Deicide the God Eater
The Sixth Chapter

I’ve never seen somebody so determined to burn a bridge theyhappened to be standing on. - BrigadierGeneral Cari Rein.

Fawn’s world was silent when she removedher antler communication device. Shewashed her face, cleaned her neck and around the smooth metal discs where herears would have been, had she not had them removed some years earlier. These discs were mounting brackets for theantler devices, equipment which soldiers were required to wear at alltimes. This specific brand was gruelingto wear on the ears, even with the most comfortable gel inserts. All unmodified devices were prone to fallingoff even in a slight skirmish. Thedecision had been completely rational to Fawn; the outer ear was totallyaesthetic to her culture, she had never met a human who did not wear antlers,at least one that she was not pointing a rifle at.

She replaced her set and both sides snappedinto place, it gave her a minute buzz when it had finished booting and linkedwith the network. Fawn watched as Lechweshuffled behind her in the mirror. Shegrumbled a greeting as she entered one of the stalls and Fawn mumbledback. Growing up in a militarizedsociety had done nothing to change Fawn’s perception of the eternally wickedbeast known as morning. She had wantedto tell the women of the horrors which see had seen last night, but Fawn wasthe fireteam leader, what purpose would it serve to rattle their confidence inher? As always, she would have to bereticent of divulging any concerns involving of her mental ‘illness’, that is,if she wanted to avoid being locked away again. Even now she winced when she recalled the dark, blue halls of the NavalInstitute of Mental Health. It was therethat she had begun to open the doors to this other world, one that lay betweendimensions perfectly like her own. Inthis massive dark partition were where the words came from, spoken in longwhispers before they had ever become intense screeches. Then the shadows had come, then the fractals,beings that were there, but not, their bodies lacking presence as they wentabout their unseen work.

Fawn returned to her room to replace Flechetteawake and fully dressed. She waslistening to the news as she looked over her rifle, the firing pin sat next toher. The woman briefly looked up to nodat Fawn then returned to her work. Thenewscast was blaring numbers to skew perceptions about the war and keep moralup, but anyone who had actually set boots on the ground knew exactly what thescore was. Fawn glanced around the room and saw that Chital was still ablanketed lump in her rack. She reachedover with her foot and used her leg like a javelin.

“What?” she said, mumbling from beneath thecovers.

“Up,” Fawn said, feeling an annoyance that onlycomes when one must be up while others still slept.

“Ugh.” Chital said; emerging from the nest of gray Army blankets she hadmade. She snatched her toiletry bag andwalked out the room like a zombie. Fawnreturned to her things, and looked down at the single sea bag that was herlife, full of equipment and uniforms the military had issued to her; items theycould easily take away. She sat on herbed and twirled her pink hair that was in a single thick braid. Other than a couple of styles Fawn could notremember keeping it any other way. Lechwe had tied purple ribbons at the ends of all of the women’s hair, alittle reminder from her that it was still acceptable to enjoy cutethings. Lechwe was the only one of themthat seemed to be desperately holding on to the fact that they were stillwomen. Fawn liked the thought, but knewthat it was not true for her. In her ownmind, Fawn was not a woman at all, but a terrible wolf maiden; only allowed toroam because of the desperate circumstances her nation had been thrustinto. The State had no love for her, andeven with her aunt’s influence would lock her away until they needed the killerin her once more.

Fawn snapped out of her trance and sawLechwe and Chital shoving their double-socked feet into boots, she put on herurban fatigued top and began to roll up her sleeves. It was an old shirt and the fold creases werealready well worn into the sleeves. Thewomen finished putting on their gear and headed down stairs. They humped across the quarterdeck and outthe side door to the mess hall. Insidewere scores of bleary eyed female recruits, sauntering around with trays fullof overcooked, diced omelets that the cooks called scrambled eggs, cold sausagelinks and fossil-like potato slices. Thewomen grabbed trays and shoveled the breakfast into the same spaces they hadevery morning since they were children. Fawn cut the line for eggs and thrust her tray toward a CulinarySpecialist, who then dumped whatever egg dish she was making onto the largestsection of her tray, teaching the girls who were just skipped a valuable lesson. Eggs are eggs, and the non-picky always eatfirst. The women sat down at a tablethat was not infested by little girls and began to shovel food into theirmouths, adding ketchup, hot sauce, salt and pepper to everything they knewwould not be edible on its own.

