MetaWars: Fight For The Future

Chapter 37

It had taken Jonah an age to fly back to his exit halo. He felt much slower in his regained humatar than he had in his father’s dragon form.

At last, however, he saw it before him, its glow reflected in the sea below.

Jonah took one last look over his shoulder, but could no longer see the Island of the Uploaded through the mist that had closed back in around it. He dived through his exit halo, and his mind began the process of readjustment to the real world.

In those few dreamlike seconds, he thought he could hear gunfire.

It came as a shock to him to realise the sounds were real.

The two lifts pinged, almost in unison. They had reached this floor.

The other Guardians – those still conscious – were struggling on hands and knees, crawling behind wooden crates for cover. Sam took a final breath, held it, discarded her handkerchief and raised her pistol.

Millennials swarmed out of each of the lifts. They were wearing gas masks.

Mindful of the fate of those who had come before them, they were already firing. Their bullets sprayed across the room, ricocheting off the walls, punching holes through the crates.

The Guardians had one advantage. The haze of green gas helped to conceal them – but they knew where the Millennials were. As a handful of Guardians found the strength to fire back, the Millennials scattered.

In his haste, one of them stumbled over Sam. Sam tugged at his ankle, brought him down beside her. She wrenched the gas mask from his face, jammed it over her own, but had no time to don it properly. She gulped in two breaths of sweet, filtered air, then dropped the mask as the Millennial wrestled with her.

He was trying to bring his rifle to bear. Sam took hold of the barrel, wrenched it upwards. The Millennial, choking on the gas, fired into the ceiling. Almost by chance, his flailing boot kicked Sam in the stomach, forcing the clean air from her lungs.

The two of them lunged for the gas mask at once.

Sam was the first to reach it, to snatch it up. Her elbow caught the Millennial in the face and he doubled up, retching. By the time Sam had fastened the mask’s straps around her head, the gas had rendered her opponent unconscious.

Sam straightened up, her pistol in her hand. Her eyes were streaming. She could hardly see a thing. She realised too late that a Millennial had come up behind her. She spun around to face him. The Millennial lowered his shotgun, made a gesture of apology. He had made out Sam’s gas mask through the haze and assumed her to be an ally.

She couldn’t count on being so lucky again.

The rest of the Guardians had fallen, unconscious or worse. The Millennials were climbing the exit ladder, going after the escapees. A couple of them were starting to look at Sam, suspiciously. She couldn’t possibly fight all of them.

She edged away from the Millennials. Her hands searched behind her back, and found the button that called the lift. She pressed it.

Every one of the Millennials turned towards Sam now, alerted by the sound of doors rumbling open. Before they could work out what was happening, Sam had leapt into the lift, flattened herself against the wall and was stabbing at the controls.

The doors began to close, too slowly. The Millennials fired through the narrowing gap between them. Sam dropped into the corner, making herself as small a target as she could as bullets bounced around the confined space. She breathed a sigh of relief as the doors came together and the lift began to descend.