the switcher. Then he took out a pot, poured in a packet of black tea, then green tea, and added boiled water over it. The kettle returned to the stove, followed by another pot. And the omega disappeared behind me again. I snagged one of the cups drying in a row on the windowsill and scooped stewed tea up. Concentrated bitterness burned my tongue. My body shuddered, my nose crinkled, moisture gathered, and I sneezed, feeling tears come to my eyes. I coughed, and for the first time I realized I was cold. I was frozen to my bones, to my very core, wherever it was inside. Will watered down densely brewed beverage, filling the pot to the top, and told the omegas to call the others. Pretty quickly the kitchen filled with people. It was crowded with barely three dozen of us, a third — omegas who hadn't been in the firefight. Everyone was talking. Softly and confused. Piecemeal. How many bodies and where. Ours or the tyrates. Again about the attack, cowardly and pathetic. The omegas who bred the bastards into the light. Guns, a fire in the yard that wouldn't go out easily. A few wounded. Only one of them had a chance to survive. I came to my senses when Will, sitting across me, frowning with worry and ready to burst into tears at any moment, sacrificing a thick layer of eyeliner, jumped up from his chair. ‘Dit!’ There was a rush and a heavy, distinctive footstep behind. Dieter froze in the middle, looking at those gathered from under heavy eyebrows. ‘How many?’ He asked, and the hoarseness in his voice was a reminder of what we'd been through. ‘Twenty-seven.’ Came a reply, and there was an oppressive silence in the kitchen. There are only twenty-seven of us left. So few. ‘What's the plan?’ Zorm asked, appearing beside Dieter. Alpha's lips pressed a little tighter together. ‘We should leave as soon as possible. Only not to the second, but to the third base.’ Suggested Zorm as the right hand. ‘There's nothing there, but it's quiet, and almost no one knows. I think it will be safe there.’ ‘No.’ Dieter interrupted decisively. ‘We're staying.’ ‘But...’ Zorm's confidence faded, and he realized the leader's mood. ‘It would be a suicide. The Tyrates must have got their bearings by now, and they'll be pulling up their forces soon. There are too many of them, even if we gather everybody. We can't hold out, we're not ready, Dit.’ Zorm was right. We weren’t ready. The tyrates were a horde, no matter how brave those who had long ago said goodbye to the letter of the law — those, who stood around now. The others must have known what had happened, we expected them any minute. Let there be three hundred of us, or even four. It's still not enough. ‘We have to bluff.’ I said in the silence, noting that my voice didn't sound confident. The way Dieter's voice sounded. It wasn't because I doubted what I wanted to propose, it was just... there was less and less strength left in my body. I looked up in front of me, looked at Dieter. He was silent. He knew we couldn't run. We'd only show weakness and we'd be killed. ‘Obviously, one day they would attack. The Mark is gathering power: people, territory, weapons. Everyone knows where we are, and it won't be long before they know where we were going. You can't shut everyone up. Long tongues. When do we expect a second attack? A week, two weeks?’ No one answered the question. ‘Let's get to the point.’ Zorm said with a careless nudge. ‘Instead of fleeing, we should entrench ourselves. Use this skirmish to our advantage. After all, we have stood out.’ ‘There are twenty-seven of us, of which a dozen are omegas.’ Zorm tossed dismissively. That's why you lost then. I thought, but instead I turned my attention back to the problem at hand. ‘Here's an option.’ I got right to the point. ‘The rest of us will be here soon. There are enough of them for me to make a good video. We'll arm everyone to the teeth, even the omegas.’ I glared at Zorm, ‘And we'll march triumphantly over the corpses of the Tyrates. Show them destroyed.’ That's a suggestion no one expected. ‘And send the video to Mr. Hubert.’ I checked the reactions again and noticed how the faces changed. ‘The video will be accompanied by a message that if the Tyrates ever set foot in the Mark’s territory again, there will be more uprisings tomorrow. We'll threaten to raise the people.’ The Minister of Law and Order, who had been in charge of the Tyraty since Dieter's capture and in fact had sole control of Greystadt as his own fiefdom, wouldn’t like this option. ‘We'll tell them that the rest, who risked to come to us, will suffer the same fate as their less fortunate brothers who dared to come to us today. We’ll threaten that in case they continue the attack, we’ll broadcast the video on all available networks, to show the weakness and failure of the Tyraty to citizens who are tired of the yoke and will be glad to get even. We'll say that we'll arm everyone, down to the last snotty kid, and move against the authorities if they want war with the Mark.’ ‘You seriously think they'll buy that story?’ ‘Why not?’ I stuck my chin out stubbornly, objecting to Zorm. My fingers gripped the cup tighter — I didn't want them to see my hands shaking. ‘They lost today. We'll show the bodies and a lot of our men, and who guarantees its everyone under Dieter's command? There could be thousands of us. And how do they check the number of weapons we have? Besides, looking at the footage of happy gangsters wiping their feet on their soldiers without getting hit by a single bullet will make it easier to doubt their own strength. Let's take in the frame those who are on their way here now and weren’t involved at all. Not a scratch on them, and that's fine. Let's plant a seed of doubt in the informants and troops of Tyraty. Our main argument will be their defeat today.’ ‘How are you going to push the video to Hubert?’ Dieter asked. ‘On the networks, of course.’ I shrugged. ‘I can handle it.’ ‘Is it possible to show this video to all the citizens?’ ‘All in all, yep.’ I answered a little strained. ‘The bluff will be only our true number and the number of weapons, as well as threats of rebellion. They screwed up today, and this is our opportunity to make them more cautious. It won't save us, of course, but it will buy us time. Then we'll decide what to do.’ I said, looking into Dieter's eyes. It was time to strategize against the dragon, or we'd get our heads bitten off. ‘Sounds like nonsense.’ Zorm grumbled. ‘If we threaten them, don't you think they'll block all the networks? They'd flood the neighborhoods with their pulse cannons.’ ‘Yes, that's what they'll probably do.’ I agreed. ‘But we'll cheat.’ How - there's no point in explaining the technical details. In fact, I didn't want to let everyone in on the plan down to the last point.’ The less you know, the better you sleep. ‘But before we send the video, I'll make sure Mr. Hubert and his family feel vulnerable. And that will be the final push in the right direction.’ I coughed. ‘The key is to make them doubt their own ability. If there's a real need to upload the video, we've probably already lost.’ Alas, it was the bitter truth. ‘Let's try to make a mutually beneficial agreement. The Tyrates don't touch us, and we don't touch them.’ Zorm opened his mouth to call me an ass, but I beat him to it: ‘It's clear that if they agree, they'll think they have time to dig into us more thoroughly, so they can strike later and crush us. Only for sure. But we'll understand the same thing and prepare for an attack. The only difference is that we really need time to gather forces and decide how to keep on, while they do not. Only they don't know about it, and we need to support them in their indecision and push them to be careful.’ I said all that and fell silent in anticipation. Dieter was deep in thought, and the others were silent. Even Zorm quietened. He understood me after all, even though he was a narrow-minded asshole. ‘Let's try it.’ Dieter said, nodding to the men, and they agreed without a word. ‘Set your traps.’ He turned to me. ‘As soon as everyone arrives, we'll call for a movie. Any volunteers for the stars of the rebellion?’ One simple question defused the situation no worse than the line that left the store. There were stifled laughs and dumb jokes. We were alive, and Dieter, being a skillful leader, paved the way, not allowing us to lose fighting spirit.