There they were; sipping bad coffee waitingfor time to pass, when the table was approached by girls with yellow ribbons,one of them was the girl on watch Fawn had spoken to the day before. The girls tied yellow ribbons just above ofthe purple ones Lechwe had added yesterday; then gave each of the women a hug.

“Aww, thank you,” Lechwe said, covering hermouth.

“I guess the little fuckers ain’t all bad,”Fawn said, as the girls moved to other tables with veterans shipping out. Flechette was unmoved by the gesture; thecoal haired woman had her tiny arms folded tightly and her chin on her chest.

Chital scooted away from Flechette. “Mighty chilly over here,” Chital said.

“If we were actually ending this, thenfine. But we’re not. Those girls are going to grow up to be us,dodging the same bullets, from the same guns that we are,” Flechette said. No one dared to speak after such a bitingrant. Fawn knew she was right, they allhad seen a couple of campaigns together, but Fawn and Flechette were a few yearsolder than their comrades. They both hadbeen child soldiers under Margrave Würgegriff von Brachland, a blood thirstynoble that had always demanded victory at all costs. And it had cost him his life, along with countlessothers and the innocence of his nation’s children. His widow seemed just as determined andbloody thirsty in her own campaign. Fortheir losses, those fighting had received a chest gripping dose of survivorguilt and restless nights until they met their ends.

Fawn checked her watch, then hopped up andhad another swallow of coffee, before hefting her sea bag and heading to thearmory. There she checked out theproduct of her parents’ life’s work, a Protean Instrument, called the ToyBox. Like a Swiss Army Knife, thisweapon held a multitude of functions, such as a machine gun, laser saw,battering ram, and a semi-personal shield. Though this weapon thrived in urban combat, a terrain the women of theWidow’s Retort constantly found themselves, the weapon had not been massed produced. Hirsch and Doe, Fawn’s parents, had designeddozens of other weapons and armor for the military before their passing, eventhe E.P. Rifle used by Flechette and all army snipers, but the heavy brass feltthe Toy Box was an expensive, convoluted, mess. Fawn was even required special permissions to be able to use it as herprimary weapon. Many could easily seewhy opinions of the weapon were so negative; it seemed to be solely designed tocomplement Fawn and her impressive physique. It was uncomfortable and awkward to hold in just about every formationto a person that was not her exact dimensions, as well as being excruciatinglyheavy without the hovering actuators online. Even when they were, the Protean Formation system was activated byphysical movements and gestures to save power, seen by the unenlightened aswild swinging, jerking and slamming the instrument against the walls or deck.

Fawn lifted her weapon and stepped to theside to sign it away. She was handed amedley of ammo, she loaded the weapon with machine gun rounds, grenades of alltypes, including white phosphorous, nitrogen and gasoline for the flamethrower,and fuel cells for the laser saw and the hovering actuators. Flechette had once mused out loud on howlittle the Army thought of them to let Fawn run about with a bomb on hershoulders. Fawn turned on the actuatorsand the weapon began to hover at the height she had designated, always likingto keep it just above her waist. Theyall walked back to the quarterdeck, saluting the flag once more before pilinginto a transport vehicle filled with shouting and singing women, hypingthemselves up for the hell that was to come.

The truck lurched forward along the emptyroads releasing them from the confines of the base, and into the desolatestreets lightly sprinkled with gray slush, that matched the sky above. The women’s singing was terrible; but it wasnice to have a group of lively sisters for once, instead of the usual funeralprocessions. It could mean that thesewomen were veterans who no longer flinched, even on the first artillery shellof an attack or booters who had never felt a hot round pierce their comfortbubble and graze their cheek, either way Fawn preferred their mood. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip,the women swayed against one another as the truck swerved in and out of thelane. Any schmuck was allowed to drivenow, as the only traffic ever on the road was a couple of buses that ran intothe city a few times a day and the transport trucks moving personnel betweenthe bases.

