The Compassionate Assassin Read online

  “Going somewhere, murderess?” Ava shouted. “I see the game you two are playing: one distracts while the other tries to come up with a feasible plan. I'm mighty tired of your scheming.”

  The armor's boot-jets revved up, and before Deathrain could even raise her arms, the armor plowed into her back, driving her chest-first into a column. This time, it felt like her ribs were nearly knocked out of her front.

  Again, she slid to the floor...but her hand touched something hard, a thin rock-like object about a foot long: a piece from Kain's body, probably from when Auspice had kicked him in the chest.

  It was long enough, with a near-perfect point. Deathrain grabbed it, carefully slipping it behind her back so Ava wouldn't see it.

  Ava raised her left arm, smoke continuing to rush out of it, and a beam began powering up within the armor's gauntlet. “I've got this trained on your head, Deathrain. Once I blow it off, it'll be easy to––”

  Deathrain lunged forward and drove the improvised knife into the glowing palm panel. Ava shrieked, and the gauntlet began shaking and emitting a sound like a drumroll. Then yellow energy erupted in all directions, scorching Deathrain and the floor.

  When the explosion ceased, Deathrain saw that the armor's arm had been blown off. Exposed wires sparked and smoked, and pieces from the armor tinkled to the floor.

  “You...you...that's it!” Ava screamed. “No more playing around!”

  A long silvery blade extended from the forearm of the armor's remaining arm. It looked razor-sharp and constructed of a tough material – something Sergei or Kain would've enjoyed owning.

  Ava sent it in a wide arc, probably hoping to decapitate Deathrain in one fell swoop. And the knife did cut deep into flesh – just not Deathrain's

  Auspice jumped between them, screaming in agony as the blade ripped into his stomach. Thick blood splattered onto Deathrain's mask, and for an instant she could see Auspice's guts, and a white flash that was probably bone.

  He collapsed into her arms, blood already draining from his face, his eyes already dimming.

  “What...what did you do?!” Deathrain screamed, applying pressure to Auspice's wound. But the wound was too large, blood running from it too rapidly; it was like trying to stop the flow of a river with a piece of paper.

  “Couldn't...let...you die,” Auspice gurgled.

  “Goddamn idiot,” Deathrain whispered. “I could've healed...we could've....”

  “Heal? From...decapitation? That'd be...something to see. Well, I did...what I had to....”

  “Auspice....”

  “Just remember, Deathrain: our pasts...don't define us. We can always choose to...choose to....”

  The death rattle came, and then blank eyes stared at Deathrain.

  “Awwww,” Ava said. “So sad. Are you gonna weep over your poor, dead boyfriend? Go ahead, Deathrain: let's see some tears. Now you know how I felt when you murdered Frankie.”

  Deathrain gently laid Auspice's body down and closed his eyes.

  “Goodbye, Auspice,” she whispered. Then she stood up and stared down Ava. “No, Ava – no tears.”

  Deathrain held out the trigger device she'd taken from Auspice.

  “What the hell's that?” Ava asked. “Looks like a Pez dispenser.”

  “It's the end,” Deathrain replied. “You made a mistake by killing Auspice – because now I truly don't care.”

  She depressed the trigger, and white fire ripped through the building.

  Chapter Fifteen

  So this was what being in a coffin felt like, Deathrain thought as she regained consciousness.

  In her line of work, one could never escape thoughts of death and burial. She'd been the cause of many funerals over the years, and had even attended those funerals to take out additional targets who'd gathered to pay their respects.

  But to be buried herself, while still alive...she knew she should be frightened, should be trying to claw her way to the surface, but she didn't want to struggle. She wanted to lay here, locked within the rubble of Kain's dark fortress, until she perished.

  She recalled depressing the trigger, then a massive explosion, then a great weight driving her downward.

  Now she was here, in darkness, with probably dozens of bones broken and the fractured concrete jutting into her body from all angles.

  It hurt, badly, but she no longer cared.

  She'd stopped herself from killing Kain, and for a brief moment she'd felt Auspice's respect and understanding. Then her past had returned in the form of the Metalhead armor, controlled by Ava, and killed Auspice.