After some time everyone had stoppedsinging and a few of the older women who knew better closed their eyes andtried to squeeze out a few more moments of sleep. Fawn wanted to, but sleeping during the dayalways brought her back to thoughts of her brother, Alpha; or worse, the hyperreality she had witnessed on and off her entire life. She was also unsure if she would be visitedonce again, no one could tell her what she had saw the night before was adream. She refused to sleep after ithappened; she waited until daybreak and watched as her roommates crawled out oftheir racks slowly, zombie-like, but none of them were corpses. She looked over to Flechette; her dark eyeswere listless as she hugged her rifle like a teddy bear. Then Fawn noticed that she was doing the sameto the Toy Box, it was just as much a friend to her as the women she had spentso much of her life with.

The truck finally stopped inside the gatesof Fort Lariat, the women quickly hopped out and headed into the hanger for thein-brief. As Fawn made her way up thehill, she walked past a group of women who were rotating out of the field. Their faces were slacked and grimy, withuniforms so filthy you could not read their name tapes, and their boots lookedlike someone had worked them over with a weed whacker. Fawn nodded to them, knowing exactly how theyfelt, it would be more than a few hot showers and quiet nights before they wereright again. Some never would be. She grabbed a bottle of water from theCorpsman station and saw her Aunt Cari heading toward her. Fawn gritted her teeth, then popped the capon the bottle and chugged it down to hide her uneasiness. The Brigadier General had her once hot pinkhair tied back into a now tea rose bun. She motioned for Fawn to follow her into her office. Inside Fawn deactivated the Toy Box’sactuators and the weapon lowered slowly to the floor. She tossed her sea bag in a corner anddropped down into a chair, only to hop back up when she saw the steam comingout of the coffee maker. Fawn closed hereyes as she tasted the first sip, then threw in a single Irish Cream andreturned to her seat.

“So, how’ve you been?” Cari said, rockingslowly in her chair.

Fawn nearly snarled. “I’m going to the front. How am I supposed to be?” Fawn said, taking a swig of coffee.

“I meant your little temper problem. Are you taking your pills?” Cari said. But they both knew it had nothing to do with her temper. She just wanted those things away from her.

“I’m fine. Those pills don’t do anything, except make me appreciate theverticalness of the walls,” Fawn said.

“Are you getting better though?” Cari said.

“I’m fine. Any word on Alpha?” Fawn said.

“You know you’d be the first person Itold,” Cari said.

“I know. It’s just…,” Fawn said. Then shesighed when she saw a picture of her family on her aunt’s desk.

“You’re supposed to miss the ones youlove. Wherever he is I’m sure he’smissing us. He’s strong, just like hisbig sister; he’ll replace a way to survive,” Cari said.

“Yeah,” Fawn said, putting down the emptycup.

The Brigadier General leaned back in herchair. “I wanted to ask you something,”she said.

“What?” Fawn said.

“Your PRD is coming up. I can make this your last tour; won’t have tobe out there in the shit anymore.” Cari said.

“Sounds nice, but I’m not good at anythingelse,” Fawn said.

“Bullshit. You’re good at everything. Youjust let these pinheads piss you off too easy,” Cari said. Fawn looked down to the floor, placing herelbows on her knees.

“I’m not saying you have to put up witheveryone’s shit, but this is the military Fawna, it wouldn’t work if we justbeat up every private and JO we had a problem with. Hell, you think I don’t want knock a fewskulls around?” Cari said, leaning in a bit closer, speaking a bit softer. “You think I haven’t knocked a few skullsaround?”

Fawn chuckled. “Maybe that’s where I get it from,” she said.

The old woman sighed. “Maybe…maybe. You know your mother was always the nice one,” Cari said.

“Oh yeah?” Fawn said.

“Yeeaahh. That’s the only reason your parents got together. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings,” Carisaid. Both of them laughed.

“Well. Come on. We got to be at thisdamned brief,” Cari said, getting up.

“It’s not like it’s gonna start withoutyou,” Fawn said.

“One of the hardest parts of being the bossmy darling; is pretending you give a shit,” Cari said.