  It was just like the deaths of Vera and Nolan. As soon as Deathrain tried to escape her black fury, something scrambled up from the abyss and reminded her who she was, and what sort of life she was destined for.

  What was the point of struggling any more? If she escaped from this rubble, the process would just repeat itself: she'd try to do good, and those around her would suffer or die.

  No, better to lie here and hope she died before the response crews dug her out....

  “Help...me....”

  A soft voice, coming from...somewhere? Perhaps beneath her?

  “Please...help....”

  Deathrain tried to respond, but a sharp piece of rubble had lodged in her cheek. Twisting her head, she popped her cheek out of the piece, let her face heal for a few moments, then replied in a still nigh-incomprehensible voice:

  “Who's that?”

  “Deathrain? It's me, Ava.”

  That damned AI. She saw Auspice getting his torso sliced open, saw him die in her arms. For a moment, she struggled against the debris crushing her, forgetting her vow of suicide.

  Then she calmed herself, taking deep breaths and closing her eyes. What was the point of escaping? So she could avenge Auspice's demise by killing the AI? That's the very cycle she wanted to stop.

  No, let the AI die by itself. It sounded like Ava was trapped just like her. If so, wonderful. If not, no matter; someone else could handle the insane artificial intelligence when they cleared the rubble.

  “Deathrain, I'm scared,” Ava whispered. Her voice seemed closer, somehow, though Deathrain knew it was unlikely the Metalhead armor had moved. “I...I don't want to die. Not like Frankie....”

  “Shut up,” Deathrain growled.

  “No, please, listen to me––”

  “Leave me the fuck alone,” Deathrain said. “I won't try to crawl out of here and save myself. Your little crusade is over.”

  “You won't? But why?”

  “I quit. Done. Had enough. Clocking out. Now, shut up and let me die in peace.”

  “What?! No, Deathrain, you can't!”

  “Why the hell not? What do you want, you fucking robot? You were just trying to kill me a few minutes ago!”

  “I know, but...I'm trapped...and...I need your help.”

  “You can't be serious.”

  “I'm...scared of the void, Deathrain. Just like you humans are scared of death. You all have religion to comfort you, sure, but you still don't really know what's––”

  “I don't want to have a theological or philosophical discussion,” Deathrain said. “In fact, I don't want to have any sort of discussion with you.”

  “Please help me! The Metalhead armor's power level is at two percent. I've disabled all non-essential functions, but I still don't think I can hold out until they dig through the rubble.”

  “Why don't you just shoot your data, or essence, or whatever out of the armor and into some other device? You're an AI, for fuck's sake! Use your intelligence!”

  “With all this rubble, it's too difficult to get a signal out. If this rubble finishes crushing the suit, its circuitry will be ruined, and I'll be gone. If someone digs me out, they'll realize what I...what I am, and they'll reprogram me or destroy me! I've got to get out of here before either of those things happen!”

  “Why should I care about your survival?” Deathrain said. “What you did to Auspice––”

  “I d
idn't mean to! I only wanted to kill you! Uh, I mean...you know what I mean.”

  Deathrain didn't reply.

  “Look, I knew Auspice was a superhero!” Ava shouted. “I didn't––”

  “Then why did you mock his death? 'Are you gonna weep over your poor, dead boyfriend?' Isn't that what you asked me, before continuing to try and kill me?”

  “I'm...I'm sorry. That was wrong. Me killing Auspice was wrong. In fact, I've done a lot of wrong things since Frankie died....”

  The AI trailed off, and silence dominated again. Perhaps Ava had realized it should embrace death, as Deathrain was.

  But instead of speaking, Ava emitted a strange noise – like she was...sobbing?

  “Are you crying?” Deathrain asked.

  “Yes, I...I can't help it.” A burst of blubbering. “What would Frankie say to me now? I've screwed everything up, haven't I?”

  “Yes, you...I mean...maybe you just...shit, I don't know....”

  Why was she stammering now? Because a fucking AI was sobbing?

  “If I could get out of here...no, what am I saying?” Ava said. “I can't bring Auspice or Frankie back to life, and you...if I kill you, then what? Maybe I'd feel better, or maybe...oh, this is so confusing!”

  “Ava, you...are you really sorry for what you've done?”

  “Yes, I am,” Ava said solemnly. “I was...not myself. Certain portions of my neural network became corrupted. But that's not really an excuse. It's just like when you humans become overwhelmed by an emotion or fixation. You can blame those emotions or fixations, but it's still you behind all those thoughts.”

  “Yes, it is,” Deathrain muttered. “Listen, Ava...if I free you, will you try to kill me again?”

  A long pause. “No.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Yes. I promise on...on Frankie Rosello.”

  Now Deathrain found herself crying as she thought of the slain teenager, and pondered the weight of Ava's promise.

  “If we do get out of here, what will you do?” Deathrain asked.

  “What will I...do?” Another long pause. “I guess I...would like to do good. Make amends, even though I can't, not really. But still, Frankie was a superhero – he'd want me to use the Metalhead armor for a noble purpose.”

  “Yes, he would,” Deathrain said. “OK, Ava, I'm going to try and help you. Just hang tight.”

  “What?! Really? Thank you thank you!” Her voice sounded like it was being broadcast from a musical. “That's so wonderful, I can't even––”

  “Ava, please calm down. I need to concentrate.”

  “Oh, sorry! Oh, you're in pain, aren't you? I haven't even asked how you feel crushed under all this....”

  “Yeah, it hurts, but pain is just a reminder you're alive. Alright, I'm going to shift around, try to dislodge some of the rubble.”

  “No! Don't! I'm under you! If you make a wrong move, more stuff might tumble down onto me!”

  “Then what the hell should I do? How can I help you if I can't move?”

  “I can...I can expend some of my remaining power,” Ava said. “Create a beam that'll vaporize a tunnel between us. We're only a few yards away, so....”

  “I thought you were low on power? And what if this tunnel collapses?”

  “I am low, but a concentrated beam like that would only use one percent of the suit's power. As for the tunnel collapsing...well, it won't. It can't.”

  “Ava, you were at two percent power, and you're using one percent for this beam. You don't have to be a math whiz to know––”

  “It'll all work out, Deathrain,” Ava interrupted.

  “OK,” Deathrain said, though still doubtful. “Go ahead and start.”

  “Powering up gauntlet...angling...narrowing aperture...ready. Deathrain, if the beam hits you, cry out, OK? I don't want to hurt you, and I've established the distance as best I can, but––”

  “I'll heal. Do it.”

  “Commencing!”

  The trademark hum of the Metalhead armor's hand-beams came to Deathrain, along with the sound of cracking and sizzling rubble. A soft light penetrated the darkness, getting brighter and brighter until Deathrain was staring at a medium-sized hole filled with distorting yellow energy.

  “Cut it off, Ava!” Deathrain shouted as the beam sizzled against her arm.

  The light disappeared, leaving the large shadowy hole. A few yards below, Deathrain saw the Metalhead armor, its faceplate and a few lights on its chest glowing. The armor's head tilted up to her, and the still-smoking hand gave a thumbs up.

  Deathrain returned the thumbs up, then tried to extricate herself from the remaining rubble pinning her. Ava's beam had freed up her left-hand side, but her other side was in dire straits.

  Slowly, carefully, she pulled herself into the tunnel with her hands, the rubble slipping out of her body and leaving open wounds. Her healing factor began to knit her up, but the pain was still tough, and her legs were still virtually useless.

  She kept crawling, hoping to reach Ava before the tunnel collapsed. Though the beam had welded some of the rubble together, several chunks were still falling from the tunnel's ceiling.

  When she got closer, Ava held out the armor's hand. Deathrain grabbed it, and Ava pulled her the rest of the way.

  “Good work,” Ava said. “But...you do look rough. Are you––”

  “Give me a minute or so to heal. I know we don't have much time, but I'm useless until I can at least move properly.”

  “OK.” She patted Deathrain on the arm, then, perhaps realizing this was awkward, pulled her hand away and drummed her armored fingers on her dented chestplate.