Fawn bumped and nudged her way to thepurple hill she knew to be Lechwe, Flechette turned and shot Fawn a quizzingglance. Fawn shrugged and leaned againstthe back wall.

“Attention on deck,” someone cried,snapping everyone to attention.

“Easy everyone,” Cari said, causingeveryone to relax. “Let’s make this aquick one, eh. I’m sure our ladies inthe 209th want to wash out the war that’s being waged on theirscalps,” she said; the quip got a few chuckles. A hard jawed woman began the presentation, a digital map glowed behindher, on it, the city of Lull. It was the203rd’s mission, along with their allies the 17th ArmoredDivision, to clear out their designated sector of the city as well as beat backany enemies they came across. MargravineCrocotta was set in her ways, refusing to give any territory gained no matterhow much it cost them to defend it.

Fawn looked over to the tank divisionacross the room, thinking of how nice it would be to ride in style for once,instead of humping across that blazing cracked highway that separated them fromthe front. Many of the women on the tankcrews were a crass and surly bunch, but Fawn was sure she could charm one ofthem. The rest of the brief droned onabout proper procedures for clearing buildings and engaging the enemy. Fawn understood why the Army had to tell themthis every time, but most of the materials were things you learned on the busride to Infantry School. She knew shecould clear a room with her eyes closed, because she had. It was an embarrassing event that involved anill-equipped enemy and his bastard tabasco sauce she had been trying to forgetfor years.

When the brief let out, Fawn hugged heraunt goodbye and quickly made her way to the transport ship. The cargo bay was noisy, crowded and alreadyhot. A burly woman tapped Fawn on theshoulder and she handed her gear off to be laced securely with the rest of theequipment. Fortunately, the tanks werealready loaded and she did not have to wait long before they took off. During their ride over sleep wasimpossible. Even when Fawn turned herantlers off she still was helpless against the jarring rattle of the ship. The ship landed on an airstrip apart of amakeshift base, the massive transport rumbled against the dirt airfield untilit came to a stop. Everyone hurried outand watched the tanks pull out soon after. In the distance Fawn could see that the rest of the Armored Division wasabout to move out, she could see the waves of heat rising off of each unit. It would be a hot one, the light reflectedfrom the bleached sand was blinding.

Fawn’s fire team posted on her and checkedthe gear they had brought, their sea bags in lockers back at Fort Lariat.

“So are we walking or what?” Chital said;her face already red from the heat.

“Fuck that,” Lechwe said, fanning herself,then Chital. “Fawn what’s up?”

“Hold up,” Fawn said, rushing over to atank crew, a rare smile was forcing its way to the front of her face.

“Oh shit,” a red headed woman said, hernametape said Gazelle. She was a veryanimated woman; she had a cigarette in her hand which never quite made it toher mouth, even after she had managed to light it.

“What’s up?” Fawn said, shaking hands withthe woman.

“Livin’ the dream. I ain’t seen you in a minute Dearborne,” Gazellesaid.

“Yeah,” Fawn said, rubbing the back of herneck.

“What they got you doin’ now?” Gazelle said.

“Heavy Infantry,” Fawn said.

“God damn Dearborne, you’re a partycrasher? You must like getting’ shot at,huh?” Gazelle said.

“Can we ride with your girls?” Fawn said.

“Hell yeah. Umm, that lil’ creepy one over there one of yours?” Gazelle said.

“Flech? She’s cool, known her since I was a kid,” Fawn said.

“Ooh. She look like her Baby Daddy paid child support in coupons,” Gazelle said.

“That’s as much as she’s gonna smilethough,” Fawn said, waving over her fire team.