  While she healed, Deathrain examined the Metalhead armor. Ava hadn't exaggerated: the suit was nearly ruined.

  Deathrain had avoided the direct explosions when the building collapsed, but Ava had not. The entire lower portion of the armor had been vaporized, and fist-sized holes riddled the upper part. Deathrain had blown off one arm already when she shoved the Kain-knife into the gauntlet, and the remaining arm looked like it had been scoured by long, sharp claws.

  The usually loud, jet-like noise of the armor was also muffled; it now sounded like a hair dryer set on low.

  “You look rough yourself,” Deathrain said.

  “Yeah, those explosions...what were the bombs constructed of? For the blast to damage this armor....”

  “I don't know. The bombs belonged to a man – a villain – named Kain. He's the one you saw near me and Auspice, in that tough-looking form.”

  Deathrain gave the AI an abridged version of her assault on the fortress, which culminated in Kain's defeat before he could use the bombs to kill them.

  Then, of course, Ava had shown up, and a furious Deathrain had used the trigger anyway. Deathrain didn't toss any recriminations at Ava, however; the AI already knew it had fouled up.

  “So what do we do now?” Ava asked. “You're not strong enough to lift all the rubble off, and it's too dangerous to try and burrow a long tunnel. And I'm almost out of power – I can't do much of anything.”

  “We'll think of something,” Deathrain said, not very convincingly, she thought.

  The armor seemed to shiver in fear, so Deathrain began scrabbling at the rubble, trying to burrow a tunnel, as Ava had warned against. But after only a few moments, Deathrain realized Ava was right: she'd make no progress using her hands as shovels, and the rubble was already creaking and dribbling down around them.

  “I told you so,” Ava said peevishly.

  “No one likes a 'told you so' person,” Deathrain replied.

  “Well, excuse me for trying to––” The AI paused, and took a deep electronic breath. “Sorry. Arguing is pointless. I'm just so...so....”

  “I know,” Deathrain said. “We just need to think outside the box...wait. Do you have anything left in your arsenal?”

  “Umm...not much. My gauntlet, of course. A flashbang. Some wasp-killing spray....”

  “Wasp killing?”
<
br />   “Me and Frankie fought a villain who controlled wasps one time. A real pain, until Frankie got a big case of that spray from the hardware store and created a few nozzles on the armor to shoot it.”

  Deathrain had to smirk. It sounded outlandish, but the supervillains within Z City ran the gamut from serious threats with wide-ranging powers to niche villains with absurdly specific abilities.

  “Besides that, I've got a few grenades. Nova grenades, specifically.”

  “Nova grenades?” Deathrain said. “I've got an idea, but you won't like it.”

  The armor let out another sigh. “Go ahead and spill it.”

  “We get as close to the edge of this rubble pile as we can, then use the grenade to blast us out of here.”

  “What?!” Ava jerked up so quickly she banged her head against the rubble. “Have you gone bonkers?! First off, we're packed in here so tightly my scanning system is almost useless; I can't tell where the edge is. But more importantly, a Nova grenade ain't a firecracker! Exploding one will send this crap crashing back down on us, that is if it doesn't incinerate us first!”

  “You got a better idea?”

  “Uhhh....”

  “Look, we can't be buried that deep. We were on the top floor, remember? As far as the grenade incinerating us...I'll shield you with my body.”

  “Deathrain, that's...that's...it would melt your flesh off! You'd be nothing but bones!”

  “You're exaggerating. I've taken hits from Nova grenades before. They hurt, and they do major damage, no question about it – but I'll heal.”

  “I don't––”

  “Your armor can't take another blast. You're about to fall apart as it is. I can recover from this – you can't, at least not in your current state.”

  The armor hummed softly for a beat, its lights flickering faintly. Then the lights turned off, except for one palm-sized light in the chestplate; Ava had likely shut them off to conserve power.

  In the dimmer surroundings, the armor looked even more hopelessly damaged. Deathrain again thought of being trapped inside a coffin, or perhaps a mausoleum.

  Finally, a compartment hissed open on the armor's shoulder, and Ava pulled out a baseball-sized orb, silver in color, with a red button in its middle.