Gazelle finally had almost put thecigarette to her lips. “She’s smiling?” Gazellesaid, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she’s a good shooter though,” Fawnsaid. They tossed their packs up andclimbed onboard, Fawn and Lechwe sat on the front tread guards which shieldedthe locomotion and Chital and Flech took the back two. The two women on the tank crew disappearedinside and Gazelle’s head poked out behind the machine gun turret. The woman opened a separate channel on theirantlers so they could speak to each other without screaming. Then they rumbled forward, joining thecaravan of tanks heading across the blasted highway. Fawn adjusted her helmet once more andsecurely fastened it to her antlers, then brought down her visor and signaledfor everyone else to do so. These actedas polarized sunglasses, Night Vision, Thermal and a simple HUD, which toldthem where hidden friendlies were, exact ranges of targets, and alternateroutes to waypoints. Flechette’s HUD wasa bit more complex, it was linked to her rifle, the Penny Black and it showedprojected points where a target would end up if moving, automatically adjustingitself if the target changed speed or direction. This feature had been left out of a standardsoldiers’ load out, because without an extremely accurate weapon and exemplarymarksmanship the extra information was worthless.

“Hey Fawn, remember that girl that tried tokill herself with a spork in boot camp?” Gazelle said.

“Yeah, yeah. Dumb fuck. What was her name? Hare?” Fawnsaid.

Gazelle rotated the machine gun turret in acomplete circle. “Yep. Yep. Yep,” Gazelle said. “You know she’s still in, right?” Fawn turned back to look at the woman.

“You’re shitting me?” Fawn said.

“Nope. She works in supply. Her NCO’scan’t stand her,” Gazelle said.

“Are we really hurting that bad now?” Lechwesaid.

“We been hurting that bad. It’s probably worse now. They’ll take anybody, even crazies and junkies,”Gazelle said. Fawn nodded, knowing onlyFlechette knew anything about the time she had spent under psychiatric care. It was where they had met, as girls, thoughFlechette had her own problems she had taken time to help Fawn acclimate to thehorrible conditions of the facility. When Fawn had asked if Flechette had seen the fractals, heard theirpropositions, a younger Flechette had replied: I don’t understand how anyone can not see them, not hear them.

The city of Lull was directly before them,waves of heat ascended from the sand swept roads, distorting the image of thesteel and concrete erections jutting from the golden desert in thedistance. By the time the women hadpushed more than a few miles into the ravaged metropolis, the gritty claws ofthis sandy void would have scraped every inch of them; all of it wasinevitable, necks and feet rubbed raw by parched collars and mummified socks;those who had been here could not forget this grainy, chomping cleft that bled moisturefrom every guarded breath. The thoughtinstantly made Fawn thirsty, she curled her lips toward the grimy straw juttingfrom her helmet and took a small sip, swirling the tepid, stale fluid aroundher mouth before swallowing.

The caravan slowed as they came to thesurrounding suburbs of the city, scorched and crumpled cars still in thedriveways, roofs of houses collapsed, front doors still open, if not torn fromthe hinges, many only had time to flee with what they could on their way out. A weathered high heel of a woman’s shoeallowed the viewer to see just how sudden the incident had been. The attacks had more than likely happenedwhen many were arriving home, most had never gotten even a few moments to shakeoff the stress procured earlier that day, apologize to the wife and pick up thekids.

Homes left intact were done up in stylesgrossly out of date, vehicle models that had been retired decades ago, even totheir grandparents this war was old. Thetanks moved along easily, a few small craters in the road still left room tomaneuver around them. Fawn’s purple eyesnarrowed as they passed the first set of skyscrapers, pockmarked and torn openfrom airstrikes and artillery called away long ago, those that had sent downthe order, dead, most likely never having witnessed the carnage of theirlegacies. Fawn gazed up into the luridrecess of an office building, knowing that death was glaring back at her. She turned to Flechette, knowing the steel-eyedwoman had seen the same thing.

As Fawn gazed back to the shadowed holeabove, she thought she saw the figure that had visited her the night before,Long Arms. She zoomed in on the areawith her visor; surely he was there performing maintenance on his great guns. Her visor told her there had been nothingthere and yet it had detected movement. She turned slightly to Flechette and began to open her mouth, but thenthought better. To start a patrol off byclaiming to be seeing vanishing people, let alone men, would not be good forher command or her career, even though she had nowhere else to fall.

They rolled through a long emptyintersection, lights extinguished and street signs twisted and gnarled like theroots of some ancient tree. Concretedust and splintered glass lay on the street like freshly fallen snow, shadowsinside of windowless storefronts hid abominations that could only be perceivedby their noses. Fawn and the other womenbrought up their scarves to cover their faces, behind her own Fawn rubbed hertongue over her teeth. How could therestill be fresh death here, had the front been pushed back this far?

Fawn’s body jerked as the tank trudgedalong the battered road, she could see by the markers ahead that they were almostto the sector they were supposed to be clearing, known as cleaning to her AuntCari, but Fawn never minced words when it came to her work. They were here to murder anyone with a golduniform, surrender or not, men or not, the courtesies lent to enemy soldiers inthe past had been spit on by the Golden Fossas’ list of war crimes. Even after the war Fawn could never share abeer with a Fossa even if they picked up the tab.

“Alright girls here we are, time to knockon some doors,” Gazelle said. All of thetank gunners began to pan their barrels at the darkened windows of the guttedbuildings.

Fawn hopped off the tank and activated theactuators on the Toy Box. Her fire teamfollowed as did everyone in her squad; their faces were emotionless stone masks. Already the other squad leaders were rushinginto buildings further back. Fawn jerkedher head back and her squad posted on her. She gave them their orders, which they nodded back in agreement; theyhad already gotten over Fawn’s incessant need to take point. The woman seemed to enjoy gambling with herlife, taking point into every building. Her bravado had gained her notoriety for being slightly crazy andinsanely lucky. The odds of being shotdown or blown up by being the first to breech were high, yet Fawn lived on, scratchedand bruised, but alive.

With an expert movement Fawn jerked the ToyBox upward and then rotated it, so that it would hit the ground vertically onits left side, indicated by a black square tip. The machine broke apart and then snapped itself together again into theform of a battering ram. She then set itto transform into a close quarters battle rifle immediately after impact.

The women stacked against the walls of thebuilding on either side of the entrance, with Fawn’s fireteam closest toit. Fawn nodded once and the other teamleaders nodded back. Fawn’s focus becameamazingly sharp, she had pushed out all thoughts of what could be on the otherside of the door, only that it was already dead and she had killed it. She allowed a heavy, stale breath to escape fromher parched lips, and then swung the instrument full force into the barricadeddoor. The door and the furniture behindit splintered to prickly dust as the pressurized air escaped from the devicewith a monstrous hiss. Just as it wasdesigned to do, the Toy Box immediately converted to a battle rifle and Fawncharged in from the momentum still carrying her, her visor set to Thermal. They swept the room quickly, replaceing nothing,but someone had been there, used cooking utensils were scattered about, thewindows had been covered and a few wrinkled porno magazines were sitting in thecorner.

Slowly they crept towards the stairs; thenFawn gave the signal to halt. She suckedin a few quick breaths of sour air to get her blood up and pinched her nostrilsquickly. She knew that someone up therewanted to taste her blood and the thought enraged her, but was she alone in heranger? What lesser would have the gallto strike out against her? And how couldshe, or rather, they, respect any lesser that submitted to the boot? Surrendergarnered nothing but contempt.

A bitter taste filled her mouth as hersaliva glands worked and her gums began to swell, the grip she had on herweapon was made of steel. Then shenodded and charged up the stairs, with her eyes barely level with the floor,her mind began to plan out her next steps. They were at the end of a long dark gallery. With her left hand, she held up two fingers,then three and pointed to the deck behind. Immediately Lechwe and Chital got into position behind her, theirbarrels aimed down the hall.

She then held four fingers and Flechetteposted with the Penny Black aimed just inward of the wall. The other soldiers looked puzzled, thenunderstood as they saw Fawn stand before the back entrance of the office. When her signal came Flechette fired the E.P.Rifle, tearing through every room and out of the building, and then Fawncharged the office. Finding two mensplit in half on the other side, Fawn strafed behind a dusty boardroomtable. Then she heard Lechwe and Chitalfiring, the others who had been missed by the shot had run into thehallway. She crept closer to an opendoor on the other side of the room, and then fired a stitch through the wallbefore entering, a man with an axe collapsed behind the entrance.

From behind a desk, a knife wielding woman dovetoward Fawn, pressing her against the wall. She was in a tattered Fossa uniform, her face covered in grime and warpaint. She brought the knife down nextto Fawn’s head just missing her antlers. Fawn pushed her away, she grabbed the close-quarters handle of the ToyBox and the weapon dropped like a stone, leaving her with the smaller unit. The stock folded into place and Fawn sprayedthe woman, leaving hot brass twisting on the floor. Machinegun fire sent Fawn sprawling againstthe deck. She stuck the handheld backinto the Toy Box, instantly reloading it. Another volley of machinegun fire thumped against the walls, leaving rottedwood chips and plaster sprinkled about the room. She could hear voices on the other side ofthe wall, but could not make out their plans. She glanced around the room, and then whispered into the antler microphoneafter the shooting had stopped.

“Move up,” Fawn said. Soon as she had said it, the bookcase fellover onto the desk she was hiding behind, just missing her head. Two women came from behind it and before Fawncould raise her weapon a woman fired her sidearm directly at her. Fawn could see the hammer pulling back andthe slide move across the barrel, even heard the spring being squeezed insidethe weapon, taking all the time in the world. She waited an eternity for that spinning bullet to come out of thatrifled barrel, but it was tardy. Thenthe two women collapsed and sheturned around to see Lechwe, holding her rifle confidently, the bore of the gunseemed bigger than her head. She lookedback to the women who were dead behind the desk, both nearly ripped in half fromLechwe’s machine gun. Then Fawn lookedat the dead woman’s gun and where it had been fired. The bullet had fallen to the floor, its noseflattened and warped; there had nothing to shield her from it, no time toactivate the shield on the Toy Box. The barrelof the dead woman’s gun was still smoking.

“What’s up?” Flechette said, hefting therifle that was larger than her.

“I don’t know,” Fawn said, looking at thehole in the ground. She was unsure howshe had not been struck down; the aim of the gun that fired was true. She picked up the bullet and rolled itbetween her fingers, condensation moistened her fingertips.

“All clear here, Sarge. They’re checking the Penthouse now,” a womansaid.

“Yeah,” Fawn said.

Fawn headed up to the Penthouse, it wasperceived to be clear until a blanket hung against the windows shifted. Fawn sniffed and fired a stitch into it. Thebrown service blanket of the Fossas poured blood out from underneath it. Lechwe tore the blanket away to replace adisheveled, dying Fossa behind it; he was twitching and trembling as if he wasfighting the freezing cold. He collapsedfrom the window frame onto the deck; then Lechwe grabbed her sidearm and fireda single round into his skull, emptying it onto the weathered hardwoodfloor. Then the rest of the women turnedaway without any more thought to it, as if someone had crushed a roachunderfoot a little too loudly. Theycrept towards the boarded and blanketed windows, wary of snipers. Fawn turned back towards Flechette, her paleskin, made her look ghostly amongst the brown skinned and tanned women.

“This good for you?” Fawn said. It was her squad’s turn to provide a sniperfor over watch. Flechette looked aroundthe room and nodded. Fawn then addressedthe rest of her squad and they followed her to the entrance.

As Fawn approached the door sheshouted. “We’re comin’ out. We got eyes on the position I’m sending toyou,” Fawn said. She took out a smalltouch screen keypad and punched in the coordinates of the building, then routedthe data to every soldier in the 203rd, all their allies in thearea, as well as their Command. Fawnheaded out into the street as other soldiers scurried by. She found Gazelle and the rest of her crewgawking at the porno magazines found inside. Fawn reached in her pocket and pulled out a stick of gum, flicking thewrapper away and joining the tank crew.

“Any good?” Fawn said, leaning against thetank.

“These two suck. Bunch of male-ego shit. The all-female’s, alright. I don’t know if that’s your thing, yet,” Gazellesaid.

“Yet?” Fawn said, elbows hiked by hershoulders against the tank.

“Ain’t no sense in wantin’ somethin’ thatain’t there, Dearborne. At least outhere anyway. Prince Charming’s got thekeys to the ride now. And he drives likeshit, because he can,” Gazelle said.

Fawn sighed.“Yeah. I just can’t help what I like,you know. I’m not knocking you,” Fawnsaid.

“I know, Iknow. I hope you replace your Prince,” Gazellesaid.